Ultimate shoulder rides

Quite a few years ago, when I was working in a boring office job, I had a young girl Claire - about 17 or 18 years old working for me, as an assistant.  I did not actually hire her, this was done by my manager who did not bother to check with me.

She was very quiet and inexperienced and it turned out that she really only wanted a job to pay the bills and support her passion for...horses, and training them.  She was not very good at the job that I needed her to do, and I can remember saying to her that she lacked enthusiasm and drive, and had no commitment to the work.  "You're only interested in your horses" I can recall using those words quite clearly.

She was almost in tears. I was not really mean, or anything, and lacked the guts to say "Sorry, you're not good enough, I am going to have to fire you" so I recruited someone else, a girl called Amanda, and gradually shifted the work to the new hire.

I used to take Amanda to lunch at the pub quite frequently, and we would joke about "that horsey girl" who was "way too timid". "She needs something powerful between her thighs" I would say, with a lustful wink to Amanda.

Claire, The Horsey Girl just left a couple of months later, having got the message, I guess. She never even said goodbye to me.

Anyway....many years later, I had lost my job, and via a networking website, out of the blue, I get a contact from Claire, offering me an interview for a job.  She says that it needs someone of my drive and commitment.

I think carefully, very surprised that she would offer me anything after her bad experience of working for me.  But I do really need the work.  So I say "Yes, let's have the interview".  She sends me an address, and a few days later I am ringing the bell at the gates of ....an  Equestrian centre.

After a couple of minutes wait this vision from any equestrian fantasist's dream walks confidently from the stable block to the gate.  Dressed in tight black riding britches, white blouse, her hair up in a rather severe ponytail.  Black leather gloves.  Very shiny black riding boots just over the knee.  A pair of spurs glisten in the light.

I have to stare in amazement, as it is Claire.

I hardly recognise the her.  The girl has grown up.  And my adrenaline has just gone sky high.

Opening the gate, she offers me her gloved hand, in a way that almost seems to suggest that I should kiss it, rather than shake it.  Heart pounding, I just about manage to shake it.

"So glad you could come" she says with a coquettish, exaggerated tilt of the head.  She speaks with an air of self-confidence that just did not exist the last time I saw her.

Closing the gate, she gestures towards the stable block and says "We have a little interview set up for you.  It should not be a problem for someone with your talent...commitment....I am sure it will be a walk-over.."

She turns away from me and strides ahead towards the building.  No hint of walking with me. I follow her into the stable block, sneaking the opportunity to admire her very fine form.  Slim hips, shapely and firm buttocks, no doubt from many hours in the saddle. She has an easy flow to her walk.

She points to a door.

"Just pop down the steps, you will find a door at the bottom.  Everything for the interview is there.  Make yourself comfortable and I will be with you in a few minutes, I just have to make a quick phone call..." she smiles.  The smile has an almost perceptible coldness to it and the slight raising of her eyebrows sends a little pulse of energy into me.

"And don't worry, you will quickly get into everything and it will be a walk in the park..."

I descend the stairs, lots of steps, much deeper than I expected and find a heavy wooden door at the foot of them, closed.

Opening it, I step through into a large dark room.

It is very dark, the only light coming through a ventilation shaft in the centre of the room.  The atmosphere is very warm, humid, sultry.

There are no windows.

In the middle of the room I can just make out, in the dimness, some sort of large contraption.

I recognise it...I have fantasised about these things many times in the past.

It is a pony-walker, four long, horizontal metal arms, spaced at 90 degrees, centred around amd attached to a vertical pole with some mechanism at its base.

I walk over towards it.  Already the warmth and humidity are causing me to sweat.  And my nerves jangle.

I can see much more now.

Suspended from the end of one of the extended arms, there is a wooden yoke, at the centre of which hangs a leather hood, at each end of the yoke there are leather bondage mitts.

My mind is going into overdrive now.

The hood is not for an equine horse or pony. It is a human bondage hood.

My heart is pounding.

My mind is racing.

I know why I am here.

This is what I have been dreaming about, for countless years.

This is it - I can still walk out if I want to.

But I don't want to.

I need this.

Hesitantly at first, I start to remove my jacket, my shirt.  Then I fumble more urgently.  Shoes, socks, trousers and underpants are torn off.  All thrown over to the corner of the room, in the darkness.

I hear the sound of heels coming down the steps outside.

I know who is coming.

I push my head inside the leather hood.  It smells, of leather, and sweat.. There are 2 small holes, restricted openings for my eyes, and 2 even smaller holes for my nostrils, and a mouth opening. With my head in position, I reach out to the ends of the yoke and put my hands through the cuffs, into the mitts and wait.

I stand there naked, sweat beginning to run down between my shoulder blades.

My back faces the door through which I had entered, as a normal human, only minutes ago.

The door opens and I feel a brief breath of cool fresh air upon my flesh, and the sound of the heels on the stone floor gets closer.

My flesh is tingling all over my body.

Unseen hands fasten the wrist cuffs tight.  The hood's lacing, at the back of my head, is pulled hard, making the material creak as it tightens its grip around my skull.

I see nothing, but feel and taste metal as it is placed across my mouth....a horse bit.

The hood creaks again as more straps are tightened around my head, forcing the bit deep into my mouth, cutting my lips.

I feel leather straps wrapping around my chest, over my shoulders, also tightened and buckled into place.

Cold steel swings down from the harness, tapping into the flesh of my chest.

Stirrups.

Within the hood, I can hear my pulse beating fast in my constricted ears. The stench of sweaty leather is becoming overwhelming.

And then a pause.

The heels walk around me.  Once. Twice.  Then they move away....and return.

I feel a hand on the back of my head.

It pushes my head down and forward, making the chains that attach the hood to the walker clank chillingly.

"Now.....let's see about your commitment, shall we?  Your stamina.....your drive"

The harness around my chest and shoulders suddenly cuts in as it twists with the weight of someone mounting me, using the stirrups.

Thighs wrap around my neck as my rider positions Herself, inserting the other booted foot into the opposite stirrup.

The harness creaks again, and I feel those spurs that I had seen glinting in the sun when I first arrived.

The pointed rowels slowly press into the flesh of my chest.

I shiver with fear and anticipation.

I hear a sickening, frightening swish, swish, swish and feel the rush of air next to my flanks as a whip flashes up and down.

My male organ twitches, erect, its dancing aching message of stimulation so clear for anyone who looks.

"And I have the perfect thing for your enthusiasm...."

She pauses.

I hear more footsteps, entering the room behind me.

Another voice, female.


A whip pushes the tip of my erect male organ down, forcing it uncomfortably low, then releases it, allowing it to bounce up and down momentarily.

"I said he wanted it, didn't I?"

"I said he would do it, didn't I?"

"You did, Amanda, you did.  You read him absolutely right"

"Now you...walk on....!!"

The spurs stab into my chest, taking my breath away with their vicious message of control.

The sickening swish of the whip cuts the sultry air, multiple times.

Each time my buttocks burn with fire as the whip lays stripes over my flesh.

I start my work, leaning forward, straining to turn the mechanism.

Her thighs tighten their grip around my neck.

Her sex pushes repeatedly against the back of my hooded head.

"Come on!  Show some bloody commitment you lazy bastard!"

I am where I belong...at last.