continued from part two Part 3: Over the Jumps
My back is starting to ache now. It is joining my shoulders, hips and neck in a symphony of aches and pains that I can do absolutely nothing about. This damn thing across my back is causing them all and no matter what I do I just cannot shake it off.
I have tried shaking myself like a demented dog, thrown myself from side to side as far as I can go, yet wide belts strapped tightly about my waist and chest keep it firmly in place.
I did try rearing up to shake it off but I soon found a strap ran to the wide collar fastened about my throat which just dragged that against my shoulders which created a whole new set of aches so I was soon settled back down on all fours to await my fate.
Quite where I am I have no idea. Or my boyfriend come to that. I recall us sitting down in the adult toyshop he loves so much, I recall looking up in some silly costumes, then it is all a blank until now.
I lifted my head again in a vain attempt to look around but a blindfold had made prisoners of my eyes and all I could see was darkness. I could feel the sun was beating down on my pale naked flesh, and every so often a cool breeze stirred the air and made me horny as hell where is caressed my swaying breasts and softly stroked my womanly curves.
My neck began to ache again and I allowed my head to drop down between my shoulder blades. My arms were spread wide, and as my fingers shifted I could feel moist grass beneath them. In a desperate attempt to relieve the aches across my shoulders I tried to pull my hands and arms together, but my efforts were swiftly rewarded with the tinkle of chains and a sudden tightness that told me there were leather manacles about my wrists and that they were not going to be meeting anytime soon.
I shifted my widely spread legs and soon found they too were tightly tethered. Whoever had staked me out had known what they were doing. Wrists and ankles spread just enough to make the muscles ache, my back parallel with the ground, and something soft and heavy perched across my back which just refused to go away.
It wasn’t exactly heavy, but it had a certain presence that I just could not get out of my mind. I had no idea what it was but it had a firm softness and rolling curves that fitted my lovely curves in a firmly sensuous way.
I shifted my head again and was reminded of the high collar about my throat. It had been buckled snugly by knowing hands that know just how tightly a collar should be fitted to ensure the collared person could never forget it was there. It exerted a constant, nagging pressure that could never be ignored, never be denied, and was guaranteed to make the victim horny as hell every time they thought about it.
My head snapped round as I heard the faint sound of a chain moving over to my right. Was there someone else there ? Staked out in the sun just like me ? I tried to call out but all I could manage was an incoherent gurgle.
Call me stupid if you like, but in all my careful exploring of my limited little world I had made no attempt to speak and had somehow ignored the ache in my jaw. Now the fact came thundering down on my consciousness as I tried to bring my lips and mouth together. For a moment I thought I had been fitted with that old stager the ball-gag, but those can be compressed and some speech can be forced past them. But whatever had my mouth filled allowed no movement whatsoever, keeping my teeth rigidly apart.
I allowed my tongue to reach forwards, and its very tip encountered a shiny piece of metal. Lifting itself it traced a shape that soon became a circle wedged behind my teeth. It encountered two patches of leather, and my addled mind recognised a pressure against both of my cheeks that told me all I needed to know. My mouth was the prisoner of that most evil and utterly effective of devices, the steel ring gag. I was not going to be calling out to anyone anytime soon.
I heard the sound of the chains again and now I was sure someone else was near me. Staked out just like me, or at least chained out somehow in the sunshine.
Somewhere in the distance I can hear voices, High, sing-song little voices with that evil asian timbre that I know turns a man’s knees to jelly. And they are coming closer. I can hear the sound of their feet on the ground, and I sense them come to a halt at my side.
“You OK down there Miss. Gillian ? Like fresh air and new costume ?”
I turned my blind eyes to face them, but I could see them in my mind. Tiny little things they were, yet perfectly formed. All with long black hair and big brown eyes. The fantasy of every man I had ever met, and here again they seemed to have complete control over me.
I felt tiny fingers at my neck and the blindfold was slowly peeled away revealing my blue eyes to the world. I looked quickly about and saw grass as far as a high hedge, three pairs of gleaming riding boots to my left, and to my right a sight that filled me with both a wild submissive passion and a terrible horror.
She was down on all fours like me, shackled to four implacable eyebolts twisted deep into the turf. Thick leather cuffs enclosed her wrists and ankles, and her eyes were still covered by a thick black blindfold.
But now at last I knew the source of my torment. Sitting curved upon the curves of her spine was a thick leather saddle. It had a cunning arrangement of cruppers strapped about her ribs and tight about her waist that kept it from falling off, and I could see the leather harness extended up from the front of the saddle to the tall collar of brown leather that encompassed her neck. There was a harness tight about her face, and as I could see her mouth silently open and drooling I guessed she also had her voice confined by the insidious grasp of a metal ring gag. Where my hair was red and short, hers was dark and thick, falling in rolling waves until it nearly touched the grass.
I felt my skin shiver as I now knew how I too must look, and I felt a terrible dampness between my legs as I thought what a spectacle we must have presented to any unseen eyes watching us.
“Now Miss. Gillian” the asian said, and I forced my eyes off the other woman as her head turned back and forth as she tried to work out exactly what was going on beyond the dark limits of her own little world. “You want meet my little friends now”
I twisted my head and those three pairs of gleaming riding boots came back before my eyes and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. My eyes followed those three pairs of boots upwards, up over fantastically slender legs swathed in skintight riding jodphurs, past the hems of tightly tailored tweed jackets that swelled over trim little breasts and on up over open necked shirts until they stopped at big brown eyes in the shade of riding hard hats over faces of flawless asian skin.
God but they were beautiful. The sight of them as they stood there like three identical triplets even turned me on. And they were so tiny. None of them stood about 3ft 6 inches tall. They put me in the mind of tiny, evil little dolls, a through reinforced by the presence of a riding crop in the hand of each one of them.
“Now Miss. Gillian” the asian I had seen before in the shop spoke again “It is gymkhana time at the toyshop, and guess what you and your friend going to be doing ?”
Before I could complete my gurgled incoherent reply there was a tiny rider on my back and reins were swiftly snapped on to my ring gag. My rider said something in her native tongue I didn’t understand, and when I didn’t react boots heels kicked against my ribs and my reins were sharply tugged. I saw deft fingers dart about my wrists unfastening my shackles from their tethering points and the soft caresses I could feel at my ankles told me I was at last free and able to stretch. And revolt.
I tried to rear up and throw off my tiny rider but she was expecting me. I felt her throw forward her weight and dig her knees tightly against my ribs. I squealed through my helplessly open lips as the reins were hauled tight and her weight bought me crashing back down on to my hands and knees. Then the whip slashed savagely across my bare arse and I felt myself move smoothly forward like any other well trained riding beast.
I glanced back over my shoulder as I saw my brunette companion try exactly the same thing as I did. Even as she rose up I saw the tiny asian on her back throw herself up on her shoulders and kick back wickedly with her shiny boots. The points of her heels left ugly wheals and I winced as I saw and heard the tip of that whip leave a vivid red mark across her haunches. Then she too started to move off and moments later our eyes met as the horror of our situation settled in.
Part of me wondered what she had done to get herself into this situation, then all other thoughts fled my mind as we rounded a thick row of bushes and a cheer went up as we came into view of the tiered grandstands and a hundred people rose to their feet and cheered our arrival.
The third asian in the tiny riding gear waved back and forth as we both rode in behind her. And there before us, as the sun beat down on our naked bodies lay a carefully laid out set on carefully scaled down riding jumps. And before my mind could fully comprehend my new situation there were loud cries and the crack of both whip marking both my buttocks and I was lumbering towards the first of the jump at a steady trot. I could feel my rider’s weight perfectly matching my movements as she rode that saddle just like the real thing and I knew I had a long, hard afternoon before me.
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26.11.11
story continues in The Toy Store 4: Sitting in the Chair
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