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Author’s Notes: Ok, just wanted to let you guys know how the story’s going to go from here. I’m going to write more chapters, and already have several ideas for them, but I’m also terrified of eventually getting bored and leaving people with a story that’s cut-off. So, for now this will be the last chapter with a real arc to it. That’s not to say there won’t be continuity between chapters, but future chapters won’t introduce any dangling plot threads unless I can think of any ideas for multi-chapter arcs that are just amazing. I can, however, tell you that for the moment all future chapters will contain at least two parts: (1) A section in which Ryan acquires a new slave, and (2) a section which further develops pre-existing characters (either a slave or one of Ryan’s friends) through their interaction. I want to make sure that I don’t end up creating a ton of throwaway characters (well, except the slave dealers of course, and even those might end up coming back if they prove popular) who never develop, and I really feel like Tom and Arnold need some time in the spotlight (but, yes, this will involve BDSM).
Horse and Trainer
After acquiring Ottawa I decided to take some time off from buying slaves. While Ottawa had to leave on weekends for puppygirl training, on weekdays she and Jill happily clambered to please me. Jill cooking and cleaning furiously, and Ottawa rubbing up against my legs. All in their efforts to win a place in my bed for the night.
Or, at least that’s what I half-jokingly told myself. Jill was every bit as studious on the weekends, when she knew she had no competition for the night, and when Ottawa was there I usually gave her orders to orally service Jill and myself once or twice a day each, and frequently allowed Jill to return the favor in some manner. The truth was, I just had two slave girls who were honestly eager to please their master.
Ivy, in the mean time, I merely kept around the house for my amusement. Tom and I had turned dressing her into a game. We bought her bikinis, and before giving those to her trimmed the bras with scissors, so that they were within mere millimeters of revealing her nipples. We were both certain that there’d be a “wardrobe malfunction” and we’d be able to blame it on her clumsiness sooner or later. But, it never came. Ivy was amazingly skilled at wearing such clothing, and the game was finally starting to bore me after three weeks.
So, I decided it was time for my final slave purchases: my ponygirl and trainer slave. I’d already sent away for five more horses, four mares and a stallion. I wasn’t really sure if I was going to ride them, but I agreed with Ivy that it would be far too easy if the only thing my trainer slave had to do was watch my ponygirl all day, and try to earn a spot in my bed at night.
This time I was quickly able to pick a trainer on my own. Arnold’s father specialized in ponyslaves, and I was quickly able to confirm through Arnold that he carried Quarter Horses. So, once again, we were off. Ottawa seemed a bit sad to see us go, but Jill expressed enthusiasm in meeting the new trainer slave (and, though she would never admit it, I could sense she wouldn’t mind helping us make the life of a bitchy Quarter Horse hell as well).
This time the drive was much shorter, and Arnold’s father managed a ranch only about twenty minutes from my house. Tom came along once again with Sarah, naturally I brought Ivy, and Arnold had agreed to meet us there with his father. I had finally given up on humiliating Ivy, so I merely had her in a white dress, even letting her have a long skirt.
From the outside the Hadden Ranch appeared no different than any other, if perhaps a bit smaller. There were several buildings that looked to be stables, and grass-covered tracks and pastures for exercising the stock in. I was surprised that there were no ponygirls out running around, but I quickly realized that it must, again, be because of me. Even though I had said I wanted a Quarter Horse, Mr. Hadden must have decided to have every slave ready for display, in case the need should arise.
Mr. Hadden and Arnold, no longer with Sweet Cheeks in tow, met us at the gate to the Ranch. They both wore denim shirts and riding hats. Mr. Hadden was a strong, well-built man, in contrast to his skinny son. However, they both smiles brightly and happily. We left the driver in the car, as we went out to greet Arnold and his father.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ryan,” said Mr. Hadden, shaking my hand. “I’ve heard so much about you from Arnold.”
It was clever of him, I thought. Rather than emphasizing his business relationship to me, he was greeting me as a friend of his son.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” I replied.
Mr. Hadden released my hand, and began the questions. “So, you’re sure you want a Quarter Horse? You understand the name is because their contracts are shorter, right?”
“I understand,” I said. “But I can live with that.”
“Very well. And, you want a trainer slave?”
“That’s right too,” I said, “I don’t want to hire anyone. I want to own another woman.”
Mr. Hadden smiled. “Well, I think we can arrange that.” He let out a whistle, and out from the barn eight naked women, all appearing to be in age from eighteen to twenty-five, and all both skinny and short, marched out in a rehearsed manner and formed a line running in front of the door, with all the girls facing me. They stood at something resembling attention, but it was clear that attention hadn’t been a major part of their training. There was no effort by them to conceal their playful smiles either. I also noticed that this group wasn’t made up of ethnically diverse women, but of six whites and two blacks. I could imagine that trainers slaves probably didn’t sell that well, so more likely than not they were simply recruited from local high school graduates who had experience with horses, and were light enough to ride a pony girl. At the very least they knew to remain silent. There was a single giggle, promptly silenced by a sharp look from Mr. Hadden. It was over so quickly I couldn’t even tell which girl it came from.
“Now,” said Mr. Hadden, “as I understand it you’re also bringing in some real horses for her to train?”
I looked from the girls to him. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Thought so. I make sure they get some practice with real horses, so they don’t get rusty if need be, but one piece of advice: Most slave owners like to keep their slaves naked and barefoot, but if they’re going to be riding they’re going to need riding britches, a helmet, and riding boots at the very least. It’s no problem riding a pony girl, but their legs would just be raw by the end of the day if they don’t have the pants for the horses, and horses shit a lot more than ponyslaves…of course, that just means that if you ever really want to punish them badly, you can take away the boots and britches for a day.” I caught looks of discomfort on the faces of all the trainers. I got the impression that every one of them had experienced that.
I glimpsed up and down the row. It took only a moment before I pointed to one. All the others backed off sluggishly, as if remembering after a moment they were supposed to wait behind her while I examined my first choice.
Mr. Hadden chuckled as we walked up to her. The girl had brown hair, slightly darker than Jill’s. It had been cut to shoulder length rather than allowed to grow free, presumably to avoid interference with riding. “So, why this one?” he asked.
I pointed to her boobs.
Mr. Hadden laughed. “Is that all?”
“It’s not just that I like them. It’s that she has them, and that says something. All the girls are skinny, they have to be. But, all the others were flat-chested, which meant being trainer slaves was the best deal they could hope to get. But, this one…well, she could have gone for more as anything, even a maid. So, why did you make her a trainer slave? Because she loves working with horses, and probably has a lot of experience with them. You probably never even intended to sell her, just use her for training. But, you were determined to make sure I left here satisfied, so I’d come back. So, I’m the only one who’s likely ever gotten to see all the merchandise.” I smiled knowingly at him, and he laughed.
“Ryan, you are a smart kid. Yeah, I’m gonna’ miss Amelia here, but she’s yours. Gonna cost ya extra, though.”
I turned back to her. “I think she’ll be worth it. Won’t you, Amelia?”
“Yep!” she said excitedly, then paused. “…yes, master.” She shrunk back a little, but I got the impression she wasn’t afraid of being hit, so much as fulfilling her role as slave.
I smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m not looking for another shrinking violet. I want someone who can get a little rough with a spoiled brat ponyslave.”
Amelia’s eyes came up, and she had a big excited grin. It wasn’t the kind of general happiness grin I saw on Jill. I got the feeling she was imagining the poor, unfortunate girl who would soon find herself under Amelia’s crop…and possible of my crop coming down on her own rear a few times.
Mr. Hadden dismissed the other trainer slaves, and led us inside the stable. Ponygirls were lined up on both sides of us. They walked on two legs, fitted into hoof-like shoes, and their arms were handcuffed behind their backs, with a chain attached to the handcuffs that ran up to the back of a collar around their necks, to further immobilize them. Mr. Hadden explained that, in addition to running and walking, they required a series of push-ups daily to keep their arms from atrophying due to otherwise constant immobilization. It was the only time their hands were loose, and they were closely watched, to make sure they didn’t attempt to relieve their sexual frustration (this was always a problem with Quarter Horses, since they didn’t really want to be slaves, they had no reason to even try to resist their own urges). Aside from this they were mostly naked, although a few had a bridle on or some harness-related leather straps on their bodies, which covered nothing.
“These are all the quarter horses ready to be sold. Our standards are a lot lower than for the other ponyslaves, though. We know customers like to break them in themselves. They’ve all learned to shit and piss in their stalls or on the trail with people watching, and they…usually…don’t speak unless asked a question or ordered to.”
I began to walk around inspecting them until I came to a sight that shocked me.
“Cynthia!”
“You keep lookin, cause I ain’t going nowhere with you!” the ponygirl arrogantly said.
Like a flash Mr. Hadden was in the girl’s stable, his crop raining down on her ass, Cynthia let out yelps and then sobs, but knew better than to move. “Pony’s don’t talk!’ Then he turned back to me. “I’m very sorry, I apologize.”
I wasn’t even paying attention. I was too focused on Cynthia. She had curly black hair, and tan skin that caused many to mistake her for Hispanic. She was actually just mixed, from a black mother and a white father. She was short, and broader shouldered than most girls, giving the illusion of more bulk than she actually had. Now that she was stripped naked in front of me I could see that. Both her parents were fabulously wealthy. She went to my high school, where she was a princess and a brat. I had asked her out once, and she literally spat in my face. Now that I thought about it, it was really no surprise her family was putting her through this.
“No,” I said. “It’s fine. In fact, I’m pretty sure this is the one I want.” I glanced over to see Amelia, looking up and down at Cynthia’s body. Her smile told me she was gleefully imagining all the torments she could put the girl through.
“You sure,” said Mr. Hadden, looking uncertain. “Most customers want to try before they buy. You should really take a blow job, at least.”
I almost laughed out loud. “Ok,” I said. “I will.”
Cynthia looked horrified at the prospect of sucking off a loser like me, but whatever she was about to say caught in her throat when her eyes glanced down to Mr. Hadden’s crop. She fell to her knees, and I unzipped my pants.
I had heard she got around a lot, and by the quality of the blow job, I had to agree. Almost immediately her tongue began caressing my dick in just the right way, and she took it all the way in on the first try, deepthroating me like a champ. I began to moan, but I was determined to last. I noticed a clock at one end of the stables, and began glancing at it. I wanted to make her earn this! I placed my hands on the back of her head and began forcing her back and forth slightly faster, more to establish dominance than because she was too slow.
Three minutes.
As she went, I tried to think about something else. Unfortunately, this proved harder than I expected, now that my entire life was spent surrounded by nubile women. I finally settled on baseball, but this was hard to focus on because I had never been a sports fan.
Five minutes.
I had to make it to ten. I was sure I could do it. I began tugging on her hair, making her flinch. Her pace slowed from the pain a bit.
Six minutes.
I could feel the cum in my cock. I focused all my will on stopping it. Then I glanced over, and saw Amelia standing straight up, apparently not allowed to lean against the stable wall behind her, smiling. And I exploded.
Cynthia choked for a second, seemingly more from the force of the ejaculation than from the amount. But, a moment later she swallowed. I pulled her away from my cock by her hair, and gave her permission to stand again.
“I take it you’re satisfied,” asked Mr. Hadden. I was glad to see that no one seemed to be laughing at me. I guessed seven wasn’t too short, especially when in the middle of a business transaction.
I glanced at Ivy, who gave an approving nod directed at Cynthia, and another towards Amelia. Tom was also smiling pervertedly, and Cynthia’s terrified glancing seemed to be jumping from me, to him, to Amelia.
“Yes,” I said. “I believe I am.”
Interlude 3
Cynthia’s first few days at my estate were fun for everyone even without her getting fucked…well, fun for everyone except Cynthia herself of course. Amelia took her out for daily rides, and Tom was over at least daily to give her a good whipping. I allowed her to suck off Tom, but decided that I wasn’t yet ready to fuck her, and didn’t want anyone else to do it first. I even gave Jill a turn with the crop a time or two for good behavior. Sadly Ottawa, in her role as a dog, couldn’t use such a thing. I thought Ottawa was far too gentle anyway.
I decided that, while I chose Amelia first, Cynthia would bear the “III” and Amelia the “IV” mark, since Cynthia was the reason Amelia was here. Of course, with the brown riding pants I allowed Amelia to wear, no one could see the tattoo, so I purchased her several pair of riding pants with the numerals emblazoned on them
On the second day of her stay Cynthia was horrified when I had a man come in to pierce her nipples, and even more horrible when she realized her nipple rings were specially designed to attach to stirrups for Amelia (sadly, the only one light enough to actually ride on Cynthia’s back). She even blurted out that her nipples would be ripped off, and was beaten until her entire rear was blue and black for it. In truth, Amelia knew exactly how much pressure to apply to the stirrups, and how much to place on the back, to keep Cynthia in constant pain during a ride, but unharmed and functional as a pony.
Finally, though, I decided it was time for my first ride. I had Amelia place Cynthia in a bridle and harness attached to a cart. The harness was carefully designed to leave her breasts, ass, and pussy still fully exposed. And with a quick snap of my whip, we were off.
Cynthia’s legs were stronger than they looked, and I even had to hold her back at first, as we darted across the grass and trees of my estate. I could tell she wasn’t paying attention to where she was going, so I had to steer us away from flower beds a few times. We circled the estate three times, before I decided to drop her off at the stables again. I considered giving her another flogging, because the ride had left me hard as a rock. I decided I didn’t want to punish good behavior, though, so I simply had her suck me off.
Interaction 2
After Cynthia was put away that night I gathered all my other slaves together in a small study of my fathers. Ivy was in her room. I had begun to grow bored with her. Ottawa lay curled up at my feet chewing on a rope toy, as Jill served Amelia and myself tea, and stood there smiling, nude, and holding the empty tray as she waited for us to order more.
I had decided that Amelia, as a trainer slave, would be allowed to interact with her master far more casually than the others. So, she sat in my lap sipping her tea, and waiting for me to periodically kiss her neck and face. Her riding pants were still on, but her free hand kept wandering to them, as if expecting me to order them off.
I nuzzled Amelia’s neck. “You want me to use you, don’t you?”
“Of course, sir!” she said, eagerly.
“And if I chose Jill for the night? Would you object?”
“Of course not, sir!” There was no insincerity in her voice. Not just that, she seemed horrified by the idea that my choice of bedmates could bother her. She was entirely mine, and wanted it no other way.
I turned my attention to Jill. “And you? Who would you rather I used?”
“Whoever you want, master,” said Jill, just as sincerely.
I turned my gaze to Ottawa for a second, but didn’t even bother asking.
I smiled. “I think it’s time to end my contract with Ivy.
Finale
I sent all the girls to bed except Jill, they would need their strength tomorrow. Jill, however, helped me to set up a small, portable platform in front of my bed. The platform had stocks on top of it, which we adjusted for Ivy’s height, to make sure she’d be bent in just the ideal position, as well as foot restraints, positioned to hold her legs apart. Next, we loaded weights underneath the platform, to make sure that no amount of struggling Ivy did could move it even an inch. Jill was then told to go to bed as well. All of them were told to wake at 10 the next morning, and Jill was to feed them quickly, so that they could be ready.
I then went to the guest room, and told Ivy to report to my room, nude, at exactly noon the next day, to end our contract. She smiled and nodded, understanding.
The next day she arrived, on time to the millisecond, and completely naked. I pointed to the platform, in front of my draped bed. She mounted dutifully, and I locked her neck and wrists into the stocks, and strapped in her legs. She squirmed a bit, making sure she was truly helpless. She smiled, looking at me as the little boy she knew couldn’t bring himself to harm her more than a slap or two when push came to shove, no matter what delusions of dominance I might have.
I mounted the platform behind her. I stuck a finger into her, and she let out a slight moan. She was still tight, and just slightly wet…it felt like lotion, though. I entered her slightly, so that her pussy lips just barely covered my glans, and then I immediately pulled out, jumped down, and walked over to my bed.
“There we go. Sexual act. When the sun rises tomorrow, in about twenty hours, you’re free to go.”
I looked back at the confused Ivy. “That’s it? Don’t you want to punish me? Beat me? Humiliate me? Even fuck me properly?” She laughed. “After all these years, is that really all you can do to me!?! Am I really that taboo!?!”
I chuckled. “No, Ivy. You’re really that meaningless. You’re not here to serve, you’re here to get rich. I have three slaves, all of them dying to obey me. What do I need with someone like you? And why bother punishing you for a night, when I can wipe as many smug little smirks off Cynthia’s face for as long as I want?”
She grinned. “So that’s it, then? I just stay here like this until tomorrow morning, and get a back as stiff as hell? You have no idea what I’ve already been through with your father and mother. This is nothing.”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to touch you. My slaves, however, aren’t too happy you tried to seduce their master, and exercise power over him.” With a single motion I pulled back the drapes, and Ivy’s mouth dropped in horror. Jill, Ottawa, and Amelia were all standing on my bed, naked except for an eight-inch long, two-inch thick, studded strap-on each. On either side of the bed Amelia and Jill grinned; Amelia savagely, Jill playfully. Ottawa, on the other hand, was trying to grin, but looked far too timid. She was clearly uncomfortable with her temporary role, not only as a human, but as a dominant human, and fidgeted. Nonetheless, she was ready to do her duty.
“Remember girls, all three holes, two of you at the time, one resting, and don’t let her choke. I can afford to pay for the surgery to undo any other damage you might cause. I’ll be back at sunrise. Don’t worry about Cynthia, I’ll see to her.”
As I began walking towards the door, Ivy began to yell. “Ryan! Ryan, you get back here! Ryan, don’t you dare! Don’t you dare do this to me!” I closed the door, and began to walk towards the stables. Screams permeated the estate, even through the strap-on she had promptly shoved down her throat.
Entering the stables, I immediately grabbed up a bridle. Approaching it, I placed the bit in her mouth, and pulled the bridle over her head, moving behind her.
“Bend over,” I said. She complied. I checked my watch, and pulled down my pants. I pulled her onto me with the reigns, and began fucking her. She stayed bent over, despite the strain on her back and hips. I continued to pull and pull, as she began to moan, trying to hide her pain. Eventually she began to moan in some semblance of words through the bit “Pwease! Pwease! Pwease stop!” I ignored her. Despite her pleas, she quickly grew sopping wet.
After a long period of time, she let out a single great scream, so loud it covered over Ivy’s distant screams. I came, and pulled out, my cum dripping from her. I checked my watch. 20 minutes. I smiled. Now, I was truly the master of the estate.
The end…for now…
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