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I was just thinking about the two names "Esel" and "Sharpspors"!
A "Esel", ( a German word for Donkeys ) can of course have good and bad luck in their lives. If these clever animals are unlucky, they have to carry heavy loads or, in Italy, fat tourists around. But I once saw a saddled donkey, a young lady held him loosely by the reins, but after a while the animal slowly walked towards her back, gave her a light nudge with the nose, probably an invitation to get back on his back, although she had riding boots with spurs and a riding whip in her left hand. He obviously liked his rider!
We all know what "sharp spors" are: one has them to discipline a horse, whether it has two legs or four! The question is, if one has chosen such a nickname, whether the person behind it would rather likes fealing the spors itself, or perhaps better ride with them! In any case, these equestrian tools seem to have a certain fascination.
But I don't want to be an amateur psychologist, I'd rather write a new story:
The racetrack ( 1 )
"You really rode excellent lap times, my compliments! Normally you slow down after a while, but your fastest lap came after almost an hour, and that with such a stallion! He's not exactly the youngest, but all respect! He goes like a bat out of hell!" Jule had jumped out of the shoulder saddle and, having reached the end of my strength, led me on the long reins towards the stable box. There she was so kindly addressed by one of the interested spectators.
"Thank you! Yes, with a few tricks he still does quite well! I am sometimes surprised myself what he is still capable of, but if you know how to tackle him properly and push him forward with the right means, then he still has his speed and his stamina doesn't look too bad either. If you don't start the sprint too early, he keeps up the pace quite well, and you can often even get something out of him in the last 300 metres! I still enjoy riding him on the racetrack from time to time, even though, as you rightly say, he is not the youngest anymore and, to be honest, he is quite out of training! Of course, he's no comparison with the racehorses that usually chase around the track here with you, that's clear to me now. "
"Well, he still shouldn't have to hide, especially in his age group! But above all, he is lucky to have a very good rider on his shoulders, you can see that right away! That is at least as important as the racehorse itself! Many are convinced that it is even more important than the stallion himself, I could even imagine that! I can tell you that I have already seen races, especially in the middle distances, i.e. 1,500 to 3,000 metres! The worst horses have done excellently there and sometimes even against really good racehorses, they have even won! But then the jockeys had the devil on their backs, they were merciless, the whip was cracking all the time, always hitting the sweating coat, non-stop! Those were very interesting races, as a spectator you got goose bumps yourself, it went round and round without any consideration, there was no pardon! I saw first-class races, I really have to say that!"
"But, as I said, my stallion is out of the age group where I could really compete! If I were to ride him again in a derby, then of course I would want to win! But I know myself very well and I know what happens when my ambition really gets the better of me! It can quickly happen that I lose control and only have the finish line in front of me! It would be a pity for him if he were to lie on the ground afterwards, gasping for breath and spitting blood! I know these merciless races you described very well! If 10 two-legged racehorses start and 7 of them arrive relatively unscathed, then that's a good result! But I also have a lot of fun with him! He doesn't get anything for free with me either! I always want to see performance from him and of course I still want him to ride good times! I've always been good with the whip!" Then the divine turned a little to the side, looked at me with a mischievous smile:" Isn't it true Gregor? You know me and you know exactly how I ride!"
I had listened to it all, had had to listen to it! For more than an hour now I had been rushing around this damned racetrack like a maniac, I was glad that Jule had finally got out of the saddle, hopefully this miserable drudgery was over, at least for today! From time to time, usually on a weekend, she dragged me here to "ride a few rounds with me, just easy going" as she used to say to me so beautifully, with a nasty smile on her face. In the last few years, I have had to put up with this for so long, there was really no sign of "easy"! I was then mercilessly beaten forward by my divine mistress on this racetrack!
On Thursdays I often found out that Jule would ride me on the racetrack again at the weekend! This announcement was enough to make me break out in a cold sweat and deprive me of sleep. But Jule regularly enjoyed it when she saw my despair, felt my fear, when she told me her plans, seemingly only in passing.
I was ridden by my mistress almost every day anyway, even that was a crazy strain, because the whip always sat quite loosely with her, but the racetrack was always pure drudgery! Until I was absolutely exhausted, I was driven without mercy with the short racing whip. She was almost unrecognisable, she was like a fury, even without an opponent to beat, she could work herself up into a real frenzy!
Jule came from a "good family", she had inherited a lot of money at an early age, I had heard something about real estate. So the parents were quite rich, but as far as I knew, they had no professional activity. Jule and her somewhat younger brother also lived off this inheritance. The patron, as the father was called by everyone, had two very strong riding slaves of his own: he called, a real bull, Sumo. I suppose he came from somewhere in Asia, but I didn't know any more. His second stallion was called Bono, a tomboy, probably from somewhere in South America. He rode both of them regularly, often in daily rotation. In addition, he had a pleasure slave, a handsome, slim lad of around 20 years of age, I guess, with whom he regularly enjoyed himself. He often took him along on his riding excursions as a pastime, riding Bono himself, and the young lad would then sit on the Asian. He would then sit as a matter of course in the shoulder saddle in tight, half-length leather trousers, knee-high black riding boots with spurs on the heels and a naked upper body. Just as the patron liked to see the handsome lad as a rider on a two-legged horse, just as he particularly liked his pleasure slave.
Again and again he was asked to beat more with the whip and of course to give his riding slave a good spanking! The patron, who always rode shortly behind him, liked it very much when he could observe everything from close up, when this brawny biped was touched quite hard by this young rider! The patron loved to watch his so scantily clad slave sitting in the shoulder saddle, loved to hear the whip crack loudly on the sweating skin again and again and to see how this young devil pressed the spurs firmly into the fleshy flanks.
Did the handsome guy himself perhaps enjoy giving his riding slave a good thrashing? He could do it without worrying, because he was under the personal protection of the patron! It was hard to say, but it was certainly possible! In any case, the pleasure slave did not disappoint and did everything in such a way that the patron liked it. He knew that the more he complied with these lustful desires, the better he would feel. He didn't really care how his two-legged riding horse felt, he was thinking more about himself and was glad that he could ride and didn't have to walk for hours! To ride his stallion really hard, if the patron liked it so much, this was really quite easy for him and these wishes easy to fulfil. Somehow he even enjoyed riding himself in the meantime!
The mother, a rather strong person, even had two of her own pleasure slaves of the same age and let them spoil her almost every day, sometimes in pairs, sometimes just by one alone. So it was their job to bring the mistress into an erotic ecstasy according to all the rules of the art. If this did not succeed to her satisfaction, then at first there were only a few juicy slaps or also a few strokes with the riding whip that was always ready! For she also enjoyed punishing these pretty boys for their failures. But she was never too strict with hers, not wanting to seriously damage these pretty creatures! She did not have a riding slave of her own, but had one of the two riding horses saddled depending on availability. I, too, had often had to pull her single-axle cart, really not a pure pleasure, because in the right mood this matron could also be merciless and almost whip a slave into madness between the bars! She had no inhibitions about that.
You're right Max, "donkeys may have good and bad lucks in their lives", but I do believe that 90% of them have a very very very hard life ! Just google "donkey ride" in any emergent country, especially in Africa, and you'll see hundreds of real life pictures of donkeys carrying heavy loads and riders, usually both at the same time, of course ! Sometime with even two riders on their backs ! I calle myself "Esel", which means donkey in german as you noticed, because my performance as a human mount is closer to that of a donkey, than that of a horse, or even pony ! Furthermore, there is a humility, an uncomplaining subservience in donkeys, which offer a perfect role-model for all humans who aspire to become a true mount for their masters or mistresses ...
I didn't mean to discuss it so seriously! I know that the world is not a doll's house, but it is not made better or worse by a story in this forum. I don't think I need to look at these pictures ... although they are reality, I know that very well.
Nobody should make an image of the person who writes stories. I am still not sure if I am in the right place! I will see! Writing stories is some work, it's fun, but without positiv feedback you lose the desire to write.
We, lieber Esel, don't make the world a worse place with these somewhat mean stories, even if you might enjoy reading them!
Jules' younger brother, Maurice by name, was quite different. Some time ago, his mother had given him a strong slave girl, certainly close to 40 years old, I guess. In any case, she was one who spoiled him in every way. Everything imaginable, everything that could give him pleasure, she had in her programme! Whether it was an erotic massage, tenderly stroking his anus, even often with her tongue. Even his easily aroused male organ, which she often took into her mouth with much feeling, taking each outpouring with a smile.
But she couldn't quite stop him from wanting to ride her, just as Jule and the patron did almost every day. Of course, the mare was not very enthusiastic about it. It always looked funny when Maurice saddled his strong slave girl. Then, a short time later, he himself held the reins and sat in the shoulder saddle like a proud rider, his little female horse only having to listen to his command. Of course, like all two-legged horses, she also got to feel the whip when he wanted to ride really fast. But it was probably not all that dramatic, because I was even able to watch this "mare" once, laughing like a rider, sitting on Bono's shoulders, giving him the spurs. The whole family applauding, laughing as they watched and wanting to see more and more of the whip! That's how a slave horse can quickly get!
But everything I witnessed from this strange couple was no comparison to what Jule did to me on her rides. Occasionally, however, she would take the Asian under her saddle, and then he would look terrible after a long day's ride, when she came home in the evening, exhausted after a long day in the saddle, but satisfied!
The patron had given Jule a slave, namely me, 6 years ago. I must have been about 40 years old at the time, almost too old for such a young lady. But my father thought it was appropriate and I too was full of joy at first when I saw this extremely pretty young woman for the first time. However, this unreserved joy did not last long, because right at the beginning my new mistress had a hardness and ruthlessness when riding that I had never expected. Later she often said that she had perhaps ridden me a little too hard in the first few years! Now that I was quite "worn out", she didn't want to take me to the knacker so easily despite my advanced age, as so many other cruel riders did with their old horses. I could stay in her service for a few more years, as long as it was possible. She would make sure that I was not pushed too hard.
Everyone who heard this praised Jule again and again for these kind words! The fact that she was not immediately addressed as "Mother Theresa" or "Mother Jule" was really everything! Only I knew the truth, but it would have been my certain end if I had opened my mouth even once!
And so now I was once again on the racetrack, being driven, hounded, having to trot like a savage! My performance was never enough for my divine mistress, again and again I got the leather-braided whip, no matter how hard I tried. These terrible changes of pace, then the long spurts with constantly increasing speed, plus the violent kicks with the spurs again and again, until my tongue hung out of my throat and my knees became soft. Her sharp cries were also terrible, this loud laughter at the top of her lungs when she had ridden a particularly fast round again.
Part 3 and the end!
No question about it: Jule had her fun on the track, had her fun with me, too, as I tugged desperately at the harness between her strong legs again and again, really giving everything to canter even faster somehow! But then this beast still wanted to squeeze a little more speed out of my old body!
One of her newer ideas was to put blinders, which I always had with me anyway, right in front of my eyes, so that I couldn't see anything, not even the track or the curves. Nevertheless, I had to go full speed, was even more at the mercy of the whip and spurs. In addition, I had to concentrate on the rein the whole time of the race, which was extraordinarily difficult at full speed, perhaps during an intermediate sprint. So I was like a "blinded racehorse", absolutely at her mercy. This was true hell for me, but she enjoyed it immensely!
So now I was standing on my trembling legs, gasping for breath. Now it was possible that this drudgery was finally over for today, but that was not certain yet. It wasn't long before Jule came up to me and clipped a long lead rein to the side of my bridle, then took a few leisurely steps, I walked after her at some distance in uncertain anticipation.
Although I was quite exhausted, every step this divine woman took fascinated me! Those wonderful, strong thighs, her knee-high black riding boots, then that fantastic butt! With every step the big muscle moved up and down, up and down, up and down - it was an indescribably beautiful picture when Jule moved like that in front of me! I would have loved to fall on my knees in front of her, it was such a dreamlike sight! What did she smell like? I was already dreaming of spending a long time with my face under her ass, her dreamy body, maybe even tonight, breathing in her intimate scent slowly and deeply through my nose, enjoying everything of this dreamy woman after this exhausting day!
But then I was shocked to see where my goddess was actually leading me on the reins after this drudgery on the racecourse: not 20 metres away from me stood a neatly cleaned single-axle : it was a sulky! It almost looked as if it had been waiting impatiently all along for its two-legged racehorse! No doubt about it: I would soon be that racehorse, my mistress had really intended that for me, and Jule would soon be sitting in the sulky herself, wielding the driving whip!
I'm not sure to understand the true meaning of your comment, Max ...!? Maybe I was also a bit confusing in my own comment, so, just to clarify : I Love your stories !
In fact, as an "old horse", you reveal in this story exactly the "uncomplaining subservience" I so much admire in donkeys. And you explain it very well : Of course, you submitt to the whip, fearing to suffer, and wishing to minimize the pain. But I think it is not your main motivation ... Your main motivation seems to be some kind of love for your Mistress. Call it love, or admiration, or sex drive or a mix of all those ... But whatever it is, it makes you a fine mount, and an excellent story-teller . Including a few hints on some side-services required from the human ponies, which certainly are a very nice part of the job ...:)