A Twisted Path To Happines Ch.1 (F/M, M/M, bondage, and... - 5/3/2012 8:28:18 PM
|
|
|
kinkracer
Posts: 4
Joined: 10/18/2011
Status: offline
|
Chapter 1
Meeting Her:
I suppose you could say our meeting wasn’t typical. In fact I think it is pretty unique. No other guy I know can say they met their wife while bound, chained to a man’s chariot and pretending to be a horse.
It was the annual “Race Weekend” and Steve wanted to enter Mike and myself in the chariot class. So here we were, side by side, a matched pair. We both had our arms bound behind us. Mike in a single glove. I was too muscular for that, so Steve had made do with leather restraints and the wrists and above the elbows. We wore leather strap harnesses that were connected to the chariot. We were further decorated with the standard, required cock and ball harness. The tight, biting straps imprisoning our cocks prevented any embarrassing “stallioning” as it was called. Further straps around the scrotum pulled the balls down, squeezing them and displaying them prominently, while also providing support during our equestrian exertions. They were deviously designed so any “stallioning” caused not only great discomfort to the penis, but tightened the noose strap between the balls. Indeed, it was both stimulating and uncomfortable.
We also both wore the requisite “tail” that was a large fake horse tail hanging between our legs. This was accomplished by mounting it on a truly monstrous butt plug that was also held in place as part of the strap harness. Between the plug and the cock and ball harness, we could exert ourselves fully, but we were constantly reminded of our status at this event.
Steve had just finished warming us up with a canter around the paddock area. Our race was to begin in about 20 minutes. He was walking us to cool us down and let us catch our breath when I noticed her walking towards us. We were sweating in the warm midmorning heat of the summer day as I spotted her through the haze of dust and pollen typical on a farm.
She was beautiful, of course. She was striking in her costume for the day, the omnipresent tight riding breaches on her powerful thighs, knee high riding boots with silver spurs. Her white blouse was buttoned about 2 buttons low to be the proper country lady she was dressed as. Of course, she was carrying a riding crop.
It wasn’t the beauty that struck, me though, it was her presence. Her self-assurance, confidence, and genuine joy she was taking in this spectacle. She was amused by this without being scornful of it. I immediately got the feeling that she would be exactly the same at a conservative cocktail party as here at human chariot races. I should have been embarrassed to meet such a beautiful woman like this. I was trussed, plugged, strapped and a human horse for a gay man and his lover. As I stood there, dripping sweat, my chest heaving, I was not embarrassed, but I felt very conspicuous and self-aware. I felt like there was a giant arrow pointed to my cock and balls saying “look at me!”
But, instead of being embarrassed to be seen by her, her manner made me almost proud. Everything about her demeanor made me feel like in her eyes, I was exactly where I should be, dressed completely like she would expect me to be.
She coolly strode up to us and smiled up at Steve in the chariot. It was poor etiquette at Race Weekend to address the horses, and so she looked right over us and greeted Steve warmly.
“So, you’ve got two this year?” She said taking a step back to look us over. First she walked to Mike, and patted him on the head. “This is the same old nag you’ve had for a while” she looked at Steve with a mischievous grin, “But this one…” she sidestepped over to me and cupped my chin in her hand, her sharp, glossy red fingernails digging slightly into my neck, “this one is neeeeew.” Her gloriously shiny red lips stretched out the last syllable.
I should say that at these events, handling of steeds is not considered rude. One wouldn’t have any issue walking up and petting a friend’s dog, and the etiquette is same here. The breach would have been treating us as anything but property. The illusion, as much as possible, shouldn’t be broken during the weekend.
Just her standing that close to me and touching me with those red, red fingernails had me testing effectiveness of my harness. If I wasn’t wearing it, I would have been “stallioning” like crazy. Instead, I was straining against the already tight straps, and because of the devious design of the harness, it pulled my scrotum even tighter and squeezed my balls out even further.
Her nails (attached to her hands) moved down to my nipples as she was talking to Steve. “Oh, where do you find them?” She said wistfully. “How come all the big, dumb boys like this are gay?”
Steve laughed, “Oh, he’s not gay, not dumb either, actually.”
She took a step back and gave a mock calculating glance “Well, from where I’m standing, he looks kind of gay.” They both laughed.
“No, he’s my little straight boy. He’s a bondage freak. He is just so naturally submissive. I just tie him up and play with him. That’s what he really digs.”
“Reeeallly” she purred as she reached down and grabbed my tightly constricted balls, “you don’t say.”
I stood up on tiptoes as those nails began digging in, and breathed a hiss of pain.
“His balls are quite nice, but I’m disappointed you would present a stud so poorly groomed.” She ran her nails through my chest hair and then raked them up and down my hairy arms. “If he was mine, he would be so much smoother!”
Her nails moved back to my nipples and idly played with them as she and Steve exchanged small talk for several minutes. She never stopped pinching, pulling or teasing them, but never once overtly acknowledged my existence. Much like you would scratch behind the ear of a friends dog while chatting.
Eventually Steve informed her that we needed to continue our warmup. She waved, but as she turned to leave, she paused and slapped my ass.
“You wouldn’t mind lending him to me so I can enter the horseback race tomorrow, perhaps?”
Steve laughed, “Tanya, get your hands of my straight boy!”
“Oh, I think he likes the idea” she said glancing down at my cock. Parts of skin were bulging through the straps. The thought of her riding me like a horse was causing me no end of agony due to that harness!
“I thought you had a mount, anyway. What happened to him?”
Tanya got a rueful look on her face as she cupped my balls and pretended to closely examine my harness. “Ohh, let’s just say he couldn’t keep the pace to be at this race. He just didn’t measure up” She laughed and hefted my package signifigantly.
“Oh, well, see you later, good luck in the race.” She called as she turned and walked off. She was clearly showing me her ass in those skin tight riding pants. Her ass was everything you would expect from those powerful, athletic legs. And the boots. Good lord, the boots! Twice she turned her head, coquettishly, to glance at me staring at her as she walked away.
Like I said, a hell of an introduction to your future wife.
The race was a challenge, but we won. Our main competition was a fiery little mistress with two incredibly fit slave girls. I found out later that the blond, short haired one, who I cleverly nicknamed “Bob” for her haircut, was an ex college track star. Her massive sprinters legs and thick round ass rippled with muscle. The other one, a ponytailed brunette, was a Cat 2 bicycle racer and had thighs that looked like she could crack coconuts between them. My clever name for her was “Ponytail”.
The race started out as a dead heat between us. The other competitors fell away quickly. If Mike had been my equal, we probably would have pulled away from the girls. He wasn’t, though, and with me doing all the work and Steve being much bigger than their tiny owner, it turned out to be quite even. We were all sweating and breathing hard as we came to the last turn, no effort was being spared. The event was unorthodox, but we were three highly trained athletes. The little dominatrix was whipping the girls frantically with her crop to drive more effort, while Steve just gave me my head gave Mike and occasional swat to motivate him to help me out.
On the last turn, we were neck and neck and Ponytail was right next to me on my left. I saw her slip in a little patch of mud and that was all the advantage we needed on the final stretch. I could hear Spitfire’s crop smacking over and over again and the girl’s grunts of pain as we passed the finish line. The words that she was directing at her slaves were not ladylike!
Steve was pleased. After he took us back to the stables, he washed us down in our stall. Our hands bound together and pulled up to hooks in the ceiling. Our bare feet were pulled wide apart on the cold concrete floor, secured with more rope to some handy barn support posts.
He had removed all of our harness and straps, and, oh so thankfully, the tail. As he rinsed me down with warm water from a hose he told me that as a reward, he was going to let me do “corral night”. This caused Mike to laugh out loud, which earned him a dirty look.
Of course, I was a horse, so I did not dare reply. It’s a mistake you make only once, at least with Steve.
I could hear shrill screaming in a female voice down the hall and the repeated slapping of leather on flesh and feminine squeals of pain. I guess poor Bob and Ponytail were getting quite the workover for their performance.
Corral Night, as Steve explained, is always held on Saturday night of race weekend. Masters may choose to turn the slaves loose in the breeding corral. They are free except their hands tied behind their backs, and harness gags. There is to be no speaking between livestock. The illusion is to remain, blah blah.
“Whatever happens in there, happens.” Steve said. Aside from actually injuring another slave, a stallion was free to almost take whatever he could. Animal rules of dominance were in force. Responding to the (of course) unspoken question in my eyes, he ruefully told me that yes, a stallion could take anything he wanted, even other stallions.
I started to squirm in my bonds. He told me I could choose not to go, but the little dom we had just beaten had told him that as punishment her mares would certainly be out in the corral. He thought there would several others as well.
I also said that, despite everything it was still a game. No one would get injured, nothing like that.
I had not actually had sex with a woman since kicking Tracy out 2 months previously. The thought of getting between the muscular thighs of Bob or Ponytail was very stimulating. From the instant and very enthusiastic “stallioning” I displayed, he knew my answer.
With my hands tied behind my back, and my collar chained to the eyebolt, I was left in relative comfort to rest, while Steve took Mike back into the breeding stall, locked him into the breeding stocks and took care of his own needs for the rest of the afternoon.
The sun was just setting as Steve led Mike and I out by our leads to the Corral. Mike was dressed in his shiniest harness, tail in and cock harness in place. He was washed and oiled and his hair was perfectly slicked back. A show pony. I was naked, except for my wrists bound behind my back, my harness gag and the big dollup of lube Steve had worked into and around my ass. “Just in case.” He had said with a smile.
I looked around through the soft light as we ambled down to the breeding corral, a large enclosure demarcated with painted white board fencing. There were many more stallions than mares, and we were all proudly presenting. I could see Bob and Ponytail being roughly led in front of us by their still obviously angry mistress. A few other mares were present. Steve had told me that almost none of the other stallions would be interested in them, however. Most female owners did not like watching their stallions breed, even with slaves.
What did worry me was the looks some of the other stallions were giving me. I put it aside and concentrated on Bob and Ponytail. Their legs and asses were so beautiful and muscular. They were grace in motion.
As we were all put in the corral, the masters, mistress and non-participating slaves retired to nicely appointed tables and chairs surrounding it. Tiki torches were being lit to replace the dying sun. Candles burned on all of the tables. Mike and the other slaves not in the corral began bringing food and drink to their masters and mistresses.
Once in the corral, several of the stallions had already gotten started on each other. One was on his knees presenting his ass to another. Over in the corner, two were standing and rubbing against each other in foreplay. Several gave me questioning looks but I turned away. There were four large guys, almost my size all standing together, looking around like predators. All four swiveled their heads as I entered. I ignored all of it. I had my targets in sight.
The spectators started laughing and clapping as two guys attacked a third. They knocked him to the ground and one sat on him while the other forced himself between his legs and started trying to work his turgid cock in. “What happens, happens” Steve had said. To be honest, the victim didn’t look all that upset about it.
I walked, no strutted, over to the corner where Bob and Ponytail were hanging out. Another stallion was already there, displaying for them. He was a skinny little guy with a pot belly, thick glasses and pale, pockmarked, white skin. The girls seemed unimpressed, almost hostile, in fact. Both turned to watched me walk up. I was much bigger than the other guy and pretty much just pushed him aside and presented myself to them.
Bob turned her nose up to me but Ponytail walked up and nuzzled my chest. I nuzzled her hair and she looked up at me and nodded. That was all the invitation I need. I gently, but insistently used my chest to push her back against the fence and into the corner. She backpedaled frantically to keep up with my pressure, but she didn’t resist.
I ground myself against her and she ground back. She lifted her leg and set her foot on the lower log of the fence. I entered her roughly and took her hard and fast. God it felt so good to be inside a woman again!
She rode me back, wrapping her heals around my waist as I pushed her against the fence. I held on to them with my bound hands and continued to pound into her. I slowed for a minute and could see that we had quite an audience. Her mistress was seated a few feet away and was watching raptly. But, I sensed something else and turned to the right and saw HER, my future wife, focused on me, with a sardonic, but very amused, smile. We locked eyes and the sight of her and the eyes was all I needed to send me over the edge.
I came with an actual horse like groan, and I came long and hard. Ponytail went over the edge with me and high pitched squeals came from her gag as she pushed off the fence and drove herself into me relentlessly.
As we both caught our breath I felt warm skin on me back. I could tell it was female by the breasts and nipples pressed up against me. Bob. They worked together to turn me around and pushed me up against the fence. For a while the two of them just rubbed themselves against me. Their small breasts rubbed on my chest and arms. I bent me knees and braced my legs and they each mounted a thigh and started grinding.
The product of our first coupling was leaking out of Ponytail onto one thigh, but my other thigh was becoming nearly as moist from Bob’s obvious building excitement.
The feel of these two fit, muscular women, and especially feeling their powerful legs wrapped around mine had a quick effect on me. What a site the three of us must have made! My own tall, muscular body being climbed on by these two beautiful specimens of fitness must have looked amazing.
I was ready for Bob now! The two of them pushed me down to the ground with their shoulders. I rolled over on my back and ignored the pain of laying on my hands as Bob straddled me. Her leg and ab muscles rippled as she lowered herself on me. Her small, perky breasts jutted proudly from her shoulders being pulled back.
She threw her head back as she rode me, her hips grinding on mine in a front to back motion. Ponytail lowered herself on my chest facing Bob and ground herself into me as she leaned into Bob. The nuzzled each other and rubbed their breasts together. I had a spectacular view of her sprinters ass as she rubbed her pussy on my chest. I was amused by the many red marks on it from her punishment for losing to me. Oh well!
Soon enough, Bob clenched her powerful thighs and drove her pelvis into me as she came with a powerful groan. Of course, with my hands tied and the two of them sitting on me, I couldn’t even move to help her out, and she used me like a dildo as one orgasm after another racked over her.
Finally, she was finished and they both rolled off of me. I was now ready for my fun, and thought to turn the tables on Bob. Just as I started to get up, I was surprised. A large, hard cock was in my face as a large, hard man straddled and sat on my chest. I was again pinned down with my bound arms underneath me.
Two other stallions straddled my feet and forced them wide. Finally the 4th worked himself between them and took me, roughly. I submitted to the inevitable and relaxed into the fucking. He didn’t finish quickly, but finally he pulled out and shot all over my cock, balls and stomach. Leaving me a sticky mess. That’s when I again glanced over to see if SHE was watching this. She was. We locked eyes again and I could see her hunger, her joy at my humiliation. My deflating cock went back to full stallion from the look of unbridled desire she gave me.
They tried to shift positions so another one could have a go at me, but I was ready for them and fought them off successfully. The all shrugged and sidled off, looking for other victims.
I stood up and looked around. My cock was still turgid and I needed a place to put it! I saw Bob and Ponytail being led off by their mistress. Damn. I scanned around and there were only a few mares left. The closest one was a mousy, slightly pudgy little girl with some bad tattoos and piercings. She was sitting, indian-style, in a desultory fashion on the ground. I walked over to her and looked down on her, my cock practically slapping her in the face. She saw me covered in sweat, grass, cum and other women’s juices. She made a shaking motion with her head, making her face piercings jingle slightly. The distasteful look on her face was obvious even with her gag in.
I was feeling very aggressive, especially after being taken like that, and I really wanted to come. “Whatever happens in there, happens” Steve had said.
“Take her!” I heard a woman scream. Another tattooed, pierced woman in a latex dom outfit was seated on the outside of the fence, watching raptly. Clearly she wanted her little slave girl to get bred tonight.
I figured that was all the permission I needed. I kneeled and drove my shoulder into her roughly. She went onto her back, pinning her bound arms. I was on top of her and between her legs before she could roll away. She fought a little, but I didn’t care. I took her hard fast, driving her into the hard ground with each thrust. By the third thrust she was driving back and screaming. We both came quickly and hard. I rolled off her and left her panting and dripping. I walked away quickly before I shared her fate again!
I needn’t have feared. The gang had found another victim. He was the skinny little guy I’d pushed out earlier. He was fighting wildly but was vastly overpowered by the goons. A very large woman spilling out of a black latex dress stood right on the other side of the fence clapping wildly and cheering them on. I found out later that he had somehow displeased his mistress greatly. She had arranged with the owners of these stallions to make him pay. The 4 of them took turns on him well into the night while his mistress shared a few bottles of wine with their masters.
As Steve walked up to the fence to put my lead on and lead me out of the corral, I again noticed HER watching me. She was chuckling, and her eyes were gleaming. She smiled her bemused smile and gave me a little golf clap. At that moment, Steve jerked my lead and I had to turn and follow.
That was my first and only Corral Night. I would be back to Race Weekend again, but with a different owner, and Corral Night was not on the table.
|
|
|
|
Profile
New Messages
No New Messages
Hot Topic w/ New Messages
Hot Topic w/o New Messages
Locked w/ New Messages
Locked w/o New Messages
Post New Thread