The Stallion - Bachelorette Party Part 1

[ZeeChromosome]

Yo: As far as I know, there are 4 parts to this. I've written three. Number four is on the way, but you'll get the first three in the next few days.

I'm gonna blame Jeepster for this. I had mentioned to him that I had this planned and he said, "Do it next!". Jeepster's a good guy, very supportive, so I want to support him back.

As always, thanks to Carl Bradford and Mr. Smith for being immensely supportive in my writing and kudos to Joe for inventing this sandbox we're playing in.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Dramatis Personae:
- The HH Golden Hammer, slave, racing pony stallion, former Human name Hank Sterkel
- Thanh, slave, Hammer's groom
- Perseverance ("Persa"), slave, racing pony filly, Ukrainian, former Human name Yevgeniya
- Sasha, slave, Perseverance's groom, also Ukrainian (Harriette's husband got a good price on a container-load while doing business in Crimea).
- Strongheart, slave, racing pony stallion, former Human name Deshonte Williams
- Lucy, slave, Strongheart's groom
- Meadowlark & Sparrow, pony girl slaves, Thanh's assistant deputy torturers
- Mistress Harriette Valdez, slave owner, owner of the HH Pony Ranch
- Caleb MacDougal, Harriette's favorite cowboy thug/henchman, looks like Wyatt Earp only tougher
- The Bride, Clarissa Bellefleur
- The Maid of Honor, Chantelle DuPonte
- Four Bridesmaids, one of whom is Guinevere (Gwen) Bellefleur
- Ten Assistant Evil Pony Deputy Torturers

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Setting the Scene:

The Golden Hammer hung on a wall in the ballroom of the HH Pony Ranch's main building. He wasn't a real hammer, of course, he was a human pony slave. More specifically, he was a pony stallion whose primary purpose in life was to run races for the glory of the HH Ranch and Mistress Harriette Valdez. And he wasn't hanging per se, he was bound to a pony equipping rack positioned against the wall of the ballroom. He was standing with his bare feet shoulder width apart and had wrists bound just behind his head. It wasn't an uncomfortable position for him. He spent a lot of time doing it, so it was no great hardship. Being a slave is mostly boring, since the slave needs to wait for their owners to notice them and give them orders.

Other than his leather wrist and ankle cuffs and his wide leather collar, he was entirely naked. Again, this was nothing special for Hammer, as he spent most days naked anyway. He was a tall young man with broad muscular shoulders, a chiseled torso, and thick muscular thighs.

There were several other equipping frames scattered about the room, some of which held other pony slaves, some of which were empty. One of these empty racks was directly in front of Hammer and he wondered what it was for. He gave a mental shrug at the thought. He would find out soon enough. Mistress Harriette did nothing without reason and she planned for every eventuality. Clearly some sort of orgy was brewing and he was looking forward to learning his part in it. Like most racing stallions, Hammer had a "no homo" clause in his slavery contract, so he knew that whatever his role turned out to be, it would involve putting his massive stallion cock into something warm and female. The anticipation kept his 10-and-a-quarter-inch member in a state of semi-hardness, bouncing gently in time with his heartbeat and breathing.

When Hank Sterkel, as Hammer used to be known, had voluntarily indentured himself to Mistress Harriette, he hadn't known much about the human pony racing business. On his second day of in-processing he had discovered that new pony stallions were normally injected with penisillin, a powerful drug that, over the course of several treatments, enlarged the genitalia of male human livestock. Due to the intensely painful nature of the procedure, the need for multiple treatments, and the likelihood of severe side effects (including death), it was illegal to use penisillin on humans. But slaves are not human, they are livestock. As a result, Hammer now had a penis about 50% larger than he had had when he was human. His balls had grown even larger proportionately and he now generated far more semen than any un-altered human male could ever achieve.

The HH Ranch was a full service pony ranch. It provided the same amenities as a typical resort - swimming pool, hot tubs, a spa, tennis courts, a golf course, and so on. Unlike typical resorts, though, it also featured human ponies - most of whom were pleasure slaves who spent their days dressed in pony harness and pulling carts for the guests to ride in before they inevitably serviced said guests sexually. As far as slavery prostitution businesses went, the Ranch, was relatively benign. In a typical slave brothel, slaves were often chained in place servicing literally dozens of customers per day, every day. Former slaves often emerged from such businesses broken in body and spirit... if they emerged at all.

But on pony ranches, the pleasure ponies spent their working days outdoors, getting healthy exercise, and eating right. They glowed with youthful vigor and good health. It was all part of the allure of pony play - athletic young pleasure slaves that the clients could drive around the track, the winding woodland trails, or the golf course before having sex with them.

Hammer wasn't a pleasure pony, though, he was a performance pony. Performance ponies are an entirely different breed of pony slave. They are professional athletes, strong in body, with spirits unbroken by the travails of modern legalized slavery. The Golden Hammer competed on the track for the glory and honor of the Ranch and his owner, Mistress Harriette Valdez. Beaten-down, broken-spirited slaves don't win races.

Mistress Harriette was currently in the ballroom with her high-heeled cowgirl boots up on the surface of an ornate mahogany desk. Normally for an event in the ballroom, Harriette wore appropriate attire like tailored skirt-suits for business functions and designer gowns for social events. Today she was wearing a black leather cowgirl outfit. Her shapely legs were tightly encased in soft, smooth black leather chaps decorated with silver medallions and she wore a black leather vest that was tied tightly in front with a leather cord, producing endless cleavage. On her hip she had a bullwhip made of supple black leather, the symbol of slaver power. Underneath her chaps she wore only a pair of black thong-style bikini bottoms. Underneath the vest she wore... nothing. When she had been walking around inspecting the preparations earlier, Hammer had been surprised to discover that not only did she have the HH Ranch brand on her exposed left buttock just like he did, but she also had a completely different brand on her right. Since he was quite certain that she had never been a slave, he wondered how she had gotten those brands.

At the moment she was reading a children's story out loud. Her audience was a group of smiling pleasure ponies wearing ordinary pony tack made of weathered but well-cared-for brown leather. Their torsos were encased in a web of leather strips that, when they were pulling carts, helped them carried the weight of the cart and rider. Rather than concealing their bodies like clothing would, it instead revealed and displayed their bodies in a sexualized manner. It also provided guests of the Ranch with convenient handholds for vigorous shafting.

Hammer was looking forward to some vigorous shafting tonight. Unlike pleasure ponies, who have frequent sex with the Ranch's clientele, performance ponies are normally denied sexual release during training periods, which might last for weeks at a time. It had been a couple of weeks since Hammer had last had relief and he felt that he had built up a pretty good load of fertile sperm to deliver in just the right place. This was yet another way in which stallions differed from ordinary slaves. Nearly all slaves - both male and female - were legally required to have long-term birth control implants. Stallions are an exception to that rule because... they're stallions.

Normally the pleasure ponies' bare breasts were decorated with sparkling golden bells that dangled from their pierced nipples. Today though, the ponies kneeling in a semicircle behind their Mistress's desk were wearing silver nipple shields that were attached by poking their nipples through a hole in the center of the shield and then pinned in place with a bar through their nipple piercings. These nipple shields were all in the shape of a 6-pointed star, similar to the sheriff's badge that Harriette was wearing on her snug leather vest.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Let's Play a Game:

Suddenly the ballroom door banged open and the Sheriff looked up from her book. A group of about a twenty people entered the room, led by a tall, rangy cowboy with a fierce Wyatt Earp mustache. "Sheriff!" he shouted in a prairie drawl as thick as his mustache's Western heritage, "We done caught them rustlers yew was lookin' fer! Bring 'em on in, boys!"

"Oh, now this is going to be fun," thought Hammer as he watched a group of HH Ranch hands march their "captives" into the room. The lead prisoner was wearing a wedding gown. She was fairly tall for a woman and had her thick glossy brown hair up in a bun, complete with a rhinestone tiara that said "Here cums the BRIDE" on it. Sparkling jewelry, arm-length satin opera gloves, perfect make up, and high heels completed the outfit. She also had a ball gag in her mouth and her arms were bound behind her back with wrist and elbow cuffs.

A lace mask concealed the upper half of her face. Although anyone who knew the girl would be able to see through her disguise, it did give her a degree of plausible deniability. And when it comes to pony play, plausible deniability is all you really need. Everybody involved in the Pony Ranchers Association either occasionally plays pony games themselves or they know someone who does. In order to maintain one's own social acceptance, one must pretend that the obvious is in fact an utter mystery. Nobody wants to be ostracized from the scene.

The other five prisoners were all wearing mismatched flowing gowns, suitable for a group of bridesmaids. It's surprising what you can pick up at consignment shops for twenty bucks. Hammer suspected that none of these dresses were going to survive the night in wearable condition. Like the bride, they also had their hair in elegant up-dos, wore sparkling jewelry, tiaras, and satin opera gloves. All were also wearing ball gags and had their gloved arms bound behind their backs.

The prisoners struggled in vain as the posse marched them into the room and forced them to their knees in front of the Sheriff's desk.

"One moment, Caleb," said Sheriff Harriette, "I need to finish this training session with my assistant torture deputies." With that, she re-opened her book, turned to the ponies behind her, and read, "Please! Please! Br'er Fox, Please oh please don't throw me in dat briar patch!"

Then she closed her book with a fwap and said to them, "Now, return to the vermin-infested torture dungeon and gather your torture devices, I think we're about to send some work your way."

Turning back the face the group in the front of her desk as the torture ponies ran off, Sheriff Harriette addressed her favorite cowboy thug/henchman. "What have we got here, Caleb?"

"Rustlers, Ma'am, we finally caught the Runaway Bride and her gang, the Bridesmaid Bandits!"

"I see," she replied calmly, looking at the group of festively-attired criminals. "I suppose we'll have to interrogate them at some point, but first, let's torture them. Off to the vermin-infested torture dungeon!"

Hammer watched from his bondage, curious to know how this game was going to play out. Thanh, his slave groom, arose from her perch at his feet and began making arrangements on the equipping rack across from him. One of the struggling bridesmaids was dragged in his direction. Since these were all clearly free women indulging in a BDSM fantasy, he knew that the struggle was merely for show and that she was most likely enjoying herself immensely. It was hard to tell from her facial expression, though, with the lace mask concealing the upper part of her face and the ball gag distorting her lipstick-painted lips into a slave grin.

The "deputies" quickly pinned the girl up against the equipping rack across from Hammer and fastened her arms over her head, leaving her body in a Y shape. Thanh bound her ankles and she was left in a position similar to Hammer and directly across from him. Two of the torture ponies knelt on either side of the pinned girl and began rummaging through their bags, presumably in search of torture tools of some sort. Sheriff Harriette and Boss Caleb walked around the various frames inspecting bindings. After referring to their clipboards, they gave instructions to the head torturers. All of head torturers were female slave grooms wearing collars and leather vests with deputy badges on them. Now that the prisoners were bound in place, the ranch hands walked away and started playing poker at a couple of tables nearby. It was clear from the way they sat down, adjusting their junk, that most of them were nursing hard-ons. Although all of them were accustomed to handling naked slaves on a daily basis, manhandling a group of well-dressed free women had to be a fun change of pace for them.

Sheriff Harriette approached the two frames where Thanh was in charge. Although Thanh was merely a naked slave groom, she was in charge of ensuring that this particular bridesmaid had a fun evening. Slaves have no authority in their own person, but they can act with the authority of their owners when under direct orders. Harriette came over and showed her the contents of her clipboard, which caused Thanh to suddenly grin wickedly in delight. Hammer took that as a good sign. His throbbing penis, which had slowly risen to full mast while watching the "rustlers" brought in, fully agreed with him.

The bound bridesmaid looked across the gap between them and her eyes widened. It was one thing to see a naked stallion out training or racing on the track from a distance, but to see that massive stallion cock rising to attention while pointed directly at you from only a few feet away had to be a bit disconcerting. Hammer tried to smile reassuringly at her, but her eyes were fixated about three feet below his face. Free women who paid for a stallion breeding didn't always realize precisely what they were signing up for.

Harriette stepped up to the girl and looked into her eyes from a few inches away. She asked her a question and the girl shook her head "no". Harriette then pulled her ball gag out of her mouth. The strap holding it in was somewhat elastic and this time Hammer heard his Mistress ask the same question again, "Do you need to use your safe word?" The girl said "No" out loud this time and Harriette released the ball so it plunged back into her mouth with a pop, eliciting a startled "Mmph!" and a scowl.

Mistress Harriette chuckled evilly and told Thanh, "She's all yours," before walking away, still chuckling.

Thanh turned and looked at Hammer with an odd facial expression that he interpreted as "Check this out, she gets a 'safe word'." Slaves don't have safe words, they simply obey whatever perverted sexual demands are made upon them. Theoretically, slaves CAN refuse to comply, but then they'll just be punished and have to do it anyway. Thanh had been a slave for almost a year and had been required to do many things that she would never have considered doing as a free woman. This girl, this free girl, she had choices. Then Thanh's wicked smile slowly returned. Hammer interpreted THAT smile as meaning, "Well, if she wants it, she gets it."

Thanh turned and gestured to her two assistant torturers. "Meadowlark, Sparrow, we've got a job to do. This rustler needs to tell Sheriff Harriette where the gang hid their ill-gotten gains. But she won't talk unless we torture her first. Actually she might, but let's go ahead torture her anyway."

Guinevere Bellefleur looked down at the trio in a mixture of trepidation and excitement. She really had no idea how Harriette planned to conduct the orgy. Each of the bridal party's participating girls had given Harriette a secret list of what they wanted to make sure happened and a list of things that were off-limits. Gwen's list of wants was quite short. She wanted to "ride the Golden Hammer like the stallion that he is" and "kiss him all over." Her list of limits was equally short, "no anal sex" and "no other penises anywhere near my vagina." The group's across-the-board limits were that the dresses stayed on throughout the orgy and that there would be no pictures taken.

Gwen had known Harriette her whole life and she was quite certain that there would be plenty of sexy surprises before the end of the night. She was looking forward to discovering what those sexy surprises were, but the facial expressions of the three naked slaves looking up at her sent nervous tingles of fearful anticipation down her spine. It made other parts of her tingle, as well. That surprised her, because she had never been one for playing dominance and submission games. Part of that was the fact that the boys at her university were utterly unworthy. She had no intention of submitting to any man ever, and too many of her peers had grown up living a life of privilege with easy access to naked slave girls whenever they wanted one. They never seemed to bother with seduction or foreplay, instead going directly to making sexual demands as soon as they had her in a private location. Some didn't even wait for that. Gwen had even been on first dates where the boy had simply reached over, taken her hand, and placed it on the crotch-bulge of his pants, usually within minutes of meeting her and sitting down. And yet here she was, fully-clothed, elegantly accoutered, coiffed, made up... and bound to a torture rack with three naked slave girls looking up at her like their favorite new Christmas present.

Of course, the first thing that one does with a Christmas present is unwrap it. "Fortunately," she thought, "the dresses have to stay on, so there's not much they can do to me there."

Her hopes were dashed immediately.

"Girls," the wickedly-smiling torturer in the middle said in her deepest Texas accent. "Ah'm pretty sure this here filly is wearin' wa-a-y too much clothing," as she pulled a scissors out of her equipment belt. The two assistant torturers nodded vigorously. They were naked every day. This girl wore clothing every day. It was time to balance the scales. Karma demanded it.

"Grab that there hemline and pull it tight!"

As her assistants did so, Thanh began to snip the hem, then she swiftly ran the half-open scissors directly upward with a tearing sound as she cut a slit in what had suddenly ceased to be an expensive article of forbidden clothing.

Gwen stared in horror as the sharp scissors rent the luxurious fabric on a path directly toward her vagina. As the scissors approached her frightened kitty, the slave girl slowed down and then gently poked Gwen right in the crotch of her panties.

"Boop!" she said, smiling upward in delight.

Gwen couldn't believe it, this, this impertinent slave girl had just ruined her nice dress and, sure it was an old bridesmaid dress from a wedding that had taken place the previous summer and she was unlikely to ever wear it again, but still! She started to express her outrage with vigorous angry squirming.

"Nuh uh!" interjected the slave, still looking up at her. "No twitching! This here scissors is plenty sharp and you don't want me to accidentally cut off somethin' you might have a use for later!"

Now Gwen was really agog. They had not only destroyed her dress, but they had threatened to cut off her clitoris! Hadn't they? She froze in place and stopped wiggling.

Observing the interaction from outside of the four girls' sightline, Mistress Harriette nodded in approval. Gwen had always been a willful one, and seeing her controlled so easily by three naked slave girls was probably going to be one of her favorite memories from this evening's festivities. Elsewhere in the room, every other member of the bridal party was losing her skirt, including the bride. In the bride's case, that was taking a lot of cutting, and scraps of white satin cloth were flying all over. She glanced over at her favorite stallion and saw that Hammer seemed to be enjoying the show that Thanh was putting on. Harriette chuckled to herself, "As if his cock could get any harder than that." She had purposely denied him sexual relief for two weeks now in order to make this event as fun as possible for everyone. It would have been inappropriate and unwise for Harriette to ever have actual intercourse with one of her stallions, but she often brought one or more of her prized performance ponies to social and business events and displayed them in the exact position that Hammer was in right now. At these events, Harriette had often publicly fondled Hammer to an erection while chatting with her peers and she was always impressed with how incredibly rigid his tool became.

Perseverance, her best female racing pony, was another frequent display at parties. Her lanky musculature was an excellent conversation starter for women interested in getting physically fit, perhaps via pony play, perhaps at Harriette's ranch. A former member of the Ukrainian National Basketball team, she had what were quite possibly the longest legs that Harriette had ever seen on a female pony. When she was wearing pony boots, which added a good 6 inches to her height, she made a dramatic showpiece. Right now, Perseverance had her long muscular arms and legs wrapped around the bride's corseted waist while her assigned torturers enthusiastically destroyed the skirt of her wedding dress with their flashing scissors. The bride had specified that she was not to be bound to anything this evening, she was instead to be physically restrained throughout by the athletic racing filly. Judging from the expressions on their faces, the two of them were both enjoying the role-reversal very much. Harriette was looking forward to seeing the look on the bride's face when Perseverance introduced her to her vibrating strapon... and the further surprise on her face when she discovered that it was in fact a THREE pronged vibrating strapon that Harriette had bought especially for this occasion.

Now that Thanh had her torture victim under control, she quickly snipped off the excess skirt fabric and tossed it aside. Meadowlark picked up the piece of discarded fabric, folded it neatly, and set it down next to her equipment bag. Hoping no one was watching her, she caressed the smooth luxurious cloth gently before turning back to her work. It had been so long since she had worn clothing and the scrap of cloth was even softer and smoother than the dress she had worn to her homecoming dance a seeming lifetime ago. In a way, it really had been a lifetime ago, as she had been living a completely different life as a free girl growing up in the suburbs, with different rules and expectations of her behavior. Although she had signed up for pony life willingly in the hopes of earning money for college, there were a lot of things that she missed about being human and not mere property. Wearing pretty dresses was one of them.

When Meadowlark reluctantly turned back to business, she saw that Thanh and Sparrow were gazing in wonder at what their dressecration had wrought. The prisoner was wearing lace-topped stockings and, revealed by a quick peek under her now-mini skirt... panties. Six hands moved toward the forbidden garments without hesitation.

Gwen, who had always been a free woman with body-autonomy, was quite taken aback by the sudden assault from six caressing, gentle, feminine hands that rubbed themselves up and down her stockinged legs and - repeatedly - across the tight satin front of her lavender panties. Although she had originally bought the panties months ago specifically to match this particular dress, she had done it full-knowing that no one but herself would ever see them. She had only done so out of the innate feminine instinct to match her garments.

"Feel that, girls?" said Thanh wonderingly, "This is what money feels like. These aren't $6.99 JC Penney stockings, these are the real deal. They only sell these in shops where they charge you an air tax just for walking in the door. So, that having been said, do we let her keep them, or do we tear them off?"

Gwen stared down at the saucy little groom in alarm, how dare she decide to dispose of Gwen's garments? She was just a slave, it was not her right to... she saw the girl turn and look directly at the Golden Hammer. Distracted by the activities of the impertinent trio, Gwen had almost forgotten the entire reason why she was here. She looked in his direction and saw... that he was well-pleased. Suddenly happy again, she smiled back at him behind her gag but he didn't notice! His attention was solely focused about two or three feet below her face. Her happiness quickly turned to displeasure. He was supposed to be focused on Gwen, not her thighs. Although they were in fact Gwen's thighs, so maybe he WAS focused on her. But Gwen's thighs were not Gwen they were just a physical attribute of Gwen and... now she was getting angry because her stupid thighs were so sexy and it wasn't her fault that they were distracting Hammer from his true purpose in life which was falling madly and hopelessly in love with her and... AHH!

Thanh noticed that her torture victim was getting restless and distracted, so she settled her down by doing what she always did with distracted ponies, she flicked her with a finger on the sensitive area of her inner thigh. Ignoring the incipient rebellion of the now-upset prisoner, she gave orders to her two assistants. "Hammer likes the stockings, so she can keep them on. Meadowlark! That shoe, take it off! Spinner, same thing, get it off!" She finished hooking pull cables to the unsuspecting free woman's ankle cuffs as she gave the rapid-fire commands.

Suddenly Gwen felt herself rising in the air as the ankle-cables lifted and split her legs to ridiculous heights! "Mmph!" she exclaimed, and "Mmpth! Mmpth!" for emphasis!

Ignoring the angry rustler's unintelligible outburst, Thanh quickly fitted a cheek pad under each upraised buttock and secured the girl's outstretched stockinged legs in place. The now-minidress-clad slut was secured on the rack with her arms raised and her legs spread wide in a frozen parody of a cheerleader's jump-split.

Thanh was very pleased.

She turned and checked with the Hammer. Yes, Hammer was loving it, too. She had seen that look quite a few times. Ordinarily, stallions were simple creatures. Eat, run, race, fuck. That's an entire sentence, by the way. Hammer had been Thanh's responsibility since his first day as an indentured slave. She knew that he had hidden depths, but... he was still a man. And all men were at least partially driven by their lusts. Right now, at this moment, the Hammer was completely overtaken with desire. That was good. Now Thanh just needed to close the deal and make it happen.

Meadowlark took the confiscated high heels and placed them side by side on her piece of lavender cloth. They looked happy there and she resisted the urge to give them fond little pats. There were too many eyes about right now. Maybe the free girl would forget about them and nobody would notice if they disappeared.

But right now, she had a job to do. She grabbed a few torture tools and returned to work. She saw that Thanh had secured the rustler with her legs in a horizontal split and each stocking-clad leg was spread wide. Meadowlark went to work on her assigned foot and began to massage it in preparation for torturing. Spinner was working on her foot, too. The two assistant torturers grinned at each other and looked up at the face of their squirming victim. Meadowlark chose her first torture device - a feather fan - and slowly began running it up and down one satiny stockinged thigh, eliciting yet more squirms and moans from her victim. Spinner chose a different tool - a pronged wheel on a wooden handle - and began rolling it gently across the girl's exposed inner thigh. The deep evolutionary origin of ticklishness is as a defensive mechanism against insects. The prongs of the wire wheel perfectly mimicked the sensation of prickly bug feet crawling across her bare skin. The ponies had had tremendous fun training for this event by practicing on each other and they knew exactly what they needed to do in order to transform the haughty free girl into a laughing, convulsing mess.

Elsewhere in the room, they heard a shriek and panicked, sobbing laughter, "No! No! Stop! Aaaaah!" It seemed that at least one of the other torture teams had decided not to keep their victim gagged.

Thanh continued to supervise her assistant torturers while standing with the palm of her hand firmly placed on the satiny crotch of her victim's panties. She really enjoyed the sensation of touching the fine cloth. She was also enjoying the way that the satin was becoming increasingly drenched with the girl's fluids as the criminal wiggled and squirmed beneath the expert tickle-torture. Thanh assisted in the process by making slow circular motions with her palm and thumb. The gasping and wriggling girl's clitoris continued to firm up under her ministrations and Thanh could feel it pressing into the center of her palm through the thin cloth.

For her part, Gwen was utterly mortified at the slyly-grinning slave's actions. This was her most private place, and it was completely exposed and under someone else's power. Not just anyone, but a slave girl! All of her instincts screamed at her to clamp her thighs shut and protect her sensitive core, but that option was unavailable. As a free woman, the impulse to protect her modesty had always been available to her for her entire life, but now it wasn't. She couldn't be sure if that loss of control was what was exciting her or not, but the sheer eroticism of what was being done to her was undeniable.

"Thanh!"

Thanh startled at the sound of her Mistress's voice. She was doing everything right!

Sheriff Harriette was standing over to one side. "Thanh, you're letting an opportunity go to waste," she said, as she nodded in the Hammer's direction.

Thanh spun about and immediately noticed what she had been too distracted by cum-drenched satin to see earlier. Driven beyond endurance by the scene in front of him, the Golden Hammer's magnificent cock had begun to leak pre-cum. A glistening globule of the stuff had gathered on the end of his cock and was threatening to fall to the floor... wasted.

Alarmed, Thanh whirled about and caught the droplet of clear fluid before it could reach the ground. She knew that his penisillin-enhanced prostate was working hard to produce the next batch and she immediately began to milk the entire length of his cock to get as much of it as possible. She was rewarded with a pool of clear pre-cum in the palm of her hand. But what to do with it? She glanced over at her Mistress and saw her eyes flicker toward the pinioned bridesmaid. A smile flickered across Thanh's face before disappearing by the time she had turned back around to face her victim.

Gwen watched the impertinent slave steal HER Hammer's pre-cum from her. She was already supposed to FINALLY be riding that stallion cock and goddamn Harriette was dragging this out and not letting her... the impertinent slave in question clambered up the equipping frame and stared her in the eye. From inches away. Gwen gave the girl her best glare in return. One of her assistant torturers was with her. The annoying Asian girl nodded to the smaller one and she pulled Gwen's ball gag out and tucked it under her chin. Gwen opened her mouth to give the smiling slave a piece of her mind... and had a palmful of pre-cum slapped onto her open mouth.

"Lick!" commanded the naked girl poised over her. Gwen quickly and obediently licked the girl's palm. So caught up in the scene, she didn't even notice that she had unhesitatingly obeyed a slave-command... from a slave. "Swallow!" commanded the girl and Gwen immediately swallowed. It was salty and creamy and good and... it was the Hammer's.

Caught up in savoring the salty cream, Gwen didn't notice the naked slave girl turn to look at her Mistress and receive an approving nod in return. She also didn't see Harriette beckon two of the card-playing grooms over to their location. It was time to make Gwen's dreams come true.

Thanh leapt off the equipping frame and landed gracefully on her bare feet like the high school gymnast she had been only a year ago. Without explanation or permission, she pulled Gwen's cum-slicked panties away from her body and - snip, snip - cut them off. Gwen was too discombobulated at this point to even protest as the unruly slave destroyed yet another expensive article of her clothing. All she did was squeak in surprise as Thanh snatched the ruined panties away, exposing her overheated snatch to the air-conditioned ballroom air. Thanh then stepped aside and looked pointedly up at Hammer to get his approval. He was smiling and nodding. This was the gift that was being delivered to him tonight and he liked it a lot.

"Meadowlark! Get her off, I want to see her O-face!" commanded Thanh, prompting one of her assistants to immediately clamp her mouth on the helpless bridesmaid's fully-exposed vagina. Meadowlark also slipped two fingers into the girl's weeping orifice and began pumping them in and out as she sucked determinedly on the girl's clit. It didn't take long for the over-stimulated bridesmaid to begin humping and whimpering her way through an extended orgasm. Although her ball gag had been removed, she didn't cry out as she clamped her eyes and mouth shut in an effort to appear at least a teensy bit non-slutty. But when she opened them, she knew it had all been in vain, as two of Harriette's male slave wranglers were standing in front of her with huge grins on their faces.

"Yup Jimmy, that's some pure whorishness right there," said one, "These rustlers are all like that, I hear."

The trio of torturers was a whirlwind of motion as they removed the panting bridesmaid from her bondage and the two men caught her staggering post-orgasmic form as she wobbled off the platform. "Now," thought Gwen, "I'm going to go get what I came here..." Two pairs of rough male hands lifted her bodily up onto the platform holding the Hammer's bondage rack.

"Hey now!" she began, "I was just about to..."

"Quiet, rustler!" snarled one of the men into her ear, "Yer not done bein' torchered yit!" While the two men were holding her against the restrained stallion's chest, Thanh and the other two torturers quickly bound her in place with her upraised hands behind Hammer's neck and then, boosting her legs up, they placed her stockinged feet into stirrups on either side of the Hammer's hips.

Gwen's mind was whirling. One moment she had been standing in front of the object of her desire and then, without any voluntary decision on her part, she was suddenly plastered up against him and bound in place. One moment she had been wondering if her make up had been smeared by the ball gag and the next instant... her painted lips were inches from his face. She pressed down with her feet into the comfortable stirrups, raising herself upward along his body, the thin material of the dress the only thing between them... and she kissed him. Finally.

It was a good kiss. She wasn't sure how it would go. In fact, it had worried her quite a bit. What if he didn't want to kiss her? Kissing, simple kissing, is one of the most emotionally intimate acts that a couple can do. Most commercial sex slaves avoid it if at all possible and if not, they treat it as a mere physical act, not as an act of intimacy. But the Hammer wasn't a sex slave, he was a performance slave. He hadn't kissed anyone - voluntarily or involuntarily - since well before his enslavement over six months ago. He kissed her back.

Slowly the rack began to tilt back into a 45 degree angle with Gwen still bound on top of the muscular stallion. As her weight distribution changed, pressing her more firmly against his torso, she became acutely aware of the ridiculously-large and rock-hard shaft of man meat pressed between their abdomens. She raised herself up a few inches and looked down at it apprehensively. Was that thing even going to fit? Maybe she hadn't thought this whole thing through?

Said penis was completely unperturbed by her astonished gaze, its single eye winking back at her and drooling yet another gobbet of pre-cum. When she had been pressed against Hammer a few moments earlier, it had gushed additional fluid onto her lavender dress, leaving an obvious stain. Well, it wasn't like she was going to be able to wear this thing again, anyway.

She looked back at Hammer's face and he winked at her, as if to say "We'll make it fit."

"Meadowlark, Spinner! Tits out! Hammer needs boobies!" At Thanh's command, the two assistant torturers scaled the torture rack and unceremoniously pulled apart the cleavage of Gwen's dress, exposing her breasts to the heated gaze of the lust-filled pony stallion she was bound on top of. Gwen fully approved of this unexpected development and immediately dangled her breasts on front of the grinning stallion's mouth. The torturers assisted by helping her pop her stiff nipples into his mouth as he traded off between breasts, giving each of them the attention they craved.

Gwen gasped with pleasure as he drew each one into his mouth as he gazed up at her. When she had first told Harriette that she wanted to "Ride Hammer like the stallion he is", she had imagined doing this exact thing. But in her fantasy, it had been her feeding her breasts to him with her own hands while they were entwined in a private bedroom, not in public with two slave girls fondling her exposed breasts. But it was hot, it was sexy, it more than met expectations. Electric thrills of lust and desire originated in her breasts and ran through her body.

Behind and underneath Gwen, Thanh repositioned herself to look up the bridesmaid's ruined skirt. No longer a flowing ankle length dress, it was now a miniskirt at best. In this position, with her stockinged thighs pulled up on either side of Hammer's hips, the girl's entire vagina and rectum were exposed to Thanh's approving gaze. Thanh reached out, wrapped her hand around Hammer's pulsating shaft, and raised it up to threaten Gwen's exposed pussy. Now she just needed to wait for the girl to impale herself. It didn't take long.

When Gwen pulled back a bit from alternately treating Hammer to her nipples and lips, she was surprised to discover that the massive cock had moved and was now poised at the entrance of her sopping vagina. Hammer smiled up at her knowingly as he felt the head of his penis lodge itself firmly between her swollen pussy lips. This girl, whoever she was, had the most remarkable blue-gray eyes that he had ever seen. From this distance the flimsy disguise of the lace mask was meaningless, and he watched as those beautiful eyes widened in surprise. Then... they narrowed in determination as she began to press herself downward onto his masculine weapon of vaginal destruction. Her vagina, which was normally tight enough to firmly wrap around just one of her slender fingers, slowly began to stretch itself to accommodate the incredible intruder. She gasped and moaned with the pleasure of newly-discovered sensations as the largest cock she had ever encountered slowly pressed ever-deeper into the never-before-penetrated depths of her lower abdomen. She felt like it was going to reach right through her body and into her chest.

It was too much. Having only reached half the distance to the base of the stallion's cock, she began to slowly raise herself back up, retreating up the shaft. When she reached the top, she looked back down at his face and said, "We're going to try that again, okay?"

Bound in place as he was, there wasn't really a whole lot of choice in the matter for him, but he nodded enthusiastically even so. Also, because he was wearing the type of electronic pony collar which converted all intelligible speech to animal noises, he couldn't communicate using words. But he could communicate with facial expressions, and everything about his face told Gwen that he was eager for her to continue.

Continue she did, slowly and steadily increasing the depth of her lunges as she began to warm up and as the walls of her vagina became accustomed to the massive pole. Finally she reached the bottom and Hank could feel her pubic hair lightly ticking the smoothly-shaven skin of his pubic mound. The girl with beautiful eyes gazed up at him in happiness at her success in taking almost all of his cock and she slowly raised herself to give him another lingering kiss on the lips. The sights and sounds of the rest of the activity in the ballroom seemed to fade away for Hank, much like the roar of the crowd vanished as he raced for the finish line on the track. When he was racing, nothing mattered to him except the finish line and the next hoof-fall taking him there. Right now, there was no finish line, only beautiful eyes and smiling, kissable lips.

Gwen leaned back, again hilting herself on his shaft with a satisfied moan. She then turned and looked down at her torturers. "Could one of you please come up here and remove my hair sticks? I'd like to whip my hair back and forth."

At a nod from Thanh, Sparrow climbed back up and removed the tiara and hair sticks, allowing the bridesmaid's cloud of thick curls to fall into a jasmine-scented cape covering her back and tickling Hammer's muscular flanks. The lace mask remained on, though, and continued to conceal the girl's upper face from onlookers. With the promise of anonymity comes the freedom to act on one's base desires.

Gwen quickly resumed her up and down strokes, whipping her dark mane back and forth as she gazed down at Hammer in wonder. She had him! She was finally riding him! He was her stallion! Harriette had to share him with her now, she just had to! Her earlier attempts to not appear wanton were forgotten. She no longer cared who might be watching and listening as she rode her stallion and surrendered herself to her second orgasm of the night while releasing full-throated cries of pleasure.

Gwen sank down again onto her stallion's chest gasping for breath as she felt a seeming unending stream of semen being pumped into her fertile womb. Her thighs burned with exertion. Her convulsing vagina burned with temporarily sated lust. She laid her head on one of his sweating pectorals and listened to the drumbeat of the Golden Hammer's heart as they recovered their breath.

After a few moments, she raised herself back up and shook her hair out into a veil on either side of her head while gazing down at his well-satisfied face. Then, taking care to ensure that the veil of hair hid their faces from any potential onlookers, she kissed him again. Whereas before, her kisses had primarily been lustful, these kisses were different. Concealed from prying eyes, granting the stallion that most rare and precious of gifts for a slave - privacy - she kissed him gently and lovingly. "That was wonderful," she whispered, "Thank you for that gift, I will treasure it always."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
End Part 1 of The Stallion - Bachelorette Party

There's more.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

[Carl Bradford]

As I've told the author in e-mails, his writing is getting progressively better. Once you accept the premise of his story (willing suspension of disbelief), I find the characters enormously engaging and believable. Please keep it up--reading it certainly keeps me up!

[mikey22]

Damn! I wish my stories was this good!
Loved the part where the girl gets her dress cut off.
That’s good stuff.

[jeepster]

Awesome chapter! Can't wait for the next!

[ZeeChromosome]

Loved the part where the girl gets her dress cut off.

Thanks, I had fun writing it. It just shows that you don't have to be mean about stripping someone. It can be fun and cute, too, while retaining the power-reversal and humiliation factors.

I think my favorite line in this section is "Gwen started to express her outrage with vigorous angry squirming." That entertains me because I'm imagining her angry glare, ball-gagged mouth, her absolute certainty in her own superiority over the impertinent slave girls... and her complete helplessness to do anything about it other than "vigorous angry squirming".

Thanks for the compliment, I appreciate your support. I hope you enjoy the rest of it just as much. Parts one and two are pure orgy, part three will be mostly plot. Haven't written part four yet, but it should be more balanced between plot and sex.

Please don't hesitate to contact me if there are any other things that you especially did or didn't like. I'm still growing into my writing style since this is all so new to me.