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The Retreat - Part 1


As the airplane comes out of the clouds – on its descent in the middle of the Pacific Ocean – I look at the islands below us and feel eager with anticipation. In the window seat next to me, Alyssa seems just as excited. She gives me one of those innocent-looking smiles that I love about her.

I take her hand in mine, and I smile back. This girl has completely changed my life in a matter of months. I remember our first meeting – at the swimming pool – as if it was yesterday. We were attracted to each other like a couple of magnets. And the spontaneous, innocent way she dared me to carry her on my shoulders all the way to the train station, at the end of practice… I will never forget that…

Alyssa whispers in my ear: “Are you ready to be at my service for an entire month?”

I gently touch her thigh, while looking at her adorable long toes. “I can’t wait.”

She must have noticed my glimpse, because she turns around and places her feet on my lap. I start rubbing them, gently at first, then with more energy. There is no need for instructions: I know exactly what she likes. Her pleasure and comfort have literally been my highest priority since we first met. And I feel like I have known her forever.

Technically we are just friends though. We swim together, meet for lunch or dinner, watch movies… And we go for rides, all the time. Alyssa is just as addicted to riding on my shoulders as I am to carrying her wherever she wants. It started innocently, but one day she admitted that it gives her intense sexual pleasure. As she said that, she pushed my head further down – to the point where my chin almost touched my chest – and she started rubbing herself off on the back of my neck. To help her movements, I stopped in the middle of the uphill trail I was hiking, and I placed my hands below her feet – turning them into her stirrups. She grabbed a fistful of my hair, and she pulled it hard to move my head up and down at the rhythm of her pleasure ride, until she had what she later described as one of the most intense orgasms of her life. As for me, I had never felt so ‘used’ in my entire life. I absolutely loved it. As her weight relaxed and settled back on my shoulders and neck, I simply lowered my head and resumed my hike as her human horse, without a word. Just a few minutes later, for the first time she gave me an order by kicking me like an animal, instead of talking to me. Of course I obeyed instantly. That was three months ago, and my addiction to her has only been getting worse since.

Once at the airport, we pick up our luggage – which I carry – and we walk to the arrival hall. An attractive and curvaceous girl with a bright smile and dark red hair is holding a sign that reads ‘Windham Stables’. She introduces herself as Sally, and she asks us to wait nearby until the next flight lands as well. Alyssa and I look at each other, excited: this is going to be an unforgettable experience!

As more guests – all couples – gather around Sally’s sign, I start wondering what I got myself into: all the girls are very petite, and their partners look like huge bodybuilders. How are we going to keep up with them? Alyssa reminds me that it’s not a competition. But I am pretty sure we are going to go on very long rides, and I would hate to look like a slacker.

“You’ll do just fine. I believe in you!” Alyssa whispers in my ear.

As much as I appreciate her trust, I am a little nervous. Alyssa has been shoulder-riding me several times a week for months, and my endurance has been steadily increasing. I can keep going for over an hour non-stop, and maintain a fast walking speed on uphill trails with a steady foot. But Alyssa is about 120 lbs, whereas all these girls seem to hardly reach 100 lbs. And I have an athletic swimmer build – with broad shoulders and a weight of about 190 lbs – but not half the muscles of these huge guys! Will I be able to perform comparably? And will Alyssa understand if I won’t, or will she be frustrated with me? On the other hand, this may force her to become more dominant to push me hard, which would make me very happy. I know I can be mentally tough, with the right motivation. Hopefully that will be enough to compensate for my lower strength. My thoughts are interrupted by Sally, who invites everyone to follow her outside. We walk to an old Volkswagen van, where the driver introduces himself as Cody and helps us store the luggage in the back. He is about my same height and build, which makes me feel better, though I don’t know what role he’s going to have once we reach the camp.

Everybody looks tired and jet-lagged, and not much conversation happens in the van. There are six couples, including Alyssa/myself and Sally/Cody. Soon we leave the highway for a dirty road, and our average speed slows considerably.

“We are not far” says Sally about one hour later, and she starts working on what sounds like something metallic on the floor, right next to her own seat. Curious, I extend my head forward, and I see that she is fastening a pair of sharp-looking rowel spurs to her boots. I immediately feel a wave of excitement mount inside me. Once she is done, she turns around to face all of us in the back seats, and she announces: “We are minutes away from our parking location. Then it’s going to be a 30 minute ride through the woods to reach the cabins. You can leave all of your luggage in the van. I will come back later to pick it up for you.”

The van stops by a rusty metal gate, behind which the trail becomes narrower and its surface more irregular. There is a couple of porta-potties, and Sally invites us to make use of them and to stretch: “We will be moving in five minutes.”

Everybody is outside the van except the driver, Cody. Then he steps out, and everybody’s heart seems to skip a beat or two: this is what we have all come here for! Cody is wearing no clothes, except athletic shorts and trekking shoes. Some sort of padded towel is on the back of his neck, probably to protect riders from his sweat. He is also wearing a tight chest harness made of leather, which includes straps for a pair of stirrups. Last but not least, a thin rubber bit is forcing his lips open, and is fastened around his head with a leather strap and metal rings that include a pair of reins. I am sure we have all seen plenty of drawings and pictures on the Internet of such human horses, but this still looks remarkable.

“All right everybody, listen up and look at what I do!” Sally has our full attention. She’s been treating Cody like a simple driver so far, but now she walks to him and kicks him in the ankle with her boot. The man promptly drops on one of his knees. She steps on his thigh that is parallel to the ground, swings her other leg across, and lands with her butt on his shoulders and neck quite heavily. Then she firmly pulls the bridles, and Cody stands up, only to immediately guide her booted feet into the stirrups.

Sally is a very attractive redhead. But now she looks like the most exciting Goddess in the world, as she treats a strong man like her beast of burden. “We are going to learn all about these commands, starting tomorrow. You can also say ‘Mount’ instead of kicking the ankle, and say ‘Up’ instead of pulling the reins. You will also get all of your tack and gear. Today we are just going to take it easy though, and the only tack you will need are the neck towels you can find in my backpack.” With that she jabs Cody’s abdomen twice with her left spur, and he obediently turns 90 degrees to his right, on the spot. Alyssa and the other women walk to them and take a towel each from the small backpack that is revealed to be part of Cody’s harness.

As all the girls walk back to their partners, I hear them say ‘Mount’ and then place the towels on the shoulders of their kneeling servants. Then I feel sudden pain in my ankle, and I realize that Alyssa has chosen to follow Sally’s example and kick me without compliments. I hesitate for a second, surprised, then I recover and kneel down for her. She has never mounted me like this: usually I just insert my head between her legs and lift her. But she is quite resolute as she steps on my thigh and straddles my shoulders, not as gently as I expected from her.

Moments later we are all hiking in the woods, and I can immediately observe different riding styles. Three of the girls are sitting on their upper thighs, allowing their human horses to keep their head pretty much straight. To maintain their balance in that position, they have locked their feet behind their partners’ ribs. I have a feeling that – starting tomorrow – that’s going to change dramatically. In fact Sally’s butt is fully supported by Cody’s shoulders and neck, as he keeps his head down, looking at his own feet. This greatly encourages me, because that’s how Alyssa has always demanded that I carry her. (It ranged from very uncomfortable to agonizing for my neck at first, but it’s been getting better and better with training.) The difference, right now, is that Sally’s feet are supported by the stirrups whereas Alyssa’s are just dangling in front of me. Also, our guide is wearing spurs and making frequent use of them. I am grateful Alyssa is not wearing any spurs, because she is being harsher and more demanding than ever with me, and I am truly exhausted and jet-lagged right now.

“That’s a pretty good riding style, for a beginner. You are not letting him carry you, you are actually riding him. Nice job! Can you please remind me your name?” Sally asks, riding up right next to us. The other three couples are just ahead of us, proceeding at the same fast-walking speed. The guys seem to have an easy time sustaining their lightweight riders, but their breathing is getting labored. Perhaps my endurance and lean build will be more valuable than all of those heavy muscles, after all…

“I’m Alyssa. And thank you Sally! It was really hard for his neck at first, but I insisted that I wanted to feel safe and comfortable. And the training has paid off! I feel like I have so much to learn though. I have never used any gear at all!”

“No worries, you are here to learn. We will gradually all converge towards the best riding style. And while your partner will always be your primary carrier, we will also swap mounts all the time to improve everybody’s skills and learn from each other. Speaking of which, why don’t you and I swap rides now? It will be your first chance to try stirrups and bridles, and I am curious to feel your stud beneath me. He is very good looking…”

Her question is clearly rhetorical, because she yanks the reins to stop, without waiting for an answer. I feel Alyssa pull my hair to obtain the same effect.

“Now, either you say ‘Down’ or you do this” says Sally, pushing Cody’s head forward and down while pulling her boots off the stirrups. He kneels down and sits on his own feet, while she slides with her butt on the back of his head and gently lands with her feet on the ground. Alyssa follows her example successfully, but I probably need to relax my neck more next time, because that sliding action feels very stressful on my neck.

The two women mount again, and off we go.

“Wow, the stirrups are so comfortable!” Alyssa observes immediately, as she settles herself on Cody. “And it’s so easy to give commands through the reins!”

“You’ll get used to it soon!” Sally replies. “Your man here feels very solid and comfortable. I actually enjoy riding with no tack sometimes. All right, let’s catch up with the others!” That’s when I am reminded that Sally is wearing spurs, as she painfully jabs my abdomen once, twice, three times.

It hurts so much that I am pretty sure I must be bleeding. Blinded by the sudden pain, I break into a trot, which is the fastest pace I have ever held with Alyssa. I have to admit that Sally makes it feel easier. It almost feels like her crotch is glued to the back of my neck, probably because she is squeezing it between her thighs. With the corner of my eye, I can see Alyssa bounce up and down on Cody as they trot next to us.

Less than a minute on a trot is enough to catch up with the others, who have kept going while we swapped rides. As we slow down to a fast walk and the weight of my rider relaxes on my shoulders and neck, I start realizing that Sally is much heavier than Alyssa. She must weigh about 135 lbs, possibly a little more. And her riding style is very aggressive: while Alyssa mostly lets me carry her quietly – as long as I keep a satisfactory steady pace – Sally gives me orders incessantly, either jabbing me with the spurs or pulling my hair.

But the worst part is that she is the leader of this group and she wants to keep it under control, while socializing with all the new arrivals. So she starts riding quickly up to the first rider, then back down to the last one in line, over and over again, with the result that we change speed and direction constantly, and I feel like I am covering double the distance of everyone else.

It’s very hard and painful, but I absolutely love being ridden by Sally. I have never felt so completely controlled and abused by a woman. Her power on me feels unlimited. I think I will jump down a cliff if the orders me to. I also love how she has been using me like an animal, only talking to Alyssa and without even asking her what’s my name. I am just an attractive and strong body, available for her to exploit.

As Sally keeps riding me up and down the trail, I take a glimpse of Alyssa smiling at me, and then looking at my body with concern. When we finally reach our destination and Sally dismounts, I look at the bloody marks on my abdomen and I understand why.

Sally leads the girls towards a group of cabins, where their rooms are. Nobody gives me any order, so I just stay in the dismount position – sitting on my heels with my head down – and I wait while catching my breath. Two of the other guys get up and start following the girls. Big mistake: a petite yet curvy blonde, dressed in attire similar to Sally’s, appears out of nowhere and hits them hard with a long whip, ordering: “Stay down in your dismount position, boys!”

“Now, mount!” she yells a few seconds later. We assume the mount position and look at each other inquisitively: weren’t we supposed to rest now, and start training tomorrow?

It’s just the five of us now: all the male guests from the van. Our girls are gone, and so is Cody. Then Sally walks back to us: “The girls are going to take a shower and relax. Amber, let’s go get their luggage. Pick your ride!” As she says that, she walks to me and resolutely mounts. I can’t help but groan, as she plops down with her butt on the back of my neck, but that doesn’t seem to bother her: “Up!”

Amber – that must be the blonde girl’s name – mounts the largest of the other guys, and orders the remaining three to follow her. She is wearing spurs similar to Sally’s and she must be using them, because I can hear her massive human horse scream in pain.

By the time we reach the van, I feel like I might pass out. Yet I am sure Sally’s imperious riding style could force me to complete the uphill journey again, and I feel terrified but also excited at the thought.

The girls direct us to recover a wooden litter hidden in the woods, and to load all the luggage on top of it, leaving some empty space in the front where Sally takes a seat. Then four of the boys are ordered to lift it, placing a shoulder underneath one of the four poles that protrude from each corner. I am the only one left, and I immediately understand why as I feel a harsh kick on my ankle. I kneel down, and Amber mounts me. She is lighter than Sally – probably about 125 lbs – and slightly more gentle as she straddles my neck, but the way she pulls my hair makes me groan in pain. I get up, with my new rider astride me.

She is the first person to address me verbally in a while: “Slave, I want stirrups. Place your hands under my boots, and be ready to sustain some weight on them. But don’t you dare preventing me from moving my feet back and forth to spur you, or I’ll make you feel sorry.”

And off we go. Amber digs her spurs into my abdomen much harder than Sally ever did, while my hands dutifully keep her feet supported and my bent neck makes a comfortable saddle for her bubbly bottom. She keeps using the spurs on me every few seconds as we lead the way, with Sally following us on the litter with all of our girls’ heavy luggage. “Come on boys!” I hear her yell. “Keep the pace, or I will use the long whip on you when we arrive!”

I have never been so exhausted in my entire life, but Amber’s merciless spurs keep me going at a respectable pace. I can’t feel my neck anymore, as her weight sinks into it at every step, and I am barely aware of her voice as she chats away with Sally.

I keep repeating to myself that this is just the beginning of the experience we signed up for. But I am not sure if that’s an encouraging thought.

Halfway through the trail, Sally calls for a short break to allow the boys to swap places, so they can switch to the shoulder they have not been using so far. As they lower the litter, she jumps down and walks to me, looking up at Amber on my shoulders. “Can I have this pretty boy back?” she asks her, while rubbing my sweaty chest with her hands and then grabbing one of my ass cheeks.

“I don’t know. I’m having a great time up here!” Amber replies with a giggle.

“Down, boy!” Sally orders, grabbing my hair and pulling my head down.

Now I am confused. Should I do as she says, or am I supposed to only follow the orders of whoever is riding me? In a split second, I decide for the latter and hold my position, with Amber still sitting on me.

“He is such a natural” Sally says with a smile. I guess I did the right thing.

Then Amber gives in, and she orders me to get down for her to dismount. A few seconds later, as Sally’s heavier weight lands unceremoniously on my neck and she takes control of me, I am more sure than ever: she is the best rider I have ever had the pleasure to serve, and I hope I will have many other chances in the coming month.

To be continued...