Ultimate shoulder rides

The trip (2)

Next to them was a teacher of about 30 years old, she is also traveling to the village and was accompanied by her husband and son, and she said goodbye with a promise to return on Friday night to spend the weekend with her family. At this point a young teenager approaches (adolescence is from thirteen to nineteen years old) and, upon recognizing him, the son shouts: “Mom! One of your horses came here.” Upon hearing the son, the young man jumps up imitating the trot of a horse and neighing. The young man stands and greets the teacher's husband and son with a handshake, then on his knees he kisses her gloved hands and then kisses her boots, showing respect and devotion towards the female figure that represents the ideal of elegance and tradition in the village.

The teacher, with a smile that mixes benevolence and complicity, reflects her acceptance and comfort at the young man's gesture. Her smile suggests that, in this atmosphere of well-defined traditions, she recognizes and values ​​the way the young man expresses his admiration. Then she places a saddle with stirrups on his shoulders and cinches it up.

Later, in a turn of reciprocity and tenderness, the teacher puts her hand on the head of the kneeling young man and scratches his hair in a way that recalls the caress given to a noble horse. This gesture transcends mere physical action to express trust and complicity. As in the ritual greeting where the young man expressed his admiration, the teacher returns a gesture that fuses the formal with the affectionate, evoking the tradition in which roles are symbolically intertwined.

The gentleness and deliberation of the hair scratching suggests a familiarity acquired in the context of customs rooted in the community, in which physical contact, when done with respect, strengthens interpersonal bonds. It is an act that not only expresses appreciation, but also signals an exchange of roles in which both allow themselves to show affection and sensitivity, remembering that, in this cultural environment, closeness and respect are expressed through rituals full of meaning.

This scene, in which the teacher adopts an active and tender role, underlines the complexity of relationships in this environment: reverence, admiration and affection are intertwined in a dance of gestures that, at first glance, might seem formal, but which in reality reveal an intimacy cultivated and accepted by the tradition of the people.

Despite the closeness and delicacy of the gesture, the conversation continues fluidly with the teacher's husband and son, indicating that this ritual takes place in a context of coexistence and normality. The integration of the family in the scene shows that, in this environment, gestures of admiration and respect are made without breaking the family dynamic, but are intertwined with it, creating an atmosphere of harmony and collectivity.

The scene is tinged with innocence and mischief when, in the midst of this exchange of gestures loaded with symbolism, the boy, with the spontaneity typical of his age, exclaims: "Mom, you're taming the horse you saddled!"

This innocent and unfiltered comment by the little boy encapsulates the way in which the town's metaphors and traditions have been integrated into everyday language, even in family interaction. For the boy, the image of his mother "taming" someone—in this case, the young man who so respectfully courts and submits to her—is mixed with the idea of ​​treating a horse, a creature of noble bearing and symbolism in the local culture.

The boy's use of the word "taming" reinforces the idea that, in this environment, relationships are woven through gestures that imitate the interaction between rider and steed. As the teacher continues her gesture, scratching the young man's hair, the childish comment adds a layer of humour and authenticity to the situation, underlining the living presence of tradition in everyday life.

The son's intervention, in this context, not only brings lightness to the atmosphere, but also shows how customs and metaphors are passed down from generation to generation, becoming part of the language and collective identity of the people.

The Trip (4)

The newlyweds could not believe their eyes. The wife, fascinated and amused, let out a crystalline laugh as she exclaimed: "Oh, my best man!"

Her laughter echoed through the terminal, reflecting her astonishment and amusement at the peculiar custom of the town. Her husband, still processing the scene, looked at her with a mixture of bewilderment and curiosity before asking with some disbelief: "Should I carry you on my shoulders?"

Before she could answer, the best man, with a knowing and enthusiastic smile, approached the couple and exclaimed energetically: "Come on! My goddaughter must ride onto the bus."

His tone was firm but jovial, like someone who remembers an unquestionable tradition and proudly presents it. For him, it was unthinkable that his beloved goddaughter would simply walk onto the bus like any other traveler. No, she had to do it with style, with the elegance she deserved, like a true lady of the town.

The wife looked at her husband with a spark of mischief in her eyes, enjoying the idea that he, who still did not fully understand the customs of the place, was at a crossroads. Would he dare to carry her on his shoulders or would he yield the honor to someone else?

Meanwhile, around them, other travelers watched with knowing smiles, because they knew that, in this town, ladies did not walk when there were gentlemen willing to carry them with pride.

The husband remained silent for a moment, still surprised by the situation. He looked at his wife, who smiled mischievously at him, and then at the best man, who watched him with a defiant but playful expression. "If you are not her horse, I will be," the best man declared firmly, taking a step forward.

Without waiting for a reply, he bowed slightly and offered his back to the newlywed, like a gentleman ready to comply with tradition. She, laughing, looked at her husband waiting for his reaction.

The husband sighed, understanding that in this town the customs were clear and that his wife, with her radiant beauty and charming personality, was treated like a queen. Finally, with a slight smile, he surrendered to the situation and said: "Okay... I'll be her horse."

He crouched before his wife, who, with a satisfied smile, gracefully settled on his shoulders. Feeling her light weight, he stood firmly.

The townspeople watching the scene applauded with joy, celebrating that the husband accepted the tradition of the town. The best man smiled with satisfaction and commented: "That's how you say it, boy. Now, my goddaughter will travel properly."

With her husband carrying her on his shoulders, the wife felt like a true lady of the village, enjoying every moment of her arrival to this place where traditions and chivalry reigned.

A lady of the village, observing the scene attentively, raised an eyebrow and commented in a curious tone: "He did not bridle or saddle him."

Her observation caused several of those present to nod, since in the village it was customary for the "horses" to be properly equipped with a bridle, bit and saddle before being mounted.

The best man, with a patient smile and knowledge of the situation, calmly replied: "Slowly, madam, it is your first time."

His tone was understanding, like someone guiding an apprentice in a new experience. Everyone laughed with complicity, understanding that the husband was still adapting to the customs of the village.

The wife, amused by the conversation, tilted her head towards her husband and whispered playfully: "Don't worry, love, you'll learn in time."

He, although still somewhat surprised by everything, smiled and moved on, accepting that on this honeymoon he would not only discover a new place, but also a culture where chivalry is lived in a very particular way.

As they moved forward in the line to get on the bus, the newlywed looked ahead and saw the teacher, who was comfortably installed on the shoulders of her young "horse." The teacher's posture was relaxed but dominant, holding the reins with elegance while her mount waited patiently.

The newlywed, enjoying the experience of being carried on her husband's shoulders, felt her phone vibrate. As she answered, the voice of her best man resonated with his characteristic tone of complicity and enthusiasm: "There are still tickets, talk to your husband and decide if I travel with you."

She smiled, a mischievous spark in her eyes, and gently stroked her husband's head, as if she was thinking of how to respond. Then, in a playful tone, she asked, "Honey, what do you say? Shall we take my godfather with us on the trip?"

The husband, who was still adjusting to the unusual experience of carrying her on his shoulders, glanced at his wife and then sighed. He knew that with his godfather nearby, the experience would surely be even more intense, but he also understood that she was enjoying every moment of it.

After a few seconds of reflection, he replied: "You decide, love. After all, it seems that on this trip you are in charge."

She laughed with delight and went back to the phone: "Godfather, we are waiting for you. This trip will be even more fun with you."

The Trip (6)

The goddaughter told her best man, “I have to pee,” he replied as he got on all fours, “There’s a toilet here, I’ll take you.”

The newlywed burst out laughing as she watched her best man get on all fours so naturally. “Oh, best man! You’re amazing!” she exclaimed, bringing a hand to her mouth to contain her laughter.

She looked at her husband, waiting for his reaction, but he simply sighed and rubbed his forehead in resignation. “Really… this trip is something else,” he murmured, keeping his composure as he watched the scene seriously.

The wife, still amused, tilted her head and in a playful tone asked, “Honey, do you want a break? Best man seems very enthusiastic about taking me.”

The husband stared at her, crossing his arms. “No. I’ll take you.”

The newlywed laughed even louder and patted him affectionately on the head. “Oh, you’re so serious! But I like seeing you like this.”

The best man smiled too and, still on the ground, added in a playful tone, “Well, goddaughter, if you ever need a spare horse, you know I’m here.”

The wife nodded with a playful smile, while the husband took a deep breath, remaining patient. No doubt this trip would continue to bring many surprises.

The newlywed continued to laugh as she looked at her husband, who stood with his arms crossed. “Come on, love, what do you decide? Do you take me or do I let my best man take me?”

The husband pursed his lips, looked at his best man—who was still on the ground waiting—and sighed deeply. Without saying a word, he knelt down and then got on all fours.

The wife looked at him with surprise and excitement. "Oh, how cute! My serious but dutiful little horse," she said playfully as she settled herself on his back.

The best man clapped his hands in amusement. "That's true love! A husband who carries his wife with him at all times."

While the newlywed enjoyed the ride, stroking her husband's head as if taming a steed, he moved forward with a frown and a stoic expression. "I hope this goes quickly," the husband murmured.

"Depends… if I like it, maybe I'll get used to it," she joked with a mischievous laugh.

The best man laughed as he watched them go. The honeymoon was definitely turning out to be much more interesting than the husband had imagined.

A lady came out of the bathroom door, and to the wife she said, "Can I borrow your horse? I'll ride him to my seat and he'll come back for you," the wife replied, "Yes."

The husband raised his head in surprise and frowned upon hearing the conversation. "Wait a minute! What do you mean, you're lending me some money?" he exclaimed, still on all fours.

The wife, amused, patted him on the head. "Easy, love. They're just asking you for a small favor. You're strong, you can do it."

The other lady, with a charming smile, wasted no time and gracefully climbed onto the husband's back. "Such a firm little horse! Thank you, dear," she said, settling in confidently.

The husband sighed, but with no other option, he began to slowly advance while the newlywed leaned against the bathroom wall, enjoying the scene with a big smile.

When the husband reached the other lady's seat, she gracefully descended and patted him on the head. "Good boy. Now go get your original rider."

The husband closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and retraced his steps, still on all fours. Seeing him return, the wife smiled sweetly at him. "You're the best, love."

"Get in and don't say anything," he murmured, resigned.

She climbed onto his back again, delighted. As he carried her back to her seat, she tenderly stroked his hair. "I think I'm getting used to traveling like this."

The husband just sighed. This trip was definitely going to be unforgettable.

The Trip (8)

The newlywed wife listened attentively as the lady teacher patiently explained, "First comes the bit. This helps you to better direct your horse. You must place it in his mouth gently, but firmly. Then, you tie the bridle on his head and pass the reins along his sides. This way you will have complete control of his movements."

The wife watched with curiosity as the lady teacher demonstrated with her own "horse," the teenager who was ridden on her shoulders by her at the bus terminal. "Next comes the saddle," the lady teacher continued. "It must fit snugly over the horse's shoulders and back so that you are comfortable and he has no excuse to complain."

The wife laughed in amusement and looked at her husband with a mixture of mischief and affection. "Did you hear that, love? No complaints!"

The husband sighed in resignation, while the best man laughingly commented, "Don't worry, boy, you'll get used to it in time."

The lady teacher finished her explanation: "With everything in place, you just need to hold the reins and give the commands confidently. Remember, the horse must feel that you are in complete control."

The wife, excited, took the reins firmly and gave her husband a light shake, who only closed his eyes for a moment before going along with the flow. "Come on, my love! It's time to practice what we've learned."

Everyone laughed as the newlywed prepared to test out her new dressage skills.

The atmosphere inside the bus was filled with laughter and amazement as the lady teacher and the newlywed demonstrated their mastery over their respective "horses."

The two ladies, sporting spectacular riding outfits, looked imposing on their human horses. The lady teacher wore an elegant horsewoman outfit: a tight, long-sleeved blouse, riding jacket, tight pants, and tall black leather boots. In contrast, the newlywed wore a dark corset with gold detailing, beige riding breeches, and knee-high brown boots that enhanced her dominant bearing.

The two horses, with the bit in their mouths and the bridle tightly fastened, were on all fours facing each other, ready to follow the orders of their riders. The lady teacher, with the confidence of an expert, skillfully handled the reins of her horse, while the newlywed, still learning, watched every movement with excitement. "Relax your wrists, but keep control," instructed the lady teacher, as she gently pulled the reins to make her horse advance a few steps.

Following her example, the wife moved the reins firmly, causing her husband to react instantly. "That's it! You're already starting to tame him," commented the lady teacher with a smile, as she used the spurs to make her animal move faster.

The men obeyed docilely, moving according to the orders of their riders. The newlywed, enjoying the feeling of control, made her husband spin in circles before stopping him with a light tug on the reins. The best man watched with a mixture of pride and amusement. “I knew it! My goddaughter has a natural talent for riding.”

The other ladies on the bus, some also experienced in taming their own horses, watched the scene with approval and knowing smiles. “Welcome to the village tradition!” exclaimed one of them.

The husband, although embarrassed, could not help but notice the happiness on his wife’s face. At that moment he understood that on this trip they would not only discover a new place, but also a new dynamic in their relationship.

The atmosphere on the bus was full of excitement as the passengers watched the scene with curiosity and admiration. The lady professor and the newlywed, still riding on their human horses, prepared to disembark.

The teenage horse of the lady teacher and the newly married husband, fully bridled and saddled, began to move on all fours down the aisle of the bus. Their riders maintained a firm and elegant bearing, handling the reins with skill. "Come on, boys, show your training," said the lady teacher with a smile, giving a slight tug on the reins of her animal.

The newlywed, amused and excited, imitated the gesture and with a movement of her spurs made her husband move forward.

The rest of the passengers, already familiar with the customs of the town, applauded and commented with laughter. Some ladies, entertained by the scene, commented among themselves: "What a good posture the newlywed has, she will learn quickly." "And her husband... well, it seems that he still needs some training, but he is doing well."

Upon reaching the bus door, the men bowed slightly, allowing their riders to keep their balance as they climbed out. The lady professor and the newlywed gracefully descended, always keeping control of their horses.

On dry land, the newlywed looked at her best man with a triumphant smile and exclaimed, "We're riding right!"

The best man nodded proudly. "That's right, goddaughter. Now, off to explore the town... but remember, a good rider never lets go of the reins."

The ladies looked at each other knowingly, while their horses (on all fours and ridden by her) waited patiently for their next commands.

The newlywed, still riding on her husband, looked curiously at the hoops secured with cement on the ground. "What are those hoops for?" she asked with interest.

The lady teacher, still riding her teenage horse, smiled and explained: "These are tie-down points. Here, when human horses need to rest or when ladies want to take a break without dismounting or when ladies decide to go somewhere else leaving their animals secured, they can tie them there using the reins or a rope."

The newlywed opened her eyes in surprise and excitement. "So this is also where they park their horses?"

The lady teacher nodded. "Exactly. Sometimes the men wait like this, tied patiently, while their riders shop or chat with other ladies."

The newlywed laughed, looking at her husband. "Well, love, it seems you will also have to learn to wait tied like a good horse."

The best man, who was walking beside them, added with a smile: "Don't worry, goddaughter, in this town all the horses learn quickly."

Riding into the village (2)

The newlywed wife was beaming and full of excitement. Her charming laugh and confident expression reflected how much she was enjoying the experience. Her riding attire highlighted her elegant bearing: a fitted burgundy jacket with gold buttons that flattered her figure, a white high-necked blouse, beige riding breeches, and knee-high brown leather boots, perfectly polished. Her hair, tied back in a high ponytail, fluttered in the wind as they rode.

She rode into the village on the shoulders of her husband, who was well bridled and saddled. With the reins firmly in her hands, she guided her animal with ease, enjoying every step of the journey. Behind her, four more men advanced on foot, she also held their reins, ready for any relief on the journey.

The lady professor, for her part, radiated serenity and authority. Her experience in riding human horses was evident in the firm and natural posture with which she rode. She wore an elegant black riding suit, with a tight-fitting jacket, white riding pants, and shiny black leather riding boots, which her horses adored. Leather gloves completed her outfit, giving her a distinguished air.

She rode comfortably on her young horse, the same one that had carried her on the bus. Her other four horses walked docilely behind her, ready to take turns on the ride. Her animal went at a steady pace, demonstrating his training and devotion to her.

As they rode, the wife and the teacher exchanged smiles and comments about the trip, enjoying the comfort their horses provided. The sound of boots in the stirrups and the light jingling of reins accompanied the ride, while the men beneath them advanced obediently, ensuring that the ride to the village was comfortable, elegant, and pleasant for their riders.

The newlywed husband, though at first surprised by his new reality, now felt a mix of emotions. Pride, at being his wife's main horse, leading her steadily and feeling her weight on his shoulders, knowing that she trusted his endurance. Submission and devotion, at seeing how happy she was riding him, gripping the reins with authority and enjoying the ride. In his mind, he repeated to himself: "I am her horse, her transport, her pride. As long as she rides me, I know that I belong to her."

Every time his wife lightly pulled on the reins, lashed with the whip or pressed with the spurs, a shiver of obedience ran through his body. He felt the softness of the reins on his face, the imposing weight of her and the saddle on his shoulders and back and the slight tickle of the stirrups being stepped on by her boots. When he looked out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other males his wife had chosen as relief horses, and he said to himself: "I must be the best, she must always prefer me."

The young horse of the lady professor, on the other hand, was already experienced in this, but still every trip with his rider was an honor. He felt fulfilled every time the professor pulled the reins, her melodious voice gave him orders or the spurs of her boots made contact with his body to show him the way. For him, being ridden by her was an incomparable privilege.

His thoughts were clear: "I am her horse, her transport, her faithful mount. I need nothing more in life than to serve her well." Every time she adjusted her posture in the saddle or caressed him with leather gloves, a feeling of satisfaction ran down his back. He looked at the other horses walking with them, and knew that they all wanted to be ridden by her, but he was her favorite at that moment.

As they rode toward the village, both husband and young horse felt the symbolic weight of their role, but also the satisfaction of knowing they were making their riders happy. Their bodies might tire, but in their minds and hearts they knew this was their purpose.

Riding into the Village (4)

The young lady added, “Teacher, don’t forget the daddies, who carry mommies, teachers, and students on their shoulders.”

The lady teacher smiled knowingly and nodded. “Of course, dear. Daddies are always willing to carry their ladies on their shoulders. It’s a natural role for them.”

The young lady looked at her mount, the 50-year-old professor who was carrying her with dedication, and added with a smile, “And not just daddies… teachers know their place, too.”

The newlywed wife laughed amusedly as she stroked her husband’s head. “Look, love, there are already several examples for you to follow.”

The husband gulped and looked at the ground, accepting the reality of his new life. The teacher’s young horse also watched silently, understanding that this was just the beginning of his destiny as a mount.

Friend, “Do you realize how ladies know how to ride with authority?” said the lady professor with a confident smile. “This is something you will soon master completely.”

The newlywed wife nodded, feeling a growing excitement at the sight of so many women riding confidently. She looked at her husband, who remained docile and on all fours, awaiting her commands. “Yes, professor. I am getting used to it quickly. It feels natural.”

The young lady riding the 50-year-old professor chimed in with an amused laugh. “You obviously enjoy your role, my dear. The more you practice it, the more pleasurable it will be for you… and your horse too.”

The horses, including the husband and the professor’s young horse, exchanged silent glances. They knew their lives would never be the same again.

Turning to the newly married wife, the lady teacher said, “She is a local lady riding on a foreign man, and I am a foreign lady riding on a local man, most are local ladies riding on local men, there are also foreign ladies riding on foreign men.”

The newly married wife nodded with a smile upon hearing the lady teacher’s explanation. “I see that all combinations are possible here,” she said, as she lightly moved the reins of her husband, who lowered his head in obedience.

The young local lady looked proudly at her beast, the foreign man who held her firmly. “The important thing,” she said with a smile, “is that everyone knows their role and accepts it with pleasure.”

The lady teacher nodded and added, “That is right. The balance is maintained because everyone fulfills their function.”

The horse men in the group said nothing, but in their hearts they knew that those words were true.

The lady teacher addressed the newlywed husband: “You look tired, do you need to be replaced so your wife can ride another of her horses? Maybe your best man?”

The newlywed husband, still breathing hard, looked up at his wife, who was looking at him with a mix of amusement and consideration. “No… I can still go on” he replied, trying to sound firm, although his legs were shaking slightly.

The wife smiled and, with a slight tug on the reins, she stroked his head. “You are strong, love… but if you need a break, tell me. I don’t want you to exhaust yourself too much.”

The best man, who was nearby, looked up with a slight smile. “If my godson needs a replacement, I will be happy to serve my goddaughter” he said in a respectful tone.

The lady teacher nodded in satisfaction. “Very well, let us continue moving forward. A good rider knows when to demand and when to give his mount a break.”

The horses continued on their way, and the husband felt a mixture of pride and fatigue, determined to prove his endurance.

Riding into town (6)

At this point a medical intern arrived. “It’s about time you arrived, said the nurse!” She stood up, put him on all fours, sat on his back and from this position continued to monitor her husband’s vital signs.

The medical intern, a serious young man, but somewhat nervous about her beauty and spectacularity, let himself be guided by the nurse, who put him on all fours without hesitation, and then she sat on top of him.

The husband watched with some astonishment as the lady nurse took control of the situation. Now, instead of sitting on his chest, she settled on the back of the medical intern, who obeyed without question.

“This way I can continue to observe the patient better,” she said to the doctor, sitting on top of the doctor, crossing her legs, and placing one hand on his back for balance. Then, turning to the patient, “I have a better view from here to monitor your vital signs,” the nurse said, making sure the IV was flowing properly.

The intern, though surprised by the sudden order, remained on all fours, supporting the nurse’s weight as she continued with her work.

The husband sighed. “I guess this is normal around here…” he muttered.

The nurse smiled. “Oh, right. It’s the best way to get around and get on with work at the same time.”

The husband, still lying on the floor, looked at the scene in disbelief. “Is this part of the medical procedure?” he asked in a weak voice.

“Of course,” the nurse replied with a mischievous smile. “We apply alternative methods here to ensure the well-being of patients.”
The intern tried to maintain his composure, but he couldn’t help but feel strange in his position. Still, he stood firm, as the nurse continued to monitor the husband’s vital signs from her new height.

The medical intern said nothing, but his breathing became heavier as he felt the nurse on top of him. Still, he stood firm, fulfilling his role without complaint.

Once the last drop of the serum entered the husband's bloodstream, the nurse removed the IV equipment.

The husband slowly stood up, his body feeling more stable after the administration of the serum. The nurse watched his movements carefully before smiling with satisfaction. “Good, it seems you have recovered,” she said in a kind tone. “Now, follow me.”

With astonishing ease, the nurse climbed onto the shoulders of the bridled and saddled medical intern, adjusting herself deftly as she grabbed the reins. “Come on, doctor,” she ordered with a light pat on his shoulder.

The medical intern did nothing but nod and advance with a firm step, carrying her without difficulty.

The husband, for his part, sighed and began to follow them on foot. He walked in better spirits, although in his mind he couldn't help but compare his situation with that of the medical intern. “It seems that here we all end up serving in one way or another…” he thought, as he looked ahead and saw how the nurse enjoyed her elevated position.

Further on they came across another patient being treated, the godson recognized his godfather, both looked at each other. The best man, lying on the floor with two bottles of serum hanging on his sides, smiled weakly as he saw his godson approach. His eyes reflected tiredness, but also a strange satisfaction.

“I so wanted to be my wife's horse, trotting, galloping and neighing… look how you've turned out. Is she with you?” the godson asked, half joking and half serious.

The godfather tried to laugh, but only managed a ragged breath. “It was worth it…” he whispered. “I don't regret anything…”

The godson shook his head, unable to avoid a smile. He knew how long his godfather had dreamed of this moment, and now he saw him there, exhausted, but proud to have served his wife. “And where is she now?” the godson insisted.

“She… moved on… riding another of her horses…” the godfather replied, with a nostalgic gleam in his eyes. “But she will return… I know she will return.”

The godson sighed, not knowing whether to laugh or worry about his godfather. He knew that, as soon as he recovered, he would once again offer himself to her as her faithful steed, no matter the consequences.

The godfather blinked a few times, his gaze lost in the sky as the serum continued to slowly drip into his bloodstream.
“She will not return for you, godfather, she will not,” the godson said, with a tone somewhere between serious and compassionate.

The godfather sketched a weak smile, but not of sadness, but of acceptance. “I know…” he whispered. “She doesn’t need to go back… because I already took her where she wanted to go.”

The godson sighed. It was useless to try to make him understand anything else. “What if she replaced you with another horse?” asked the godson, trying to provoke him.

The godfather closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “That means I have done my duty… Horses are not eternal, but riders always ride.”

The godson shook his head, but deep down, he couldn’t help but admire his godfather’s unwavering devotion.

The Rescue (2)

In her attire, the nurse maintains the classic colors of her uniform, but adapted to an elegant riding suit that enhances her presence. Her attire combines professionalism with the bearing of an expert rider.
A tight-fitting white jacket with gold buttons and a high collar, highlighting her slender figure and distinguished bearing.
Tight-fitting navy blue riding breeches, designed to provide comfort and elegance while riding.
High, shiny black leather boots with silver spurs, reflecting her authority in taming her "horse."
White gloves, adding a touch of sophistication as she holds the reins firmly.
Adapted nurse's cap, white with red details, instead of the classic equestrian helmet, merging her medical role with her status as an Amazon.
Short blue cape with red trim, fluttering slightly with the movement of her horse, symbolizing her duality between healer and tamer.
Every element of her outfit reinforces her elegance, authority, and dominance over her "horse," while maintaining her professional air as a nurse.

"What will happen to him?" the godson asked the nurse. "He will stay overnight, we will keep him in a tent and protect him from the elements and wild animals." "Will he be left alone?" The nurse was silent, then said, "We don't have enough staff, and no one forced him to be a horse. If you like, you can come with us to frolic with your wife. If you like, you can stay with him. We will find your wife and ask her to come and stay here overnight. She will come if she wishes."

The godson looked at his godfather, still connected to IVs, his body exhausted after having fulfilled his longed-for role as a horse. He silently reflected on the nurse's words. He knew how much his godfather had wanted to be ridden by his wife, but now he was paying the price for his fervent longing.

He looked at the tent where they would leave him, an improvised shelter in the open air. Would his wife really come to spend the night with him? He was not sure, and the doubt worried him.

Finally, he took a deep breath and replied: "I'm going to look for my wife. I'll tell her the situation and let her decide. In the meantime, please take good care of him."

The nurse nodded with a slight smile, and the godson prepared to leave, feeling the weight of the decision on his shoulders.

Upon arriving at the town, the husband told his wife about his godfather's situation. The goddaughter was thoughtful, then said: "It's our wedding night, it's special."

The husband nodded, understanding the meaning of his wife's words. It was their wedding night, a unique moment that they had eagerly awaited.

However, the memory of his godfather, exhausted and alone in the tent, did not dissipate from his mind. Could they really fully enjoy themselves knowing he was in such a state?

The goddaughter remained silent for a few moments, then sighed and said, “We deserve to enjoy our special night… but he deserves to be taken care of, too. Let me think about it for a bit.”

The husband looked at her with understanding, knowing that whatever her decision was, he would support her.

She dressed in riding attire and asked her husband, “Do you have the strength to carry me or shall I call another horse?”

The husband looked at her with determination, sensing that, despite his exhaustion, he did not want to let her down on her special night. “I have the strength,” she replied firmly.

She smiled with satisfaction as she bridled and saddled him, then she adjusted her elegant riding attire. “Fine,” she said as she adjusted her gloves and took the reins. “Then, carry me.”

He moved into position, and she gracefully mounted his shoulders, settling her legs firmly at her husband's sides. "Now, let's go see my godfather," she ordered, directing him with the reins, whip, and spurs.

As they rode forward in the moonlight, the husband felt the weight of his wife as an honor. She was not only his rider, she was his owner, his lady, and tonight, he would carry her with pride.

Upon reaching the best man, she dismounted and he was attended to by the nurse, who told the wife: "We have arranged for additional personnel, we will strap your husband and your best man onto a wide stretcher, put a saddle on top of them and you will ride them while the stretcher bearers carry the stretcher, if you get tired of the two of you you can ride on the shoulders of the bridled and saddled stretcher bearer you wish!"

The wife nodded with a satisfied smile. "I like the idea," she replied as she watched the special stretcher being prepared for transport.

Her husband and best man, still weakened, were accommodated and strapped firmly onto the wide stretcher, with the saddle placed over them. Meanwhile, the stretcher bearers prepared to carry the frame, their faces showing discipline and obedience.

With elegance and authority, the wife approached the stretcher and gracefully mounted the saddle. "Now, let's go to town," she ordered, taking the reins firmly.

The stretcher bearers began to advance, carrying the two boys on whom she rode with pride. "If I get tired, I know I have more horses available," she thought with a smile, observing the stretcher bearers bridled and ready to serve.

Seeing his beloved rider on his chest and belly, the best man began to neigh, seconded by the husband.

The wife smiled with satisfaction as she heard the neighing of her best man and her husband below her. "That's how I like it, happy and willing horses," she said as she adjusted her posture in the saddle and took a firm grip on the reins.

The stretcher bearers advanced with a firm step, carrying the two boys on whom she rode with elegance and authority. Each movement of the stretcher reinforced her dominance, and the neighing continued, expressing the devotion of her animals.

"Enjoy the honor of serving me," she thought, as she looked down the road to the village, knowing that this wedding night would be unforgettable.

Dreams (2)

The godfather fell into a deep sleep again, and this time he found himself in an open field under a clear, blue sky. The wind caressed the tall grass as he felt his body fused with another, as if he shared his fate with someone else. He tried to move, but something held him firm, restrained.

Suddenly, he felt a warm, familiar weight on his back… his goddaughter. She was there, riding him confidently, and her smile reflected a mix of satisfaction and dominance. "Now I have my double mount," she said in an amused tone, gently pulling on the reins.

The godfather glanced sideways and noticed that his godson was there too, tied to him, sharing the load, both serving as a single steed for their rider. He felt strangely proud, as if this was the highest honor he could aspire to. Being his goddaughter's mount, even in conjunction with another, was the fulfillment of his deepest wish.

She made a slight movement with her legs and spurs, giving them the signal to move forward. Instinctively, both godfather and godson began to move in sync, stumbling at first, but then settling into a steady rhythm.

The sound of hooves echoed in her mind, though she knew it was her own hands and knees hitting the dirt. Each step was a reminder of her surrender, of her devotion, of her destiny.
Suddenly, her goddaughter's voice became clearer: "Come on, my faithful horses, wake up."

She felt a pressure on her back, a slight movement. She opened her eyes slowly, and to her surprise, the image from her dream was real.

He and his godson were strapped together on the stretcher, and she was riding them, smiling with satisfaction. "You're awake at last, my dear godfather. I didn't think you'd tire so quickly," she said, adjusting her position above them.

The best man swallowed, feeling his heart pounding. His dream had come true.

The husband, still deep in exhaustion, fell back into a deep sleep. In his mind, he found himself back on his wedding day, but this time something was different.

He was in a large hall, lit by golden chandeliers. Guests were dressed in their finery, but all the men, including him, were on their knees, some with reins and saddles, others waiting to be saddled. The ladies, in elegant suits and shiny boots, were talking and laughing, as they chose who to ride.

Suddenly, he saw his imposing wife, dressed in her riding habit, high boots and leather gloves. Her look was one of determination and dominance. She slowly approached him and, without saying a word, placed a bridle in his mouth and adjusted the reins. "It's our special night, my faithful horse," she said with a charming smile.

Without hesitation, he knelt down and let her climb onto his shoulders. He felt the weight of his rider, his authority, and the excitement of serving her.

The other ladies applauded and cheered, while his wife directed him with gentle tugs on the reins. He walked proudly, happy to be her animal, her chosen one.

Suddenly, he felt another presence at his side. He glanced sideways and saw the godfather, also ridden by his wife, with an expression somewhere between exhaustion and happiness. "In the end, this is what we always wanted, isn't it?" the godfather told him with a knowing smile.

The husband nodded in his dream, feeling that this was right, that it was his destiny. But just at that moment, his wife's voice became clearer, breaking the fantasy: "Wake up, love... it's time to move on."

He slowly opened his eyes and felt reality. He was still tied up next to his godfather, his wife riding them, and the stretcher-bearers carrying them towards the village.

The dream had faded, but the feeling of belonging and dedication still beat in his chest.

Emergency Room (2)

The patient asked the lady who is a newly married wife: “Madam, please, could you ride on my belly? I wish to be under the angel who brought the doctor.”

The wife smiled charmingly upon hearing the patient's request. With grace and authority, she approached his bed, lifted her riding skirt a little and, with an elegant movement, gently sat on his belly.

The patient sighed deeply, feeling the light but firm weight of his rider. “It is an honor,” he murmured with emotion, closing his eyes as if he were living a dream.

She looked at him curiously and, in a serene voice, asked him: “Does this make you feel better?”

“Much better,” he replied, with a smile of relief and devotion.

She sat elegantly and commandingly, astride him, with her thighs firmly resting on the sides of his torso, ensuring absolute control over him. Her straight back and serene gaze conveyed authority and confidence.

Her riding skirt fell subtly to the sides, while her boots rested on the stretcher, close to his ribs. From this dominant position, she could observe him carefully and make sure he was well cared for.

The patient, his face lit up with admiration, breathed deeply, feeling the weight and presence of his rider as a symbol of protection and care.

Further away, a boy lying on the stretcher had his mother on top of him. The mother was sitting firmly on her son's torso, her posture reflecting both authority and affection. She watched him with a mixture of concern and determination, making sure he was well cared for.

Her son, lying on the stretcher, felt the comforting weight of his mother on him, as if it were a physical reminder of her protective presence. She had no intention of moving until she was sure that the doctors had done everything necessary for his recovery.

All around them, the medical staff and other patients watched the scene with ease. In that place, the image of a mother riding her sick child was simply another expression of maternal care and dominance.

The mother dismounted and said, "I'm going to get the doctor," the boy stood up, still somewhat weak, and did not hesitate to squat down to allow his mother to climb onto his shoulders. She settled herself securely, holding her balance firmly, with her back straight and her hands resting on her son to guide him with precision.
From her elevated position, her presence was imposing, showing everyone that she was in control of the situation. With a firm step, the young man advanced through the corridors of the emergency room, obedient to his mother's instructions. “Faster, son, the doctor can’t wait,” she ordered in an authoritative voice.

He quickened his pace, feeling his mother’s weight as a reminder of his filial duty. No matter the discomfort, his mother was his priority, and he would take her wherever she wanted.

Upon finding the doctor, he, without hesitation, crouched down so that the mother could mount him with ease. She took the reins firmly, making sure that he carried her with the dignity and respect she deserved.

Meanwhile, the boy, still exhausted, was ridden by the nurse to the emergency bed. She guided him gently, but with authority, making sure that he arrived safely.

As the mother and doctor disappeared through the door toward their home, the boy sighed. It was natural, it was the order of things: men served, ladies led.

Once he was lying on the emergency bed, the nurse said to the son: "Boy, your mom will be back tomorrow, rest now."

The boy, still recovering, nodded silently. The nurse, with a serene smile, sat on his belly, making sure he was well accommodated. "Rest now, your mom will be back tomorrow." she repeated in a soft voice, as she checked on his condition.

Her weight on him was a firm and reassuring presence. He knew he was in good hands, that he had no choice but to obey and rest.

The nurse was straddling the boy, with her knees on either side of his torso, ensuring a firm and stable posture as she watched over him. Her dominant presence conveyed authority and care at the same time. From that position, she could observe his condition and make sure he rested without moving too much.

Emergency Room (4)

At this point, the gaze of the imposing lady and the newlywed wife meet, both smile, the young lady leads her horse to where the wife is and tells her: "He is resting peacefully, he will not notice if you unhorse him."

The newlywed wife, a woman of serene beauty and elegant presence, holds the gaze of the imposing lady with a mixture of respect and complicity. Her smile widens with a hint of mischief when she hears the suggestion of the rider. "Do you really think he won't notice?" asks the wife, crossing her arms with a playful air.

The young lady nods confidently, while subtly caressing the hair of the young man who holds her on his shoulders. "He is deep in his rest" she says. "But if you want to check..."

The wife looks at her husband, lying on the stretcher, with the serum still flowing down his arm. Her breathing is calm, her eyes closed in deep rest. The nurse oversees the process with professionalism, but her gaze drifts from time to time to the two women, sensing the special energy between them.

The wife looks at the lady with an expression of subtle defiance. “If I unhorse him… what do you suggest I do next?”

The lady smiles, leaning slightly over her young steed. “Perhaps you would like to try another horse,” she replies with a flash of daring in her eyes. “There is no shortage of volunteers here.”

The wife laughs softly and, without taking her gaze off the rider, dismounts and approaches her husband, her fingers gently brushing his forehead. He barely moves.

The atmosphere in the emergency room seems to have transformed into a silent duel of elegance and power, while the nurse hides a smile as she observes the scene with interest.

At this, the wife realizes that she is being watched by the young man who was ridden by his mother. She says, “What do you want, boy?”

The young man, with a handsome face and intrigued look, looks down with a slight blush on his cheeks at being discovered. His voice hesitates for a moment before he answers, “Excuse me, ma’am… I was just watching…”

The wife, with a soft but inquisitive smile, tilts her head slightly while crossing her arms. “You were watching what exactly?” she asks in a tone that mixes curiosity and amusement.

The boy swallows and looks up, feeling the intensity of the attention on him. “You… and the lady rider,” he finally admits. “It’s just that… my mother is also a rider, and I saw you riding just now.”

The wife exchanges a glance with the young rider, who smiles with amusement. “And that made you think?” the wife insists, arching an eyebrow.

The young man nods shyly, but there is a spark of admiration in his eyes. “Yes… I wonder what it feels like to be ridden by a lady such as yourself…”

The silence in the room becomes thick for a moment. The young rider lets out a charming laugh and pats her steed on the shoulder. “Looks like you have a potential new horse, my dear,” she says mischievously.

The wife, still wearing an enigmatic smile, watches the young man with interest. “You are brave to admit it, my boy,” she says softly. “But tell me… do you consider yourself worthy of it?”

The young man opens his lips, but hesitates in his answer, feeling the intensity of both women’s gazes on him.

“How old are you, my boy?”

The young man swallows before answering, feeling the intensity of the gaze of the wife and the lady rider on him. “Seventeen, my lady,” he says in a firm voice, but with a slight tremor of emotion.

The wife watches him with interest, her expression a mix of curiosity and assessment. “You are still young…” she says in a thoughtful tone. “But you seem willing.”

The young lady rider smiles in amusement and crosses her arms. “He has spirit,” she comments. “Maybe he just needs training.”

The young man straightens up slightly, feeling a mixture of pride and anticipation. “I’ll do whatever it takes,” he states with determination.

The wife and the lady rider exchange a knowing glance. “We’ll see, boy,” the wife replies with a mysterious smile. “We’ll see…”

The ladies whispered so no one else would hear. The young rider said, “When I was a teenager I said I was 17, but I was actually 15 or 14 or 13, and they believed me.”

The wife raised an eyebrow with a sly smile. “So you played with age?” she whispered in an amused tone.

The young rider nodded mischievously. “It helped me get what I wanted. If I said I was 15 or 14 or 13, they treated me like a child; but at 17, they saw me as a woman.”

The wife laughed softly, understanding the cleverness behind his words. “Clever. Knowing when and how to say something changes the game.”

The young man, attentive but not quite listening to the whisper, sensed the intensity of the moment. He knew these women were on another level, playing in a league where strategy and control were everything. “And what will you do with this boy?” the wife asked quietly.

The young rider glanced at him and smiled confidently. “Whatever it takes.”

Emergency Room (6)

The young rider's horse's doctor came in first. She approached the bed and sat on top of the patient. She made a gesture with her hand and the doctor knelt down.

The doctor, with a mixture of respect and admiration, obeyed without hesitation. He knelt before the young rider, who sat naturally on top of her patient, crossing one leg over the other elegantly. “How is my horse?” she asked, without taking her firm gaze off the doctor.

“He's receiving treatment, my lady,” the doctor replied, bowing his head. “The IV will stabilize him in about an hour.”

She nodded, satisfied. With a slight movement of her hand, she indicated that he could continue with his work, but the doctor did not move immediately. “Is there anything else I should know?” she asked in a slow voice.

“Just that… your horse has shown admirable resistance,” said the doctor, in a tone that reflected both professionalism and admiration. “It is evident that he is very well trained to serve you.”

She smiled, gently caressing the chest and face of the patient on whom she is sitting. “I know,” she replied proudly. “He has been faithful and strong. But make sure he receives the best care.”

The doctor, still kneeling, nodded immediately. “I will do everything necessary, my lady.”

With a slight inclination of his head, the young rider allowed the doctor to show his devotion. He, without hesitation, moved closer and lowered his gaze, his lips touching the shiny leather of her boots.

First he kissed the top, the fine material that fitted elegantly to her legs. Then, with utmost respect, he moved down to the base, leaving a kiss on each seam, smelling the scent of well-cared-for leather.

Finally, he reached the soles and high heels, where he placed more leisurely kisses, as if in each of them he expressed his recognition and submission to the lady.

She watched calmly, enjoying the act with the confidence of someone who knows her presence is undeniable. When she was satisfied, she slightly removed her foot and indicated that she could stand up.

The doctor, with a mixture of reverence and fascination, slowly stood up, avoiding looking her directly in the eyes, as if he were still under the spell of her authority. Meanwhile, she remained seated on her horse, enjoying the attention her presence imposed on the room.

The young rider said to the wife: “Your husband’s doctor and your godfather will soon come, sit on one of them and I will sit on the other.”

The wife looked at her husband and godfather, who were still fascinated by the presence of the young rider. For a moment, she hesitated, but the confidence with which the lady spoke enveloped her. “Okay,” she replied with a slight smile.

Without further hesitation, she approached her husband and, naturally, sat on his abdomen, feeling how he held his breath in surprise. At the same time, the young rider did the same with the godfather, gracefully settling herself on his chest, crossing her legs elegantly. “This way the doctors will know who to attend to first,” said the young rider with a confident smile.

The men, despite being on the stretcher, did not complain. On the contrary, an expression of satisfaction appeared on their faces.

The Path to the Wedding Night (1)

Leaving the health facility, they met the young rider's horse doctor who knelt before her, the young rider offered him the soles and high heels of her boots, saying, “kiss and lick.”

The doctor, without hesitation, bowed his head and began to kiss and lick with devotion the soles and high heels of the young rider's boots. His lips brushed the leather reverently while his tongue ran over the surface in submission.

The young rider smiled with satisfaction, enjoying the gesture of absolute respect. As he continued with his task, she looked at the wife and winked. “You see, my dear, men always know their place when it is shown to them firmly,” he commented in a charming tone.

The wife observed the scene with a mixture of surprise and admiration. Her husband and best man, serving as her mounts, also witnessed the moment with respect and envy.

When the doctor finished his adoration, the young rider gracefully lifted her foot and placed it on his shoulder. “Very well, doctor, you have pleased me. Now tell me, how is my horse?” she asked with an air of authority.

The doctor, still in his submissive position, replied in a trembling voice, “Your horse will spend the night under observation, but he will be strong and ready to serve you again very soon.”

The young rider nodded in satisfaction and, with a slight movement of her boot, indicated that she could stand up. Then, she turned to the wife and asked with a mischievous smile, “Well, my dear, how do you wish to continue this wonderful wedding night?”

“We are going to a discotheque,” ​​said the wife.

The young rider smiled enthusiastically. “Perfect! It will be an unforgettable night.”

The wife looked at her husband and best man. “You will take us.”

The husband and best man nodded without hesitation. The wife rode on her husband, and the young rider rode on the best man. “We’re off!” the young rider exclaimed, pulling on the reins as both men began to move, proudly leading them.

As they arrived at the club, the entrance lit up with neon lights. The security guards, seeing the scene, were stunned, and one of them murmured, “What a spectacle!”

The people in line stepped aside, admiring the ladies’ elegance and mastery over their human horses. Some women whispered comments, while some men watched them with fascination and envy.

The young rider and the wife gracefully descended, adjusting their dresses and boots. “Let’s dance,” the wife said with a smile.

The young rider nodded, looking around confidently. “It’s going to be a legendary night.”

After dancing and a few drinks, they left, the wife riding on the shoulders of the best man and the young rider riding on the shoulders of the husband.

As they left the club, the music continued to thump, but all eyes were on them. The young rider, with a satisfied smile, adjusted her posture on the shoulders of her husband, who moved forward with determination.

The wife, for her part, enjoyed the view from above, riding on top of her best man.

“It was a great night,” said the wife, laughing.

“And it’s not over yet,” replied the young rider with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Passersby looked at them in awe and admiration. Some men sighed with envy, while others wondered how they could offer themselves as horses next time.

The four of them advanced along the street lit by lanterns, the ladies’ boots shining with each step. “Let’s go home,” said the wife with authority.

The human horses nodded and continued on their way, knowing that this night would be etched in the memories of all who witnessed it.

They arrived at the door of the hotel, where the newlyweds would enjoy their wedding night, the wife riding on her husband and the young rider on the best man.

The young rider said: “I will take this horse to the stable and keep him in a stall, tying his reins to a post and locking his door, so he will not bother you tonight.”

The wife laughed and said: “You are right.”

The Godfather and the Young Rider (1)

Under the silver light of the full moon, the young rider walked gracefully towards the hotel barn. Her silhouette cast a majestic shadow on the old wood of the stable while her high-heeled boots echoed softly on the stone floor. With a slight push, she opened the door of the stall where she had kept her mount or animal: the godfather.

He, still somewhat sleepy, blinked at the sight of her. But instantly, recognizing her presence, he knelt down in a sign of respect and obedience.

“It is time to leave” she said softly, but with the firmness of someone who knows that her orders are carried out without question.

She leaned towards him, delicately untying the reins that kept him secured to the post. Then, with the grace of a skilled rider, she placed her buoy in the stirrup, leapt gracefully, and landed softly on the saddle still resting on his shoulders, then stepped onto the other stirrup. She adjusted her stance, making sure her weight was perfectly balanced, and in one fluid motion, she inserted the bit back into her horse’s mouth, holding the reins firmly. “Come on, good horse,” she whispered, giving him a light pat on the neck.

The groomsman was immediately on his feet, his back firm under his rider’s pressure. She felt his muscles tense as he supported her, as if his entire body was dedicated to giving her the most comfortable ride possible.

The moon lit the way as they made their way through the quiet streets, the sound of her boot soles and spurs clicking against the sides of her horse with each step. Sometimes she would lightly tug on the reins to correct his direction, other times a gentle touch from his spurs would indicate that he should hurry.

As they moved forward, the night breeze played with her loose hair, and her eyes shone with the satisfaction of knowing she was completely in control. In her hand, she held the whip, though she did not need it. Her horse was obedient and dedicated, moving forward with determination towards its destination: home.

The silence of the night was only interrupted by the sound of her footsteps and the accelerated heartbeat of her mount, which, although tired, continued forward with devotion. When they finally arrived, she gently pulled on the reins, indicating that he should kneel.

He obeyed, and with the same grace with which she had ridden, she dismounted, smoothing her clothes before giving him one last look with a satisfied smile. “You have done a good job tonight,” she said, gently stroking his hair.

The godfather, still on his knees, lowered his head in humility, knowing that he had served his rider well.

With a slight turn of her boots, she made her way to the door of her house, the full moon still illuminating her imposing figure in the silent night.

She opened the door to her house with a graceful movement, letting the dim light from within filter into the darkness of the night. She turned slightly and looked down, where her animal, still on all fours, watched her submissively.

With a soft but commanding smile, she raised an eyebrow and said in a velvety voice, “Come, come in.”

He obeyed immediately, advancing on all fours like a loyal steed following his rider’s commands. His hands and knees brushed the wooden floor as he crossed the threshold, feeling the warmth of home envelop him.

She closed the door behind them with a soft click and stood looking at him, enjoying the scene. Her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, and her silhouette cast an imposing shadow against the wall.

She calmly approached and let the toe and spur of her boot run slowly along his back, as if assessing his condition after the long ride. “You’ve been a good horse tonight,” she murmured with a flirtatious smile.

The Godfather and the Young Rider (3)

She then sat gracefully on a nearby chair, crossing her legs elegantly, and with a slight gesture of her finger, motioned for him to come closer.

He lowered his posture even further and, in total submission, began to crawl towards her, leaning on his elbows and knees. The sound of his breathing was soft, barely audible, as he slowly advanced over the wooden floor, each movement imbued with respect and devotion.

She watched him with a mixture of satisfaction and tenderness, enjoying his obedience. The lamplight illuminated his face, highlighting the intensity of his gaze.

When he reached her feet, she slightly raised one boot, brushing the tip of her foot against his chin and lifting his face so that he looked at her. “That’s how I like it,” she whispered, with a charming smile.

Then, with a slight movement of her foot, she encouraged him to continue, awaiting his next action with expectation.

She let out a playful, melodious laugh, watching him with amusement. “You crawl like a worm,” she said with a mischievous smile, moving the toe of her boot to gently caress his cheek.

He looked up, his eyes shining with a mixture of adoration and surrender. He didn’t dare to answer, he simply continued to advance humbly, sliding on his elbows and knees until he was right before her.

She crossed her arms and looked at him with an air of superiority, barely bowing her head. “And what does a worm do when it comes before me?” he asked, waiting for his reaction with curiosity and expectation.

She smiled with satisfaction, enjoying his submission. With one graceful movement, she removed the morsel from his mouth, allowing him to speak freely. He looked up at her, still on his elbows and knees, and said in a firm, reverent voice, “Its place is beneath the soles and heels of your boots.”

She laughed softly, her gaze shining with amusement and dominance. With a slow but determined movement, she slightly lifted her boot and placed it gently on his head, applying barely any pressure. “You know your place,” she whispered in a charming tone. “And I like that.”

Then, with a gesture of her hand, she indicated for him to continue crawling further into the house.

He crawled through her house and reached her bedroom. He saw a hoop on the wall. She said as she tied his reins to the hoop: “To this hoop I tie my horse who is in the health facility, he sleeps on the floor while I sleep in my bed. You will temporarily take his place while he recovers.” She placed a blanket over him.

He obeyed without hesitation, feeling the weight of his new role. Tied by the reins to the hoop on the wall, he looked up at the imposing young rider, whose presence filled the room with a mix of authority and charm.

She approached his bed with the same grace and assurance with which she had ridden him all night. She sat on the edge and watched him with a smile as he, still on the ground, settled his body under the blanket she had placed for him. “Rest well,” she said in a soft, but firm voice. “Tomorrow I will decide what I will do with you.”

She turned off the light, leaving only the dim glow of the moon coming through the window. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the blanket and the sense of having found his place, albeit temporarily.

In the darkness, only her calm breathing and the soft rustling of the sheets could be heard as she settled into his bed.

He fell into a deep sleep, exhausted, but with a feeling of fulfillment. In his dream, he found himself in a vast, moonlit field covered in soft grass. Suddenly, he heard the sound of boots approaching with a firm step.

Looking up, he saw the young rider, even more impressive than in reality. Her silhouette was outlined against the silver moonlight, her hair fluttering in the wind and her high-heeled boots echoing with each step. “Do you know why you are here?” she asked, her voice melodious but imposing.

He nodded, not daring to speak.

“You are my mount, my faithful horse,” she continued. “And now you will prove your devotion.”

With an elegant gesture, she mounted on his shoulders, and he felt her firm but comfortable weight. As she touched his back with her legs, he understood that he must move forward. He began to walk through the field, while the moon shone down on them. “You are strong,” she said with a smile, “but you still have to improve.”

Suddenly, the terrain changed and a path of shiny marble appeared. On either side, a crowd watched them in silence, with admiration and respect for her. He moved forward with pride, feeling that each step was part of a destiny that he could not avoid, but that deep down he longed for.

The wind whispered his name, but before he understood its meaning, her voice called him from reality: “Wake up.”

The Godfather and the Young Rider (5)

He opened his eyes slowly, feeling the weight of the night still on his eyelids. Before he could move, he saw her: she was standing next to him, with a charming smile and a dominant gaze.

“Good morning, my horse,” she whispered sweetly as she leaned toward him.

Without giving him a chance to speak, she took the bit and gently, but firmly, inserted it into his mouth, securing it with the bridle. He felt the pressure of the metal on his tongue and how the straps adjusted to his face. “That’s how I like it,” she said as she passed her expert hands over his head, adjusting the bit and fastening the reins.

He took a deep breath, feeling how each piece of equipment transformed him even more into her mount. She then placed the saddle on his shoulders and adjusted the girths precisely, making sure it was secure. When she was done, she took the horse mask and, with a mischievous smile, she put it on him. “Now you are ready,” she said with satisfaction, caressing his cheek with the tips of her fingers. “Today we will ride far away.”

She climbed onto his shoulders with the same grace as always, settling her legs into the stirrups and holding the reins with natural skill. “Come on, good boy,” she ordered with a light pressure of her spurs. “Take me where I wish to go.”

And he, without hesitation, began to move, feeling the rocking of his rider on top of him, giving himself completely to her will.
They met the newlyweds.
“How was your wedding night?” asked the young rider with a mischievous smile.
“Excellent!” replied the wife enthusiastically.
“Did the husband stop being a virgin?” the rider insisted, raising an eyebrow mischievously.
“Definitely!” —said the wife, patting her husband on the back, who smiled nervously.
“And how many times did you do it?” —asked the rider, laughing.
The husband blushed and the wife, with a mischievous expression, replied:
“I lost count after the third…”
The husband looked away, trying to hide his smile.
“Look at you! He didn’t just lose his virginity, he lost count too!” —the rider joked, and everyone laughed.

The wife asked: “Why is your mount wearing a horse mask? What’s the meaning?”

The young rider smiled mischievously and replied: “The horse mask represents his role. Right now, he’s not a man, he’s my animal. By wearing it, he leaves his human identity behind and becomes my faithful steed, obedient and willing."

The newlywed husband looked at the masked horse in curiosity, while the wife laughed in amusement. "Interesting… So now he doesn't think, he just follows your commands," the wife commented with a mischievous smile.

"Exactly," the rider nodded. "And he does it with pleasure, don't you, my horse?"

The masked man neighed softly in response, bowing his head in submission.

The husband laughed and said, "Well, after my wedding night, I feel like I might as well wear a horse mask. My wife rode me mercilessly!"

The two women burst into laughter, while the husband sighed with a smile.

The young rider adjusted the reins of her masked mount and smiled. "Then I'll see you later." "Don't get into any mischief without me," he said playfully before gently pulling on the reins and heading towards the health facility.

The wife nodded with a smile. "I'll go too, I want to see how the patient I helped last night is doing. It was a busy night for everyone."

The husband sighed and stretched lazily. "I'll stay at the hotel… I think I need to get some more sleep. Not all of us have the stamina of you two."

The two women laughed, and the young rider commented, "That's what happens when you stop being a virgin… The first time is always exhausting!"

The wife blushed, but laughed, and the three of them said goodbye as each went their separate ways.

The Godfather and the Young Rider (7)

At dismissal time, she rode a teacher and then his masked horse to her house.

There she did her schoolwork, finishing early. Shyly the godfather asked, “Are you still studying at school?” She replied, “Yes, I didn’t miss a year and I’m studying with my peers, I’m an outstanding student and I’m at the top of the merit list,”

The godfather nodded in admiration. “I always knew you were exceptional,” he said with a slight smile.

She, sitting elegantly at her desk, turned her chair confidently and looked at him intently. “I am,” she replied proudly, “and that has allowed me to get everything I want.”

The godfather lowered his gaze for a moment, acknowledging her determination. Then, in a more relaxed tone, he asked, “And what will you do now that you finished your homework so early?”

She smiled sideways, spread her arms casually, and said, “Perhaps I’ll go out for a little ride… or perhaps I’ll decide to take a stroll through the village.”

The godfather gulped and asked cautiously, “Riding who?”

She laughed softly, stood up, and with a mischievous glint in her eyes, replied, “Whoever I choose.”

The godfather said, “Your spurs are striking.” She added, “They’re real, too, just like the whip. I use them carefully, not to hurt but to control.”

The godfather nodded, carefully observing the metallic shine of the spurs on her boots. “And I have no doubt that you succeed,” he commented with a smile.

She slightly lifted one boot, allowing him to better admire the detail of the spur. “My horses know to obey,” she added in a calm but firm tone. “Clear orders and discipline make everything work better.”

The groomsman gulped and nodded again. “I guess there are no difficult horses for you,” he said with a slight air of joking.

She smiled confidently. “No, just horses that haven’t learned who’s in charge yet.”

She said, “You’re docile, so I don’t use my spurs on you, or do you want to feel them?”

The groomsman, surprised by the question, smiled nervously. “No, no… I’m fine like this,” he replied with a shaky laugh.

She tilted her head, watching him with a playful gaze. “Are you sure? Some horses need to feel them at least once to understand their purpose,” she said as she made a slight turn with her boot, letting the shine of the spur catch his attention.

The groomsman gulped and looked away. “I’m a good horse,” he quickly assured.

She laughed amusedly. “I know, that’s why I don’t use them on you,” she said in a gentle tone, patting him on the shoulder. “But don’t forget that I always have them on.”

She sat gracefully crossed her legs, watching the godfather kneeling before her. With a playful smile, she slid one boot forward, offering the sole to his face. “If you were so taken with my spurs, you must admire my boots as well,” she said in a soft but firm voice.

He, still on his knees, bowed his head in respect and began to lick the soles and high heels of her boots with devotion, cleaning them with each pass of his tongue.

She watched him with satisfaction, enjoying the gesture. “Good boy,” she whispered in a mischievous tone, as she lightly rocked her boot against his tongue.

The Godfather and the Young Rider (9])

The godfather, kneeling before her, kept his gaze downcast as she prepared to ride him. She was dressed in impeccable riding attire: a fitted black jacket that flattered her slender figure, a high-collared white shirt buttoned to the base of her neck, and tight beige riding breeches that accentuated her long, shapely legs. A black leather belt with a silver buckle secured her waist, and on her feet were elegant high-top equestrian boots, made of shiny leather, with tight-fitting stirrups and silver spurs that jingled with every movement.

In her right hand, she gracefully holds a black riding whip with a braided leather handle and a light metal tip. With it, she does not seek to punish, but to direct with precision and firmness.

This carefully selected outfit makes her look majestic, imposing, and undoubtedly unforgettable.

The best man, kneeling before her, watched with respect and submission as she prepared her horse with the precision of a skilled rider.

With a firm but graceful movement, with a serene but dominant expression, she took the cold bit. “Open wide” she ordered in a calm but firm voice. He obeyed without resistance, she gently inserted the bit into her horse’s mouth, the animal feeling the touch of the metal on his tongue as she finished adjusting her control over him. She adjusted the straps of the bridle with skill, making sure everything was in place before placing the saddle on her animal. With deft hands, she cinched the saddle, adjusting it perfectly to her “horse”.

Then, with the same grace with which she always moved, she placed one foot in the stirrup and, with an agile push, mounted him. From her dominant position, she felt in absolute control of the situation. She inserted the reins into the bridle, taking them firmly and safely. “Very well,” she said with a mischievous grin as she gave him a light nod with the reins. “Let’s go for a ride.”

With a light touch of her spurs against his sides, she ushered him forward, enjoying the control she exerted. The breeze played with her hair, and the sound of her spurs echoed softly with each movement.

From her vantage point, she looked out at the world with the satisfaction of someone who knows she is exactly where she wants to be: in control, guiding her mount toward its destination.

The Godfather and the Young Rider (11)

That night, the young rider led her temporary horse to the ring in the wall where he had spent so many nights. With firm movements, she tied the reins securely, making sure he stayed in place.

Then, with grace and authority, she sat atop him, crossing her legs and letting the dim light illuminate the shine of her boots. She stared at him, a mixture of satisfaction and farewell in her eyes. “This is your last night here,” she whispered with a smile.

He watched her silently, understanding the meaning of her words. He had served well, but his time under her command was coming to an end.

She placed one hand on his chest and gently slid the other over his face. “Tomorrow, at dawn, everything will return to its natural order.”

The temporary horse nodded, accepting his fate. Meanwhile, she settled on top of him, making it clear that, until morning came, she still belonged to him.

She, still sitting on top of him, dropped her hand with apparent delicacy on his crotch. At first, her touch was soft, almost like a casual caress. But then, with a light, calculated pressure, she made him shudder.

He reacted to the pain immediately, tensing his body and letting out a restrained gasp. “Wow…” she murmured with a mischievous smile, leaning forward slightly. “You’re still very sensitive.”

His eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and dominance as he took a deep breath, trying to control his reaction. “Don’t worry,” he continued, tracing small circles with his fingertips. “This is your last night here, so you’ll remember well who was on top of you until the very end.”

His tone was soft but firm, making it clear that he was still in absolute control.

He, still breathing heavily, looked down at her from his position on the ground. He knew he had no real choice, but the playful tone of his voice gave her the illusion of a choice. “Whatever you wish…” he replied in a shaky voice.

She smiled in satisfaction and, without moving from her dominant position, crossed her legs elegantly. “Mmm… such a confident answer,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “But it’s not enough. I want you to ask me.”

He gulped, feeling the weight of her presence on him. “Please…” she whispered. “Ride me.”

Her smile widened. “That’s how I like it.” She settled more firmly on her mount. “So, get ready… this will be a night you won’t forget.”

She wore a spectacular riding outfit that enhanced her dominant and elegant presence. She wore a tight black riding jacket, cinched at her waist with gold buttons and sharp lapels, highlighting her majestic bearing.

Beneath the jacket, a white, high-necked blouse, impeccable and tight, added a touch of distinction. White riding breeches made of stretch fabric clung to her long, shapely legs, highlighting her slender and powerful figure.

On her feet, tall black leather riding boots, polished down to the smallest detail, with firm heels that resonated with each step and golden spurs that jingled with an imposing sound.

Completing her outfit, she wore an elegant black riding hat, tilted slightly to one side, and in her hands, black leather gloves, from which she firmly held the reins of her mount. In her other hand, a long, flexible whip, ready to guide with authority.

Every detail of her outfit conveyed power, control and grace, making everyone who saw her fascinated by her presence.

The Godfather and the Young Rider (13)

The young rider spotted a spectator, she gently pulled on the reins, guiding her mount towards the spectator. The girl, with a smile on her lips, immediately recognized the one under the saddle.

“Godfather, I am proud of you” she said with admiration, giving him a loving gesture of recognition.

Then, turning to the rider, she pointed curiously at the horse.

“Horses don’t wear clothes” the young rider replied calmly, caressing the reins and giving him a slight order with her legs so that her mount remained in place.

The goddaughter looked closely at the horse’s sides and back, her expression going from curiosity to a mixture of surprise and respect. Then, her gaze fell on the rider’s whip and spurs, noticing the red spots that marked their surface. “Those marks…?” she asked in a whisper, pointing with her finger.

The young rider smiled confidently, straightening up in the saddle and holding the reins firmly. “Horses must learn to obey,” she replied calmly. “And discipline is part of horsemanship.”

The goddaughter nodded slowly, understanding the authority the rider held over her mount.

The goddaughter said, “The whip and crop cut the skin while the spurs dig and tear the skin, causing wounds to open and bleed, which is why his skin is like this and your whip and spurs are stained with blood.”

The young rider looked at the goddaughter with a serene expression, unfazed by her words. She held the reins firmly while her mount remained motionless beneath her, breathing heavily. “That is so,” she replied in a confident voice. “But every horse must learn its place and respond to commands without hesitation.”

The goddaughter looked at her godfather, his sides and back marked by the rider’s punishments. Then she turned her gaze to the whip and spurs dyed red. “Don’t you think this is too much?” she asked with some concern.

The young rider slightly tilted her head and smiled confidently. “Discipline is necessary,” she said. “A well-trained horse is a horse that knows what its purpose is.”

The goddaughter did not answer immediately. She only nodded, understanding that the rider had no doubts about her authority.

The young rider said to the goddaughter: “You can also apply whip or whip and spurs.”

The goddaughter looked at the young rider with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. “Really?” she asked, observing the whip in the rider’s hand and the spurs shining on her boots.

The rider smiled confidently and nodded. “Of course. A rider must know how to impose his will. If you want your horse to obey you, you must show him who is in charge.”

The goddaughter looked at the godfather, who stood still being ridden by the young rider, breathing heavily. Then she looked down at the whip and, with a mixture of excitement and doubt, took it in both hands. “Try it,” encouraged the rider. “Don’t be afraid.”

The Godfather and the Young Rider (15)

The young rider placed a hand on the goddaughter's shoulder and smiled confidently. “Don't worry,” she said in a firm voice, “I'll teach you.”

She took the whip and turned it skillfully in her hand. Then, with elegance, she raised her foot and showed her shiny spurs. “The art of horsemanship requires technique and precision. It's not just about striking, but about control, about imposing your will with every movement.”

The goddaughter nodded, intrigued. The rider mounted again with ease, adjusted the reins and applied light pressure with her spurs to the sides of her horse, who reacted immediately. “Watch carefully. The key is in the combination of whip, reins and spurs. You must feel the rhythm of your mount, guide it safely and firmly.”

The goddaughter watched fascinated as her mentor showed her each gesture with precision. Soon, it would be her turn to try again.

The young rider winked at the goddaughter and took a firm hold of the reins. “I’ll teach you another day,” she said with a confident smile. “Now I’m going to ride your godfather to the end.”

She adjusted the whip in her hand, tightened the reins, and pressed down with her spurs. The human horse reacted immediately, ready to obey her every command.

The goddaughter watched in admiration as the rider elegantly led him forward, alternating between controlled steps and an imposing gallop. The rider’s skill was evident, precisely mastering every movement of her mount.

The goddaughter smiled. She knew it would soon be her turn to learn more, but for now, she reveled in watching the rider demonstrate her absolute mastery.

The young rider, firm and determined, led her horse to a steady trot before urging him into a more intense gallop. The sound of her spurs clicking against his sides mixed with the rumble of her gait.

The human horse was breathing hard, feeling his stamina drain away. His legs were shaking, his vision was beginning to blur, and the world around him was blurry. He saw white.

“Hold on, horse,” the rider commanded authoritatively. “We’re not done yet.”

She took a firmer grip on the reins and pressed with her spurs, demanding the last effort from her mount. He tried to respond, but his body was faltering.

The goddaughter, watching from the side, noticed his condition and asked, “Are you sure he can keep going?”

The young rider smiled confidently. “He will. He knows that a horse must go all the way.”

She drove him to the health facility, he galloped with all his might, a doctor was waiting, she stopped him in the emergency room, next to the doctor, she dismounted and he knelt down, prostrated himself and kissed her boots, she left while the doctor and the rest of the health personnel mobilized urgently, quickly carried him to a stretcher and tried to revive his horse.

The goddaughter, with her heart racing, looked at the scene with concern. “What if he doesn’t recover?” she asked with fear.

The young rider, with a serene and dominant expression, observed the scene without hesitation. “He will recover. He is strong and knows what his duty is.”

She paused and looked proudly at the emergency room. “I am proud of him, because he gave his last breath for me. That is what real horses do.

The goddaughter nodded slowly, understanding the lesson that the rider was teaching her.

The Recovery (1)

The fifty-something horse, now recovered and ready to be discharged, decided to visit the godfather before leaving the health facility. He had heard about the demanding session his Mistress had subjected him to the night before and wanted to see it with his own eyes.

Entering the room, he found the godfather still lying down, breathing heavily, with visible traces of the intense effort he had made to please his rider. His skin showed marks from the whip and spurs, proof of the young rider's absolute dominance. “She pushed you to the limit, didn't she?” the fifty-something horse commented with a slight smile.

The godfather nodded with effort, his voice barely a whisper. “But I did it… she was proud of me.”

The fifty-something horse patted him on the shoulder. “That's how it should be. We prepared to serve her. If she's pleased, it's all been worth it.”

They both shared a moment of silent camaraderie. They were horses of the same rider, and although the demands were extreme, the honor of being ridden by her was worth everything.

The fifty-year-old horse added: "I see that they put distilled water, serum, medicines and electrolytes into your bloodstream through an IV, and also blood, did you lose much?"

The godfather nodded with a sigh, still feeling the exhaustion in his body. "Yes... my blood stained her spurs and her whip. She herself showed me the marks it left on me."

The fifty-year-old horse looked at the bags connected to the IV and murmured in admiration: "—It means that you gave it your all. Not everyone can keep up with her pace."

The godfather closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the intensity of the previous night. "She pushed me to the limit, but I don't regret it. I would do it again if she ordered it."

The fifty-year-old horse smiled and patted him on the arm. “Rest, brother. When you recover, you will serve her again.”

Seeing him leave, the godfather asked the fifty-year-old horse: “You are leaving now,” the fifty-year-old answered: “Yes,” the godfather said: “Wait, I will ask that the IV be disconnected because our owner ordered me to take you home pushing your wheelchair, leave you installed, and return to return the wheelchair.”

The fifty-year-old horse looked at him with some surprise and concern. “Are you sure? You are just recovering.”

The godfather forced a smile, with determination still in his eyes. “Our owner gave me an order. No matter what happened yesterday, if she wants it, I will do it.”

The fifty-year-old horse nodded respectfully. “You are a real horse.”

The godfather called the nurse and, after a few minutes, the IV was removed. He stood up with effort, feeling his body still weak, but willing to comply with what his owner had asked him to do.

The fifty-year-old horse sat in the wheelchair and said to the godfather: "I'm not going to stop you from carrying out a command from our Mistress, if you feel bad, faint or have problems, just let me know because you lost water, electrolytes and blood, our Owner is a Master applying the reins, whip and spurs."

The godfather nodded with effort and took the handles of the wheelchair. "I know, our Mistress is impeccable in her mastery. I will not fail in my task."

He began to push the chair with determination, although his body still felt the exhaustion of the previous night. Each step was a reminder of the extreme effort he had been subjected to, but his loyalty to his owner kept him going.

The fifty-year-old horse, sitting in the chair, observed him with respect. "You are strong. If you ever want some advice on how to resist better, tell me. I have served our Mistress before and I know what it feels like when she demands everything from us.”

The godfather smiled slightly, without stopping walking. “Thank you, brother. But my only wish is to please her and be worthy of her orders.”

The effort was superhuman because there were several ups and downs on the way. They arrived at the young rider's house and the godfather left the fifty-year-old comfortably installed, who recommended: "Use the wheelchair as a walker and go directly to the health facility so they can continue applying the IV," the godfather thanked him.

The Recovery (3)

Upon arriving at the emergency room, the godson announced in a mocking tone: “We have come to return a little patient who ran away.”

The medical staff smiled at the comment, but quickly took action. They gently helped the godfather to lie down on the emergency stretcher. A nurse, with confident and experienced movements, prepared the IV equipment and sat on the godfather while installing the needle in his arm.

The liquid began to flow slowly through the catheter, entering his bloodstream. The nurse, without ceasing to sit on the patient, carefully watched the application, making sure that everything was in order.

The godson, observing the scene, crossed his arms and said in a determined tone: “I want to be given an IV too.”

His wife, the goddaughter, looked at him with surprise and some amusement, wondering if he was serious or if he simply wanted to share the experience with her godfather.

The nurse, turning her torso and head, looked directly at the godson and asked, “Do you want me to give you the IV or sit on top of you?”

The godson, surprised by the nurse’s question, blinked a couple of times before answering with a nervous smile, “Uh… well… the IV, of course.”

The nurse raised an eyebrow with an amused smile and replied, “Okay, but if you get too restless, I won’t hesitate to sit on you to keep you still.”

The goddaughter, who had been watching the scene with her arms crossed, laughed and said, “Don’t worry, nurse, I’ll keep you in place myself if necessary.”

The godson shrugged in resignation and sat down on another stretcher while the nurse began preparing the equipment for him.

The nurse laughed, "How do you expect me to give you an IV if you don't have a prescription and you don't have the medicines? What you want is for me to sit on top of you; but, you have your wife who can do it."

The godson laughed nervously and looked at his wife, who gave him a look that was somewhere between amused and challenging. "Well, love... what do you say?" he asked, smiling.

The goddaughter crossed her arms and replied mischievously, "If that's what you really want, I can oblige."

The nurse, laughing, looked at them curiously. “It seems that they have their own methods of treatment,” she commented, winking at the goddaughter before returning to her work.

The godson sighed, accepting his fate, while his wife approached with a triumphant smile.

The godson, lying on his back and looking at the sky, the goddaughter, with a mischievous smile, settled herself on her husband’s torso, crossing her legs with a queenly air. “Here is your ‘special treatment’,” she said, laughing.

The godson sighed, feigning resignation. “This town definitely has its own ways of medicine.”

The nurse, seeing the scene, smiled and commented: “Well, it seems that you will be well taken care of. Now, if you will excuse me, I have real patients to take care of.”

The goddaughter, amused, gently patted her husband on the chest. “—Come on, love, enjoy your ‘venoclysis’.”

And he just closed his eyes, thinking that, after all, being under his wife was not a bad fate.

The gazes of the goddaughter and the godfather met, she sitting on top of her husband, her legs on one side of the bed, she with a captivating pose with her legs crossed, he said: "Your husband is lucky because you are on top of him." She replied: "I can be on top of you whenever I want."

The godfather sketched a tired but intrigued smile. “I don't doubt that you can do it whenever you want” he replied, keeping his gaze fixed on the goddaughter.

She, with an expression of confidence and flirtatiousness, slowly uncrossed her legs and then crossed them again, as if showing that she had absolute control of the situation. “The important thing” she added, leaning slightly forward “is that you understand it too.”

The godson, under his wife, watched the scene with an amused smile. “Well, godfather, things work like this here. She decides.”

The nurse, who was standing nearby, just shook her head with a smile before continuing with her work.

The Recovery (5)

After repeatedly kissing her feet, the doctor finally spoke, his voice a little lower: “Please… grant me permission to attend to the patient.”

The goddaughter held the suspense for a few more seconds and then, with a slight nod, gave her approval. “Okay, doctor. You can examine him. But remember who is in charge here.”

The doctor, without saying another word, stood up and began the examination, while the feeling that the goddaughter was in absolute control still lingered in the room.

The doctor knelt before her and said while kissing her feet: “Please get up from the patient so I can examine him.” She replied: “I will, but I will sit on your shoulders to see how you attend to your patients.”

The doctor, with his lips kissing the goddaughter's feet, nodded reverently. “Of course, my lady. As you wish.”

The nurse watched the scene with a mixture of wonder and fascination, while the godson smiled proudly, knowing his wife's character well.

The goddaughter slowly rose from the godfather, making her absence felt with a slight sigh from him. Then, with natural elegance, she approached the doctor and, without wasting any time, climbed up and settled on his shoulders, riding gracefully while he held her firmly. “Now, doctor, you can attend to your patient,” she said in a playful tone. “But I want to see you do it from above.”

The doctor, on his knees, began to examine the godfather with careful movements, feeling the weight and authority of the goddaughter on him. The nurse, with an amused smile, murmured to herself: “This emergency room definitely never ceases to amaze me.”

The doctor reported: "She will still be under evaluation, she will possibly be discharged tomorrow, we must heal and care for the whip cuts and the puncture wounds from the spurs. Now I will evaluate other patients."

The goddaughter said: "Come on, little doctor, I will continue riding you while you check the other patients," the doctor nodded. As she left the room, the goddaughter turned her torso and, waving her right hand, said goodbye to her husband and godfather.

The godson and godfather watched as the goddaughter rode away, riding elegantly on the doctor's shoulders. Her radiant smile and her right-hand farewell gesture left a trail of charm in the room.

The godson sighed with pride as he watched his wife take control of the situation naturally. "Definitely, my love was born to be above others" he murmured with admiration.

The godfather, still lying in the emergency bed, smiled with some resignation. “Your wife is a true Amazon,” he said thoughtfully. “She has the spirit of an indomitable rider.”

The nurse, who had been watching in silence, let out an amused giggle. “More than an Amazon, I would say she is a queen… and the others are her horses.”

Meanwhile, in the hospital corridors, the goddaughter continued her tour, swinging confidently on the doctor’s shoulders. “Doctor, tell me, how many more patients should we attend to?” she asked in a playful tone.

“A few more, ma’am,” he replied respectfully.

“Then let’s continue,” she commanded, lightly tapping him on the head with her fingertips. “I am enjoying this ride.”

The patients and hospital staff watched the scene in amazement and admiration, while the doctor continued his work, being ridden by the goddaughter with absolute devotion.

The godfather and godson remained in the room, listening attentively to the conversations that echoed in the hallways. The goddaughter's voice, full of joy and authority, effortlessly imposed itself over the doctor's submissive and obedient tone.

“Doctor, do you get tired so quickly?” the goddaughter was heard saying with a slight mocking laugh.

“No, ma'am... I can keep riding you,” the doctor replied humbly.

“I hope so, because there are still patients to attend to and I have a privileged view from up here,” she added, amused.

The godson smiled, knowing well this dominant side of his wife. “It seems that my love really enjoys being on top of others,” he commented proudly.

The godfather, with a slight smile, nodded. “It's her nature... There is no one who can resist her charm.”

The goddaughter's laughter continued to fill the air, and every so often, a lower, more respectful tone from the doctor indicated that he was still following her orders.

“Doctor, move your neck, so I can feel the rhythm of your steps better,” she ordered naturally.

“Yes, ma'am…” the doctor was heard to reply.

The godson and the godfather exchanged a glance.

“There's no doubt about it,” said the godfather, “she was born to reign.”

“And the rest of us were born to serve her,” added the godson with a smile.

The Recovery (7)

She leaned in a little closer, staring at him. “Tell me, little doctor… if I order you something right now, will you do it without hesitation?”

The doctor nodded quickly. “Yes, Mistress.”

She laughed in amusement and, in a playful but dominant tone, said, “Then, prove your obedience… start by kissing my boots.”

The doctor, without hesitation, bowed his head and began kissing his owner’s boots, while she watched him with an expression of absolute complacency.

She said, “Now the soles and heels of my boots, you know.”

The doctor, with absolute submission, bowed his head even further and pressed his lips against the soles of the goddaughter’s boots, leaving reverent kisses in every corner. Then, with devotion, he ran his mouth over the heels, making sure to perfectly fulfill his owner’s command.

She watched him with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction, lightly moving her foot to guide him. “Very well, little doctor,” she said in a playful tone. “You are proving that your training has been adequate… but there is still much to polish.”

The doctor looked up at her, waiting for his next order. She smiled with absolute power. “Now, let us continue with your lesson in obedience.”

She showed the soles and heels of her boots and said: “lick.”

The doctor, without hesitation, lowered his head even further and stuck out his tongue, beginning to lick with devotion the soles and heels of the goddaughter's boots. With each pass of his tongue, she smiled with satisfaction, enjoying the absolute control she had over him.

“That's how I like it,” she said, crossing her arms and observing him with superiority. “Keep going, you're not done yet.”

The sound of his tongue running over the leather resonated in the room, as the doctor demonstrated his complete submission. She shifted her foot slightly, tilting her boot to ensure every nook and cranny was attended to. “I hope this lesson serves you well, little doctor,” she added in a playful but firm tone. “If you keep this up, I might reward you… or maybe I’ll demand more from you.”

The doctor nodded without looking up, knowing that his only response should be obedience.

She said, “I know that the men of the village have a bit, bridle, saddle, even a whip and spurs, for a female rider to bridle, saddle, ride and lead using reins, whip and spurs. Show them to me.”

The doctor, still on his knees, nodded submissively and slowly stood up. With hurried steps, he walked to a cupboard inside the room and opened it, revealing a neatly organized collection of bits, bridles, saddles, whips and spurs. “Here they are, Mistress,” he said in a shaky voice, pointing at the items with a mix of respect and anticipation. “They are of different sizes and materials… depending on the rider’s preferences.”

She approached with a satisfied smile, looking at each piece carefully. She took a bridle with a metal bit and held it in her hands, then slid her fingers along the black leather whip before turning to the doctor.

“I like what I see,” she said in a commanding tone. “But I want a demonstration… right now.”

The doctor gulped and lowered his head, understanding what she was asking for.

She, with an expectant smile, took the bridle and bit in her hands, then stared at the doctor and put the bridle on him, putting the bit in his mouth, adjusting the bridle around his head.

She tested the firmness of the whip, gently tapping the palm of her hand against the supple leather.

“Good,” she said, satisfied. “Now get into position so I can saddle you.”

The doctor obeyed without question, lowering himself to the ground and getting on all fours, just as the men of the village do when they are ridden. She took a light saddle from the cupboard and placed it on his back, adjusting the straps precisely. Then, she climbed onto his back, hooked the reins and slid her boots into the stirrups.

“Let’s see how good a horse you are,” she whispered, leaning forward slightly as she gave him a command with the reins.

The doctor slowly moved forward on all fours, feeling the firm pressure of the goddaughter’s legs holding him in control. She smiled, satisfied with the demonstration, and used the reins, whip and spurs to better direct him.

“Not bad… but you still have a lot to learn,” she said with amusement as she led him around the room.