Yes" ordered Ingrid. "Twelve strokes. Nice and slowly. That should do the trick. And also make her look back at this moment with fear. And remember I don't want her to get any real pleasure from the stallion - any more than a real animal does."
Gabu went to the corner of the box and picked up a long whippy cane ... The next few minutes were awful. My screams and sobs echoed around the building as I begged and screamed for mercy, as I wriggled helplessly over the padded bar. I saw Betty-Jane gripping Ingrid's hand in a gesture of wild excitement. How I hated them both. But with each drawn out stroke I could feel myself becoming even more aroused than ever.
At last the twelve strokes were over. But I scarcely had time to recover, before the very black young Indian was brought in. He was the one who was harnessed right behind me in the carriage and whom I hated, and feared, the most. I screamed and screamed - much to the delight of the watching two women.
The youth's hands hands were fastened in front of him. I saw that the sight of my naked body, strapped down helplessly in front of him, was arousing him fast. He was made to kneel down on all fours behind me. Suddenly I felt his tongue between my legs. Held down as I was, I could not even close myself to them. I just had to accept being prepared.
Then he was made to kneel up. Unable to see behind me because of my blinkers, I felt Gabu part my lips again. Then he held them apart with one hand and I heard the man give a snort of pleasure as he deftly inserted the throbbing manhood into me.
I now understood the significance of the male 'horses' being kept unable to get at themselves for almost immediately he jetted into me.
It had been almost as fast as the performance of the real stallion minutes earlier and, as he withdrew, I was left with a feeling of mad frustration. I remembered what Ingrid had said about her not wanting me to get any real pleasure from a man. I certainly had not!
Then he was led away, his task performed. I was expecting to be unfastened and led away - like the real filly had been. But instead I was left chained over the padded bar, and the chain to my collar was shortened so that my head was kept down below my upthrust buttocks. I could feel the seed slipping deeper and deeper into me.
Piteously I looked up at the balcony. Piteously I begged my Mistresses, even at this last minute, to relent and order me to be washed out. But they just laughed, and ordered some little cakes to be brought to them.
Then suddenly the door to this mating box was opened, and in was led the other Indian youth, the lighter coloured one. And the whole process was repeated - including the nuptial beating.
I just could not believe that I really was to be covered again, until, with a sinking feeling, I remembered Betty-Jane's suggestion that we should be covered by both stallions so that we would never know which was the father of our child.
Then when the second Indian had been been taken away , and my Mistresses had left, I was left for a couple of hours bent over the padded ring.
"We want give seed good chance to catch!" laughed Gabu, "and if not catch today, then tomorrow." He shut the door of the box, leaving me alone with my thoughts and quite unable to get at myself to prevent conception |