The Racing of Jayne - VI

by Martin McRae
- do not use without the author's permission.


10. A FILLY PREPARED

Jayne progressed through her training with remarkable facility. At the end of the fifth week of her training Jayne was brought before Don Estanio.

Fitted in a new display harness which jangled deliciously and which, without training bra, left her magnificent breasts bare, she paraded, showed off her walks and - a high plume fitted atop her head-harness to lend dramatic effect - gave a spectacular demonstration of the tossing prance. When the display was finished, Gregor led her to stand before her owner. Don Estanio came and ran his hand admiringly over Jayne's flanks, tested the firmness of her buttocks, lightly squeezed a breast. Speaking softly, just as one might to a favourite horse, he told Jayne he felt she was now ready to be Taken To The Blacksmith.

Quietly and earnestly her master reminded his newest pony-girl what happened there, how she would have her breasts roughly pulled into the rubber clamps of the ringing frame. How her nipples would then be cruelly drawn out from her breasts, stretched as far as they would go, then harshly pierced, the thick harness rings fitted. Then her buttocks would be branded. He reminded her that she had still time to withdraw from the contract - he even promised that, in recognition of her rapid and satisfactory progress, he would impose no financial penalty. Jayne's reply was immediate and firm: she did not wish to withdraw.

Next day Jayne was prepared by Gregor for the Blacksmith. Her harness was removed entirely and she was given a throughout work-out in the gym by the diminutive but demanding groom, his authority over her in no way diminished by the smallness of his stature or the strangeness of his facial looks. Then she was bathed and groomed, including having all trace of body hair carefully shaved away. As Jayne stood quietly with arms raised and hands clasped behind her neck Gregor used a long-bladed traditional cut-throat razor to shave her underarms bare.

Then using her hands behind her for support, she stood leaning back against the edge of the hand-basin in the shower room while Gregor plied the same terrifying instrument across the pushed-forward hump of the swelling pubis.

With some regret, for she was proud of the rich burning bush of her flaming thatch, Jayne watched the bright steel scythe through the heavily soaped and lathered mat, each slow, deliberate sweep mowing its rich harvest to leave behind pale, padded flesh, unnaturally bald. Rising on tiptoe, she parted her legs widely, her knees splayed, while Gregor carefully shaved each full sex lip and the tiny hairs which grow inside her thighs. A frisson of fear tingled within her at the thought of the sharp razor working on her intimate flesh. Combined with the not unpleasant sensations of hot water and Gregor's strong but gentle fingers teasing her lips apart, pressing and stroking as he manipulated her to allow the razor's keen edge to do its work, Jayne's fear turned to excitement which could not be denied. Jayne felt herself becoming aroused, knew that it was not only water and soap that oiled the swelling lips around her sex slot, easing the blade's progress across and along her swollen labia.

She held her breath, keeping herself utterly still, as Gregor with finger and thumb flattened and pulled apart the very upper junction of her sex lips. Her clitoris swelled erect within, further unmistakable evidence of her natural reaction to the handling of her sex and the stimulation of the warm, soapy water as well as the erotic anticipation of the shaving and what lay ahead. It pushed outwards from under the folded protective hood of the prepuce, prominently stiff. Carefully Gregor drew the edge of the glittering steel along the flattened inner edge of the padded flesh, then downwards and around the very base of the stiffened shaft. Jayne watched apprehensively as the razor-sharp steel slid toward the pink, vulnerable morsel. She could not help a sudden inner shudder as another brief frisson of fear griped her. Brightly pink, the rigid pole of stiffened gristle rose stiffly defiant before the advancing razor-edge. The shiny steel instrument momentarily rested against the thickened root of her shaft then, teasing her, Gregor drew the glinting steel along the length of her erect clit. She felt the hot edge scrape lightly along the exposed and ultra-sensitive flesh of the rigid organ: the sensation was acute, and her thighs trembled. She gasped audibly.

Copiously rinsed with warm water, then carefully dried with a fluffy towel, Jayne could feel the smooth slickness of her bald sexlips press together when she was at last allowed to close her legs and stand normally.

In the grooming hall, her lightly oiled and gleaming body stretched out but not bound on a massage table, she was made ready for the traditional 'passing out' ceremony where she would have to accommodate sexually each of the grooms in turn. There were twelve of them. She knew she must not merely lie passive while they took her, but instead would be required to respond and participate in her mass fuck with vigour and enthusiasm. It was part of the test of her willingness as a pony-girl to please. The grooms assembled and Jayne, laughing to hide her nervousness at the ordeal before her, called the first of them to her.

One by one they mounted her in close succession and without preamble, and soon Jayne's cunt was swollen and beginning to be sore, as well as swimming in cum which trickled from her body to grease her buttocks and the furrow between. Several of the grooms treated her roughly, squeezing and pumping her breasts, pulling and tugging at her stiffened nipples until her creamy orbs were reddened and aching, her nipples distended into heavily swollen teats, purple and sore. Two of the grooms - numbers seven and nine - took her anally which although giving her aching vagina a rest now made her bum-hole sore also: it was a form of intercourse which Jayne did not enjoy. To her relief the last-but-one elected to have her suck him off: Jayne took the heavy, swollen cock between her lips and tongued the underside of the glans. Relaxing her larynx she engulfed the full length of the groom's shaft, the head pushing to the very back of her throat, her own face and nose buried in the man's wiry mat of pubic hair. Still holding him fully contained she worked the rod with her tongue and the inside of her cheeks: as she felt the cock swell and the groom ready to ejaculate, she eased back so that only the head was still in her mouth, the O of her lips forming a tight seal behind the heavily swollen glans. The cock pumped out its spunk, and Jayne swallowed hard, continuing to hold the spent pump-gun until it began to soften. She lifted her head away and the quickly softening cock plopped from her mouth, its owner drained. Jayne's lips glistened, and a tiny trail of white spunk trailed across her chin.

Finally Gregor fucked her. To Jayne's mild surprise but great pleasure he did so neither perfunctorily, as had done some of the grooms, nor roughly as had the others but with tenderness and attention to her own feelings. Despite being close to sexual exhaustion, and despite the inside of her cuntal channel being now raw and sore, her breasts reddened and mauled, Jayne's response switched from detached professional skill and stoic endurance to private abandon, and she orgasmed naturally and deeply. As Gregor withdrew, she opened her eyes and saw genuine affection in his eyes: he saw tears in hers. For a moment more she grasped him with her arms, her legs curled over his and then - a most un-pony-girl gesture - kissed him affectionately on the forehead.

Jayne rose unsteadily, and followed Gregor to the shower cubicles where she was douched front and rear, then soaped and bathed again. Cold compresses calmed her inflamed breasts and bruised and swollen nipples.

Finally, she was given two small tranquilliser pills to calm her nerves for the difficult ordeal which lay ahead, rubbed from shoulders to toes with an aromatic grooming oil which also served to calm and even dull her senses - and Taken To The Blacksmith.



To be continued...