The Lost Triathlete - Part 2
I tried my best to sleep that night, but I could never find a comfortable position. My companions and Masters slept close to me, keeping me perpendicular to them so that I always had their feet close to me.
In the morning, the reason of my uncomfortable night became apparent: my back was extremely stiff and sore from the long ride of the previous day: especially my lower back, where the Prince had stood with his bare feet. The Princess quickly realized my predicament. She made me lay on my belly, sat on my butt, and proceeded to give me the most amazing back massage using her hands, forearms, elbows and even her feet.
Her massage brought me back to life, and I felt incredibly grateful for her kindness. It turns out that the Prince had woken up early and caught some fish, so we had a lovely and nutritious breakfast together. I started thinking that perhaps their eagerness to enslave me would fade away, now that we had found some security and a source of fresh water. Perhaps we could learn to collaborate and coexist. And of course I would be always willing to put my strength at the service of the adorable Princess, especially as long as her ankle was injured.
That illusion would be shattered very soon. I went into the ocean to further relax my back muscles with a short swim, and as I walked back to our camp I met the Princess. She was standing in front of me, and I was happy to see that she could now walk by herself, albeit with a bit of a limp. Suddenly the back of my knees exploded in pain, making me scream and fall onto my knees in front of her: the Prince had just hit me with a wooden cane! I was about to get back up and teach him a lesson, but the Princess placed a hand on top of my head and immediately calmed me down. Then the Prince explained his action to me through gestures: first he pointed at his sister with an open palm, then he aimed a finger down at me. I am pretty sure he basically meant to say: "She is a superior Princess, and your place is always on your knees in front of her."
This was a defining moment. I could choose to walk away, or accept an indefinite servile status. I looked up at the Princess, who kept eye contact with me while saying something I could not understand. Her tone of voice conveyed kindness and domination, need and entitlement, all at the same time. She was irresistible.
I got down on my hands and knees, and I kissed her pretty feet. I was going to be her slave, if that's what she wanted. The Prince immediated straddled my back, and placed the bit tightly in my mouth. I humbly accepted it, fully aware that the two of them came as a package: my submission to her implied that I should be ready to serve him as well.
The Princess straddled me too, right in front of him, taking control of the bridles as the Prince spurred me on with a kick of his heels against my thighs. They rode me into the lake until the the water started touching my abdomen, then they kept me there as a bench while enjoying themselves: swimming in the lake, sitting on my back any time they wanted, splashing each other. The Prince even used me as a trampoline, standing on my shoulders to dive into the freshwater. This was definitely a new peak of humiliation for me, as it canceled any illusion that my obedience was justified by a need to survive: they were using me for pure leisure, asserting their right to my unconditional service.
After about 30 minutes of this treatment, the Princess straddled my back and started a playful game of chasing her brother all over the shallow areas of the lake. He was obviously faster than me – being on two legs and unburdened – but he got tired much more quickly and we eventually caught him. I loved hearing my adored Rider laugh with joy as she used me that way, feeling her weight in the middle of my back, showing my devotion by obeying her orders as she roughly pulled the bridles to give me directions, and as she hit my ribcage with the inside of her thighs and knees to spur me on.
Eventually she led me out of the water, turned me towards the beach and said something to the Prince. Was she going to take me for a ride? I found myself craving some time alone with this beautiful woman, albeit in a servile position, or perhaps precisely because of it. He replied something, and she reined me to a stop.
"Why are you stopping her?" I thought. "Please, don't mount me as well. I am still sore from yesterday, and I really don't feel like carrying both of you for a long time..."
Fortunately he only approached us in order to fasten a simple harness around my chest, complete with a pair of stirrups for my Rider's bare feet. The whole thing was made of vines, with two small pieces of wood to make the stirrups wider and more rigid under her feet, and I was impressed one more time by his resourcefulness and manual skills. He also handed the Princess a short flexible stick, which she promptly used to hit my butt and start her ride.
I carried her obediently, doing my absolute best to act like a well-trained pony. She let me crawl slowly for the first few minutes on soft sand, but she started demanding more speed as soon as we got closer to the ocean. Her stick kept hitting me harder and more often, until I was carrying her at a respectable speed along the shoreline. Those whiplashes hurt a lot, but I was completely focused on pleasing her: as the increasing speed made her butt bounce on my back, I taught myself how to make my back more flexible every time she landed on it, in order to shock-absorb and thus provide her with a more comfortable ride. Of course this was torture for my spine, but I was completely absorbed by the need to be a perfect slave for her.
Once I was covered in sweat and almost exhausted, she slowed me to a walk and led me into the ocean until the waves reached my elbow. Then she pulled the bridles to bring me to a stop, and she reached forward to take the bit off my mouth. In response, I kissed the hands that had been controlling and hitting me for the past 30 minutes or so.
Then, for the first time ever, she spoke to me in English: "Cat," she simply said.
I was confused for a second, then I realized that she probably knew a few English words from her yoga training. So I immediately arched my back upwards, pushing her body up until her feet slid off the stirrups.
"Cow," she said, and I made the opposite motion, bending my back down until it was sagging significantly under her.
"Cat... cow... cat... cow..." she kept commanding, and then: "Faster!" accompanied by a painful lash of her improvised whip on my upper back.
I started arching and bending, over and over again, moving increasingly fast as she kept hitting me harder and harder. As I worked on all fours under her full weight, stressing my back to satisfy her demands while being whipped mercilessly, I realized that she was using me to get sexual relief. In fact she had clearly lifted her dress, because I could feel her pubic hair rubbing against my back, sliding on a mix of my sweat and her juices. So I added to my motion a slight movement forward and back to increase the stimulation: even in my pain and exhaustion, I was relentlessly focused on pleasing my Princess.
It took her a while to reach an orgasm, but when she did it was such a rewarding feeling for me. She stopped whipping me as she moaned in pleasure, but I kept moving at a constant pace until she signaled for me to stop with a gentle pull of my hair. At that point I bent my back down as deeply as possible, letting her sink into it for maximum comfort. She responded by laying down, with her torso on my shoulders and her face right next to mine, as she caught her breath. I found my face enveloped by her hair, scent, breath... and I felt in Heaven.
We stayed in that relaxed position for a few minutes, and I didn't dare moving. Then she sat up and – for the first time in over an hour – she dismounted. I turned to a side to look at her, and she gestured for me to turn around by rotating a finger in the air. I tentatively turned around to be on my hands and feet, with my abdomen parallel to the ground and facing the sky. As she approached me and turned around to touch my side with her butt, it was clear that I was too high up for her to seat on without a leap, so I bent my arms until she could take a seat on my abdomen with minimal effort. Then I lifted her back up.
I was her bench one more time, but now I could look at her in the eyes. And she must have noticed the erection in my Speedo before mounting me, but she completely ignored it and she was now sitting on my chest, with my head between her thighs. She looked down at me and caressed my face. I responded by kissing her hand and closing my eyes, enjoying my deep devotion to this adorable and dominant angel.
Then she demanded my full attention again, by pulling my hair upwards while sliding further down until she was almost sitting on my throat. She also lifted her dress in the process, so I found my mouth on her vulva and I did not hesitate to start kissing and licking her passionately. However it was soon apparent that she had already received enough pleasure: right now I was only being used to clean her up. I didn't mind that at all, as I immediately loved the taste of her juices.
After a few seconds, she pulled my hair harder until my mouth was pushed quite tightly against her crotch. The open palm of her other hand motioned for me to stop. Then I felt a new wetness and warmth come out of her. It started as a trickle, but it quickly sped up. I was surprised at first, so a few drops ended up in the ocean underneath us, but then I eagerly opened my mouth and I started swallowing her warm pee.
As the sound of my gulps blended with a background of ocean waves, I felt her flow increase and I saw her beautiful face smile at me. She kept constant eye contact with me as I served her in such a humiliating yet loving way, proving my total devotion as I became her human toilet. I was ready to be anything she wanted, while looking at her expression of amusement, satisfaction and complete awareness of her ownership of me.
A few minutes later, the Princess started riding me back to our camp. She had discarded her whip and stirrups, and she was now riding on my shoulders, while I ensured her full comfort by bending my head forward – to give her more space and comfort – and by placing my hands under her feet as a pair of human stirrups. She spurred me on by kicking my abdomen with her heels, so I made sure to hold her feet from the side to prevent any interference.
It felt good to be back on two feet like a human. Soon I was running pretty fast under my beautiful Rider, who started yelling and laughing in exhilaration. I thought with pride that if she had wanted to pick the human pony with the highest speed and endurance in the world, she might as well have watched my triathlon race a few weeks earlier to pick out a steed. (God, the race felt like so long ago!)
"Faster!" she yelled, and soon I was running as quickly as I possibly could, splashing water around us whenever the waves reached my feet. "Whoohoo!" I heard her say as she totally enjoyed herself, while her butt painfully bounced on my neck with every step.
Then she suddenly pulled the reins, making the wooden bit dig painfully into my mouth. I came to a stop as quickly as I could, then she turned me towards the ocean and I realized the reason of her action: a large suitcase was partially visible above the surf. "Did this really require such a sudden and painful stop?" part of me thought, but the truth is that I would have humbly accepted any abuse from this woman.
The Princess used her bridles and heels to lead me to the suitcase, then she pushed my head down with her hand to signal for me to kneel and pick up the suitcase. I started dragging it to the shore – of course while still carrying her on my shoulders – then she made me kneel next to it once we reached the sand. The suitcase was locked, so we could not open it, but it was clear that its contents must have included clothes drenched in water, because it was very heavy. That of course didn't concern her: I soon found myself crawling on all fours again, with the large suitcase on my back and the Princess sitting on top of it. Her feet rested on my shoulders, and she kept kicking the top of my head with the bottom of her feet to demand more speed, frustrated by what she must have considered a slow pace, probably unaware of how heavy the suitcase actually was. I did my best to satisfy her demands, and I was completely exhausted by the time we met her brother at our camp, so much so that I collapsed under the suitcase as soon as she dismounted, allowing her to use my head as a convenient step for her foot while holding her brother's hand for balance.
We spent hours and hours recovering all sorts of luggage from the beach during the following few days. It must have been all from the wreck of our ship, as it included some maritime items such as ropes and life buoys. Of course I did all the carrying, which usually included at least one of my Masters on my back, sometimes both. They worked me to total exhaustion every day, whipping me mercilessly to get any last ounce of energy out of me. I was always well fed though, mostly fish and fruits, and the Princess started using my mouth as her urinal on a regular basis. Even in the middle of the night, she would sometimes straddle my face and let me drink her. That was sometimes followed by the honor of pleasing her orally – which I absolutely loved – but it was otherwise just an act of service for her convenience. Similarly, she started straddling my face in reverse whenever she wanted her ass licked. I was hers to use and exploit in every way.
The suitcases provided us with much needed clothing, but also with tools and objects that the Prince promptly used to build a variety of new contraptions. Soon we had a wooden shed to sleep in, with lifted beds for the two of them and a blanket on the floor for me. Whenever the Princess had to pee in the middle of the night, she would wake me up with some gentle kicks on my face and I would immediately place my hands next to my face with their palms upwards, so she could step on them, squat down, and relieve herself into my mouth.
Fortunately the Prince never tried to use me in any such intimate way. But he found a full set of fishing poles, which he started using every day for a few hours. Almost every time, I had to carry him until I was elbow-deep into the ocean, then stay there on all-fours as his chair for hours. He largely ignored me during those times – as if I was nothing but an actual chair – but he occasionally hit me if he thought that I was not steady enough.
Then one day, first thing in the morning, he ordered me on my knees and he tied my wrists together behind my back. When satisfied, he pushed my shoulders forward. Having no hands available, I bent down until my forehead was on the ground. Then he straddled my back, placing his legs between my ribcage and my tied arms. Once he pulled my hair to make me get back up on my knees, I understood what he had meant to achieve: he was basically riding me in a piggyback, but with my tied arms supporting his butt for comfort, while keeping his body high enough that he could see forward above my head. And of course – unlike in a traditional piggyback – I had no option of dropping him.
The Princess stood in front of me, admiring this new riding solution. She put the bit in my mouth, fastened it around my head, and handed the bridles to her brother. Then she put something new around my neck: basically a collar connected to a pair of stirrups hanging in front of my abdomen. The Prince put his feet in the stirrups, experimented with them for a few seconds, then he ordered me up with a sharp tug of the reins.
He immediately took me for a test ride on the beach, and soon he whipped me until I was running at maximum speed. This was probably the most comfortable way for him to ride me, and definitely the fastest. I guess the only drawback – compared to all-fours riding – was that I could only carry one rider and limited supplies. I already knew how to respond to the bridles and the whiplashes, and he couldn't kick me well in this position, so he focused his training on the mounts and dismounts.
When we finally went back to our camp, he gave the Princess a full demonstration, pushing my head down to make me place my forehead on the ground for mounting or dismounting, and pulling my hair upwards to make me first get up on my knees, then stand up with my Rider safely sitting on my tied forearms.
When he finally dismounted, I stayed with my forehead on the ground, catching my breath. It was late afternoon and I was pretty close to exhaustion. It took only a few seconds before the Princess sat on my back, placing her feet on my head. She just used me as a bench in that position for a few minutes, chatting with her brother in their mysterious language, then she decided to have her first try at this new style of riding: she threaded her pretty legs between my ribs and my arms, made me kneel and then stand up, and off we went.
My forearms were almost numb by now, having been fastened to each other for over an hour, yet I loved feeling her sexy butt sitting comfortably on them as well as her small breasts pushing against my upper back. Those thoughts were soon overshadowed by the need to focus on her commands, as she demanded a long and fast ride, seemingly indifferent to the fact that I was already tired and sweaty when she had first mounted me.
As a long-distance triathlete, I know how to stay consistent on a fast pace. But it was different when carrying another human on my back, not to mention the whiplashes that constantly demanded more speed and increased my heart rate, or even the bit in my mouth that limited my breathing capacity.
My Princess seemed completely oblivious to all those aspects. I was her steed, her slave, expected to perform exactly as demanded. She kept me going for over an hour, which means that we would need at least as long to go back to our camp. When pushing me to maximum speed with merciless whipping, she would occasionally scream in excitement, giving me a great sense of accomplishment. But for the most part she just enjoyed a comfortably fast ride... wind in her hair, feet in the stirrups, butt on my forearms... and her strong slave between her legs, totally under her control.
Occasionally she took a sip of water from a bottle fastened to my upper arm, but she never shared any of it, even though I was the one sweating and doing all the work. Eventually she brought me to a halt, and made me kneel on the wet sand with my butt sitting on my own ankles. I expected her to push my head forward – so perhaps she could dismount – but instead she pulled my hair backwards until I was looking straight at the sky. It was almost sunset, and the colors looked beautiful. Then she propped herself up to stand on my forearms, where she had been sitting so far, she lifted her short dress and she turned around to sit right on my face.
I was immediately enveloped by her wonderful warmth and taste, but I had no time to focus on it, because she started abundantly peeing into my mouth. Her flow had been getting faster and faster as her training of me as her human toilet progressed, and by now I was pretty sure that she was making no effort whatsoever to slow it down. I tried my best to keep up, despite being still out of breath from the long ride. Soon she opened her thighs just enough to be able to look into my eyes, with an expression that I can only define as an irresistible mixture of sweetness and dominance.
I absolutely loved drinking her, and I definitely needed the hydration. Soon our ride resumed, and we started heading back. Her feet had not touched the ground for almost two hours, I thought proudly. But soon I was in pain more than ever: the Pricess must have realized that it was getting dark and we were pretty far, so she pushed me to carry her at an impossibly fast pace. Her whiplashes were harsh enough to rival her brother's, and my absolute best effort was never enough to satisfy her and stop the abuse: I was pretty sure one side of my butt was bleeding by now. She didn't even seem to enjoy the ride anymore: if anything, she seemed scared, especially when we eventually found ourselves proceeding in the dark.
I felt beyond exhaustion, and I was in pain everywhere. Thankfully she slightly reduced my pace, probably aware that I could easily trip, since I didn't see well where I was putting my feet on the sand. At least it was a clear night, so the moon and stars gave us some visibility. It felt like forever until we saw a fire on the beach, probably made by a worried Prince to make sure that we could find him and the camp.
The Princess was clearly relieved to see him. She also felt cold, so as soon as she dismounted I was finally released from my bondage, but only to be immediately turned into an all-fours bench on which they both sat by the fire. They also had dinner, so my predicament lasted for quite a while. I was exhausted, sweaty, in pain, starving and thirsty... but I obediently stayed on all fours as my Masters' human bench, keeping their butts comfortable and sustaining their full weight on my tired back, waiting until they decided to give me a break and let me eat their leftovers.
We lived on that island for months, and my Masters kept finding new ways to exploit my strength and increase my submission. By the time we got rescued, my old life was such a distant memory that I could not conceive going back to it. So I moved to Indonesia and I stayed with them as a family slave. The new riding technique designed by my Prince – with the human pony's arms working as a human saddle behind his back – proved so successful in the mountainous area where they lived that I was soon rented out to other villagers. I carried people of all ages and sizes, somewhat compassionate riders as well as merciless ones. No matter how hard or how long I was ridden, every night I received the reward that I literally lived for: a chance to serve my adored Princess in whatever ways she saw fit.
By the second year, my Masters added more athletic caucasian slaves to their stable. I have no idea how they found them, because we were never allowed to communicate. That was the beginning of an actual enterprise: soon tourists from all over Asia started visiting the area, attracted by the promise of long rides astride strong and subservient human ponies.