Shannon and Sean Pt. 02

I was unable to see anything, but suddenly felt the chastity belt pulled away and a warm tongue bathing my labia. Too bad whoever it was didn't keep going long enough for me to climax; instead, the tongue suddenly disappeared, to be replaced with a hard, warm penis thrusting all the way up to my cervix. Mmm, I thought I could get used to that. Yet, before I could really get aroused, dick number two suddenly exploded down my throat, at which point that dick-head announced "Switch." The other two guys withdrew, and apparently they traded positions, because the next thing in my mouth tasted remarkably like my own cunt juices (don't ask me how I recognized that), while another swinging Richard, presumably the one that had been between my boobs, shifted down to impale my birth canal and I felt a rather limp, sticky one between my breasts, where it rapidly regained stiffness. Each of them took the time to call me every demeaning term they could think of, such as slut, skank, whore, bimbo, bitch, and so on--trouble was, I was so turned on that I had to agree with their assessment! Too bad I didn't get the fun of being so promiscuous.

They kept trading positions, and I can't remember how many loads I swallowed. What I DO know is that they never allowed me to get even close to my own orgasm, while these guys had a fine old time using every inch of the fallen cheerleader. I prayed no one was filming this, as it would have made a fantastic porno film while Slave Shannon (or I guess I'd been renamed Shamrock) got thoroughly ravaged.

And when they were finished and released me, two of them held my arms while making me rinse off in the shower, then had me use the toilet, after which they restored the chastity belt and left me thoroughly frustrated. I guess I could have gotten off by playing with my breasts, but my pierced nipples hurt too much. It took an hour to calm down and fall asleep.

The ensuing weeks were more of the same--every day we were worked until we dropped, sometimes inside the barn or--when the weather permitted--outside, pulling light sulkies like the beasts we had become. Every night I got used and teased sexually, but was rarely allowed to climax. Once a week I got horny juice shots that, on top of all this edging, drove me bats___ crazy and left me sleepless all night. I wanted to explode, but the horniness made me so distracted that I could barely think, let alone resist. I gathered that Sean (renamed Shay) got the same treatment, although we rarely got a chance to say anything without bits in our mouths and voice boxes on our necks.

Really outsized plugs held our tails, decorated with my vandalized tresses, into our butts, which just increased the discomfort. Those plugs were removed periodically so that cold enemas could flush out our large intestines; I was eating like a horse (surprise!) because of all the calories I burned, but all that happened was that my body got tighter and firmer than it had already been. Damn, I thought several times--if I ever survive this I should be the best-looking cheerleader on campus without even dieting!

More significantly, I got a good sense of what it was like to be a slave or even, for that matter, a low-wage laborer. I had almost no control over my life, but was subject to the arbitrary actions--sometimes good, sometimes frustrating--of the people who controlled me and who were, for all practical purposes, both my employers and my owners.

After about ten days of healing--carefully supervised by the cowboy version of a vet--our nipple rings got put to work by running a second set of reins from the mouth bit through the nipple rings and back to the driver. I did notice that there were springs in those reins that slightly reduced the tension placed on us, but believe me, when someone hauled on my "tit reins" I would do anything to end the pain!

Funny thing. A few days after the new reins were installed, I came to a form of mental peace. I was still hornier than the worst slut I had ever heard about, and the guys using my body confirmed their belief that I was becoming both eager and really good as a receptacle for their dicks. I didn't even try to object when they started adding my anus as a 4^th stop in their round-the-world evening sex tour. By that time, I had adjusted to the butt plug so well that their dicks only added pleasure to my use, but I still felt some residual shame when the wranglers talked among themselves about how much "the whorepony" enjoyed the feel of a cock rammed up my ass. VERY occasionally they allowed me to climax--that kind of rare reinforcement was much more effective than the unremitting edging that they had begun with. I quickly became eager to do almost anything to get off.

But being rode hard all day and rode by three hards at night actually became my new normal, to the point where "Shamrock" was almost prancing every morning when we started pony training again, then eagerly lay down and spread or knelt down to offer her ass or mouth on command. And when I was harnessed tandem with Shay--er, Sean--he seemed equally happy to be just a horny draft animal. If you had told me three months ago that we would turn into such cooperative sluts, I would have never believed it--yes, I liked sex and I'm sure my brother did too, but this training motivated us to do almost ANYTHING to get laid, without any sense of shame. About the only thing they didn't try--thank heavens--was having him fuck his sister (confession time: I was so horny by that time that, on the rare occasions when I saw him without his chastity belt, I actually thought about how good that big dick would feel in my mouth or between my labia.)

After that, if we were VERY good and our lap times improved, we were intermittently rewarded on the mounting stands. For me, that meant being bound, bent over and blindfolded, while the ranch's prize stallion, known as "Stud" (what is it with people and these "S" names? Must be related to "Spinning Wheel.") would first sample my mouth and then come around behind me on the stand to fuck my brains out! Granted, there weren't many brain cells left to expel, but it was such a joy to be screwed to orgasm by that massive shaft that I would do absolutely anything if Mistress Mary or one of her wranglers promised me another trip to the mounting stand. I gather that my brother got the equivalent treatment, being allowed to unload several days' worth of accumulated jism inside some other horny filly!

*****

(Sean O'Brien's perspective)

I admit it--this stallion was broken. If grandfather was trying to show us the evils of an ordinary slave's or worker's life, he had succeeded in spades! I'd lost track of how long we'd been there, but after perhaps a month I was in the best shape of my life, and would willingly do anything I was asked for the promise of another chance to mount a woman or otherwise get off. Of course, part of that eagerness was in response to the weekly injections as well as the nightly fondling and teasing that Mistress Joanne gave me, edging me to the point of insanity. And I knew she was aware of the effect she had--she began to have another wrangler, armed with a shock baton, standing nearby whenever she removed my restraints, probably anticipating that I might attack her and damn the consequences.

One night, when I was once again restrained to the cot and the topless wrangler was teasing me, even allowing my rigid dick to slide between her boobs, she shifted her dialogue and began to address me directly, asking me what I would do if she were willing to fuck me. I should have sensed a trick, since she had no reason to allow me between her legs, but I was so horny that I promised to do anything at all.

"Well, first," she said with a lascivious smile, "you'd need to turn over and use that tongue of yours to give me at least three orgasms." I eagerly nodded assent, and cooperated eagerly when she had me roll over, allow her to restrain my ankles in that position, and then "bend like an inchworm" in my middle, ostensibly so she had enough room to sit on the end of the bench where my head usually lay. I was mesmerized by the sight of her pussy as she calmly removed her boots and jeans, piling them neatly by the door. I thought it was odd that she removed my pillow and pushed it under my upraised groin, but by that time I was so mindlessly horny that I was not about to say anything that might annoy her.

For the next 15 or 20 minutes--I don't know how long, really--I buried my face between her soft, fragrant thighs and eagerly followed her instructions about cunnilingus. In between her own climaxes, she told me that this was part of the curriculum to train me how to service a female owner. But after the third orgasm, squirting all over my face, she stopped suddenly. Instead of sliding underneath me she calmly stood up and reached into a large canvas bag she had brought with her that night.

You guessed it--she produced a bottle of anal lube and a strap-on harness, with the latter soon wrapped around her lovely body and centered just below her pelvic bone. This rig was double-ended, too, with one shaft going into her birth canal while she lubricated the other, longer end. It probably wasn't much larger than the dildo that Mistress Willow had made me swallow at the slave market, but--knowing where that thing was headed--I thought it was the biggest dick I had ever seen. Before I knew it, she was kneeling between my bound legs, obviously preparing to skewer me.

"Oh, don't look so surprised, Shay. I promised to fuck you if you licked me, and I keep my promises. Haven't you ever wanted to put your little dickie up some poor girl's rear end?"

(Gulp). "Yes, mistress," I replied, "but that thing looks huge."

"This shaft?" She snickered. "Hell, I chose the smallest one in our toolkit to break you in. And unlike those horny little college girls you've been sodomizing, you've already had your butt well stretched by four weeks of wearing a ponytail. So relax! Now that you've practiced cunnilingus to serve a free woman, you also need to be ready to take one up the Hershey Highway if a guy wants to use you for what his wife won't allow. Or maybe the wife wants to use you herself, to establish who's in charge. Other than pony racing, pussy licking, and butt sex, what else are male slaves for?"

Put like that, I could tell there was no sense arguing--she was determined to take my last virginity, and I was in no position to make her angry. To be fair, Mistress Joanne was very slow and patient. Once she popped that monster past my anus, she pushed in a fraction of an inch before pausing for a minute to rub my back. Gradually, she worked her way in--before I knew it, I became aware of the leather harness against my buttocks while her firm boobs pressed into my back. And then I felt her arms around me, releasing that damn chastity harness. My penis felt as if it grew two feet in as many seconds. Her warm little hands began fondling my cock and balls as she slowly pumped that dildo in and out of my well-stretched bottom hole. After a minute, I was able to ALMOST ignore the strap-on while I revelled in the dual sensations of a woman's breasts and mouth pressing onto my back while those hands teased me, fondled me, and for the first time didn't stop, allowing me to blast three days' load all over that poor pillow. The whole time her sexy voice was cooing and praising me--at least, I think it was a compliment when she called me a "great piece of ass!" Damn; the release was almost worth the shafting, and I made a mental note to think about this adventure to distract myself if an actual man ever used me back there. Another lesson: there were apparently rewards to be had even in the most humiliating of situations, and a little kindness went a very long way in satisfying me.

Soon after that, the Spinning Wheel apparently decided that we were fully trained, although Mistress Mary only entered us in a few obscure races, which was fine with me--I was having fun but had enough sense to realize that the more often we were in public, the more likely we were to be recognized by someone who knew us. Instead, we spent most of our weekends being rented out by visitors to the ranch. This usually consisted of towing the visitors out to one of the swimming ponds, where the visitors would either swim or play with the ponies, or both. (Sometimes it was too chilly for actual swimming in early spring, but those women loved to tease me and the other males.) More than once, as I jogged quickly up to a picnic area, I saw Shamrock on her knees, nipples erect and arms still restrained behind her back as she leaned forward, frantically trying to bogart a cock on some overweight guy. (She later told me that what she really enjoyed was being bound across the back of the sulky while the guy or guys who had rented her did their best to fill BOTH of her holes (renters who asked got the keys to chastity belts).

I sometimes got frustrated when free women would tie my reins to a tree while they went skinny-dipping in a pond or (if it was too cold) just sunbathing in the altogether, enjoying the chance to tease a muscular guy who could do nothing but paw the ground and whinny disconsolately.

We went out for carriage rides, rain or shine, as the sulkies and carriages were enclosed so the drivers stayed dry even as their ponies got SOAKED in the cold spring rains and resulting mud. One day when it was coming down cats and dogs, I was surprised when someone walked down the line, inspecting each pony for a drive. Who would want to go out in this weather, I wondered? I got my answer the hard way when she chose me; the sadistic bitch took me for a hard run through the mud and up steep hills, all the while whipping my bottom with a wicked (and probably illegal) multi-tail whip that she had concealed in a large purse. I thought she would be in trouble when the wranglers saw how badly he had skinned my ass, but after a large cash tip they wished her on her way. Apparently she was a regular who liked to take the new stallions out on rainy days, for a sizable "extra fee." For once, I didn't enjoy Mistress Joanne's hands fondling my butt as she rubbed a cream into it, but I felt a strange sense of pride when she complimented me for "earning some good money today, stud."

Of course, being rental ponies like that increased the risk that we would be recognized, and eventually it happened to me: one day I got taken out by a single woman with a nice body who looked vaguely familiar but I couldn't place her. When she stripped down and went for a swim my cock really strained against that @#$&% belt.

Finally, she sat down on a picnic table after maneuvering me onto my knees. Unable to fuck her, I was at least glad to use my tongue and lips to bring her quickly.

And then she shocked me, not because she grabbed my head to pull me even tighter but because she moaned "Oooh, Sean, what you do to me."

I sat back, my mouth covered in her fluids, both of us looking startled and embarrassed.

"You don't recognize me, do you, Sean? I'm Amy Richards. I know, I know, 'the fat girl' from high school. God, I used to have such a crush on you. Only, it seems as if both of us have undergone some major changes. I finally got my metabolism under control and lost 60 pounds while you... well, I never expected to see you in a collar, but you're even more handsome and muscular than you used to be."

I couldn't speak English, of course, so there was no way to explain what I was doing here as a slave pony for hire. She assured me that she wasn't going to tell anyone--"who would believe me, anyway?" In return, though, she asked me for what she could have just taken. I ended up on my back, which wasn't very comfortable with my forearms still bound parallel to each other, but the payoff was worth it--that darling girl Amy unlocked my belt, climbed on top of me, and rode her pony until we both climaxed, at which point she fell forward and kissed me deeply. Then she discovered that, thanks to the Stud Juice, my dick was still hard.

Tittering happily with a "Giddyap" she rode me longer, for an even more intense climax than the last. With a mischievous look in her eyes, Amy scooted up, planting her messy muff over my mouth and sat on my face. She giggled "Get to work, slave boy," and I did without hesitation. In a flurry of activity I licked that kitty clean, getting another stiffy along the way. Well, she took pity on me and rode me to yet a third orgasm to drain me completely. To this date, I still don't know who was happier, me for getting off three times or Amy because I came three times with HER. Amy had fulfilled one of her fantasies, and I at least got temporary relief from the terminal horniness that the ranch had instilled in me. In fact, I promised myself to look her up when I regained my freedom; pussy like that doesn't grow on trees, and besides she was a nice gal whom I had overlooked because of her appearance. I guess I really WAS arrogant.

On another occasion, a couple rented me to pull them to the far swimming hole. I could tell the woman was sizing me up, fondling my muscles and so on even before we left the barn. Once we arrived, I got to feel how Shannon felt as a mare--the two of them unhitched me and then tied me bent over the back of the sulky. I couldn't see what was going on, but I was worried when I heard the SNAP of someone pulling on a rubber glove, after which my tailplug was pulled so that two fingers might coat the inside of my colon.

I was really worried that the guy was about to corn-hole me, but then somebody actually unlocked my chastity belt. At least my ego, if not my anus, was relieved to realize that the WOMAN was shafting me with a strap-on. And then, thank the lord, I felt a small, soft hand giving me a "reach around" as she pounded my back door for about five minutes. Not my favorite thing, of course, but Mistress Joanne had taught me to get some enjoyment out of being pegged.

Needless to say, my cock, which was free for the first time in days, was THRILLED by the attention, and inflated despite the "pain in the ass" she gave me. Imagine my frustration when the woman suddenly removed her hand and dismounted, leaving me mentally straining but completely frustrated.

"Don't worry, Stud," I heard her teasing voice as both of them worked to release my restraints. "I just want to save that champion-sized dick so I can use it as I intended."

A few seconds later, I found out what she meant. They made me lie down, wrists still restrained, with my back against the seat cushion they had removed from the sulky. And then, praise heavens, I realized that she had removed her strap-on harness and was bare below the waist. Not a bad looking woman, either--red hair, huge boobs (without a bra, apparently), and an expression that told me she was as horny as any filly--including Shamrock--on the ranch. Almost casually, the woman straddled my waist, guided my penis between her labia, and then sank down, impaling herself fully. I don't know which one of us moaned louder!

That woman must have done 100 squat thrusts every day, as indicated by the apparent ease with which she pumped up and down, her breasts swaying as she spewed an unending stream of horniness about what a stud I was, how good my dick felt, and this was the reward that GOOD stallions got for behaving. Neither one of us could last with that kind of physical and mental stimulation; it must have been only three or four minutes before she went rigid just as my over-stressed rod fired its entire load up into her. Then she collapsed, breathing hard, onto my chest. I was still bound, but at least I could feel those magnificent mountains of flesh pressed against me! Talk about pony boy heaven.

A few minutes later, after she recovered a little, she dismounted (my shaft was still slick and partially erect) and then grabbed another cushion and a riding crop from the sulky. She plopped herself down on the cushion with her legs spread giving me a view of her well fucked pussy with my deposit leaking out.