The ExWife Adventure 22-26 free porn video

The Ex-Wife Adventure 22-26 ------------------------------ by Amelie Fortescue copyright c2020 Amelie Fortescue. 22. Novice Race Next day at home, I was hurrying to complete an errand for Barbara when Sheila blocked my path. "Please, Mistress Sheila, can it wait? Mistress Barbara is waiting for her clean laundry - She will punish me, if you keep me talking!" "Oh, don't worry, Fifi! Barbara will punish you anyway - even if you run! ... I have had a phone call from Veronica ... She wants to race you this weekend - Does Frances have any objection to making you available then?" Sheila demanded. I stopped to allow Frances' persona to take over as I considered project progress. "Well, Sheila, there's a scheduled delivery due on Friday that is looking shaky - But nothing anyone can do to help - except Paul - and he is already on to it, and is busy kicking arses all along the supply chain ... I suppose Fifi is actually available this weekend, if you think it is really necessary ...?" "Yes, Fifi, It is necessary ... And by the way ... your proper pony boots have arrived - so no need to race in your ballet boots - you'll be kitted up to satisfy the racing regulations, and Veronica can enter you into the Novices One Mile competition ... I'll tell Barbara later, we'll deliver you to the racecourse in the horse box!" Sheila concluded, and she walked away deep in thought. I hurried to provide Barbara with her delayed laundry. "Fifi, you are either a bad girl ... or you deliberately provoke me to punish you - which is it?" Barbara demanded. I tried to explain about Sheila's interruption, but Barbara would have none of it. "I really can't abide being lied to by servants trying to save their hides! Come here and bend over my knee - first pass me that hairbrush!" Barbara punished me for making her wait. - - - - Barbara was trying to reassure me. "Look, Fifi, You trust Sheila - don't you? ... And you trust Sheila will protect you from my excesses?" she insisted, and I nodded uncertainly. "So ... if Sheila says it's Ok, then there's nothing for you to worry about - Is there?" I nodded even more uncertainly. "Now, Fifi, this lady, Samantha is an expert, and she will keep everything as painless as possible!" I gulped at my giant ball gag as Barbara mentioned Pain, and Samantha approached my bench with her bag of instruments smiling reassuringly. My neck brace prevented me from turning my head, as Samantha tickled my ear lobes. "Don't worry, Fifi ... Everybody has pierced ears these days - You will feel a little prick at each piercing, but the feeling will not last long!" she explained. But I already felt a little prick bound and gagged helpless on this bench, and fully feminised and caged into chastity. The local anaesthetic worked quite well, and soon both my ears sported rows of holes for ear rings, and the feeling was subsiding rapidly. I sighed in relief, and was much encouraged by her next comment. "If Fifi doesn't keep the studs or rings in the holes they will begin to close up!" I grinned around my ball gag, and Barbara looked at me annoyed. "Don't go yet, Samantha! There's another job or two that I would like you to do!" Barbara whispered into Samantha's ear, and I fumed in frustration. "Okay, but this will cost extra - It wasn't on the order," Samantha resigned herself. Suddenly my nipples were clamped, and I tensed. My false breasts had previously been removed to let my chest breathe, and now my nipples had been sprayed and clamped. I filled with foreboding - and yelled into my gag as the punch pierced my left nipple. My back was still arched in response to the pain as Samantha pierced my right nipple. My eyes flooded with tears of pain, as I slowly sank back into my bonds on the couch. Barbara removed my ball gag, and kissed me full on the mouth to comfort me. "Oh, Barbara ... How could you do this to me?" I sputtered through the pain, and my blurred vision missed the approaching clamp - expertly wielded by Samantha. My tongue was trapped, and my speech was inarticulate and useless. The clamp withdrew from my mouth and my tongue tip was dragged out trapped inside the clamp. A searing pain in my tongue made me repeat my battle with my bonds, and my arched back subsided slowly when the clamp was released. Barbara placed a blindfold over my eyes and cooed words of comfort, but shock-horror - unseen and unnoticed Samantha ambushed my septum and I tried to scream in agony. "Barbara, why are you doing this to me!" my thoughts demanded. As my eyes cleared, I stared at Barbara accusingly. I was literally speechless any attempt to talk would hurt my tongue. Barbara thanked Samantha and showed her out. Barbara returned as my vision began to clear and gazed at me lovingly before assaulting me with passionate kisses. She kissed my ears and she kissed my nipples and she wrestled my wounded tongue with her own. The various pains were decreasing rapidly, so I indulged her invasions with equanimity - but I was still angry with her. "Do you still love me, Fifi?" she enquired in in a humorous tone, but she desperately needed reassurance, and what was done - was done. I paused to punish her a little and slowly nodded my head once as far as the head restraint would permit. Barbara was like a little girl in her relief and happiness. "Yuh err vewy cwuel tuh mi! An av bwoken zuh wules!" I admonished her sternly. "Wye ave yuh dunnit?" I demanded. "The nipple rings will get you extra points at dressage, and the tongue stud will make you lisp like a little girl - And will increase the satisfaction for Sheila and myself when you are kneeling to please us," she added meaningfully. "Fwances mussunt lissp!" I objected as I struggled to be understood. "Don't worry, Fifi ... Fwances will never wear the stud or the nice nose ring, but she will wear the nipple rings under her false breasts, and I will secretly giggle at that bossy cow as she tries to get used to them." "Doo yoo weely hate Fwances so much?" I asked .. concerned. Barbara looked at me and smiled a huge smile. "I love Fwances to bits, but when I look at Fwances, I always think of Fifi, and I definitely prefer Fifi. I call Fwances names because she's my boss, and underlings must always slag off their bosses. But don't ever let Fwances stop being such a bossy bitch of a cow! I actually enjoy my relationship with her!" Barbara kissed me passionately, and she began to release me from the bench. - - - - Sheila was furious. "Damn you, Barbara! I only agreed to ear piercing - one piercing per ear. "Poor Fifi's ears look like colanders, and her nipples are now disfigured for evermore ... That tongue stud - I admit it has possibilities - But it's just not compatible with Frances's persona, and nobody will understand any word she says at work ... You've ruined everything, Barbara!" Sheila began to cry. Barbara hugged her to comfort her, and I joined in the group hug. "Barbwah sez zuh shud vull bi owt fuh Fwances," I offered to calm Sheila down, but her shoulders shook in spasms of apparent despair, She turned inside Barbara's grasp and kissed me, then laughed. "Barbara, that stud makes Fifi so sweet ... I am beginning to like it ... and you're sure that it's removable?" "Certainly it is ... And you'll get to enjoy that stud even more in the bedroom!" Sheila blushed prettily in response. "With disuse all the holes will heal in time - so the lasting harm rule is not broken - The Prince Albert piercing I wanted Fifi to have would never heal, so Fifi was let off there!" Barbara muttered with downcast eyes. I suddenly felt some relief - I had unknowingly escaped the worst of the nightmare assault - the sum of the piercings was so much less than might-have-been. I hope Fred would forgive everything when he finally returned. - - - - Fifi the pony was trapped against the back of the horsebox surrounded by three determined women. My corset had been replaced by a very tight leather and steel waist cincher replete with buckles and attachment rings. My cage had been removed at home and replaced by a triangular plate with a captive tube to contain my penis, and the plate was attached by tight straps to the waist cincher. My genitals had disappeared. I looked like I was wearing a female chastity belt. "I am not wearing those silly, stupid hoof boots!" I insisted as I evaded a pair of grabbing arms, and was immediately captured by the other women. "Oh, yes you are!" chorused all three captors, and they giggled at the pantomine response. With my wrists already handcuffed behind, they soon had me falling on my rump onto the straw-covered floor, and efficiently set about providing my feet with hoof boots. I continued to struggle and Barbara gave Veronica some advice. "When the pony is skittish and uncooperative, you need to hook a rein strap onto her nose ring to quieten her!" My eyes widened as I saw Veronica bringing the clip end of the lead towards my tightly held head. The advice was sound - I stopped bucking, but complained loudly. "Also ... Ponies cannot talk, Veronica, so please fit the bridle - Sheila will help you if you need assistance!" The bridle bit reduced my complaints to gurgles and mumbles, which everybody ignored. Sheila gathered my long hair into a high pony tail and brushed it lovingly. Barbara produced the actual pony tail, which was designed to be fitted in a crush loop in the crotch strap of my new chastity belt. Barbara showed the pony tail to Sheila and Veronica nad they all giggled furtively - while glancing at me. I had been shown the pony tail earlier at home - it consisted of a flat rubber base trapped by the crush loop in the strap next to my anus - there was a stiff section to hold the pony tail away from my backside - and then a luxuriant mass of real horsehair pony tail drooping almost to the ground - Hardly anything to giggle about. I cooperated and knelt on all fours as they struggled to open the crush loop deep in my anal cleft - then suddenly plop! I had been duped! I knew it immediately! They had substituted the original pony tail for another - My new pony tail was attached to an uncomfortable butt plug retained deep inside me by the crush loop. With three pairs of arms helping, I stumbled to stand up. The hoof boots felt like ballet boots but missing the support heel. If I relaxed my straight ankle, an unbearable strain would be felt. I needed to consciously tiptoe all the time to avoid instant pain, but despite all my experience with the ballet boots, my calf muscles were starting to shout at me. I tried to explain this past the bit gag, but nothing was understood. Veronica led me gently out of the horse box by the rein in my nose ring, and my wives walked at my sides in moral support for my wobbly walking. "Veronica, you've seen Frances's secret ..." Barbara began as we walked and I almost froze in horror. "I hope it will be safe with you?" Barbara finished. "Don't worry! I have several friends who are embarrassed about their limited endowments. I am grateful to Fifi for exposing her nipple rings - They will be magnificently integrated into the harness!" she enthused. When we arrived at the cart, I was made to stand still, while the harness and reins were organised and attached to me. Finally with a whip flick on my exposed butt cheek, and "Walk-on!" commanded, I slowly pulled the cart with Veronica. "That will never do!" shouted Sheila and Barbara together. "Make your pony high-step all the time!" insisted Barbara. "Use the whip, if the knee doesn't rise far enough!" commanded Sheila. Veronica nodded, and despite having already corrected my sloppy gait, she flicked the whip sharply on my other exposed cheek. Veronica continued to practice driving me until ten minutes before the novices' race. "If you win the race, I will give you three sugar lumps," Veronica promised, and I shook my head with a snort of derision. "Come second - two sugar lumps. Third place - one sugar lump ..." She paused meaningfully. "Any other placing earns whip cuts on your thighs ... So fourth place gives four cuts ...Fifth place gets you five cuts ... and so on. Do we understand one another?" I thought 'How about not finishing?' ... being unplaced ... but Veronica would have that covered, and so I needed to be in the first three finishers. - - - - I was still totally surprised as I sucked my three sugar lumps ... I had every expectation of being whipped, but Veronica was over the moon, and as Barbara and Sheila rushed up to congratulate her. Veronica abandoned me to accept their hugs. The handbrake on my chariot had been totally forgotten. I think a devil must have tempted me just then. My reins had been knotted onto my bridle, and nobody was minding me. I took off at a fast sprint, but quickly realised that no escape was possible - I was restricted to the racecourse. Initially the women tried to catch me, but they couldn't catch a winning, racing pony, and they soon dropped back. The Tannoy speaker warned all race-goers that a pony had stampeded, and the rest of the warning was lost under the noise of the excited buzz from the multitudinous crowd. Some spectators invaded the course to try to intercept me, but I easily weaved around to miss them, and eventually finished my extra circuit at the finish line - where Barbara grabbed my bridle and then my reins. "You BAD, BAD pony, Fifi!" she scolded me and then failed to suppress a grin and a giggle before scolding me again. "We'll have to take advice from the stewards, but I think you have to expect a severe whipping for your trouble!" - - - - 23. Horsey "Richard wants another 'business' meeting this evening ... Apparently Veronica wants to thank all three of us for looking after her at the races last weekend..." Sheila shouted from the bedroom as she replaced the telephone. I cringed. "Aren't we letting Veronica get too familiar with us ....?" I queried tenuously. "Nonsense! Don't be silly, Frances! We all have great fun together! Veronica is a dear friend of ours - a friend of all of us!" she insisted pointedly. "I've accepted for all three of us ... so there's the end of it!" - - - - Another restaurant - another dinner in London. Another grand entrance for the three slutty goths striding confidently to Richard's reserved table. Effusive greetings from Veronica and apologetic welcomes from Richard. "I'm sorry to drag you all into town, but for some reason Veronica was quite insistent. "I told her that a nice card is the normal thanks for the organisers, but ...." Veronica was squeezing my false breasts against my ineffectually weak resistance, until she noticed Richard staring at her aghast. "It's just a secret we share, darling," Veronica excused herself blushingly, and desisted to sit back in her place. The dinner progressed normally except for Veronica repeatedly trying to offer me the sugar bowl laden with sugar lumps. "You blush beautifully, Fif ... Frances!" she purred and I blushed scarlet again. "Thank you all for looking after my wife - She hates the big formal meets like Cheltenham and Newbury, but enjoys the smaller meets that never make it onto the official racing calendar - If I didn't know her better, I might have thought her shy ... Anyway I'm glad she's fallen in with you three - she counts you all as her best friends!" "We simply love racing together don't we, Fif ... Frances?" Veronica stared straight at me, and I switched on like a red traffic light. "I don't like to be pushy, but when can we go racing again?" Veronica asked Sheila and Barbara. "We have to be sure that Frances is available, Veronica. The project takes priority over pleasure - you know!" "We'll make it soon. I promise." Sheila looked at me significantly. "We all enjoyed the last race meeting - Didn't we, Frances?" she had cornered me deliberately, and I was forced to nod my agreement. - - - - Barbara had decided that I had demonstrated enthusiasm in my role as a pony girl, and despite my protests, she ordered a custom Pony Trainer to be installed at her house. The Pony Trainer was a modification of the gymnasium rolling road. It could tilt uphill and downhill, and had a huge screen in front that showed countryside being penetrated at a speed synchronised with the rolling road. Being meant for cart training, the simulator had two beams extending into the road in place of the cart shafts, which are attached to the trainee's harness. The speed of the rolling road is directly controlled by the force presented to the shafts. All very clever and impressive! Barbara was thrilled when the installation was completed. The telephone call lit up her face. The installers had fully tested the trainer, and had left the premises. Barbara replaced the telephone, and turned to me with puppy dog eyes. "Frances, please be Fifi, and come home with me now!" she begged her bitchy boss. We were all at work on the project, and there were no urgent problems - just the usual hard grind to progress the project, so I called for Sheila. If Fifi was to be summoned, then I wanted Sheila as a referee and moderator. Barbara was extremely excited and she was already treating me as Fifi as she bundled me towards her car. - - - - The pony trainer was a success - I really needed regular exercise, and despite the 'careful' diet I was forced to follow by my mistresses, I had been accumulating fat. I admit that it was extremely kinky to be feminised and dressed and restrained as a pony girl, but I enjoyed the exercise - I suppose I enjoyed the endomorphins and the feeling of well-being, and every time I used the trainer, Barbara was my adoring audience. Barbara arranged to have a dummy sulky chariot positioned behind the beams, and she could sit in the dummy sulky and operate the reins. Barbara commissioned various scenery sequences to prevent boredom, and the detail and slope simulations were almost magical. There was one sequence where a blackbird seemed to almost collide with me as it dashed across - magical! - - - - Inevitably another race meeting was scheduled, and Barbara informed me that Fifi was entered for some half dozen races with Barbara and Sheila sharing the driving. Veronica would get to play with Fifi between races. I neighed my acquiescence, and Barbara and Sheila grinned and laughed and hugged me. I loved being hugged by my wives. - - - - "Fifi, these are serious races - not like the novices race last time ... Serious people bet serious money on the outcomes. ... So lose the flippant attitude - any bad behaviour by a pony can overturn the result - so be good - Ok!" Barbara briefed me before my first race, and then Sheila flicked her whip on my buttock and used the reins to guide me to my place in the starting lineup. After all my intense training, victory seemed easy, and I glowed as the winner's rosette was pinned to my bridle. But my second race with Barbara driving was a disaster. I took it easy relying on a final burst of speed to dramatically finish first - However, I left it too late, and overestimated my sprinting capability - I came fourth, and Barbara was unsparing with her whip against my buttocks. Eventually she relented and dismounted to hug and kiss me. "I'm sorry, Fifi. ... But I really, really wanted a win for my first race! I'm sorry to take out my disappointment on your backside." I nuzzled her in forgiveness - drowning in guilt. "Hello, you two!" Veronica exclaimed as she and Sheila found us leaving the course. Sheila saw that Barbara was still fragile and hugged her, and Veronica took over my reins and started playing with my nipple rings. "Hello, Fifi, are you pleased to see me?" She tugged at my rings to prompt me to answer, so I nodded vigorously. As Sheila broke away from her hug, Veronica spoke to Barbara. "I was just telling Sheila ... I have my own pony girl now ... Well ... She's not really a pony girl just yet - but she will be. I want you all to help me to train her ... Her name is 'Horsey', and she's tied up in my horsebox, and waiting for us. - - - - I was a spectator with my cart handbrake fully applied as the three women brought the captive Horsey out of Veronica's horsebox. Veronica had made no pony girl concessions to Horsey's appearance - Horsey was a naked and gagged damsel in distress strapped into complete helplessness. Veronica quickly dragged a large cardboad box out of the horsebox. "I brought every piece of harness that I could think of for Horsey, and lots of horse brasses that took my fancy as well... I would like you two experts to guide me in tacking Horsey - I don't want to make any silly mistakes that look ridiculous or hurt Horsey!" The three mistresses started sorting through the box, and Barbara ran to fetch missing items from our own horsebox. I watched as the damsel-in-distress was converted into a serious pony girl, who was helped to stand next to me in her unfamiliar hoof boots, and leaving Sheila and Veronica supporting the unsteady girl, Barbara crossed in front of her and removed her gag bit. "Horsey, this is important! ... Are you volunteering as a pony girl, or are you under duress?" Barbara demanded intently. "Thank you, can I have a drink of water, please! ... Well, yes ... I suppose I am volunteering ... I am mistress Veronica's new lesbian lover, and she makes all my decisions for me," Horsey replied, and Barbara nodded. She waited until Sheila had finished giving Horsey a drink and then replaced her bit gag. Horsey stared at me and grinned around her gag. I felt uncomfortable. "Horsey is too unsteady to take a sulky on her own," Barbara decided. "We'll clip Horsey to Fifi and make an offset pair - then if Horsey stumbles, Fifi will keep her upright." A whole host of clips and short chains were mustered, and Horsey was chained to my right side, and as an afterthought ... her left ankle was linked to my right ankle by a short chain. Barbara and Veronica squeezed side-by-side into my sulky, and Barbara took both sets of reins. "Fifi, You're teaching Horsey, so be gentle and patient! Horsey, you must be aware of all rein, whip and audible commands from your driver ... AND pay attention to Fifi's responses - Fifi is teaching you how to be a pony girl!" "Do not emulate Fifi's rebellious nature!" Sheila shouted from the side. and laughed. The first steps were the worst - Horsey could hardly even stand in her hoof boots, and walking was extremely difficult. I didn't dare to high- step, so we shuffled forward with me using my body weight to retain Horsey in an upright posture. We shuffle around as Barbara made us practice all her commands, and then continued with Veronica driving. Horsey was a quick and willing learner, and her reliance on my physical support rapidly lessened as we shuffled, but returned as high-stepping was demanded by our drivers. Horsey had made good progress, when Sheila announced lunch was ready. Horsey and I were un-harnessed and turned into Veronica's horsebox - using it as a loose box. I stared at Barbara accusingly, as she placed two large bowls of dry oats next to two drinking bowls on the floor. "You must both watch your weights now!" she giggled, and looked up to see Sheila returning brandishing an ignition key. "It's not that I don't trust you, Veronica," Sheila began. "Well, I suppose it is because I don't trust you - You can't just drive off, and kidnap our pony!" They all laughed and the two pony girls stared to the heavens at their levity, and then grinned at one another. - - - - Horsey and I were in a mess. We had both needed a drink, and had slowly slid and rolled down the side walls to get down to floor level. We had wriggled to our drinking bowls, and after spilling most of the water, we had both managed to have a drink - But now we were both stuck on the floor. There was no way we could stand up alone, and we had tried to sit back-to-back pushing with our legs, but those useless hoof boots just wouldn't grip. "You lazy, lazy pony girls!" Veronica shouted at us after she had finished her lunch, and Sheila and Barbara hurried to see. "Get up! Get up!" they shouted at us as they dragged us upright. I tried to protest their accusations, but talking past the gag bit was an abject failure, and so three whips applied to two bottoms hurried us back to our sulky, where we were quickly re-harnessed for our another session. Teaching Horsey to trot seemed to go a lot better than expected. Her balance was good, and she coordinated her left ankle so closely with my right that the chain link hardly pulled at all. Suddenly Sheila shouted after looking at her watch, "Barbara, my next race - We need to get to the start line!" Horsey was rapidly disconnected from me, and Sheila drove me like fury to the start of our race. I was exhausted on arrival, and only managed to get third place at the finish line. I was less arrogant now - Some of these professional pony girls were very fit and very fast. While Sheila and I had been racing, Barbara and Veronica had obtained another sulky, and we saw Horsey being trotted around in figure-of- eights by Veronica. I heaved a sigh of relief - Horsey no longer needed my physical support. When Sheila reined me to a halt beside her, Barbara took over her seat, and directed me back to the start of the next race, so I missed seeing Horsey's further progress. - - - - At the end of the day's races, the three mistresses decided that they should celebrate their achievements, and after un-harnessing Horsey and myself, and locking us in Veronica's horse box, they wandered towards the beer tent. "We shall have to fetch our own drinks," Barbara complained to Sheila. "Yes, we can hardly send Fifi - ponies don't have hands to carry trays!" Barbara and Sheila laughed, but Veronica was curious. "Does Fifi normaly fetch and carry for you?" she asked politely. "Fifi is 'normally' our maid," Sheila replied soberly, but Barbara hadn't finished. "Fifi is 'normally' our sexy French maid slave and bondage sex toy ..." Barbara quietened as she realised that she had been too indiscreet. She winced as Sheila kicked her ankle. "Horsey will be the same for me ..." Veronica mused - unfazed, and Sheila relaxed. "... And to think ... My big macho husband is scared of Fif..Frances - He absolutely dreads upsetting her! ... Of course, girls, Fifi is our secret ... He can continue to tremble before Bossy Frances!" Veronica was interrupted by Barbara. "You see, Sheila, Richard agrees with me ... Frances really is a bossy bitch! We have created a monster ..." Barbara halted as she realised the implications of her outburst, but Veronica had taken a more shallow interpretation, and all was well. - - - - After waiting an hour for the mistresses to return and free us, it started to get dark, and we naturally stood leaning together as the air cooled, after another half hour, we simultaneously decided that standing in our hoof boots was just too tortuous, so we again slid and rolled down the walls of the horsebox onto the straw on the floor. I lay still on the floor, and Horsey wriggled over to me for extra warmth. After a few minutes of companionable stillness, Horsey stirred and wriggled onto my legs. Somehow she had freed her tongue from the tongue depressor, and was licking the back of my knees. It was heavenly ... but definitely not allowed - Only my wives were allowed to pleasure me! I wriggled away from her and sat up with my back against a wall - the crotch strap of my chastity was at maximum tension, and I feared for my future usefulness as a male. Horsey simply wriggled after me, and a glint of moonlight from her eyes gave the impression of madness. Unknowingley, I had taken refuge in a corner and I was trapped. "Don't fight it!" she mouthed past her bit gag, and wriggled up my body. "I am a lesbian nymphomaniac, an excellent lover, and I have fancied you all day, Fifi. Our situation is overwhelmingly erotic, and I have decided to eat you up!" Her lips found my left nipple ring and she jerked it, and I gasped aloud. "Fifi, you are my slave! We are both slave pony girls, but you are my slave - the slave of a slave! If you don't obey, or fail to cooperate, I will rip your nipple rings right out of your nipples! Now remain still while I enjoy myself!" I was helpless to resist - I really wanted to confound her, but I believed her threat. If I wriggled away from her and she caught me, I could not protect myself. No, I could kick her to keep her away - my legs were unfettered, I could land a few kicks that might even kill her - No - that was unthinkable. This was all the mistresses' fault - Why had we been abandoned for so long. Horsey had now gone to sleep sucking on my nipple with my nipple ring trapped inside her mouth. I smiled as I thought of this confirmed lesbian fancying me, and insisting on having an erotic experience with me. I was her prisoner until I could be rescued. "My God!" I thought. "I hope she doesn't wake with a start when the mistresses finally return!" - - - - 24. New Pastures "I think the pony exerciser is getting a bit too boring..." Barbara began after inviting Fifi to join her and Sheila on the couch in an impromptu 'Playtime Break'. "It's great for wet days and winter training, but the open air is more stimulating!" Both Sheila and I looked at Barbara carefully. "Where is this leading?" we both thought. Barbara saw our quizzical expressions and laughed gaily. "Of course, Fifi still needs an intensive race-training routine, but outside - where everything is real - not simulated scenery and avatar bumble bees ..." Barbara paused to check that we were both following her thread. "Your garden is bigger than ours ... but it would still need to be a very small and BORING racetrack!" Sheila countered. "I have arranged access to a new unexplored circuit in the countryside - where Fifi can run free - except for being bound, gagged and harnessed to the cart!" Barbara smirked at me, and burst into laughter at her own joke. "A friend of mine has a large country estate with a mixed forest gone- natural. He has promised me private access to the forest this weekend ... He assures me that the old logging roads are still in good condition, and they form a grid, on which we can impose our race circuit." Barbara grinned awaiting praise for her cleverness. "Oh, Barbara..." Sheila interjected. "I have already promised Aunty Bobo that I would take her to the flower show on Saturday...!" "Do you mind if I take Fifi on my own?" Barbara asked Sheila. It was all arranged - and as usual, my opinion was neither desired nor asked. - - - - Barbara explained as the old retainer slowly opened the great iron gate. "This estate is the ancestral home of Lord Fawcet of Crowle - the ninth of that ilk. He in the Caribbean on holiday just now, and we'll have private access to the forest. I wanted you in the car with me, in case Old Jenkins wanted to inspect the horse box. I expect you to be a good girl, when I'm ready to prepare my pony ... No fussing, no arguing - and certainly no running away!" Barbara looked at me quizzically, and I promised to be good. Barbara had a sketch map that Lord Fawcet had telexed to her. "We'll bypass the main house - we're already behind schedule - and only the house staff will be there - with lots of time-wasting questions for us." Barbara drove into the forest and found a clearing where she could park both the car and horsebox. She leant across and kissed me. "Into the horsebox, darling and get stripped off and help me! Without Sheila here, I need you to help as much as you can!" I grimaced at her. Being forced to be her pony girl was one thing, but active cooperation was really pushing it. She kissed me again, and I dashed to open the horsebox, and get the tack boxes opened. "Leave those for me!" she said as she arrived. "Get yourself stripped down ... here's your cage key - get your chastity plate on - call to me when you're ready to have it tightened - No, no, no, you need to get your hoof boots on first - you know you can't bend with your new chastity harness!" "So much for helping!" I thought, "Barbara still wants to micromanage all Fifi's actions!" Sooner than expected I was stripped, bound and harnessed and waiting to go, Amazingly we were still friends, and I grinned around my bit at Barbara before she mounted the chariot, and she grinned back at me. She laughed as she whipped my right bottom cheek, and commanded "Walk on!" - - - - There was a lot of damage to the logging tracks - some caused by frost and rain and some by fallen trees, but after a lot of dead ends, Barbara was able to determine a usable racing circuit. Barbara had brought a supply of streamers that she attached to prominent trees at every track junction - Two streamers per junction to indicate the racing route. Feeling satisfied with herself, Barbara was ready for me to race. I felt the whip sting each bottom cheek in rapid succession and we were off. Barbara was right - despite the fascinating detail shown by the simulator, real racing was better - the wind in my face and on my bared chest and legs was like an old friend. ... And Barbara was now the driver in a real sulky, not a passenger in the stationary simulator. Barbara was enjoying forcing me into tight corners, and I could hear her chuckling contentedly above the rumbling of the wheels. - - - - 25. Trespassing The man came from nowhere - well, not true - he must have come from somewhere when he suddenly leapt out in front of me as I hurtled round a bend . His widespread arms were intended to block my way, and he had a double- barrelled shotgun in one hand. Barbara heaved on my reins, and as my head faced the sky, I feared for my sorely-stretched nipples ... Barbara had connected each nipple ring to the relevant side of the bit gag, and the reins to the mid points of the chains. Needless to say, I blindly stopped as quickly as I could. As Barbara released the reins, I discovered that the man had grabbed them from her. He tied my reins to a nearby bush, and weighing his shotgun, he invited Barbara to dismount. Barbara was in shock as much as I was, and complied. The man quickly and expertly fastened Barbara's hands behind her back using two interlocked zip cable ties. He searched her pockets and found nothing and then opened the front zip on her tight leather jacket and searched inside her bra. Barbara recovered her voice, and harangued the man loudly and mercilessly - which he totally ignored. He tied a piece of string around her neck and led her to me. He untied my reins, and led us both along the track - Barbara's stream of loud abuse and invective remained at full volume and unbroken. Hidden in the shadows between two trees stood the man's Landrover - we must have passed by a half-dozen times and never seen it. He tied our leads to a bush while he drove his Landrover back onto the track. Barbara - still protesting loudly - was placed in the passenger seat and belted safely, before her door was closed. The man took my reins, and after looking at my complicated harness, he shook his head, and spoke for the first time. "Well, miss, I don't know - I'm sure! ... But if I go slow, will you be ok - following with that rig?" I nodded, and he briefly grinned at me, before tying my reins onto the back of his Landrover. He set off slowly, and I could see Barbara turn in her seat and stare at me in alarm. After a pause of incredulity, the volume and pitch of Barbara's protests doubled. The man couldn't ignore the onslaught, and held one hand over an ear. The distraction affected his driving. The speed of our progress kept increasing gradually. I found myself running at full speed with the reins pulling hard. The bit chain pulled my head down, but the pull on the nipple rings distorted my breasts into sharp cones - and I was running at breathless full-speed - faster than I had ever run before, and with an amazingly long stride. Suddenly Barbara gave up shouting at the man and collapsed sobbing in her seat with occasional glances at me flying along behind. The man became suddenly alert and realised that his speed was excessive - He braked to an emergency stop, and I crashed through the Landrover tailgate. It was an old Landrover, and the tailgate fixings had been badly repaired many times... breaking the tailgate absorbed most of the energy. I escaped with sore ribs and a varigated pattern of bruises. The rest of that journey was at walking pace, and Barbara sobbed all the way. - - - - The man had some sort of office on the estate. That was a relief - not your average kidnapper or rapist! "So ... Rather a complex disguise for you two for poaching, eh?" "Poaching? .. Poaching how? Running down hares with my pony and cart? Fishing for salmon with my little buggy whip? Poaching ... Poaching how?" Barbara demanded. "You know very well someone else does the actual poaching and people like you smuggle out the game later!" he accused. "The estate's been losing deer at a helluva rate, how much do you get for black market venison, eh?" He telephoned the main house to ask for two female servants to come and take charge of us until he could get the police to fetch us. "Police?" Both Barbara and myself were alarmed for the same reason - Revelations about Fifi - Newspapers - Scandals - Lost contracts. Barbara changed her attitude. "Before you get the Police, I suggest you should talk to Reggie Fawcet. He will not be happy with you for your existing contribution to our woes ... and if you get the police, he will be incandescent with rage!" she pronounced. The man was unsure. Barbara knew Lord Fawcet's pet name, and she was trying to sound reasonable. The man looked at me and asked, "You don't say much! Is she right?" I stared at him and nodded and then grinned around my bit gag. "Lord Fawcet is away from home ..." the man began, but Barbara interrupted. "Yes, ... sailing in the Caribbean with his wife - Ring through to the gate house and ask Old Jenkins about us - he'll ..." Barbara was interrupted. "You claim to know Old Jenkins?". The man didn't really believe her. "He's known me since I was a child ... visiting the eighth earl ..." she insisted. The man was already dialling, and after a few words, the man held the phone for Barbara. "Hi, Sherbert," she shouted when she heard the voice at the far end. "One of the estate workers has assaulted and kidnapped us, and wants to hand us to the police." There was short pause, then, "Old Jenkins wants to talk to you again," she told him. The man didn't get a chance to talk. It became obvious by his change in colour that Old Jenkins was giving him chapter and verse about Barbara's relationship with the Fawcets. "I'm very sorry, Mrs Bingley ..." the man started. "Nobody warned me you would be up in Jackdaw Woods, and I don't know you personally - do I?" he offered as he cut off Barbara's zip ties. "You'll not have the chance, my man!" she assured him, as she wound herself up for an all-out assault on him. I collided with her gently pushing her away from her target. "Get away, Fifi! I want to finish this first!" she ordered, but I pushed her away again, and she looked at me keenly. "Do you want to say something, Fifi?" she asked me and I nodded, so she removed my bit gag. "Thank you, mistress! Our man here has just been doing his job - Even when he searched your bra - he was probably looking for a GPS device with the poached stash location set ... If he was working for you, you would praise him wouldn't you?" I asked Barbara quietly. Barbara nodded, and then slowly smiled at me, before replacing my bit gag. "I am sorry," she told the man, "I was getting over-excited generally, but I can't forgive you for nearly dragging poor Fifi to her death!" The man blanched guiltily. "It was totally irresponsible of me, but I claim mitigation in the distraction caused by the painful earful, that I was receiving at that time!" he replied softly. I could see that Barbara was smelling blood so I pushed her away again. "What, Fifi? Are you trying to shield him again?" Barbara asked incredulously, and I nodded. Barbara glared at the man and then turned quickly as a car crossed the horizon. She jumped into the sulky, and with two whip cracks on my rear, we raced back into the woods to avoid encountering any more strangers. Following this excitement, Barbara curtailed the training session, and I was simply pushed into the horsebox next to the sulky and shut in for the entire journey home. - - - - Sheila listened enraptured, as Barbara recounted our adventure - I corrected and amended and supplemented as I saw fit, and Barbara looked rather annoyed with me. "Who is telling this story, Fifi? Is it me or someone who thoroughly enjoys being punished?" she asked me meaningfully, so I became quite quiet. Sheila was fascinated as she replayed the interesting bits. "So this 'strange man' effectively kidnapped both of you and stared hard at half-naked Fifi, and then had the bare-faced effrontery to push his hand in your bra?" Sheila was enjoying our adventure at second-hand, and paused to enjoy her imagination. "... And you say that our slave pony maid, Fifi prevented you from having him arrested?" Both Sheila and Barbara turned to face me, so I decided that I was allowed to answer this one. "Mistress Sheila, the man was just doing his duty as he saw it ... It was an honest mistake - not of his own making ... He thought we were part of a venison poaching gang, and nobody had warned him we were going to be there ..." I was defending him again, but Barbara had interrupted. "We should have prosecuted him for nearly killing you - by almost dragging you at a crazy, high speed behind his Landrover - It was a miracle that you survived!" Barbara asserted, and both my wives looked at me with very serious faces. "He was distracted! ..." I posited, "and it all worked out ok!" I summarised. "And ... having to keep up with the Landrover, I learnt a new gait - a really fast gait - I think that I shall be unbeatable at all the flat races until the other ponies learn to copy it! ... I shall call it either the 'Cheetah Gait, or the 'Landrover Gait''." Barbara grinned in pleasure - winning meant a lot to Barbara. Sheila grinned at me with teary eyes - I knew she was imagining me dead and ripped to shreds - dragging behind a speeding Landrover. "Next time it's my turn to drive the cart through Jackdaw Woods!" Sheila announced and nobody argued. "I would like to wear a skirt next time?" I requested, "I know that a top would interfere with the nipple reins, but you must admit that a short skirt - like a tennis skirt - would make me less ... embarassed ... without affecting performance?" I waited quietly while they discussed my request. "Very well, Fifi. As a reward for not getting killed, you can wear a short, white tennis skirt next time!" Barbara announced gravely, and then laughed at her own pomposity, and all three of us began to belly- laugh uncontrollably. Barbara checked the time, and went to use the telephone. "Barbara's ringing Lord Fawcet on his yacht," Sheila explained to me. "She wants some changes made at Jackdaw Woods..." "She's not going to get the gamekeeper sacked?" I asked horrified. "No, dear, she wants Jackdaw Woods to be more secure, and has to speak to the earl first." - - - - 26. Poachers The next weekend, we all three drove to Jackdaw Wood with the horsebox stuffed with the chariot, and tack and everything else that my wives could not manage without. Barbara stopped at the gamekeeper's office - He was expecting us, and thanked Barbara for the CCTV and the new fence. Both Sheila and myself were puzzled until Barbara explained. "Lord Fawcet agreed to a chain-link fence all around the wood, and he agreed to the CCTV surveillance of the entire fence - said it might help stop the poaching. Have a look in the office here!" Barbara nodded at the gamekeeper to confirm his assumed acceptance, and he opened his door wide to let us in. Every wall was covered in monitors. They were arranged in folded linear arrays representing all four sides of the new fence. The big monitors on the desk were sequentially switched to cameras which detected motion in their field of view. Given the size of Jackdaw Wood, this lot had cost quite a pretty penny - not to mention the miles and miles of chain link fencing. "There is a duplicate monitoring station at the main house as well," the gamekeeper informed us. "But although the fence has been ready for days, deer are still disappearing at a high rate. The price of venison as it is, somebody might get killed by simply trying to stop these poachers ..." I pointedly looked at Barbara. "Somebody would need to be as rich as Croesus to afford all this!" And Barbara grinned her mischievous grin at me. We got back in the car and drove up to Jackdaw Wood, where we were held up by a huge, remotely-operated security gate, which promptly opened for us. "The gamekeeper controls all the gates remotely," Barbara purred. "He will be at the monitor all day every time we need to be here. ... And all his minions will be out on patrol near the fence. They will all work to guarantee our privacy. Rumours about what happened last weekend are circulating, and there is likely to be a rash of 'peeping-toms' from the estate and from the villages. Sheila, myself and the gamekeeper will always be in contact by radio. If anything looks like happening - we all go straight home again! Ok?". Barbara instructed us, and we nodded obediently. 'General' Barbara seemed to have planned everything. We parked in the same clearing as before, and my wives pounced on me, swapped my chastity devices, and changed me into a pony girl in a pleated tennis skirt. The skirt had built-in panties, so my modesty was well protected down below. "Yah - Boo" to any Peeping-toms in that department. Barbara was having trouble getting the sulky out of the horsebox, and called Sheila to help her. Unguarded .. I sprinted off down the track, and heard Barbara shouting after me, so out of interest, I slowed to listen to what she was saying. "Fifi, If you take even one more step in your escape, Sheila and I will pack up and just leave you here alone ... You will have to get home by yourself!" My raised foot was lowered only after my u-turn was completed, and then with head hanging, I returned to be harnessed to the cart. "Some people are just no-fun!" I decided silently as I absorbed scolding glares from them both. It was Sheila's turn to drive the cart, but Barbara wanted to ride as passenger. Sheila wasn't having it. "We're practising for a race ... and in a race there's just one person, the driver in the cart... If we were training for strength or endurance, two people would be fine, but we're training for speed, and to train for speed, the cart has to attain a high speed - which cannot be achieved with two on board!" Barbara conceded, and promised to prepare the picnic lunch in time for our return. Barbara also insisted that Sheila's radio be set to sound-activated- mode, so that she could eavesdrop on our practice, and enjoy the event as if it was a radio program. - - - - Sheila was a more cautious driver than Barbara, and it was down to my initiative to race for top speed. Each time I burst into 'Cheetah Gait' I felt hesitancy and caution transmitted through my reins. At some corners I detected touches from the handbrake - I would have to have a long talk with Sheila later - but maybe not - Sheila was gradually learning to trust me more as I speeded around every corner in 'Cheetah Gait'. At last driver and pony were becoming a team with the single aim of going as fast as possible over the distance. I wheeled around a blind corner and suddenly - there were three men blocking the track ... Each man heavily burdened by an animal carcase. They were just as surprised as we were. There was no chance of turning round or turning off the track, so I aimed for the biggest gap and accelerated to my heart-bursting, top speed ... We were going to punch our way between them, and they obliged by awkwardly shambling away from the reach of the speeding cart - which suddenly slowed and shuddered to a halt. I simply couldn't believe it - Sheila had operated the handbrake. - - - - "Who are you people?" Sheila demanded. "This is a private event - you shouldn't be here! This area is for our private use and you are trespassing!" I cringed as Sheila's tirade continued, and cautiously tested whether the handbrake was still holding me back - unfortunately it was! The three men slowly surrounded us as Sheila continued to dig the metaphorical hole ever deeper and deeper. One man was already using his free hand to investigate my torso, and his fingers flicked my nipple rings playfully. The other two pulled Sheila from the cart, and ignored her abuse and complaints as they tied her wrists and elbows behind her. All three deer carcases were tossed into the cart and one man produced a dirty handkerchief, which he used to gag Sheila. The first man returned to me and grabbed my reins to make me move. I obligingly leant into the shafts, but made no headway against the handbrake. The second man spotted the handbrake and released it, and I was led away by the first man - the other two men frogmarched Sheila after the cart. "These two snoopers need to have a little accident!" the first man shouted back to his friends, "Shame though - they're both very tasty!" said one. "Both very, very kinky - have you ever seen anything like this setup before?" replied another, and all three laughed. "I don't mind kinky - providing they're sexy, and good in the hay!" was shouted anonymously as we turned off onto an overgrown side track. "Doesn't the bible say that kinksters should be killed like in Sodom and Gomorra?" another offered. "Yeah, that's right - something like that - we'll be doing the Lord's work when we kill them ..." "We'll not kill them till we've tried them out properly!" another voice insisted and this was met by general agreement just as my handler stopped me as we neared the new fence. I looked and there were no CCTV cameras in sight in both directions, but we were not due to approach any closer to the fence. One man heaved on a fallen branch, which acted as a giant door handle, and a huge oblong of turf rose up on hidden hinges. The men passed the deer carcases into the subteranean chamber, and then pushed a squealing Sheila down a stair after the precious carcases. One man was getting confused by my harness fastenings and the other two went down and left him to sort me out. "If you can't get her out of that web, shag her with the web still on, then cut her into manageable bits for us to get rid of ... We're going to start on this one!" and they closed the trap behind them. I looked at my prospective rapist with trepidation as he adjusted his knife after a failed attack on my leather harness, Suddenly - just in time like in a Hollywood film - the notional cavalry arrived. Two Landrovers screeched to a halt sandwiching my man and myself. Men brandishing shotguns grabbed my man and marched him away. Others looked left-to-right and around like lost souls at a railway station. I resisted being led away to safety and knocked over one of my erstwhile rescuers to go and stand on the hatchway and stamp my feet hard. The gamekeeper arrived in time to watch my performance, and cottoned on straight away. "Search underneath where the pony is standing!" he shouted at his minions, and I moved aside and pointed my head at the 'fallen' branch like a well trained drugs dog finding a scent. The hatchway quickly yielded to the combined clumsy attempts to lift it, and men with shotguns disappeared below ground. I waited impatiently to see Sheila reappear. Well-meaning men tried to walk me away, but I was a tiger ,and waited by the hatch. It was tempting to scoot down the steps at the hatchway, but the cart would have made a cork in the bottle and that would stop Sheila getting out. Eventually Sheila emerged untied and crying her eyes out - supported by two under-gamekeepers, and I trampled my way through everybody to nuzzle against her, and blow in her ear. She looked up at me through her tears, and reached out to hug me - crying even more intensely. "Oh, Fred - Oh, Fifi, that was horrible!" she complained and I felt a surge of hate for these poachers. Eventually, the game keeper permitted Barbara to come forward and join us. My two wives hugged me and each other as though crush us all into a mash, and then ignoring the excitement, I slowly pulled the cart back to our horsebox with a wife on each side of me hugging all the time. Sheila was in a mess - both her appearance and her psyche, so after Barbara had freed me from the cart we gently inserted Sheila into the car and drove home. The security gate was wide open - as left by the cavalry. Barbara waved once to Old Jenkins as he let us out of the main gate onto the highway. - - - - Barbara gave Sheila a sleeping draught, and she went out like a light before her head hit her pillow. We left her breathing gently with a smile on her face. "She'll sleep till noon with that dosage, Fifi. Do you have anything alcoholic in your room?" Barbara asked and I nodded, so we went and sat on my bed, and while I fetched the bottle, Barbara fetched the glasses. "No, mistress Barbara, I am fine! None of them touched me really. I was more worried for Sheila. Did she say that they didn't get anywhere?" I asked. "Those two with her just got into an interminable argument about who should have her first, and eventually ... neither one of them did!" "You know, Mistress Barbara, I think it has affected me ... I feel an overpowering tiredness!" I slurred. "Don't worry too much about that, sugar plum, I gave you a sleeping draft as well. Why do you think I suggested we sit on your bed?" Barbara's words halted as consciousness left me.