Ultimate shoulder rides

Chapter 3.
Marina and I were never going to take a walk in the woods, not the next day, not the next day, not even two days later. She was always preoccupied, preoccupied, and once she even went to the city for something and brought back a bulky bag of some things. I would go into her aunt's yard and ask her to go to the river or just go for a walk, but she always refused, referring to some difficult and very urgent work, the meaning of which she was in no hurry to tell me.  Only once did I ask if I knew how to handle a professional digital camera and if I would be free in a couple of days somewhere after 17-18 o'clock in the evening. To this I replied that I could handle the camera, and I didn't have any special plans for the evening.
"Well, that's fine," Marina said. –I'll drop by and let you know when and where you need to go."
The next few days flowed according to the already established routine – exercise, a hearty breakfast, before lunch working in the garden or in the yard, and after lunch I was left to myself: reading, sunbathing on the beach, swimming or sitting with a fishing rod on the shore. Remembering Marina's words, he began to do strength exercises 2-3 times a day, for which he dragged a hefty piece of iron that had once belonged to a bulldozer or crawler tractor abandoned on the outskirts of the village and made a kind of barbell out of it. I carried this barbell with perseverance and enthusiasm, feeling the muscles of my arms, chest, back and abdominal press grow stronger literally before my eyes.
A couple of days after the events described, Marina came into our yard and, calling me, with the air of a conspirator, said:
"Come to the abandoned farm tomorrow. Do you know where it is? And after I nodded my head in the affirmative, she continued. – You don't have to take anything with you. I'll need your help shooting a series of short music videos.
"What's going to happen?"  And why go so far? –I tried to get some information out of Marina. But she only laughed it off and, after giving me a quick peck on the cheek and pleading her busy schedule, ran off to her yard.
"Don't be late and don't tell anyone," Marina warned me as she closed the gate from the street.
On the chosen day, an hour before the meeting with Marina, I pulled out my old bicycle, which had been gathering dust there since last summer, wiped it, oiled it, and changed into a new T-shirt and shorts, jumped on the bike's saddle, which creaked plaintively, and sprayed towards the abandoned cowshed, which was reached by the dirt road that had already begun to grow overgrown with grass it was about two kilometers away.
The cowshed was a large, once-whitewashed building of reinforced concrete columns, trusses, and wall panels that had once housed a collective farm herd. But over the past 20 years since the collapse of the collective farm, the building has fallen into complete disrepair and local residents have taken it literally to pieces. Only the walls and roof were left, and there were no windows, doors, or interior fillings. Swifts and swallows flew in through the gaps in the walls, where windows and huge gates should have been, and a light summer breeze blew in. To my surprise, the long-abandoned room was quite clean, with long-rotted straw lying on the concrete floor, and here and there, under the wall, wooden blocks, already blackened by time, stood and lay in disarray.
When I entered the cowshed, I saw no one and thought I had arrived too early. But a second later I heard the sound of approaching footsteps and Marina came out of the former room behind the farm and headed in my direction. She was dressed in a strange way that immediately caught my eye – she was wearing a short dressing gown and black knee-high boots with high heels. Her dark brown hair was loose and neatly coiffed. My friend's appearance was completed with a full
evening makeup look. She was extremely attractive, despite her shabby dressing gown and the bleak surroundings of the long-abandoned building.
After saying hello, Marina handed me an expensive professional camera, showing me how to use it when shooting video clips and photos. It turned out to be quite simple and didn't present any problems.
"And now I want to ask you something," Marina continued. – You'll sit here under the wall, make yourself comfortable, " and she pointed to the old logs under the wall.
-To avoid holding the camera up, you can pick up one of the logs and build yourself a kind of stand and rest your elbows on it.
"And most importantly – what you see must remain our secret. Nothing supernatural is going to happen, but I'm still asking you to keep quiet.
Somewhat taken aback by this introduction, I finally overcame my indecision and excitement and agreed to do whatever the girl asked me to do.
-You will shoot short clips of 5-7 minutes duration. There is a timer at the bottom of the display that counts down the shooting time. In between clips, you will take photos. Try to hold the camera so that everything that happens is in the center of the frame. Here there is a zoom, you can zoom in or slightly remove the object you are shooting from yourself. In short, I'm relying on you as the operator. If you have any problems – don't hesitate to ask.
After listening to all this, I nodded my head in agreement and began to ask Marina what I was going to shoot. She hesitated a little, but answered me anyway.
-You will shoot a few clips on the theme of dominance. Such an opportunity to shoot such clips may never come again, and so I took the risk to organize this shooting. You're the only friend I have in the village. Besides, I can see you're a reliable guy.
I knew what dominance was because I had come across sites with similar content on the Internet more than once. I looked with interest at photos and videos from these sites, but in itself, all this did not attract me at all.
While I was thinking about all this, sitting down on a log placed on my butt and adjusting the camera, Marina returned behind the partition and was gone for quite a long time. There was a scuffle behind the wall, the rustle of clothing, the sound of zippers being fastened and buckles snapping.
But what I saw a minute later gave me a real shock and exceeded all my expectations. Marina came out from behind the partition, or rather I realized that it was Marina, but she had changed so much thanks to her outfit that she was almost unrecognizable. She was wearing a short black leather skirt with a small pleat with inserts of some black fabric that accentuated the line of her hips, a black leather corset with rhinestones and embroidery that supported her high breasts. He was still wearing the same high boots. So that was what she was wearing under her simple rustic dressing gown!!! Ah yes Marina!!!
Behind Marina, two steps behind, was a short, stocky man dressed in short leather shorts that hugged his strong thighs and buttocks tightly and black sneakers on bare feet. His powerful torso and broad shoulders were bound by wide leather belts with large buckles that glittered in the light.
The man was almost a head shorter than the tall Marina, but incredibly broad in the shoulders, which made his figure almost square. His biceps were well-muscled and rolled under his tanned skin, and the wide straps accentuated the man's powerful musculature even more. I couldn't see his face or tell his age because he was wearing a black leather helmet with slits for his ears, eyes, nose, and mouth.
His approximate age was difficult to determine, and the man looked to be between 30 and 40 years old. But what struck me most about the man was two things: he had a real horse's bridle on top of his helmet, and in his mouth he rolled the bit holder with his tongue. Marina led him with the help of long reins attached to the bridle on the man's head. There was something vaguely familiar about the stranger's strange appearance, but I didn't have time to think it through as Marina stopped in front of me and said:
"You'll be filming everything we're going to do right now. I'll tell you what to do and how to shoot and what to shoot.
"How do you like my job?" "What is it?" she asked contentedly, pointing to the bridle with a black patent-leather glove. - Two days I made it myself!!!
Startled by what I saw, I just nodded my head in silence, starting to vaguely guess what was going to happen now and what I was going to shoot on camera.
Meanwhile, Marina approached the man and pulled him down by the rein. He obediently knelt down and then got down on all fours. Marina slowly walked around him, giving him the opportunity to film everything that was happening in great detail. The girl then walked up to the man from behind and stood over him, placing her legs on either side of his body. Slowly, with a little play of her beautiful hips, she lowered herself exactly in the middle of her back.
The weight of the rider on top of him made the man bend a little, but he didn't move. Marina tucked her legs a little so that they didn't touch the floor, took the
reins apart, pulled them on, and the man obediently crawled forward. He obeyed the slightest movement of the reins and, under the guidance of his rider, made a full circle on the floor.
From time to time, the rider slapped him on the back and on the tight ass of his shorts, which had come out of nowhere with a whip. I continued to shoot, standing up from the log and occasionally approaching them, then taking a few steps back. Marina stopped her horse right in front of me and sat on its back, moving forward and placing her feet on its shoulders on either side of its head. The man was holding his rider confidently, and it seemed that he almost did not feel her weight. After posing on the horse's back for a while, Marina easily got to her feet and said:
- One episode was removed. Now we'll take a little break and continue shooting.
With that, she pulled the reins up, forcing the man to his feet. Then, letting go of the reins, she said:
"B-but! Went.
The man, meekly obeying the commands of the hostess, went around in a circle, raising his legs high at the knees.
"Good! Bravo!  Marina encouraged him.
Then, she took out an apple and a small folding knife from a small purse on her belt and carefully cut the apple into 4 slices.
She brought one piece to the man's mouth, after removing the mouthpiece from his mouth. He crunched a delicious apple, whinnied merrily, and shook his head.
- Well, definitely a horse-a crazy thought flashed through my head.
After feeding her horse, Marina put the mouthpiece back in its mouth, tightened the bridle straps, checked the straps on its chest and shoulders, and turned to me.
-Now there will be another episode. You shoot everything from the very beginning, in all the details, and try not to miss anything.
But I already tried my best, and while she was feeding the horse an apple, I managed to take a dozen photos from different angles.
Marina approached the man and said something to him in a low voice. He silently nodded his head, walked around Marina from behind, slightly bent his knees and put his arm around her mid-thighs, put his shoulder under her gorgeous ass and easily, as if playfully, sat her down on his right shoulder. Stepping carefully through the rotting straw, he made a circle with the girl sitting on his shoulder. She sat comfortably on the man's broad shoulder and put her hands on her hips, taking a picture pose, showing off all the charms of the figure.
The man stopped in the middle of the room right in front of my lens, waiting for further commands from the rider. But all she did was cross her legs and order him to slowly turn around, giving me a chance to take in all the glory from all sides. The sight was really beautiful and very erotic: what could be more beautiful than a beautiful girl sitting proudly on the shoulder of a muscular, broad-shouldered man!!!
Obeying a subtle sign from the rider, the man crouched down and gently lowered her to the floor. The man's strapped chest glistened wetly with sweat, apparently holding a large girl on one shoulder for so long was hard even for him.
Marina patted him on the chest, ran her hand over his shoulder and said to me:
-
Need a break. My horse's getting a little tired." You see how strong he is-he rode me for 15 minutes and almost didn't get tired. Look at your shoulders, " and she ran her hand admiringly over the man's shoulders.
"He can put a girl like me on each shoulder and carry us a couple hundred meters." I'll have to try it sometime.
"Are you going to ride two riders at once?""What is it?" she asked him.
In response to this, the man nodded his head in agreement, the locks and chains on his body jingling merrily as he did so.
– Well, let's take a little more pictures, otherwise the sun will set already and there will not be very good lighting-said Marina.
I turned on the camera again and watched with all my eyes. Marina touched the man's shoulder and signaled him to squat down. He got down on one knee and bent his bull neck, allowing the girl to sit on his shoulders. Marina settled herself comfortably on the man's shoulders, shifted back and forth, and took the reins apart, whipping him with the whip. The man got up easily and holding the rider's legs below the knees made one circle with her, then a second, then turned around and slowly went around in a circle in the opposite direction. That was exactly what I needed – I shot everything on camera and tried not to miss anything that was happening.
Marina sat loosely on the man's shoulders, occasionally moving closer to the neck of her horse, then slightly moving back and shifting her weight to the right shoulder, then to the left. She then put her legs behind the lower one's back, then on the contrary straightened them, sitting literally on the man's neck. He endured all this without the slightest strain and, apparently, he liked it very much himself. After riding her horse for 10-15 minutes in the cowshed at a walk, she gave him shankels, and the man started to trot to the gate. When he reached the gate, he turned and trotted off to the opposite end of the barn. The rider was flushed from the ride, laughing merrily as she tugged at the reins and spurred her horse forward.
When she had finished riding, Marina stopped her horse and, after a moment's thought, began to fumble with the zipper of her skirt. A moment later, she threw it off, leaving her in a tight leather thong and corset. She didn't think to get off her ponyboy, who was panting after such a run. After giving him a few minutes to catch his breath, Marina let him walk towards the gate and shouted to me:
"We'll take the road, because it's getting a little dark and stuffy." Go to the side of us, go forward, or stand back a little to take pictures of us from all sides and angles.
I did just that, taking pictures of Marina on horseback, sometimes getting close up to shoot close-ups. I especially liked to shoot this pair from behind, I liked to watch Marina sitting a little relaxed on the shoulders of her horse, and just enjoying this trip. She swayed to the rhythm of the pony's steady stride and looked around, humming and swinging her whip. From time to time, she would show me which side to approach from, so that the angle would be better. A couple of times she stopped her horse, giving me a chance to walk around them and take good photos.
After riding for a couple of hundred meters, Marina turned her horse around and headed it towards the cowshed. The horse under her was already very tired, because she had not dismounted from his shoulders for at least half an hour, and was breathing heavily. But Marina ignored him and spurred him on, forcing him to take a quick step, almost a trot. He broke into a trot, but after a dozen meters he was walking again. This angered Marina, and she hit him a couple of times quite noticeably on the back with a whip, leaving a red mark on his skin. Gathering his strength, the man walked the rest of the way at a brisk pace, but this did not satisfy Marina. As she rode him into the cowshed, she reined him in sharply, yanking on the bridle so hard that he gasped.
"Put me down."
The horse dropped to one knee and carefully held its rider, helping her off. Marina pulled hard on the reins, forcing him to crawl across the floor on all fours after her. Then she went over to him and pressed the sole of her boot hard on his back, forcing him to lie down on the floor. She didn't remove her foot from his back, but instead stepped on him with her other foot. After standing on the horse's back for a few seconds, she turned to me and said:
- Shoot this episode as well. If you think he's hurting, he's not. He even likes it.
To prove her point, she ran her hands down the man's back, leaving red heel marks on his skin. He didn't even make a sound, but only grunted contentedly when she put one foot on his head and pressed the other between his shoulder blades, putting her weight on it.
Marina announced with a mock bow and carefully shifted her weight onto the man's head, standing on it with both feet. She stood there for about a second, but it was long enough to capture the risky stunt on video. I tried to understand from the man's reaction how he had endured such torture, but he was lying under Marina, who was standing on top of him, as if nothing had happened. After walking through it again, she jumped down and announced in a satisfied voice.
"Well, that's enough for today.
Coming up to me, she skimmed through the footage, admired a few photos, and said with satisfaction:
"Wow! Almost 8 hectares turned out. Even if you compress the video and edit it a little – you still get long clips. This one here, with a ride on horseback for half an hour, is worth it! The fans will go crazy with this.
She took the camera from me, gave me a peck on one cheek and then the other, and told me to get out of the barn and not tell anyone.
"Now I owe you one," Marina added, laughing.
With that, we said our goodbyes, and I jumped on my bike and sped off in the direction of the village. All the way home, I tried to determine who was the submissive horse under the Marina and endured such torment, and even enjoyed it. I couldn't figure out who the stranger was, so I assumed it was one of Marina's city acquaintances.
A couple of days after the events described, our Petrovich caught my eye on the beach. When he undressed and waded into the water, I noticed the clear marks on his muscular back and the bruises and chafed skin on his shoulders, as if he had been carrying heavy bags for a long time. I wondered if it had been him in the cowshed a couple of days ago. But, of course, I didn't ask him about anything like that, remembering the agreement with Marina.

Thank you very much.

I enjoy your story about the young rider riding the younger horse and the old horse