She Said Yes - A Covid-19 Story Ch. 10

"You're really good at it already."

She smiled, pulled her top down over her head and flipped her hair free. She left. I thought about it. I realized Julie was leaving my bed and probably going to Amanda's. I had to get up. There was laundry to do and I spent most of the afternoon in bed with a woman who says she likes me.

I got the sheets dried and folded. I still have no idea how to fold a fitted sheet. It never comes out right, but at least it is better than simply wadded up like I used to do. I watched a YouTube clip. The young woman made it look easy. I still can't.

Thursday morning Amanda announced the pony was sanded smooth and the varnish dry. It was almost ready for a rider. She had me help by holding the pvc pipe in place along the top of the sawhorse. She drilled and put a screw through each end.

The pony was taller than most sawhorses. Amanda had added a two by four to the base of the legs on each side, parallel the top rail, and one more that rested on them across the middle, making a step, kind of like stirrups. She said it gave the pony a stronger base.

"Jump on. Step up on here and throw your leg over." She pointed to the board that crossed between the legs of the pony. By standing on my toes on the board, I could keep myself off the pipe. I tried resting my weight on the pipe between my legs. Even through jeans, I could tell this would become uncomfortable quickly. I got off. The pipe was held rigid by the 2x4 beneath it. It was completely unforgiving. If anything was going to give way it would be the flesh pressed upon it.

"See, that's all there is to it. After lunch, when Julie gets here, we'll get you waxed and ready for your ride. I'm confident my client will enjoy our video. Why don't you prepare lunch while I install these screw eyes?"

We had an early lunch so there would be time for several takes. As Amanda predicted, the waxing was a lot easier the second time. I like feeling clean. Amanda hand-held the camera as Julie ripped my hair out once more. No one had to hold me down this time. I got to watch Julie concentrating on my cock and balls. Not as good as watching her suck on them, but appealing nonetheless.

She was thorough. There was no hair left. As she inspected her work, my prick responded. She gave it a quick tug. "I see you think I did a good job."

The pony ride went differently than expected. I expected horrible. But this is Amanda, things are designed to be unexpected. It was beyond horrible. After waxing, I was already naked except for a Covid mask. There would be no cushion between my newly hairless crotch and the hard, narrow pipe.

Our pony video began with me kneeling at Mistress Amanda's feet. She was wearing my very favorite black leather corset. It has lots of silver metal buckles, most of which, I think, are only for show. But they have an intimidating effect on me.

It's a sweetheart over-bust that really shows off Amanda's assets, but I never look. I've seen it in her gallery on her web page so I know something about how her breasts fill it in. (And if you believe I've never looked while she has me bound to a St. Andrew's cross, well...).

The corset is long. Yet she wears it effortlessly, as if her perfect body is unconstrained by its structure. To me, it makes her look as if she has on armor, impenetrable and untouchable. It is the rest of the world that is constrained, not her.

The narrow waist and flair at the hip are so compelling I forget to admire the way the corset accentuates her breasts. Today she has added suspenders holding up dark thigh-high fishnet stockings. Her shoes are strappy black platform heels with small metal buckles. She is perfectly intimidating.

Still, all that fades to the background when I realize she is wearing a black thong. I've never seen her wear a thong before. I've never imagined her wearing a thong. I may be used to the contrast of breast and leather, but the implied vulnerability of the thong is overwhelming. This chink in the armor is intentional. It is all I see. Female flesh, Amanda's flesh, unexpectedly revealed, remaining untouchable.

It's not like she has been demure around me. In fact, her bikini does not leave much to the imagination. But context drives expectation. Bare shoulders are simply not the same thing. I am completely distracted by her choice of underwear. She is perfect in every way. I cannot take in this visage, this contrast of flesh and leather. It is so much easier to put my forehead on the floor and assume the position of supplicant.

I do. On knees and elbows, I wait. I have a fleeting glance at her shoes as she silently walks around me on the carpet. I close my eyes and listen for her instruction. I know I am to ride the pony. I know it will be tortuous. I know I will suffer. But she built the pony. She is my torturer. She will enjoy my suffering.

"Up, boi."

I stayed on my knees, coming to an upright kneeling position. Mistress Amanda had me put on leather wrist and ankle cuffs. She made me tighten the ankle cuffs. I had trouble with the cuff on my right wrist. She buckled it for me.

"Do you see that pony? It is ready for you to ride. You get to be the first to ride, to break it in, to take its virginity. Aren't you excited?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I only hope to be worthy."

"You should be begging for the opportunity to ride, boi. Don't you want to have a little pony ride? Doesn't that sound like fun, boi?"

Please, Ma'am. May I ride your pony? May I, please Ma'am? I'll be good."

"And what do you think makes you worthy of my pony?"

"I am not worthy so much as to gather the crumbs under your table. But please be merciful and allow me the favor of a ride."

"Let's guess who will break first, you or the pony?"

"Thank you, Ma'am." I went back to my supplicant position.

Julie took the camera and followed Amanda as she gave a short tour of the pony. She made a big deal out of how solid and unshakable it was. "It can easily carry the weight of two people," she exclaimed.

Julie continued to video as I mounted the pony. Without jeans, it was actually easier to lift myself off the pipe by standing on my toes. Mistress Amanda admired the pose, but then bent down to clip my ankles together. Bending in a corset is not easy. She knelt and leaned in under me. With ankles cuffed together, I was not getting off the pony without serious injury. But as she stood, I was looking down at her breasts encased in leather. That image never fails to get a rise out of me. I felt my prick move.

Mistress did something odd. She used short zip ties to attach a spring-loaded nipple clamp directly to each wrist cuff. I watched. She was as attentive to her work, as I to her chest moving with each breath. The corset forced shallow breathing. I so enjoyed the effect on her cleavage, I forgot about her thong.

I know these clamps; their bite can be vicious. Their jaws are rubber coated; they don't come off easily. The springs are very strong, but there is a thumbscrew that can lighten the pressure if she chooses. A choice she rarely makes.

Amanda asked me to cross my arms and put my hands on my sides. This allowed her to put the nipple clamps on me. As long as I held my sides, the clamps would not pull on my nipples. She adjusted the thumbscrew; the pain was intense, but tolerable. I did not want to move my arms. I took a long breath. As long as I could stand on my toes, I didn't have to sit on the pipe. All I had to worry about was protecting my nipples by not moving my arms.

Amanda decided to take a short break while I was occupied with the clamps. She got out some more wrist and ankle cuffs and a two-sided gag. Taking the camera from Julie, she mounted it on the tripod. Together they adjusted the lights. Now it was time for Julie.

"You two are going to be gagged. I will be watching carefully. If you need this to stop, start blinking your eyes quickly. We will pause whatever is going on and I will check to see if you want a break, or if you need for things to stop entirely. Do you understand?

I nodded. Julie said "Yes, Ma'am."

Then it was Julie's turn to strip and kneel. From my perch above the action, I enjoyed Mistress Amanda's corset and its effect on her body. Even more, I enjoyed Julie's nakedness, highlighted by black cuffs. I watched on tiptoes, my hands firmly holding my sides. My nipples got used to being clamped, the pain lapsed. I was free to dwell on female flesh.

Then Mistress Amanda picked up the penis gag. I was curious about it. There were two rather short silicon penises, each about three inches long, or perhaps better described as one double ended dildo, 6 inches long, with straps attached in the middle. Thick and solid, the gag was clearly designed for two wearers facing each other with a realistic silicon penis head in each mouth. Julie opened wide to accept one side. Rubber straps held it in place. The second short prick projected from her mouth. Mistress coated it with lubricant.

Mistress Amanda did something I'd never imagine her doing, not in a million years. But now what she did is placed indelibly in memory. She commanded Julie, "Worship my ass!" Amanda bent part way over and stuck out her butt. That part seemed normal. But then she reached around pulling her thong to one side. Julie knelt and began to press the protruding short penis directly into Amanda's ass. Amanda moved her hips so the dildo went in. They did several takes with the camera at a close-up so the client could see it go into Amanda's ass.

Mistress ordered Julie up on the horse with me. I was expecting this, but I wasn't sure how it would happen. Amanda put the chair from the desk part-way under the pony for Julie to step up on, making Julie much taller than I.

Mistress Amanda cut a slit in my mask in front of my mouth. Then she ordered me to take the gag in. As I got close, I could smell the mixture of lubricant and musk from Amanda's ass. I held my breath and opened wide. I had to lean forward and up to get to Julie's height. Amanda was quick to buckle the straps behind my head. I had the taste of Amanda's ass in my mouth and Julie's eyes inches from mine.

The penis stretched my jaw. It was very tiring, very quickly. At first, I tried pushing saliva out of my mouth to get rid of the taste. The penis gag and upward angle made that difficult. I swallowed. But there was Julie before me. I could not see her nakedness, our faces locked together around a common double-ended prick. My mask caught most of the drool coming from Julie's mouth. Amanda was working on Julie's wrist cuffs. I surmised she was adding nipple clamps like mine.

Mistress took the clamps off my nipples. I hate the moment the blood comes back in. It really hurts. To make matters worse, Mistress Amanda always rubs them as if that will help. It's pure torture. But, on the bright side, the clamps were off of me.

I lowered my arms. They were getting tired from being held up so long. Amanda took one hand and put it on the side of Julie's breast. She did the same with the other. I guessed she put my clamps on Julie. I couldn't see it, but I could see the jolt of pain in Julie's eyes. I tested it out by moving my hand. Julie quickly shook her head no. The gag moved in my mouth, renewing the taste of Amanda.

Then Julie's hands were on my sides and clamps again on my nipples. Putting nipple clamps back on is so much worse. My eyes watered as Mistress Amanda tightened the clamps and tested them by pulling. I couldn't move my hands without hurting Julie, and she me. We were trapped, staring into each other's eyes, the taste of Amanda in my throat, my jaw aching.

I felt Amanda tugging on my ankle cuffs. "Let me have them," she said. I relaxed my toes for a moment and she pulled my feet back so I could no longer lift myself off the pony. She tied them so my legs hung uselessly below me. I tried lifting them. I was not going to fall off the pony, my ankles were secured to its base.

Amanda removed the chair Julie was using. I assume Julie's legs now hung uselessly as well, tied to the base of the horse. I'm a bit taller than Julie. Without the chair, the dual gag now forced her to look up, me to bend down, our mouths connected by that double ended dildo, drool that escaped my mask now ran down to her lips.

Nothing about our predicament was comfortable. The pipe on the top of the pony put unbelievable pressure on my pubic bone unless I rotated my hips back. I had to lean forward to match Julie's height. My spine held in a curve by muscles unused to the strain. My jaw ached from being forced open. I could not move my hands for fear of tugging on the clamps pinching Julie's nipples. My feet and legs were totally useless. The grinding weight of my body was supported by only the rigid pipe between my legs. I had to be conscious of my balance, constantly readjusting for Julie's movements.

I could see the distress in Julie's eyes. She, too, could not move her hands, her wrist cuffs clamped to my nipples. Her weight supported only by the thin pipe. She began this low throated moan, constantly moving in a vain attempt to avoid the distress. Mistress Amanda, for her part, seemed genuinely pleased. She walked around us, touching us, pushing on us. Feeling the flexing in our thighs as we struggled to stay upright.

"Well, we are two minutes into our ride. The pony is doing great, no sign of stress." She shook the frame. My god that hurt. Julie closed her eyes, but did not blink.

"How are you two doing? No problem for the pony, maybe a little stressful for you? Let's have a look."

Amanda took the camera from the tripod and did close-ups. She pushed the camera between us to video the pipe and the nipple clamps. She videoed from below and above. All the while the evil pony did its worst. I felt I had to move my feet so I could feel them, but it hurt. I tried rocking my hips a little forward to relieve pressure in one spot, but that just created renewed agony in another. I resolved to stop moving at all and to concentrate on breathing.

I could feel Julie's movements. She never stopped rocking front to back. I knew exactly what she was doing. I read about it, doing my research. She was trying to find a position with less pain, but this effort only caused her more pain. It is the evil part of the ride, the constant movement freeing one small spot only to cause excruciating pain in another, then back again. Without any way to center ourselves upon the pipe, it was a constant battle just to stay upright. Becoming unbalanced meant the pipe cut into softer flesh.

I tried lifting Julie from the pony by squeezing her sides and carrying some of her weight myself. I could not do it for long, my arms are not that strong. Plus, the effort made it feel like the pony would split me in two. The stress caused me to forget to breathe. I almost lost balance. I pulled myself back into position by flexing my legs against the ankle restraints.

l had to squeeze her rib cage tightly to lift her. The second time I tried, as I lost balance, my left hand slipped. I caught her by her shoulder, that part was OK, she didn't fall to the side. But my wrist was no longer in line with her breast. The clamp was pulled up and off her nipple. That must have been excruciating. Julie screamed through the gag. I saw a momentary flutter in her eyes. But then she closed them.

Amanda asked, "Julie, look at me. Blink twice if you need this to stop." Julie did not yield in her side-eye look at Amanda. She shook her head no, causing me to shake my head no. Drool escaped my mask and ran down the penis gag to Julie.

I didn't know what to do. I pressed the palm of my hand onto Julie's side to steady her. Amanda reached in with one hand, holding the camera with the other. "Here, let me fix that for you," she said as she put the clamp back on Julie. "We don't want that to happen again, maybe I should tighten it down."

Amanda not only tightened that clamp, but the other three as well. It was pure agony as she tightened mine. Then she went around twisting and pulling on each one as if to test their holding power. Momentarily I forgot about the horror of the pipe digging its way through my perineum for fear of Amanda's nipple torture.

Again, I resolved not to move a muscle. Not so with Julie. She kept moving and moaning. She was shaking, her eyes closed. Worrying about her took my mind off my situation. I concentrated on the feel of her breasts in my hands, the arch of her eyebrows, the perspiration on her body. Her gasping moans were not unlike the ones I heard as I sucked and licked her clit.

I thought about replacing the pony with my tongue. In the midst of agony, the thought of my tongue instead of the pony brought me solace. I thought about licking the very area of her body the pony was abusing, bringing her pleasure where the pony brought distress. I imagined my tongue, that now tasted Amanda, deep in Julie's ass.

Once more, I felt my prick move on its own across the pipe. The amazing sexual being before me, struggling in pain, as if in relentless ecstasy, absorbed my attention. Her body, wet with sweat, and wet with drool from my mouth, was now causing my cock to drool. She, beyond all expectation, was irresistible in her suffering. I left the horror of the pony behind, knowing only the bliss of endorphins and the captivating beauty of the suffering woman to whom I was bound.

Centering myself in the moment, focusing on my breathing, being aware of Julie's breasts, I got through the remaining time. The pain was excruciating, unstoppable, impossible to tolerate save for the place to which my mind retreated. Nothing to do but endure, I willed Julie to endure, to conquer the pony. I was transfixed by her quiet sobs and tears.

Amanda kept walking around us. Taking close-ups, pushing, sometimes pinching, she seemed to like rubbing Julie's body. It caused Julie to sway. I held her steady, my hands on her sides, her breasts.

"That's all the time we have, boys and girls. The fun is over. Let's get you down from there."

Amanda put the camera on its tripod. She took the nipple clamps off Julie first. My hands were free, a moment later Julie's as well. Did I mention how much I hate it when Amanda rubs my nipples after the clamps come off? I tried twisting away from her only to come off balance and pinch new areas under my crotch on the pony. This time I could use my hands to steady myself on the rail.

Amanda knelt and untied my feet, although she left my ankles clipped together. I could lift myself with my toes once more. It was hard. At first my legs didn't want to work. But I persevered. I did it. Steadying myself with my hands on the pipe, I lifted my weight off the pony. Julie was not so lucky. Her feet couldn't touch the cross piece.

I did what came naturally. I put my arms around her and lifted. Our mouths still locked together, her body against mine, I had leverage lifting from her waist and below her hips. As I lifted, I felt her body relax into my embrace.

Amanda undid the straps on Julie's side of the gag. Julie freed herself from the gag and put her head on my shoulder. Amanda got the chair and helped her to dismount the pony. Julie knelt on the carpet. I waited patiently. My legs were beginning to cramp up a bit, standing on my toes.

Then Mistress Amanda reattached my wrist cuffs to my nipples! I was left standing on my toes, dildo gag deep in my mouth, my arms crossed, vicious nipple clamps in place, and that hateful pony between my legs. I stood on my perch as the background for a video of Julie worshiping Amanda's feet. I watched from above as Amanda removed her thong entirely! She sat on the end of the bed. Julie continued her worship, moving up between Amanda's legs.

My back and jaw aching, I had to hold my sides to keep my exhausted arms from moving the nipple clamps. The worst was the cramp in my right foot. I had to move it, flex it, but my ankles were locked together. I had to move both legs. It forced me to sit once more on the damn pony. My world collapsed down to the alternating torment of cramping legs and excruciating pain on the pipe.