Owned And Owner (31 page)

‘I think pony training does that,’ Therin said. ‘They need to know that they’re animals, and on the track they learn that they can’t think for themselves.’

‘That helps,’ Garid agreed. ‘But it excites them, just as it does us, you know.
All of this does; the beatings, the bondage.
If we always resolve that excitement, let them have their pleasure, it’s – I don’t know, for me the relationship becomes mutual, it evens out. It’s an unwritten contract, a game.’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Therin. ‘I guess I could agree that it’s up to me arbitrarily to let
Vizay
come or not. I just choose to let her, even if I delay it a bit, because I enjoy it.’

‘Sure, that’s a valid point of view,’ agreed Garid. ‘But does
Vizay
know that you could choose not to let her? Or does she think she has the right to come – because she always does?’ Therin sat back to think about this. Garid went on. ‘When I first got my slave I made her come a lot, and I enjoyed that. I controlled when and how, so it felt right enough.’ He considered a little. ‘It strengthened her bond to me, too.’ Teats had been out of sight, but now the three men could see the harnessed figure hauling the heavy load behind her. They watched in silence for a minute, and then Garid went on. ‘But I started to see how much enjoyment there was in frustrating her, and how much more powerful that was. No one but me can or will satisfy that need, including herself. I have the keys. She’s utterly dependent on me. And I make sure that the need is continual, and intense.’

Cerivar
mused, ‘I’ve watched some owners go in the other direction, force their slaves to come over and over until it hurts.’

‘Well, at least that’s an indication of power,’ said Garid. ‘Doesn’t appeal to me at all, but it makes some sense.’

Therin, having given more thought to the matter, spoke up. ‘What works may depend on the female, and on what the owner likes as well. Some women are humiliated by being forced to come. So it’s fun to do that, especially in public. Some of us – like
Cerivar
here – enjoy giving their slaves a bit of slack, so they can have the fun of reining them in and showing them
who’s
boss, over and over again. Isn’t that right?’
Cerivar
nodded. ‘And some of us, like me, get a kick out of giving a woman pleasure, just as much as we do from hurting them. As long as we get what we want, and the slaves are under control, what does it matter?’

Garid was silent for a while, looking at the clouds moving across the cooling sky, gathering more color as they went. Then he nodded. ‘You’re right. There’s no one way to do this. After all, what’s the point of being an owner if you can’t do it your own way?’

Still, each of the men had some new thoughts. Therin and
Cerivar
were both planning a little more teasing and denial with their slaves, just to see where it led. And Garid was musing about the uses of a butt plug shocker in pony training.

It was dusk by the time the visitors said their goodbyes. As he guided the
aircar
upward, Garid looked back down at the house.
Cerivar
was sitting on his veranda, the small woman on his lap. Her face was hidden against him; one hand just visible against his chest. She seemed to have given up her tired body without reserve.
Cerivar
was stroking her with one hand while he waved cheerily at them with the other.

Party

One day after a race, I noticed that the ride home was longer than the ride out had been. Where were we going? The car stopped, and I was left to ponder this for quite a long time in the crate.

I had lost the race, and was still sniffling and rubbing my stinging nose with my mitt. I couldn’t rub the other place that was stinging. My master had been pushing me harder lately, giving me shocks through a butt plug to speed me up, or in response to any hesitation on my part. The first time I’d been frightened almost out of my wits, but I think I’d gone a little faster. If I’d had any consciousness left when I was racing, any existence beyond that of a dumb, conditioned animal, that first shock did away with it. With that thing in my ass, the threat or the actual sensation, I had no mind left at all. I hardly knew if I was ahead or behind. My eyes were so completely blinded by tears and the blinkers that I could barely see anyway, and with blurred vision there was that much less to stimulate the higher brain regions. I just obeyed the reins and the whip and my master’s voice, fearfully and without the slightest hesitation.

My master finally opened the crate and brought me out by the bridle. I knew at once where I was: the first place we had raced, where we had been many times since. But we had never gone there after racing somewhere else. This time, instead of a competitive, teasing atmosphere, I could sense the beginnings of a party. The women were all over the place, over men’s knees, kneeling on their thighs with hands behind their backs, having their breasts toyed with. The men were laughing their deep laughs. They moved from the stable and garage yards to the terrace, carrying or leading slaves. My master led me by a leash on my degrading nose ring, on all fours, having locked the kneepads on that kept me down. Hardly any of the other women had nose
rings,
much less got led by them. And very few of them ever wore mitts like I did; I’d seen them use their hands, even to eat!

I could sense a difference in my master. His hand on the leash was not so tight, nor did he keep it quite so short. Was he just relaxed, or did this mean something?

He sat down on the terrace and arranged me on all fours in front of him to be his footstool. I braced myself to accept this honor, and tried very hard not to move. I caught glimpses of slaves tied on their backs on a table, their legs stretched wide to the ceiling, serving all comers. I heard their screams of pleasure, and thought about being pounded hard, and I wished, and wished that I deserved it… I had to be careful not to move a muscle; at the slightest twitch my master whipped me. My wet, locked-away cunt contracted around its plug, sending tremors throughout my body.

Garid sat back and enjoyed the scenes playing out before him. He could feel the smallest quiver of the little body under his feet, and he hardly had to look down to flick her with his whip. He knew she was suffering more from deprivation than from pain, and that was enjoyable also.

Therin sat down next to him. ‘What do you think, now that you’ve joined us at last?’

‘I think it’s time I shared my toy with my friend.’

Therin stared at Garid, then at his slave, and then he laughed. ‘You finally have her all the way down, do you?
About time.
Think she knows who owns her yet?’

‘You dead
wurlegh
!
Do you want to play with her or not?’ Garid put his feet down, sat up and picked up her leash. ‘Kneel.’ The woman raised herself to her knees, and presented her breasts to Therin at his signal. Garid could feel her slight tension through the leash, but she did not hesitate.

‘You’re sure? Not going to want to kill me afterwards?’

‘I thought you liked risks.’

‘Don’t tell me you’re going to unlock that belt for me.’

‘No. But you can use her mouth. Just let me know when.’ He unclipped the leash from her nose ring.

Therin looked thoughtfully at the woman kneeling in front of him. He reached out and gently swirled one finger around her right nipple, then her left, back and forth, watching her face.

He took both breasts in his hands and squeezed. ‘I’ve
been wanting
to spend some time on these for a long while. What a pair of beauties.’

‘They color up nicely,’ Garid said.
‘Especially with a flogger.’

‘I’ve got a good one – hold on.’ It took him more than a few minutes, as the article was in use; he had to find another suitable whip to trade before he could get the one he wanted. Garid held the woman’s arms behind her, and made her arch her back and present her breasts. Therin struck a moderate blow, first right, then left, and examined the marks. ‘You’re right; she marks easily.
Vizay’s
skin is darker.’

‘A little harder now.’
Garid tightened his hold, and enjoyed the sensation of his pet jerking at each blow. Therin placed each stroke fastidiously. He was careful to catch her nipples from time to time, which wrung muffled squeals from her. When she was mewling steadily around her gag, and tears were running in a steady stream down her face, they stopped. Her tits were blushing in bright pink and stripes of red.

‘Where are her pony bells? This is sheer artistry; we should call attention to it.’

Garid was happy to add bells.

‘You know,’ said Therin, ‘I never had a dog as a kid. My brother was allergic to them. I always wanted to play with a sweet little doggie
who
would fetch things when I threw them.’ Garid smiled, and unfastened the ball gag from the slave’s bridle. She swallowed a last sob and flexed her jaw.

They fastened the leash from her collar to a long raised line that was used for
Vizay’s
training. At the side of the lawn Therin found a stick, and threw it for her to fetch. She scrambled after it, brown mitts and kneepads sinking in the thick grass. Her face pushed down unhesitatingly after the stick, in her hurry coming up sometimes with a mouthful of grass as well. Soon there were bits of grass on her face and under her bridle, and she was panting around the stick as she scurried back with it. The striped pink and red breasts were crosshatched with strands and flecks of green.

Therin sent the stick close to a frame mounted by a saddle, where Lave was making his woman ride. She was making a lot of noise about it. When the whip flashed down her thighs clung to the saddle, but each time Lave raised the whip she raised her hips, and Therin could see the big dildo between her thighs. She was moaning and crying in
Henthen
: ‘Please master, don’t… ahh! Don’t hit me anymore, please…
eee
! Oh – oh I can’t – I’m going to – ah…!’

Therin looked down at
Garid’s
pet
. Distracted by the woman in the saddle, she had lost track of the stick. When she finally crawled back to him with it in her mouth, Therin used it to give her a few good smacks on the hindquarters to punish her for being slow.
‘Bad
jeedy
!’
She yelped with pain and hung her head.

Therin crouched down behind her, and examined her soft inner thighs. He called to Garid. ‘I’d like to punish her a little here, if you don’t mind.’

‘Sure,’ said Garid. ‘Let’s use a chair; I’ll hold her for you.’ Garid fastened her wrists behind her back, sat down in a big lawn chair with her in his lap, and pulled her legs wide, his hands gripping her thighs tightly above the kneepads. He tipped her back a little to make her more accessible. ‘How’s your aim?’ he asked, glancing at his lap.

Therin had no problem landing blows on target, and by the time he was done the slave’s inner thighs were as red and striped as her breasts. This time Garid got to feel her squirming against the whole front of his body; each blow made delicious by her pained writhing. Therin concentrated on marking her evenly, especially up near her belted cunt. He enjoyed seeing the humid flesh through the clear band between her legs, clenching around plugs as she struggled, and the taut shuddering muscles of her thighs. Her distress was louder and more visible without the gag. She was crying with pain again when they stopped.

Therin looked down at her for a long moment. ‘Okay,’ he said to Garid.
‘Now.’

‘It’s time, is it?’ Garid pushed the woman to her knees, and gave Therin his chair. Therin took out his rigid cock, and gave himself over to the pleasure of an unfamiliar mouth surrounding it. Garid had taught her a lot. Therin used the woman’s mouth in a leisurely way, holding her firmly by the head and taking his time, before he abandoned himself to the first orgasm of the day.

I was still on my knees in the grass when a man’s voice called, and people on the lawn began to move toward the house. The woman in the saddle and her master were long gone. My master ran his hands roughly over my red breasts and thighs, and talked and laughed with his friend. He clipped my leash back to my nose ring, always a painful experience, but even so I was very happy that he was the one holding it. If my master wanted to share me, I would do my absolute best to please. But I knew who owned me.

He replaced my ball gag – it was in my mouth before I knew I had opened up for it – and led me through the veranda and into the house. As I crawled the welts on my thighs rubbed against each other, and my breasts were brushing painfully against my arms. I tried to ignore this, but I must have been a little slow, because I got some hard and painful tugs on my nose. We went into a large, warmly lit room. There was a big dining table near one wall, partially set. My master picked up a large bag by the handles and pushed me off into an alcove.

The room was full of people walking around, and slaves on leashes, but we were out of the way of the bustle. In a moment the kneepads were off and I was fastened by the wrists on tiptoe to a hook in the alcove ceiling. I stretched my legs gratefully. He brushed off remaining bits of grass with a warm hand. Then he removed my belt. He was very quick at this, though unlocking my labia rings was a bit complicated. He’d had a lot of practice. I shuddered when the plugs were drawn out with the belt. I could hear the hiss of the
sana
box cleaning them, while he drew more equipment from the bag.