The Countess Veronica smiled as she discussed with the stable lads the first presentation of Cheryl to a selected group of friends from Athens. She's well trained now, and knows that any lack of cooperation will mean a long hard gallop with a sting of the whip on her lovely hindquarters. So I'll bit and bridle her for my friends' entertainment.
The Countess served a luxurious luncheon to a select party of rich connoiseurs of human mares and their possibilities, then they all strolled down to the stables.
Cheryl knew something out of the ordinary training was afoot, because she had been groomed and polished all over till her skin shone, and was standing in her stall, tightly harnessed and saddled so that the whole upper part of her luscious body was perfectly bondaged. She could toss her head and play around with the bit in her mouth, and with pinioned arms her full breasts swung free and out of her control, while the loins, naked and polished quivered in anticipation. The long artificial eyelashes rested on her powdered cheeks, and her lips were painted bright scarlet as they slavered on the bit. Cheryl had resented depilation, the removal of even a trace of pubic hair so that her soft V was fully exposed below the tight girth which held in her belly and supported the beautifully leathered saddle firmly in the small of the back.
The guests waited outside while the Countess picked up the reins and led the lovely mare out for inspection. Cheryl walked perfectly, well trained and rhythmically, undulating buttocks under the saddle. Despite her training she felt herself blushing as she came under the admiring scrutiny of the connoisseurs.
It was humiliating to feel herself examined almost impersonally in her magnificent nudity, so tightly harnessed that she could not move above the waist, while the guest gently patted the smooth rump and some of the ladies appreciatively ran their hands over the thighs and quivering breasts. "She's too delightful for riding at present," explained the Countess, "but, I'm considering various stallions for her, and after she has foaled I'll consult the vet about milking her."
Cheryl's cheeks burned with embarrassment. Well trained a mare as she was, she still could not accustom herself to being loosed into the paddock naked to run with two or three lusty stallions. They were pinioned firmly by the arms, and could only chase her around and try to capture her hindquarters, as the stable lads would not permit mating without the Countess's permission.
The stable lad held her firmly by the bridle while the Countess put her foot in a stirrup and swung herself easily into the saddle. At first Cheryl found her owner too heavy, but she reacted immediately to the pressure of her rider's thighs on her waist and the twitch of the reins on the bit, and the command, "At the trot, Go."
The Countess held her firmly and the guests admired her complete control as she swished the whip across the buttocks and trotted Cheryl off across the paddock. Cheryl felt almost affection for her owner as she responded instantly to the riding aids, relaxing all will power and independence, trotting and then cantering smoothly exactly as the Countess controlled her. She was a magnificent sight for the guests, the full buttocks undulating, the breasts tossing as if already milkful, and the bridle jingling as the rider pulled the reins and put her through every sort of trained maneuver of dressage.
The Countess rode the mare up to a post in the paddock and lithely dismounting, tethered her lightly where she stood proud and yet docile. Asking the Countess's permission, one of the lady guests took a heavy breast and ran her tongue round the nipple. "May I suck her, just to feel what milking her would be like?"
"Certainly," said the Countess, "they are lovely udders, and although most of the milking here is done by machine, when Cheryl is ready for milking, I think I will hand milk her myself. I don't much care for sucking direct from the udder with my mares."
Cheryl, helpless in her harness and knowing that she must stand quite still and docile, tossed her head and whinnied as the only protest she could make. As the lady's lips closed over her nipple, she felt an intense sucking as if her body was being drained empty. The lady raised her lips and showed the distended nipple. "It's a lovely teat," she remarked, putting it back into her mouth eagerly and renewing the sucking while Cheryl's whole body quivered in her harness.
"I'll ask the vet whether it is really necessary to breed from her in order to milk her," remarked the Countess, "I put the machine onto a young mare who had had a foal some time before, and after regular pulsation of the udders, the flow came, and she has milked well since. That might work with this lovely creature too."
Cheryl pawed the ground and swung her buttocks almost wanting to be ridden again. She had seen the young mare who was kept for the Countess's milking, and hitherto had had no wish to be in the same succulent harness, but her excited breasts were quivering after their sucking, and she almost wished to be brought to milk. She did not relish the idea of hand milking, it could be painful to have her breasts squeezed by the Countess to fill the pail, but the lady's sucking of the nipples gave her the feeling of complete submission that she had been trained to appreciate.