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The Rider Academy - Part 2


I could no longer control the tears, or my thoughts: "I am doing my very best, my beautiful Masters. I am keeping you comfortable with my hands, carrying you uphill, trying to keep up with the others. Can you please stop hitting me with those sharp spurs? Or at least hit me a little less often?"

Having a silent conversation with Mandy's feet made me feel like I had gone mad. And this was only the first day on the island.

Clink. The rowel spurs hit my abdomen again. I told my thighs to work even harder, but some rocks forced me to take a couple of shorter steps and I saw the human pony next to me gain a few inches.

Clink. Clink. Clink. Three consecutive harsh kicks, all in the same exact spot, drew blood on my abdomen and more tears on my face. I caught up with my fellow slave, so Mandy could keep enjoying a conversation with her riding companion astride him.

Clink. Single kicks didn't hurt as much, but they had been hitting me every 5 seconds or so for the past hour in the same exact spot. Vicky called them "maintenance kicks" when explaining to Mandy the best way to handle me, after fastening those devilish spurs to her flip-flops during lunch break.

It all started this morning, when I could not keep up with the group towards the end of our morning hike. Mandy is very outgoing, and I could tell that she was annoyed when her conversation with Gloria was cut short by my lack of performance. So Vicky came back astride her slave and started whipping my back with her riding crop. Hidden energies were immediately found by my tired and jet-lagged body, so Mandy's ride on my shoulders could continue at a more appropriate pace.

"He just needs more pain, until the effects of his training kick in," Vicky told Mandy while whipping me. "I can't give you a whip, they are only for guides at this stage. But we'll get you fixed with something else."

I guess I still need to learn a lot about being a good slave, because part of me resented those words. Is anyone even considering that I am the smallest pony carrying the heaviest Rider? And how about Jenn? They are also falling behind, yet nobody is torturing her female pony.

As if she knew what was going on in my mind, Vicky gradually took those thoughts out of my mind with her relentless whiplashes, until I felt myself embracing the pain and focusing on Mandy's beautiful feet, feeling proud that they could lay comfortable on the palms of my hands while my shoulders sustained the rest of her superior body.

So I carried my sweet Mandy fast enough to catch up with the group. No matter how hard my lungs and muscles were working, it was nothing compared to the pain from Vicky's whip, that kept hitting me from time to time as a reminder of what would happen if I fell back again.

And so here I was in the afternoon, fighting a new internal battle with my exhausted body while Mandy's feet, looking so perfect and innocent, kept me going thanks to those sharp rowel spurs.

When my girlfriend and Owner eventually dismounted at the end of the most painful day of my life, I can't deny that I felt some resentment within my range of emotions. I was down on my knees, sweating and panting, when she turned around to look at me. Her lovely smile instantly turned into a horrified expression when she took a glimpse at my abdomen, bruised and bloody from her spurs, and I saw tears building up in her eyes. My resentment instantly vanished, and all I wanted was to comfort her. I crawled a couple of steps forward and repeatadly kissed her feet: "Thank you for hitting me, my Mandy," I tried to say, despite the bit still tight in my mouth. "I need it to become a better slave for you. Thank you. Thank you. Please don't feel guilty for one second. And it's not as bad as it looks!"

Her expression looked slighty better but still concerned as she was dragged away from me by the other girls, to go back to their rooms and get pretty for the evening. Despite the sorry state of my body, I really hoped this wouldn't make her want to quit the Academy.

As the girls left, Vicky rounded up the slaves and made us crawl in circles inside a round pen for a cool-off session. She occasionally hit our butts with a long whip to adjust our paces, until we looked like a little well-trained human train. Then she jumped on my back – right between my shoulder blades – and I kept crawling under her, trying to avoid stumbling into her crossed feet hanging by my left arm.

I was immediately surprised by how lovely and light she felt on me, although I was exhausted by the long day. Besides, her weight definitely increased my workload but it was mostly carried by my arms, which had only served as Mandy's human stirrups and thus not worked nearly as hard as my legs and back. Next I wondered why she had chosen me to ride on, and the answer was soon apparent as the wounds left by her whip that morning started hurting under the friction of her butt on my bare back.

She only dismounted when putting me away in my stall, and I thought my ordeal was over for the day. Instead, from my position on all-fours I saw her taking down her leggings and I felt her straddling me, again on the area of my back affected by her whip. She harshly grabbed my hair to pull my head all the way up, then back down, then immediately up again towards her naked crotch. I used my intuition and I started arching and bending my back following the rhythm she was setting, pushing her petite body up and down as her wet pussy rubbed all over my sweaty and sore skin. She started moaning louder and louder, and moving my head so hard and fast that I thought she would pull all of my hair off. It was incredibly painful and erotic, and I kept up with her mad rhythm until she exploded in a long orgasm all over my back, revealing to be an abundant squirter.

Eventually she let go of my hair and I felt her full weight relax astride me. Then she slid forward until she was sitting on my neck, and she pulled my hair again until I got up with my back vertical, kneeling on the ground and sitting on my own ankles. At this point Vicky placed her feet on my thighs, stood up from my neck, and pushed my head backwards until I was looking up towards the ceiling. That's when she sat on my face. Without even thinking, I started licking her pussy and tasting the sweetness of her recent orgasm. My dick was hard as a rock, but completely ignored inside my athletic shorts. Vicky allowed me to lick her for a little while, then she pinched my chin with a hand and pushed it forward, pushing my mouth open. I was startled when a little splash of her pee entered my mouth, but I swallowed and I understood what she wanted, so I kept my mouth open waiting for more. I couldn't believe how much pee could come out of such a small body, but I was able to dutifully keep up with her flow and swallow every drop. It was clear that she had totally relaxed and allowed her pee to come out at full speed, also because she farted over my forehead a couple of times in the process.

Unsurprisingly, after I licked her pussy clean, she slid forward for me to lick her ass as well. Another little fart escaped her just as I was completing my ass-cleaning job, and I couldn't believe how thoroughly and shamelessly this young woman was using me, all without saying a single word. She clearly felt entitled to using men in any way she saw fit, including my mouth as her toilet and my tongue as her toilet paper. As soon as she judged that her ass had been thoroughly cleaned, she stood up on my thighs, stepped down, and walked away without even looking at me. I had never felt so humiliated and yet so aroused in my entire life.

It didn't take me long – as the arousal started subsiding – to feel guilty. Had I just cheated on Mandy? I am nothing but a slave on this island, so I certainly couldn't have said no to Vicky. On the other hand, I am the one who booked this vacation for us. I would never have been in this situation if I had not deceived my girlfriend about the nature of this trip. The taste of Vicky's salty pee and sweet juices in my mouth was a reminder of my predicament. My thoughts were soon interrupted by two handlers – local women who always seemed to regard us as real animals – rounding us up for showers and to get us ready for dinner.

Of course that meant we were going to be all-fours chairs for our Owners as they dined, while our diet seemed to be only made of these incredibly dense and nutririous cereal bars, which maximized our performance while greatly reducing the time necessary to feed us. I also noticed that – while we were in service to our Owners for most of the day – we were never left alone with them. I had literally not had talked to Mandy for the entire day, despite serving as her pony and chair for most of it, except for my brief begging for her not to worry about my bloody marks from her spurs. I guess that was an intentional measure to make the Ladies think of us as nothing but tools and animals at their disposal, but I truly missed my Mandy.

While lunch had been an informal meal under a beach cabana for our group of five Owner/slave pairs, dinner looked like a pretty formal affair. We were taken crawling into an empty dining room with about 10 round tables, each prepared for five people. Of course no regular chairs were to be seen anywhere, so I was placed as Mandy's seat next to the other slaves of my group, this time facing away from the table with my legs underneath it. Then a small cushion was placed on my lower back and fastened around my waist.

The Ladies started showing up shortly afterwards. As the room gradually filled, I saw many Owners find their human seats and join the members of their respective groups. Most of them were petite women, but I also noticed some larger ones clearly making their human chair's back sag painfully under their weight, and an overweight woman sitting on a pair of twin males placed next to each other: her butt literally covered both of their backs!

Then I saw my Mandy walk in with her new friends, looking absolutely stunning in a Summer dress and sandals with high heels. The group was led by Vicky, while Mandy was right behind her, chatting with Gloria. I looked at my girlfriend with a bright smile, eager to be her loving boyfriend-turned-human-chair... and she walked right past me, without deeming me worthy of a single look. Then I felt her weight on my back, followed by her sandals on my calves. Her weight was entirely on me, as it should be. But why didn't she even take a glimpse at me? Had they been brainwashing her so quickly and effectively? Was I already nothing but a slave to be used without a second look, like Vicky had done a couple of hours earlier in the stables? Or perhaps was Mandy mad at me because Vicky had already told her about the way she had used me for her pleasure and as her toilet? As much as those thoughts are always very arousing to me, I started worrying about my relationship with Mandy being forever ruined after this vacation. I hoped I would soon have a chance to talk to her and to apologize about everything, but all I could do for the time being was to be her obedient chair, as her butt made my lower back sore and her heels dug painfully into the skin of my calves.

A local woman showed up and introduced herself to the Ladies as their waitress for the night. As she walked around the table to fill their glasses of water, she unceremoniously hit our arms with little kicks to make us slightly crawl backwards, so our Owners would be sitting closer to the table and eat in the most comfort.

As dinner proceeded, the conversation among the Ladies spanned a variety of topics and Mandy sounded as upbeat and relaxed as ever, making me think that she had no knowledge of my recent experience with Vicky and no reason to be upset. Then Vicky started announcing the program for the following day: apparently we were going for an all-morning hike on which we would get to wear shoulder saddles for the first time. Our hands would still be serving as stirrups, but they would be fastened to belts attached to a leather collar around our necks, allowing the Ladies to stand up on the stirrups and switch their seat from the shoulder saddle on our neck to our faces.

"That's how we are going to pee, going forward," explained Vicky. I guessed that would be similar to what she had done to me by standing on my thighs earlier. "We don't want to waste time stopping for bathroom breaks. And there are other advantages. Being used as toilets keeps our slaves subservient and it further decreases their sense of self-worth. Additionally, it will avoid having to carry any water for them. You will be your slave's only source of hydration, creating a predicament in which they depend on your body waste for their very survival. It's incredibly powerful. Just remember to pull the bit out of their mouth before peeing, or it will be almost impossible for them to keep up with your flow and things will get messy. Have all of you used a slave as a pee toilet before?"

It turned out that Mandy and Midori were the only ones who had not.

"No worries," Vicky continued. "Starting tonight, the slave assigned to you for the following day will spend the night in your bathroom, tied up inside a special toilet for you to use. The inside of the toilet is shaped like a funnel and made of transparent glass, so every drop of your pee will safely flow into their mouth and down their throat, while they will always be able to see the superior body that is using them."

"So we use human toilets before bed?" Midori asked.

"Yes, before bed and any time during the night if you wake up. And of course first thing in the morning. Then a handler will come get your slave to prepare them for the morning ride, while you enjoy a nice breakfast."

"This is all very new to me," I heard Mandy say. "Do I really need to pee in his mouth? And when you talked about the slave assigned to us for the following day, do you mean that we will start using each other's slaves not only as ponies, but also as toilets?"

"The answer to the first question is a simple yes: we talked about the need to keep our men extremely subservient, planting our seeds towards a matriarchal society. Would you rather be with one of those selfish disgusting men who demand a blowjob and expect you to swallow when they cum in your mouth? And how often will they even return the favor and go down on you? That type of man will soon by extinct, thanks to women like us. So yes, make him swallow all of your pee and consider him lucky for the honor. Regarding your second question, Mandy, as I said we will start rotating slaves within the group soon. And yes, their duties will include toilet service. In general, within our group we should all feel free to use any slave's mouth for any of our needs. We only need to ask permission to the respective Owner for penetrative sex, which should always be protected to avoid pregnancies. No worries about STDs or other health issues, as you have all been thoroughly screened before being allowed to join the Academy." I guess this also explained to Mandy why I insisted for us to get a full bill of health before going on this trip, saying that it was a good idea before traveling to a foreign country. I was really starting to regret deceiving her, feeling guilty about putting her in a situation much more extreme than I expected. I especially craved an opportunity to talk to her, to apologize, to explain, to reassure her and to be reassured.

"How about our poop?" The next question was from Gloria.

"Your bathrooms will still have a real toilet, and we recommend using that for solid waste. Personally I would have no problem using a man as my full toilet," Vicky continued. "And I have done it more than once. But there are health hazards that we don't want to deal with, and we need our slaves to perform all day long as our ponies. With that said, you are free to use your own slave in any way you wish. But solid waste is another case – together with penetrative sex – in which permission is required to use someone else's slave."

"How about the ladies at the other tables? Can we swap slaves with them too?" It was Jenn's turn to ask a question.

"We will not be interacting much with the other groups, and there will be no planned slave-switching with them. However you are free to briefly swap slaves with them during leisure time, as long as both women consent: sharing slaves outside of your group always requires the Owner's permission, including for pony riding, human chairs and pee drinking." Vicky seemed to be getting tired of the topic at this point. "Ladies, these are all good questions. But please don't be too worried about rules and limitations. You are here to have fun! It's all about your enjoyment and pleasure, and our slaves exist only to provide that to us. We should be like sisters within this group, and use each other's slaves without a second thought. In fact, let's be a little spontaneous and begin by switching chairs right now!"

Under Vicky's direction, the ladies briefly stood up and our waiter kicked us until we all rotated clockwise, becoming chairs for the woman to the left of our Owner. This means that I now had Midori on my back, while Mandy was sitting on Jenn's female slave Beauty. I must admit that I found it extremely arousing to look at my gorgeous Mandy, relaxed and dressed up, using a semi-naked woman as her chair and footrest. And it got even better when Beauty, accustomed to her much lighter owner Jenn, started visibly shaking under Mandy's weight by the time the ladies ate dessert.

I did okay as Midori's chair, although I had to suffer in silence and stillness as one of my kneepads had shifted a little off-center when moving sideways to switch from Mandy to her.

Fortunately I had a chance to quickly fix the kneepad when the ladies finally stood up, before they mounted their respective slaves on all-fours for a little ride on the beach. It was a slow leisurely ride, since the girls were all dressed up, so I was able to carry Mandy without falling behind the group even though she had no spurs on. My arms quickly became sore though, because the girls had no stirrups and so they rode us sitting on our upper backs, with their legs hanging by the sides of our heads. Just like earlier in the day, what kept this exhausted slave going was the view of my girlfriend's beautiful feet and the thought that they could be so comfortable thanks to my hard work: "You are not meant to walk, my beautiful Masters. It is my honor to suffer so that you can be transported in comfort."

I spent at least an hour as Mandy's human chair – in that same position – around a bonfire on the beach, as she enjoyed the company of the other girls. At one point a second group of five Rider/slave pairs joined us, so the girls also had the chance to make some new friends. Then the entire group of girls decided to go for one last drink at the beach bar, so I started crawling in that direction when I felt a sudden increase in the weight on top of me. It turns out that Vicky had just hopped on Mandy's lap, sitting sideways with her ankles crossed by my right arm. "Can I get a lift?" she asked cheerfully. Without waiting for an answer, she continued: "I just wanted to check in with you. How's your slave been doing? He was struggling to keep up with the group this morning, and we always want to fix that kind of issue right away."

While fighting to lift my arms at every step under their double weight, I heard Mandy say: "It's been pretty good. The spurs helped very much. I know you have been teaching us to think of our partners as slaves, that need to be dehumanized and abused for their own good. But I must admit that I was shocked to see the bloody bruises left by my spurs at the end of the day. Have I been kicking him too much? I was using maintenance kicks every few seconds like you said, and kicking harder only whenever he fell a little behind."

"There is no such thing as hurting them too much, believe me. He came here because he needs to be owned by you, and you would do yourself and him a disservice if you didn't fully embrace the new nature of your relationship. His pain will make him a better man, for himself and of course for you. In fact, don't you think he's being a little too slow right now?" Without waiting for an answer, Vicky moved her right arm around Mandy's body and started hitting my butt with her whip at a constant pace of about one whiplash per second. It hurt so much and I couldn't help but start moaning in pain. I tried to increase my pace, but it was almost impossible under their double weight sitting so close to my arms. In hindsight, I think she would have kept whipping me even if I had started gallopping at the speed of a real horse. "Doesn't it feel so right, to make him suffer while we are comfortable on top of him, being transported and obeyed?"

"Yes, I guess I am gradually getting used to it. I definitely like being treated like a Queen. I just still have a hard time with making him struggle and suffer so much," my sweet Mandy replied with a kind voice.

"You know what? You try it. I am not supposed to let guests use whips so early, but I am right here with you, so it's fine." As I kept puffing and crawling on the sand under their weight, I felt some movement as Mandy took the whip from Vicky and slashed the side of my right thigh. It was fairly harsh and painful, but for the next couple of minutes Vicky kept encouraging her to hit me harder and harder. "Yes, just like that. Even harder! Make him suffer! Aren't you so comfortable? Isn't this so deliciously unfair, yet so wonderfully right?..."

Needless to say, I was in bad shape by the time we reached the beach bar and the ladies dismounted. But I still managed to feel proud for not collapsing under their double weight and constant whipping.

Our Owners walked into the bar without even looking at us, leaving us outside to cool off. I saw a couple of my fellow slaves sit on the sand to rest their knees and arms, but I stayed on all-fours for fear of getting in trouble. Beauty looked especially exhausted, and I remembered how her arms were shaking under Mandy's weight at dinner, even before we all went for the beach ride.

Two handlers showed up a couple of minutes later and harshly kicked the sitting slaves until they got back on all-fours. Then they aligned us into a little human train. My reward for keeping the all-fours position was to be placed at the front and mounted by one of them, while the other for some reason rode on Beauty who was last in line. As a local Indonesian woman, my Rider was pretty light. But she sat right on my tormented upper back and she was extremely rough with the bridles, making the bit dig painfully into the corners of my mouth.

Once at the stables we were all washed and fed, then led towards the bungalows. This time we got to walk, probably because they didn't want us to get all sweaty and dirty again. I was led into a large bathroom and tied up under the type of toilet that Vicky had described at the dinner table. A second slave – a large male who towered over me – was similarly locked under another toilet at the other end of the same bathroom. So I assumed that each of our Owners had a roommate. I was fairly sure that they slept in individual rooms, but they shared the bathroom. However I couldn't remember if my fellow toilet was Gloria's slave or the one rented by Midori.

My answer arrived about one hour later, when I heard Mandy's voice together with another who had a slight Hispanic accent. They both sounded pretty drunk, and they immediately entered the bathroom together to sit on their respective human toilets. Mandy looked down at me for a second through the transparent glass of the toilet bowl – as if she wanted to fully absorb the fact that she was about to use me as her human toilet for the first time – then she sat down and fed me an endless stream of warm salty pee. It lasted forever even though she seemed to let it out at full speed, while chatting with Gloria and acting like she was using a regular toilet. Eventually I was fed a piece of drenched toilet paper and left alone in the dark, without a second look, as the girls went to sleep.

I was quite uncomfortable, laying on the floor with my mouth forced open by the bottom of the funnel-shaped toilet bowl. But my exhaustion won and I soon fell asleep.

I was startled when someone switched the light on sometime later. It was still dark out, but I had no idea of the time. In my drowsy state I heard the muffled steps of a barefoot woman walking on the wooden floor of the large bathroom, and I quickly saw a bubbly ass and a pair of long olive-skinned thighs as Gloria sat down and immediately started peeing. I didn't have time to wonder why she had chosen to use me rather than her own slave, because I had to focus on keeping up with her fast flow and dealing with the strong pungent taste of her dark pee, probably caused by the alcohol she had had the night before. Her taste stayed on my tongue for the rest of the night, until Mandy woke up and had her turn using me for her similarly strong morning pee.

Despite the arousal constantly creeping up on me, I kept having a thought: what had I gotten myself into?