crowd urged on their favorites.
At the end, it was virtually a dead heat, although the red team managed to edge out the blue at the last second. The crowd went wild, and cheers rang out, as the chariots continued circling at a slower pace while the sweating, panting ponygirls struggled for breath, breasts heaving mightily, as they slowed to an easy trot.
Watching the magnificent red leader panting heavily, her long body quivering from the workout, her high-mounded breasts heaving in slowing undulations, I had to reach down to adjust my tunic to ease my stiffened penis. I knew what I had to do!
I jumped up, pushing my way through the excited crowd to find Kimar. I pulled him aside for a few quick words in an oversized ear. I assured the wily trader that, while he was entitled to a detachment of troops to protect the caravan for the normal 100 leagues from our post, I could personally see to it that he got the very best protection the Roman army could offer. He looked at me suspiciously; narrowed eyes taking on a slightly puzzled look. But all he needed was a troop of well-armed soldiers, he countered. Slow on the uptake, I thought. True, I acknowledged, but, I pointed out to him, we had both young, green recruits normally sent on such duties, as well as battle-tested, seasoned veterans. The later were the kind of stout men who would not turn and run at the first shouts of a thundering horde, leaving a defenseless caravan to the mercies of the wild Germans. And our local Germans were an unpredictable lot. They had been acting up lately. With such a valuable cargo as his…well, one just never knew…
At last, the crafty slave trader saw the light. A sly smile curled his bloodless lips, followed rapidly by a dark scowl. ‘And the cost of this extra service?’ he wanted to know. That was the question I was a waiting for!
That night, a splendid Nordic beauty was delivered to my quarters. No longer Big Red, she had been rubbed down after the races, bathed and scented, the red dye gone from her statuesque body. And now she knelt before me with eyes downcast, hands behind her back, the golden hair on her bowed head shimmering in the flickering torchlight.
While she was no longer a ponygirl, she presented herself as I had specified: in harness. I wanted for myself the pleasure of relieving her of her bright red tail as she waited on hands and knees for me to mount up. I still have it, nailed up on the wall of my quarters -- a piece of tail from a most unforgettable night.
Ponygirls Five It Is Required One of Lady Ursula’s more perverse demands was to see to it that each of the stable’s ponygirls was individually fitted with a personal vibrator, a smooth plastic rod which a ponygirl might be made to wear at the whim of her mistress. And the Lady found it most amusing for a ponygirl to be equipped with such a device when the girl was being put through her paces in the exercise yard. A crotch belt, attached to the front of a waist-cincher, was buckled tightly between her legs. Like some sort of a chastity belt, it would secure the sex toy in the vagina, assuring the humming intruder could not be expelled, even during the most strenuous workout. Today, it was Justine’s turn to be “properly-equipped.” Now the pony-tailed girl stood at attention, slim legs set together, pert breasts uplifted and jutting forward while the straps of the leather harness were tightened in place about her slender body. The groom began the preparations by fitting the body harness, but it was her Ladyship who insisted on personally seeing to the details of the intimate violation that was about to take place. In preparation for the humiliation she was about to suffer at the hands of her wicked mistress, Justine was led to the thickly padded trestle conveniently kept in the barn for just this purpose. Ordered into position bending down over the padded bar, the obedient girl reached down to clasp the iron staples which
At the end, it was virtually a dead heat, although the red team managed to edge out the blue at the last second. The crowd went wild, and cheers rang out, as the chariots continued circling at a slower pace while the sweating, panting ponygirls struggled for breath, breasts heaving mightily, as they slowed to an easy trot.
Watching the magnificent red leader panting heavily, her long body quivering from the workout, her high-mounded breasts heaving in slowing undulations, I had to reach down to adjust my tunic to ease my stiffened penis. I knew what I had to do!
I jumped up, pushing my way through the excited crowd to find Kimar. I pulled him aside for a few quick words in an oversized ear. I assured the wily trader that, while he was entitled to a detachment of troops to protect the caravan for the normal 100 leagues from our post, I could personally see to it that he got the very best protection the Roman army could offer. He looked at me suspiciously; narrowed eyes taking on a slightly puzzled look. But all he needed was a troop of well-armed soldiers, he countered. Slow on the uptake, I thought. True, I acknowledged, but, I pointed out to him, we had both young, green recruits normally sent on such duties, as well as battle-tested, seasoned veterans. The later were the kind of stout men who would not turn and run at the first shouts of a thundering horde, leaving a defenseless caravan to the mercies of the wild Germans. And our local Germans were an unpredictable lot. They had been acting up lately. With such a valuable cargo as his…well, one just never knew…
At last, the crafty slave trader saw the light. A sly smile curled his bloodless lips, followed rapidly by a dark scowl. ‘And the cost of this extra service?’ he wanted to know. That was the question I was a waiting for!
That night, a splendid Nordic beauty was delivered to my quarters. No longer Big Red, she had been rubbed down after the races, bathed and scented, the red dye gone from her statuesque body. And now she knelt before me with eyes downcast, hands behind her back, the golden hair on her bowed head shimmering in the flickering torchlight.
While she was no longer a ponygirl, she presented herself as I had specified: in harness. I wanted for myself the pleasure of relieving her of her bright red tail as she waited on hands and knees for me to mount up. I still have it, nailed up on the wall of my quarters -- a piece of tail from a most unforgettable night.
Ponygirls Five It Is Required One of Lady Ursula’s more perverse demands was to see to it that each of the stable’s ponygirls was individually fitted with a personal vibrator, a smooth plastic rod which a ponygirl might be made to wear at the whim of her mistress. And the Lady found it most amusing for a ponygirl to be equipped with such a device when the girl was being put through her paces in the exercise yard. A crotch belt, attached to the front of a waist-cincher, was buckled tightly between her legs. Like some sort of a chastity belt, it would secure the sex toy in the vagina, assuring the humming intruder could not be expelled, even during the most strenuous workout. Today, it was Justine’s turn to be “properly-equipped.” Now the pony-tailed girl stood at attention, slim legs set together, pert breasts uplifted and jutting forward while the straps of the leather harness were tightened in place about her slender body. The groom began the preparations by fitting the body harness, but it was her Ladyship who insisted on personally seeing to the details of the intimate violation that was about to take place. In preparation for the humiliation she was about to suffer at the hands of her wicked mistress, Justine was led to the thickly padded trestle conveniently kept in the barn for just this purpose. Ordered into position bending down over the padded bar, the obedient girl reached down to clasp the iron staples which
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