“Good morning, Ladies. And welcome to your first day at Windham Stables! You have signed up for a one-of-a-kind experience, together with the partners at your service. Rest assured: we will take your interest in lift / carrying – whatever your current level of experience – and transform you into nothing less than Riding Goddesses.”
Sally looks absolutely gorgeous as she walks in the middle of our small circle, making eye contact with the girls as she speaks. I find myself craving her attention, but it’s clear that in her eyes I am nothing more than a human chair. At least I can face her though, because Alyssa figured out a new way to use me on all-fours: my right hand is lifted from the ground and holds the elbow of my straight left arm, so that my right forearm is parallel to the ground and serves as a convenient footstool for her bare feet. Of course it doesn’t bother her that most of her weight is sustained by my left hand: she is becoming more selfish and demanding by the minute, which makes me very excited and – in all honesty – a little bit concerned.
“As new arrivals” Sally continues “you received a booklet with plenty of information, as well a map of the property with description of every riding trail. But let me mention a few key rules, before we join the larger circle with every other guest. First, men are expected to always obey women. It’s that simple, and it admits no exceptions. It even applies to the occasional ponygirl, whose status is superior to that of ponyboys, who must obey her. In case you are wondering, no male riders are accepted here. Second, each man belongs to a main owner for the duration of the retreat. Her orders will always come first for him, and they will prevail on anybody else’s with only one exception, which I will mention in the next point. Third, the schedule allows for about 50% of time you will spend riding your primary carrier, and 50% in which you have the option to swap rides with other women. We strongly encourage swapping, but it’s not mandatory, so please be respectful of everybody’s choices. And here’s the exception to the second rule: if you do accept to lend your carrier to another woman, she becomes his primary owner for the duration of that session, and her orders will prevail on yours for that time. Any questions?”
“Sally, what type of orders does that include?” asks Melissa, a pretty brunette perched on the back of a tall guy who looks like a basketball player. “I am interested in riding different men, but I want to make sure that whoever uses my boyfriend doesn’t break him!”
“We respect all riding styles, so you can’t ask a typically aggressive rider to go easy on your man. But don’t worry, we constantly monitor everyone’s behavior to make sure the whole experience is always safe and consensual.”
“What about orders that go… ehm… beyond riding?” asks Tiffany, a black cheerleader sitting on a huge white guy.
“That’s all left to your own initiative. If you wish to swap men outside of our riding sessions, you can do that. But the three rules I mentioned earlier still apply, so you should expect your man to obey any order from the other woman.”
Sally answers a few more questions, then we hear a horn being blown from a large patio. It’s time for the morning circle! I am curious to see how many other couples are here.
Alyssa maintains her position on my upper back, as I take away my footstool arm to start crawling at her order. All the other riders must be sitting right in the middle of their men’s back, leaving less available space, because Sally steps with her leather boots on my back, placing her hands on Alyssa’s shoulders for balance as she stands on me: “I hope you don’t mind if I hitch a quick ride!”
“Of course not!” Alyssa replies with enthusiasm. “It looks like you have a thing for Steven though…”
“Well, I think he’s very attractive. And I prefer a strong lean body, rather than huge bodybuilder types…”
“That’s totally fine with me. We are just friends, and I will have no problem lending him. And a great rider like you will make him so much better for me! So please feel free to use him any time you want… as long as you find someone else to carry me!”
“Sounds like a plan!” I hear Sally say with excitement, as I struggle to carry the two women on my hands and knees. I am still somewhat surprised to be treated like a disposable animal, but it sounds like I will get used to it very soon!
Alyssa keeps sitting on my back for at least one more hour, as we join the morning circle and then go to have breakfast. There are about 20 couples taking part to the ponyplay retreat, plus five resident riders – including Sally and Amber – and a number of resident slaves that seem to take care of everything from the kitchen to the stables.
As we start the morning ride, Alyssa feels heavier than usual on my shoulders. It must be the jet-lag, or perhaps the rich breakfast that she enjoyed earlier this morning. Of course I could only smell it – while serving as her chair – but I was then fed and equipped with riding tack at the stables, while Alyssa went back to her room like the other girls.
As she was preparing me, the resident slave at the stables read a check-list for my first day, based on the preferences Alyssa expressed this morning through a form:
- Arms tied behind back
- Chest harness
- Stirrups with embedded spurs
- Backpack with drinking water for the rider
- Bit and bridles, plus riding crop for the rider
- Assigned to his owner for the morning, then available to share in the afternoon
- She treated me harshly, kicking my ankle whenever she needed me on my knees, then riding me all the way to Alyssa’s room and leaving me by the front door, waiting for my owner to make use of me.
Alyssa is barefoot today, but her kicks are more painful than ever: those spurs embedded in the stirrups are very sharp. Part of me starts resenting her for unnecessarily hurting me so much, but then I look at her adorable feet and I think that they can do anything they want to me. I am also uncomfortable with my hands tied behind my back, as if that changed my balance. But I don’t have much time to adapt, as my owner puts me through my paces and chats away with other riders on the way.
Sally is leading the group on a trail in the woods, riding alongside another resident Mistress whose name I could not catch. They are mounted on two slender but strong men, part of the seemingly unlimited supply of available slaves.
As we keep going, I hear Alyssa make conversation with other riders. She literally offers every one of them to make use of me any time they want.
Now she is talking to a voluptuous woman in her 50s, astride a man who must be half her age. She is probably the heaviest rider on the entire retreat, and definitely the most merciless I have seen so far, as her spurs and riding crop seem to constantly torment the poor man even when there is no need to convey any order. The prospect of being ridden by her terrifies me.
“Nice to meet you, Alyssa! My name is Roseanne.”
“Hey Roseanne, nice meeting you too! Isn’t it a perfect day to ride our slaves?” This is the first time Alyssa refers to me as her slave. She is totally getting into this!
“Indeed it is. Junior here is a little out of shape though. We’ve been here for two weeks and he is starting to get worn out. I should probably lend him to lighter riders more often…”
“Yeah, I’d be happy to help with that. And of course you could use Steven here!”
“That would be lovely. My Junior is a little high-maintenance though. You should be prepared. He is my stepson, and he is never been very smart. He used to make my daughter’s life a nightmare, until she took martial arts classes and she started kicking his ass. As long as you hurt him, he transforms from a wild animal into a docile donkey…” she says with an evil smile, following by more spurring of Junior’s already bruised abdomen.
“So you turned your stepson into a slave for yourself and your daughter?”
“Well, not exactly. My daughter gradually turned him into her servant. Then she left for college – shortly after my husband passed away – and we concluded that the best way to handle the son of a bitch was for me to learn how to dominate him. And, well… it’s been a hell of a ride since, if you see my play on words!”
“Well, I am glad it worked out for you. I can’t help but wonder if his submission is truly consensual though…”
“Oh, it’s fine. I may seem harsh with him, but he needs the discipline. He used to be a scumbag and an addict, and now at least he’s doing something useful!”
I look at Junior’s strong body, struggling under his cruel and heavy rider, and I am not sure he feels the same way. But who am I to judge? I can definitely agree with the right of any dominant woman to have a man at her service. And – together with the obvious reactions to his pain and strain – I can also see a sense of accomplishment in Junior’s behavior: his neck is bent forward to make a comfortable saddle for his rider, and his hands are placed underneath the soles of Roseanne’s boots, serving as natural stirrups. I can definitely see that he doesn’t even try to slow down her legs as they kick him with those cruel spurs. Perhaps he has actually found his purpose in life.
The grim prospect of Alyssa and Roseanne swapping carriers is postponed for now, as the bit pulls between my teeth and I obediently slow down. I soon realize that Alyssa wants to wait for the last rider in our group.
“Hey, thanks for waiting! I love chatting while riding, and my girlfriend here is getting too tired to talk back to me. By the way, my name is Anne.”
“Nice to meet you, Anne. I’m Alyssa! Your slave here seems to be doing a great job!”
“Thanks! She is not as strong as most boys, but she compensates with extreme dedication to my comfort and pleasure. She worships me as her girlfriend, and she loves my weight on her. But don’t call her slave, please. That’s not what she is to me. Her name is Laura.”
“Oh, sorry. I just assumed every carrier here was submissive.”
“Well, she definitely submits to my will. But I like leveraging her affection to me to get the best performance out of her, instead of using cruel tools. No judgement, of course…” she says, probably after realizing that Alyssa is using spurs on me.
“Oh, I understand. I was never an aggressive rider either, but I must admit that I am enjoying trying everything out at this place, and my Steven here never complains, no matter how dominant and cruel I get. I am curious to see how far I can go with him, and I have plenty of time to find out!” She talks as if I wasn’t even there!
“Come on, babe. We are about to lose the others. Carry me faster, I know you can do it for me!” Anne orders, gently kicking her carrier’s abdomen with her bare feet for encouragement. As Laura gains speed with a subtle groan, for the first time I get a glimpse at them and I am truly impressed: the two girls are about the same size!
Anne is pretty and feminine, with the typical colors and complexion of a Dutch or Danish girl. She must be 110 lbs or so, and she is riding with no gear or tack, only wearing cotton shorts and a tank top. Her carrier must be struggling under her weight, but she is clearly prioritizing Anne’s comfort over her own: her neck is completely bent forward to create a natural saddle that fully sustains Anne’s butt, and her hands are not only holding the rider’s feet as natural stirrups, but they are also rubbing those pretty feet at the same time. I can’t help but find it highly erotic: every molecule of Laura’s body is lovingly dedicated to providing comfort and pleasure to the woman astride her, no matter how hard it gets.
Alyssa seems just as impressed: “We should be friends. And I would love to swap carriers with you. I promise I will be gentle with her…”
“I appreciate the offer, Alyssa. But I rarely lend her. As I said, she is not a slave, and the rules here demand that any rider be obeyed no matter what. So I mostly keep her for myself.”
“Oh, I understand. But those rules only apply to the afternoon sessions, when the lending is official. Why don’t we just swap rides right now for a while, and we stay together so you can keep an eye on her? I am very curious to feel a female carrier beneath me…”
“Hmm… that’s tempting. And I wouldn’t mind trying your carrier. But you are taller than me, thus probably a little heavier.”
“All right, let’s do this. We try just for a little while – you can get Laura back whenever you want. And tonight I’ll lend you my Steven with nothing in return. Perhaps you could enjoy a ride on his back together with your girlfriend, giving her a break from being at your service…”
“Well, that’s really tempting! Ok, let’s do it. But we are both barefoot, and I don’t want to get my feet dirty.”
“Let’s have our slaves – ops, carriers – kneel down next to each other.”
As we follow their orders, Laura and I start feeling feet stepping on our thighs, hands and arms. I am not exactly sure how they are doing it, but I obediently keep my head down, and soon enough I feel Anne’s weight straddle my shoulders and neck. The girls have swapped rides without touching the ground with their pretty feet.
Laura groans as she lifts Alyssa and starts walking beneath her, and I have a feeling that the small difference in weight is not what’s troubling her. Anne probably has the same thought, because she says: “Laura, honey, I really want you to serve Alyssa with the same dedication you have for me. And I want you to do that because it will make me happy. Understand?”
Laura’s reaction is immediate. She relaxes her bent neck – letting Alyssa sink comfortably in the natural saddle of her shoulders – and she grabs Alyssa’s feet to provide them with the same support that her girlfriend was enjoying a minute ago, while also starting to massage them.
Alyssa reacts with a “Oh, yes… I love this!” and she rewards her new mount with a kick in her abdomen that Anne would probably consider a little too hard. “Go girl! You are at my service now…” I can’t believe how much she is enjoying riding that girl!
My attention soon moves to Anne though, because her gentle approach is clearly reserved to her own girlfriend: first she pushes my head down so much that my chin is almost touching my chest, then she kicks me sharply to start our ride. I wonder if she realized that the stirrups she is using are equipped with razor-sharp spurs.
“I can’t even see the others anymore” she tells Alyssa after a couple of minutes of more riding. “Do you mind if I go ask them to wait for us?”
“Yes, but be careful: Steven can be pretty fast!”
She barely finishes her sentence when I feel the spurs painfully dig one, two, three times into my abs. I break into a trot – leaving Alyssa and Laura behind – but Anne doesn’t seem to have enough. A few more kicks and I am running for my life. It’s my first time galloping! Anne is not only lighter and more petite than Alyssa, but also a surprisingly competent rider! As we reach the end of the group she slows me down a little bit, but we keep passing everyone until we reach Sally in front, then I feel the bit pulling harshly into my mouth.
After talking to Anne, Sally asks Lindsay – the resident Mistress riding next to her – to slow the pace of the group until she’s back. Then she pulls her left bridle so hard that her slave’s teeth become visible, until he has made a 180 turn. “Follow me!”
I don’t have much time to understand, before my mouth is subjected to a similar torture and Anne spurs me on to follow Sally. We are galloping again, this time going in the opposite direction of the riders that we pass along the way.
As we reach the end of the group, I am surprised to already see Alyssa’s smile. Somehow she got Laura to almost catch up! I can imagine how… since I see her kicking the girl beneath her at least twice in just a few seconds. Laura looks exhausted, but Anne doesn’t seem bothered: perhaps she is enjoying the thought that her girlfriend is working hard, only to obey her order to please Alyssa.
“All right, are you two ok now?” Sally asks Anne and Alyssa.
“Yes, we should be good. Thanks for waiting for us!” Alyssa replies first.
“No problem. Next time wait until a break to swap rides though. I’ll see you girls shortly. We are about to stop for lunch!”
About 20 minutes later I am on all fours, serving as a human chair for both Alyssa and Anne. Laura is laying on her back right next to me, as a soft and warm footstool for the girls’ naked feet. One more time, they have managed to move around without touching the ground. I feel lucky to be serving these two natural Goddesses.
Suddenly Anne orders Laura to get up on all fours as well, and both girls move from my back to hers. It’s only a temporary test though, that Anne and Alyssa seem to enjoy with plenty of laughter. Then they are back on me – to my satisfaction – and I hear Anne give an unprecedented order: “Laura, honey. You deserve a break. Come sit next to me.”
It’s hard to think, when the weight of three women is on your back. But based on what I can feel and hear – and judging by the position of the six legs dangling from my body – Anne is in a sandwich between Alyssa and Laura – facing her own girlfriend – while both girls touch, massage and kiss her. They are obviously keeping this a little limited in front of the other riders, which makes me truly look forward to the evening, when I am supposed to be lent to the girls. Something tells me that Alyssa will end up joining us…
To be continued...