Spring Break On A Texas Estate

SPRING BREAK

CH 6

I watched as Maria sucked Eric's cock, expecting he would come in her mouth. I was surprised when he pushed her away and motioned to me.

"Your turn now, Mrs. Albers."

My son Tom walked in and leaned against the door jamb as I knelt in front of Eric. I put my lips around his cock and automatically crossed my wrists behind my back. I felt Maria lock my cuffs together. I wriggled my butt to thank her.

I sucked Eric for a few minutes before I felt his body begin to tense up. Knowing he was about to come, I edged sideways slightly and looked at Maria. She crawled forward and joined me at his cock. I sucked and Maria nibbled his balls with her lips. I looked up at Tom and paused to blow him a kiss. Just then Eric spurted cum into my face. I tried to put my mouth back on his cock but Maria shouldered me aside. She engulfed his cock and caught every drop of his cum. She grasped his cock in both hands and pumped furiously. Eric's back arched, his hips thrust forward pushing Maria back. She pulled her mouth off his cock then went into a sort of frenzy. She rubbed his cock against her face until her nose and forehead were sticky with cum. I dove back in and buried my nose in his balls. Eric slumped back in the chair for a moment, took a long deep breath, then thrust upward again and spurted another juicy mass into the air. Maria gasped in delight as it hit her squarely in the face.

Eric sighed contentedly and pushed Maria away. He patted my head, as if I were a dog, permitted me to clean his crotch with my tongue. When I finally drew back Tom shoved his cock toward my mouth. I almost toppled over when he slammed forward against my face.

I sucked my son until he too came. Maria slid between his legs and placed her face below his cock. She caught all the cum that I couldn't contain. She said later that she just didn't want to have to clean the carpets, but I knew better. Maria just loves the taste of come.

Eric lolled in the chair, then spoke without opening his eyes.

"You may return to your duties, slave maid," he said to Maria.

"What about Mom?" Tom asked. "She makes a good maid."

Eric opened his eyes and looked questioningly at me. I smiled and nodded. He waved us both away dismissively.

We went to my room, washed our faces and changed into maid's uniforms.

My husband liked to dress me in French maid costumes and over the years collected dozens, for me and Maria. I have a closet full of them.

I put on a blue silk dress with white lace trim. The dress has an open bodice that exposes my breasts and a very short skirt that flares out over a stiff white petticoat. The skirt is so short that my pussy is visible. I put on white shoes and stockings, added a white bow with long trailing ribbons to my hair, then buckled white leather cuffs to my wrists and ankles and a wide white collar around my neck.

Maria chose a scarlet dress with black trim. It also had an open bodice and because of her huge breasts she has to wear a shelf lift open bra in matching scarlet. Her skirt was skin tight but also so short that it left her pussy exposed. She wore black shoes, black stockings and black cuffs, and an enormous red bow in her hair. The contrast of the red ribbon in her rich black hair was stunning.

Eric's eyes widened in awe when he saw us. Tom grinned proudly.

"Maria as soon as you get your work done you can have the afternoon off," Tom told her. "You too Mom, if you help her."

We curtseyed and set about cleaning house. Eric seemed to be more alert now, and he watched us as we dusted and vacuumed. We tried to be diligent in our duties and just couldn't always be ladylike. There were just too many times when we had to bend over, squat and crawl under tables to get the house clean, and I'm afraid the boys got quite a show.

Anne came down stairs while we were working. She took one look at us and gasped. "Oh my God!" and fled back to her room.

Tom explained to Eric that if a maid didn't do her job properly it was the duty of the master of the house to discipline her, and in the absence of the master, any male house guest could assume the duty, so each time one of missed a bit of dust, or failed to replace a vase or lamp correctly we were bent over Eric's lap and given a dozen spanks. I'm afraid that Maria and I got so flustered that we began making lots of mistakes, and got a number of spankings that morning.

At one o'clock the boys decided that we had done a good job and permitted us to knock off. We went to my room and showered. I drove us to town and went to my favorite spa. We spent a wonderful afternoon soaking in hot mud, steam baths and getting massaged.

The massage therapist didn't comment on our whip marks, I've gone to her for years and she's seen them before.

After the spa we went to a coffee shop and splurged on latte and pastries. I ate so many goodies that I felt guilty. Maria waived away my doubts.

"The way those boys have tortured us, we deserve a little self indulgence," she said. "Besides, if we gain a pound or two, all we have to do is ask the boys to work us hard as pony girls. Remember your movie star friend?"

My movie star friend was my college roommate. I won't mention her real name, I'll call her 'Jane'. She majored in drama and went to Hollywood after college and made it big. She is now a very famous actress. She was my bridesmaid and was shocked at the reception when my husband tied and whipped me in front of the wedding guests. It took a lot of explaining on my part to make her understand how things were in my new family.

After John and I returned from our honeymoon I talked to Jane for hours and hours long distance and she finally accepted that I adored slavery, and a few years later, on a visit, she allowed John to tie her up.

Like so many actors, Jane is an exhibitionist, and she loves being bound and looked at. She wasn't into pain, at least at first, that came later, but she did like simple bondage and sex.

A few years into her career she gained too much weight and was being turned down for roles. She called me in tears. She was frantic to lose weight. She had tried all sorts of diets and personal training, but nothing worked.

I told my husband about Jane's problem. He called her and told her that he guaranteed that he could make her lose weight, if she came to the ranch for at least three months and obeyed his every word. Jane was pathetically eager to try. I warned her that my husband probably had a regimen of strict pony training in mind, and that she had better be prepared for a rigorous time. She was so desperate that she was ready to do anything.

When Jane arrived John stripped her naked on the front driveway, locked a slave collar and cuffs on her and led her around to the stable. Inside he hoisted her off her feet and whipped her until she was screaming in real pain. He deliberately raised serious welts on her skin. She was terrified that he had scarred her permanently. After the whipping John left her hanging all afternoon.

That evening John washed Jane's body with cold water and locked her in a horse stall. He told her that she would be put through long hours of very hard training every day, and if she didn't work hard he would whip her until she had permanent scars. She cried and cried and begged to go home, but John simply shackled her ankle to a long chain and left.

Jane slept on straw with only rough blankets, ate a carefully controlled diet and drank only water. In addition to helping her lose weight, John decided that Jane was too haughty and needed to be brought down a few pegs. Each morning he made her crawl on her hands and knees to the paddock. Poor Jane, she was wealthy and world famous, a glamorous and elegantly beautiful woman, crawling naked behind my husband.

John started her simply trotting around the paddock. He let her build her strength slowly and was careful to allow her plenty of rest. She would trot for half an hour, and rest for ten minutes. John increased her times until by the fourth day she was trotting for two hours at a stretch.

Jane worked hard, and the results were soon obvious, but the poor woman was miserable. She wasn't used to slavery, and didn't get the sexual arousal that would come later.

I felt so sorry for her that I asked John to let me join her in the stable. He joked that I was already a pony girl, why not let me be a stable pony. He stripped me and led me naked to the stable. Poor Jane's eyes lit up when he shackled me in the stall beside hers.

Every day we trotted endlessly in the paddock. Even though I was an experienced pony, the training was hard at first. I discovered that I needed the exercise.

John ran us barefoot on the soft dirt at first, but after a few days John put us in training shoes. We wore hard rubber hooves weighted with real horse shoes. They force our feet into a pretty, but painful arches and until we got used to them our feet ached terribly at night. They are so heavy and clumsy that they forced us into a thudding, plodding gait, but they quickly strengthened our legs. Jane was fascinated by the horse shoe prints we left in the dirt. Until then we had run with our arms simply tied behind, but John began binding our arms tightly up behind our shoulders. Its harder to run that way, but sexier.

After each run we were walked until we cooled, then John washed us down with a hose and bucket. Jane shivered and whimpered at first, but learned that complaining only got her a whipping. Of course my husband's hands on her body might have warmed her a little, they certainly warmed me.

When she grew accustomed to the routine and stopped complaining John occasionally rewarded her by fucking her bent over a barrel or fence rail. Sometimes I was given a little reward too, but since John was concentrating on Jane, she got fucked more often than me.

Jane told her friends and family that she was going away to a private and secret weight loss clinic, and to keep anyone from getting suspicious John permitted her to make phone calls to people. She would chatter away as if everything was perfectly normal, while all the time she was actually naked sitting cross legged on the floor of a slave stable while shackled to the wall.

Up to that time Jane had never been whipped or even spanked sexually. She cried and cried the first few times she was whipped, bur my husband was a natural master and had a talent for driving women absolutely wild with his whip.

One evening she watched me go completely over the edge as John whipped me into an earthquake orgasm. He stretched me off the ground between posts and did the 'triangle strokes'. He went from my right breast to my left breast to my pussy and then back, over and over and over. He whipped me with a light bull whip and I came so hard that I convulsed. John left me hanging for a couple of hours and when I regained my sanity Jane was watching me with a thoughtful look on her face.

The next day she deliberately messed up and got whipped. She didn't cry or flinch away. She kept her eyes on John, with that sultry smoldering look she is so famous for in her movies, and begged for more in the deep throaty voice that is her trade mark.

John saw that she had turned the corner into slavery and spent the rest of the day torturing her. Poor me, I was locked in my stall and had to listen to Jane laughing, gasping and moaning just outside. I listened to her screams too, but they were now the screams that a slave makes just before she comes.

After that Jane threw herself into training with a passion. She rubbed against John when he harnessed her, she made eyes at him and tried to entice him every chance she got. I would have been jealous, if a slave were permitted jealousy, but I knew that even if my husband decided to keep her permanently, I would still be his slave too.

John had me demonstrate pony heels for her. The shoes look like regular high heels, but are stronger, have a wider heel for stability and have ankle straps. They require a lot of practice and concentration because one misstep and a pony girl can end up with a broken ankle. John dressed me in full show harness with plumes, bells, colored leather and heels. Pony heels are best on a hard surface so John marched me around the driveway as Jane watched. Jane's eyes teared as she watched me prance and trot and gallop round and round. John put me through an old and basic show routine, and when at the end I bowed so low that my plume brushed the ground she was sobbing. She threw herself at John's feet and begged to be harnessed that way. She groveled and kissed his feet and promised to do anything if she could only learn to do what I had just done.

John worked her, and of course me, very hard for the next few days. Jane never complained and worked with fierce determination until finally John dressed her in heels, harness and plumes, and allowed her to see herself in a mirror. Jane stared at herself for ten minutes. She told me that she almost had an orgasm. Just looking at herself.

We were run for two hours each morning, then trained as show ponies. John trained us to prance and dance, to trot and run as a team. We worked hard on rhythm and coordination, and learned a number of precision dressage routines. We enjoyed that training, even though we wore heavy ugly brown training harness, and soon performed every routine in perfect unison.

A few times John had guests over and put us on display. To protect Jane's identity he covered our faces with helmets. heavy bit straps, blinders and plumes. Jane was afraid someone might recognize her, but being the exhibitionist she is, she almost wanted them to. She loved being trotted out for John's guests and didn't complain at all when we were given to them to suck and fuck. I wondered what the men would think if they knew that the naked pony girl on her knees sucking their cocks was a world famous actress.

At night we slept in the stable. For the entire three months we never set foot in the house or wore clothes. Our chains didn't permit us to reach other so we couldn't have sex but at night we would spread our legs and play with our pussies. That was fun, but nothing like being tied down and fucked silly. On a few occasions, when we'd been exceptionally good, John tied us together mouth to pussy and let us eat each other. One lovely night he left us that way all night long.

When our show training had reached near perfection John added cart and chariot pulling to our curriculum. Pulling a chariot is quite different from trotting and it took Jane a few days to adjust. She soon learned the subtleties of starting smoothly, keeping a steady rhythm, and slowing the cart from a dead run to a smooth stop. In only a few days she was pulling a heavy cart with ease. As she grew stronger John added sand bags to the load. Jane prided herself at being able to trot for hours pulling the heavy cart. She ran easily, her breasts out, her head up, and a proud sparkle in her eye. She excelled at pulling a sulky. The large wheels and excellent balance makes them easy to pull and every pony girl finds herself wanting to gallop. It is exhilarating to pull one.

John often raced us against each other pulling carts or chariots or sulkies, and at times he hooked us back to back in a tug of war, and whipped us mercilessly until one us of collapsed in exhaustion. The winner was rewarded with a sweet whipping and the pleasure of my husband's cock.

Like many new converts, Jane went head over heels into chariot racing and loved being driven around the ranch. John usually paired us up and we would trot happily along in the sunlight. One wonderful day he loaded a picnic basket in a chariot and drove us away from the house. We trotted for miles along a dusty road to a pretty grove of trees. If I hadn't been a slave I would have worried about being seen, for we were away from the private part of the estate, and there was a chance we might meet up with a ranch hand or a neighbor.

At the grove John unhitched us, spread out blankets, and let us play in the stream. We ate delicious food, and John fucked us both several times. We napped and ate and wandered around and had the most wonderful time. The sun was setting when we trotted up to the stables. John washed us down, then locked us in the same stall. Jane and I slept in each other's arms that night.

Two months into Jane's training John entered us in a race.

He drove us to another pony ranch. We rode naked and bound in the horse trailer. Jane's eyes widened when she looked out and she saw all the other naked ponies, male and female, being led around by their owners. She gasped in awe when she saw a woman riding in a shoulder saddle atop a male pony.

"I didn't know men could be pony slaves," she whispered.

"Lots of male ponies," I told her. "And you'd be amazed if you knew how many corporations that particular one owns."

"Look at the way she's riding on him, and how easily he caries her," she marveled. "I wish I could do that."

"Unfortunately, most female ponies aren't strong enough to carry riders," I said. "But I agree. It would be wonderful to have a man riding on you, wouldn't it?"

She nodded, then gasped as she saw a tall handsome man leading a male pony by a ring through his foreskin. The pony's cock was large and erect, and several people patted him on his butt as he walked past. The owner stopped to chat with a plump middle aged woman. While they talked she grasped the pony's cock and masturbated him. The pony was soon near to coming and his owner slapped her hand away.

"Oh no you don't," he told the woman. "He doesn't get to come today, I promised his wife." They laughed.

"His wife? Aren't the male ponies gay?" Jane asked.

"No, not all of them," I said. "I happen to know that one isn't."

"But his master is a man," she said. "Look, the master is squeezing his cock and another man is patting him on his butt."

"That's not his real master," I said. "He belongs to a woman and it looks like she loaned him to that man. Perhaps they traded slaves for the day."

"But, , ," Jane's eyes were huge.

"A slave is a slave," I told her. "Male or female, we must obey our owners."

"Even if the slave is straight?"

"Sure. His mistress loves to humiliate him and makes him suck other men's cocks all the time."

"Even if he doesn't like it?"

"Yup. All he has to do is say no, but then his mistress would turn him away and he'd no longer be her slave. I guess its important enough that he is willing to do things he doesn't like."

"Wow, that's dedication," Jane marveled.

"Well, now that you've gotten into slavery, is there anything you would refuse to do for our master?"

"No," she said firmly. "I'll do anything he wants."

I smiled at her.

"But its different for women," she went on. "Most men aren't naturally submissive."

A burst of laughter came from the group around the male slave. The master was stroking the slave's cock, watching that he brought him close, but not too close to coming. The poor slave's knees were trembling and he slowly sank to the ground. The people laughed louder.

"That poor man is in for a long day," I commented.

John entered the trailer and put us into harness. He strapped us into beautiful red and yellow tack with gold Greek warrior helmets topped by magnificent red crests. The helmets cheek and nose pieces covered our faces and protected Jane's identity. The finishing touches were lush red tails that rose from our butts and nodded as we walked.

We attracted a lot of attention as John walked us through the crowd, and we were both soon quivering with excitement.

John tied us to a hitching rail and wandered off to mingle.

John entered us in several races, individually and as a pair.

In our family pony girls are run differently from most others. Some pony girls are allowed to grasp the traces in their hands. Not us, we run with our arms tightly bound up between our shoulders. Most drivers whip their girls on the back and legs. In our family the men use long buggy whips that reach over our shoulders to whip us on our breasts and bellies. A whip snapping on a woman's pussy is a strong incentive. I've run against women who even wore leather bras to protect their breasts. Not us, we have to jiggle and bounce and ignore the pain.

We usually win our races.

That afternoon Jane won a long distance trot, I won a sprint, and as a team we won a chariot race. She told me that being led into the winner's circle was more of a thrill than winning her first Golden Globe award.

"Of course, I wasn't naked at the Golden Globes," she said.

One rainy afternoon John showed Jane his special chariot.

He had that horrid thing made for me years before. I was terrified of it then and I am terrified of it now. It is the most cruel machine ever designed for a pony girl. He called it the 'Lightning Bolt'

To begin with, the poles are longer than normal. They extend four feet past the belly band, and have little pulleys on the ends. Thin steel cables run through the pulleys and are attached to unspeakably cruel nipple clamps. The other ends of the wires are wound onto a reel on the dash board. The clamps hurt like fire to begin with, but when the reel is tightened it feels like my breasts are being pulled off. There were times when my husband tightened the wires until I was running bent over at the waist.

Another unique feature is a thin tempered steel rod that hooks to the face of the chariot and runs between my legs. It is clipped to my belt by a small chain. It's thin enough not to interfere with my stride, but I feel it with every step. Dildoes can be attached for my pussy and ass, and they do interfere with my running. I've never run a race wearing dildoes, but John has made me trot around the ranch for hours with them in me.

An automobile battery is mounted in the chariot and connected to the nipple clamps and the pussy rod. John controlled the voltage with a foot pedal. No matter how tired I was, a jolt of electricity was usually enough to get me running at top speed.

The chariot has another electrical device. It is something called an alternator and is on the axle. When the thing is on I get a continuous shock, but if I run fast enough, a rotor on the axle spins fast enough to cancel the electricity. If I slow down the electricity comes back.

I hate that horrible chariot.

John showed Jane another of his inventions. A thing he called his "Spur".

It is a pair of curved metal hooks shaped like the letter 'S' mounted on a swivel. The thing attaches to my harness at the small of my back and a strap is connected to the top of the hooks. When the strap is pulled by the driver, the hooks curve down and the points jab into my butt The spur has changeable points, ranging from fairly dull ones to a set that is three inches long and needle sharp. The thing scared me to death the first time I saw it, and it still scares me.

I only pulled the "Lightning Bolt' one time in competition.

We were at a meet in Bermuda and John entered me in the "unlimited class". Unlimited means that the driver can use any method to encourage his pony girl. He buckled the spur with the longest sharpest points to my back, clipped the wire clamps to my nipples and gave me a slight jolt of electricity. Then he showed me one other feature. He had a new buggy whip with a cluster of tiny fish hooks on the tip. John told me that if I ran one step beneath my potential I'd get the hooks in my pussy.

I was so terrified that I almost peed myself before the race, and I shook so that my breasts jiggled uncontrollably.

I won every race that day. I even beat Ayisha, the famous Turkish pony girl who had never lost a race. She was owned by a member of the English royal family and her owner was so furious that he challenged John to another running and offered an enormous sum of money as a prize. I beat her again, by a full length. Her owner was so angry that he whipped her half to death and sold her on the spot. Then he offered my husband a small fortune to buy me.

John received a lot of offers to sell me that day, some reached six figures. One beautiful and wicked lady from Argentina offered half a million dollars for me.

Even though he refused to sell me, John and the Lady from Buenos Aires reached an agreement where they swapped slaves for the night. She got me and my husband got four of her slaves. It was a good thing that I wasn't entered in any races the next day, because I got no sleep that night and when she and her entourage were through with me I could barely walk, much less run a race.

That lady is very determined and called John several times over the years upping her offer each time. Its quite flattering to have someone offer a million dollars for a simple housewife and mother like me.

Now that Mark is master of the estate I've thought about having him call her and offer to loan me to her for a few weeks, however she's notorious about not returning things. Still . . .

I know that Mark wants to run me in the Lightning Bolt. I hate the thing, but I've decided for his twenty first birthday I'll let him do it.

When Jane finished her three months she'd lost all the weight she wanted and more. She went back to Hollywood with a bounce in her step, a sparkle in her eyes and a jiggle to her boobs. She met and married a man who enslaved her on the first date. He is a famous screenwriter writer. She asked me to be her bridesmaid, and since they had to have a showy Hollywood wedding, she didn't get whipped at the reception. They had their honeymoon at our place though, and she and I spent two delightful weeks back in the stable.

As Maria and I munched away on our pastries I decided that she was right. If I ever begin to get fat the boys can run it off me. I ordered another Danish..