Summer School & After School: The Ponygirl Omnibus Edition by Jurgen von Stuka Page B

he was like a wild, unbroken steed,
fleeing from the possibility of confinement in a corral. At other times he was
simply and methodically trying to shake the mounted and impaled girl off his
mechanical back. His bucks were slow enough to cause Dori to slide up the
impaling phalluses, hang there in momentary suspension and plunge back down
their roughened slippery surface to slam her bisected ass and naked crotch into
the sweat-soaked leather saddle. This in and out action in itself was enough to
awaken and boil the girl’s sexual feelings, but the constant side-swings, jerks
and starts from the beast multiplied by ten the stimuli. Her breasts swung
heavily with the horse’s movement, following in slow motion the movements of
the rest of her body. Some of the motions were violent enough to bring the
massive globes up into contact with Dori’s chin and neck. It was somewhat
ridiculous, she thought somewhere along the line, to have her own tits
thrashing her neck and lower face as she careened about on a mechanical horse.
    Dori had no
choice but to ride it out, sweat it out and come over and over again. She was
constantly panting and shuddering, trying catch her breath before the next
inevitable wave of stimulation took over. Nostrils dilated, eyes wide and
blinking back the continuous tears and sweat, she fought to follow somehow the
irregular movements of the beast. With nothing to hold on to, she would not
have stayed in the saddle more than a few seconds had she not been bound there
by the various restraints, but her young body, bound and impaled as it was,
took every possible escape avenue without any success. She remained in the
saddle, sliding up and down and rotating on the dual joysticks, her cunt and
asshole wider and more open than ever before, her juices running beyond any
normal capacity.
    She came in her
head, in her cunt, in her ass, in her wildly gyrating breasts and in her toes
and fingertips. Every part of her responded over and over again to the
incredible action of the electronically controlled monster she rode. It seemed
like hours. It seemed like it would never, ever end. In one part of her head,
she begged for it to stop. In another part of her head and body, she wanted it
to go on and on. Through the bit and gag, she shouted over and over again:
“stop, please stop, oh, please stop it, I can’t stand it anymore. Please
stop…please, please…oh, oh…ohhhhh…”
    Eventually, it
stopped. Without preamble, without warning, it stopped. Dori sweated, shivered,
shuddered and finally, unable to do more than relax in the saddle, she slept.
Sitting quietly in the leather arm chair next to the now silent, motionless
bucking horse, Head Master Boswick fumbled with his pants, put his limp penis
back inside his shorts, closed the zipper and stood up, never taking his eyes
off the exhausted, dozing girl in the saddle.
    “Very nice,” he
said. “Very nice. I think we’re going to see a lot more of each other, Dori.
Since it is apparent that you like this kind of ride so much, I am going to
arrange for you to have a special belt.”
    Dori blinked
away the salt mixture from her eyes and tried to look at Boswick as much as her
restraints allowed.
    Mistress Ella
will see to it first thing tomorrow,” Boswick added as he headed for the stairs
and the exit door. Dori remained pinioned in the soaking saddle and wondered
what he had in mind.

Chapter Nine
    Whipped
into Shape

 
 
    “Learning to
ride properly requires that you understand fully what the horse is thinking and
why,” lectured the instructor. “That is why you are each now being outfitted in
your pony attire. Your coach will help you today and in the early stages, but you
must learn to fare for yourselves. Now, we’ll review the equipment and have you
each check to make sure you are properly attired for the lesson. Norma, please
take the stand and walk us all through the day’s lesson.”
    Norma, one of
the instructors on staff, stepped quickly