I cheated a bit; whether pony-boys can talk or not is a moot point, but this one can open Google Earth on his mistress’s tablet when she leaves it unlocked and measure the length of the course. Twice around the track that is clearly visible using the app and measure it. So it came up very close to 2.5 kilometres per lap. 3 kilometres is my 3-times-a-week training run. OK, I was pulling Miranda on what amounted to a two-wheeled bike. I hadn’t seen anyone here who I thought had a cat in hell’s chance of beating me, though. I hadn’t seen “The Bitch,” and she still hadn’t shown herself or, more importantly, Zuse, the unbeaten ponyboy. I’d be getting a good look at him soon enough.
I was, as per my mistress’s instructions, resting on the bunk, not sleeping. I was far too excited for that; I was focused on the race now. I’m a bit off track when something I really want to excel at is this close. I’ve offended friends by being rude before a game of rugby, even unimportant games. It’s hard to focus, though, when you still haven’t seen the real opposition and Miranda’s divine arse and boobs are swanning around in front of you.
Her lounging clothes were gear that looked as though she had read a guide to my own personal cock erection triggers. She was wearing a corset, and to be honest, I now know she wears one more often than not. This one was a red satin underbust affair with a half-cup bra that matched perfectly. I could see the top of her areolas and also the outline of her nipple jewellery. The thing that was pressing my button was her knickers, not a single hair peeking out, and embroidered on the front the words, Winners Enclosure.
She sat next to me on the bed. “You’re supposed to be resting; are you going to tell your mistress what’s going through your head?”
“I can promise you faithfully.” Mistress you, just you, I have a thousand questions. Oh, and maybe just a little visualisation for tomorrow’s race.”
“Ask me a question, any question you want.”
“Are you completely shaved down there?”
“Down where?”
“You know Mistress’s knicker area.”
Miranda giggled. “Knicker area?” “Do you mean my pussycat?”
“Yes Mistress”
“No, I don’t shave; I had a Hollywood electrolysis procedure done five years ago. It cost a fortune and hurt like a bitch, but I’m glad I did it. Would you like to feel it? It’s so smooth. Do you want to touch it? If you’re a very good boy, I may let you kiss it.
I couldn’t speak.
Cat got your tongue.
Err, yes, mistress.
What the cat has your tongue?
No Mistress. Can I kiss it, please?
But you would see it then, and I promised myself I would only let you see it if you won.
I can close my eyes. Mistress
Oh, I don’t think I can trust you yet, and you may try to take it further. I’m only a wee slip of a girl, and you’re such a big, strong stallion. You could take advantage of me.
I promise I won’t mistreat you.
Miranda was holding my cock now. It was so hard, I think it would have scratched glass.
And this thing, she said, squeezing it. It may go off and waste all your energy. We don’t want to waste your energy before the race, do we?
I was so wound up now that I think I would have castrated myself with a soup spoon if she had asked me to.
You could put your hands in these.
On the corners of the bed, there were cuffs on short lengths of rope. She pulled one out of its hiding place. Put your wrist in here. I did it without a second thought; Miranda buckled me in. Then my left wrist, then my ankles. But what do I do about this? I think if I let you kiss my puss, you will probably let your energy spurt out. I know what to do: open wide.
She held on to a head harness. This is your racing harness. It will have a bit; it’s in the rules. Well, it’s my rule.
Oh god, man, you look fucking gorgeous. Has anyone ever told you you have an obscenely big willy? I’m going to be very disappointed tonight if you don’t win this afternoon. After all, it is the winner’s enclosure.
Joking aside, my dear Alad, You cannot run with that fucker sticking out in front of you. It would undoubtedly help in a photo finish, but I fear if it bounced down, you would trip over it. We have a problem. I have a cock harness for Duncan, but I think I’d have to mince your fecker to get half of it in. I’m reluctant to do that, and you probably think less of the idea than I do.
I do have a chastity cage I had made for you. By the same man who made the belt you lied to me about. That reminds me: I still owe you twelve with the cane for that little fib. Anyway, I’m going to try you in it. I can lash it to your pony harness, and when it gets dark after we have eaten the curry, you can try running in it.
“Mistress.”
“Yes Alad.”
“You promised me a kiss.”
Miranda smiled. “Oh, my pony wants to be my pussyboy, does he?” He wants to check that my smooth fanny is perfect; does he want to check that my bottom is clean as well?
She knew I did; I told her that I wanted to be made to perform analingus when I first spoke to her at the fetish market munch.
“I’m going to offer you a once-in-a-lifetime offer. You can kiss and lick me as I want, for as long as I want, and when I want. If you do that and agree to wearing some kind of chastity device, I will let you do it without a blindfold now.
Yes, mistress, please, mistress.
Wait a minute. Do you understand that you are giving your cock to me? I decide when you cum, under what conditions you cum, how often you cum, and how I make you cum.
Yes, mistress, please, mistress.
I also decide that when I let you out of chastity, it is for a tease and denial session, a relief session, a wank, a blowjob, anal, a titty wank, or I let you squirt your spunk in my pussy.
Yes, Mistress, please, Mistress.
And finally, and I don’t think we spoke about this, I want you to tell me in your own words that you agree with these. The final condition for now is that every drop of cum you produce goes back inside you. You will lick me clean, and I mean every drop. You can reach it with your tongue.
I thought for a moment. Not about saying yes. Giving my cock to this beautiful woman was a dream come true for me. I thought it was best to say what I thought: it was easy.
Mistress Miranda, please do with me as you see fit. I am yours–not just my cock, but all of me. My sole purpose is to try to make you happy.
Oh, my, I didn’t expect you to say that. No negotiation? No bargaining?
No, mistress, there is no point. I want to be yours. How can I negotiate from that position? I have to put my trust and faith in you.
Then, it’s a little earlier than I expected, but I have a gift for you. I hope you see it as a gift.” She produced a large jewellery box. “I thought I may be wasting my money buying this. I ordered and paid for it before I ordered and paid for your chastities. Mistress Miranda opened the box. Inside was a simple silver collar with the words Property of Mistress Miranda engraved along its outer circumference. The only other adornment was a 20-mm ring. If the guy who made your chastity belt is as good as he says he is, this will be a perfect fit. Will you wear it for me?
Oh yes, please, Mistress. I’d love to.
Sadly, it isn’t a permanent lock yet, but the day you retire from rugby, it will be.
“Lots of guys wear jewellery when they are playing mistress.”
“Then wear it, but if you get hurt, they will want it off to X-ray you. If I told you how much it cost, you might forget your place and shout at your mistress. When I got these three things for you, I got them on separate invoices, so I didn’t see the whole bill at once.”
“How much—”
Miranda cut me off in midsentence. If you ask me that again, I will give you fifty with my bastard cane. It’s a Thai prison pattern. Drug dealers have died in Thai prisons under a beating of fewer strokes than that. And then she did something totally unexpected: she kissed me.
Then the mask didn’t just slip; it fell right off. You bastard, you made me fall in love with you. I have never fallen in love before. When I’m too old and ugly, please let me down lightly. And then she did that thing that women do to make you feel like you’re the biggest arse in the world. She cried.
The worst thing was that I was tied down. I could barely lift my head when all I wanted to do was hold her.
Please don’t cry. Please don’t. I love you too, and I want to be your slave forever. I want you–not just your boobs, not just your bum, all of you. I love you for what’s in your head, not your bra. I was just about to complain that I hadn’t had my kiss yet, but someone was knocking on the other side of the door.
Miranda wiped her ruined makeup onto a towel and opened the passenger door a crack. It was Phoebe. Phoebe is a big girl and wasn’t having any waiting on the doorstep, so she pushed straight into the horse box. You should see what the bitch is driving now, she said. It doesn’t matter what you have; she has to have something bigger. You need to come outside and look at this.
We can’t really come out now. Phoebe, for the first time, noticed me. Jesus Christ on a bike–that’s going to take a bit of initiative when it comes to playing hide the sausage. Then she burst out laughing. Oh, Lordy Lord. The bitch will have to search far and wide to find one bigger than that.
Phoebe darling. Please don’t be offended, but please fuck off. I’m rather busy right now.
Oh, I can see you have your hands very full, darling. Phoebe looked at me and said to herself, “Ooh dear, always the bridesmaid.” They gave me a big smile. If she ever throws you out of her stable, Alad,
Miranda said, “Yehhh.” “That’s going to happen.”
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