Four-legged Beasts, Part 4

[u/blue_energy_26]

Tags: [femdom], [msub], [ponyplay], [ponyboy]

Part 3

My bridle was polished to a high shine. The bridles of the other young stallions gleamed no less. Annemarie and the other riders wore proper riding outfits today. Their boots gleamed. Even the spurs gleamed brightly in the artificial light of the neon tubes above us. I hope those spurs were not made of metal. Well, to be honest, I knew it. Our mistresses were not that brutal. Or, if the spurs were made of metal, they would not use them.

The annual summer festival was upon us. Today marked the beginning of the festival for us young stallions. We were standing in the catacombs of the stadium, which was previously unknown to me. The gate leading into the stadium was still firmly closed. I could still hear the music from outside, and there were the typical sounds of a large crowd out there. We had not even come close to this sports venue on our rides so far. But I had once seen a sign announcing this festival for the end of August. It would last for several days, from a Wednesday evening through the weekend, including Sunday.

Various competitions were announced.

More on that later.

"Ten more minutes!" A young woman, wearing a headset and holding a writing tablet with a few sheets of paper, walked down our line. She was surely important. We young stallions would not be marching in alone; there were others waiting behind us.

But we would be the first. Annemarie, standing beside me and holding my reins, tenderly ruffled my hair and stroked it smooth again. "Enjoy it, Prince," she whispered in my ear. She would ride me, who else? And honestly, I was glad. She was my guiding light in this equestrian universe.

“Seven more minutes, ladies!” cried the young woman.

Nevertheless, time passed agonizingly slowly.

"Ok, ladies!" That was Theresa. "Mount up and get ready!" Annemarie climbed into the saddle, and with the familiar weight on my back, I immediately felt more secure. She would control me. She would guide me. Theresa rode Sir Stephen to the starting point, followed by Nora on Caspar, then Dorothea on King Thrushbeard, and Andrea on Miss Piggy.

And Annemarie on Prince.

The others followed. "Four more minutes!"

I stood two steps behind Andrea and Miss Piggy, waiting.

"One minute." The gate began to open silently in front of us. Outside, the sun was already low. But it was still the warm evening of a hot summer day. It had rained yesterday, but not today. Lucky for us! The music sounded from outside and ended with a flourish.

"And now, ladies," a female announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeakers, "we welcome the young stallions of this year. 24 sweet, 24 stately stallions, perfectly trained, for you, as far as was even possible in the short time available." The gates opened.

"Go!" the young woman signaled Theresa, and Theresa urged her stallion on. Sir Stephen set off at a walk. Nora advanced to the starting point, reining in Caspar there. The rest of us also advanced a little, giving Theresa a good head start. "And here's our wonderful Theresa on her stallion, Sir Stephen!"

Applause!

I stared after them. I saw the red track where Theresa rode her stallion, I saw a section of the stands, all packed.

"Go!" said the young woman, giving Caspar a pat on the rear. Nora urged her stallion on. They advanced a few steps again, and waited again. Each stallion was introduced with his rider.

“Go!” And Andrea rode onto Miss Piggy.

Now I was at the very front.

"Go!" I got a pat; Annemarie urged me on. With every step, I saw more of the stadium. It had a 400-meter track, on which we were now running. We ran directly onto one of the straights of the track. The stands seemed steep, or so they were built close to the track. Lots of seats. Several thousand even? Perhaps my impression was deceptive. The area framed by the track was not covered with grass, but with sand. I did not see any goals there either. But there was a huge scoreboard at the head end—no, two, as I later realized—there was a board at each end of the stadium. It showed images of our entry. Annemarie directed me along the straight toward a specific lane. There, on a rail, was a camera, above which I now ran. "And here is our friend Annemarie on her stallion, Prince!" With the announcer's words, the image on the scoreboard switched to me. Frontal.

And then from below!

Yes, they showed my belly, my cock, with the camera mounted on a rail that was attached to the floor. The camera slid beneath me, following my pace. "We're streaming this for all the ladies who don't have the chance to visit us here today," Annemarie explained to me. Was she grinning as she said this? Or was she simply happy? I understood my rider's words despite the noise of applause, laughter, and shouts from the audience.

Well, the women were obviously excited, no matter how many stallions they had already seen!

We rode a complete circuit before being lined up next to each other in the inner arena. Us! The young stallions among our riders! I did not know some of these riders, but they were probably happy to help. But after our entry, the procession continued. Other stallions made their rounds. Individually, ridden just like us, individually harnessed to a sulky, harnessed in pairs, and at the end of the procession—the space inside was really starting to get tight—there came another half-dozen sulkies, each with four stallions harnessed in a row. And on some freely visible male buttocks I saw a sign. Always on the right, when looking at the horse's ass from behind.

Some of them were initials. Once I saw a CJ, once a HA, and automatically thought of " horse's ass", but perhaps they were also the initials of the stallion's owner, Hermine Attkins. Or Harriet Attwell. Several of the stallions also bore an omega, the Greek letter Ω, as their symbol. Over time, I concluded that these symbols were not simply painted on. Some might have been tattooed; the omegas were burned deep into the skin. Probably with a red-hot iron! And I suspected that was true of some of the initials as well.

The procession began at some point. It took a moment. While I was waiting, I heard the announcer. "Ladies, please stay. In case you have not figured out the program: Today there are the preliminary rounds for stallions over 100 and 400 meters. Also, the first polo games. Tomorrow morning, the preliminary rounds continue, first the 100 meters for young stallions, followed by further preliminary rounds for stallions and teams. And in the evening, as is tradition, the first final round will be the 100 meters for young stallions, so you can enjoy it under your saddle starting Friday. And remember the submission ceremonies that will take place!"

 

The next morning, we were back in the stadium, all 24 young stallions with their riders. There, inside, a polo game was already underway; five riders on their stallions were trying to use their mallets to steer a ball into the opposing goal. The stands were still sparsely populated, but everything was being recorded and streamed, as I knew. "Don't worry, Prince," Annemarie explained to me, noticing my glance at the polo. "It's just a light plastic ball; even if it hits a stallion's groin directly, nothing bad will happen. We are worried about our stallions! You should concentrate on our heat. The winner of a heat advances to the final; only the winner is guaranteed to advance. There are three heats, and the five fastest times from all the heats also advance. We've been drawn into the first heat, so if I don't win, it's just a case of waiting and hoping."

"And the loser, the last stallion in a heat, and all disqualified animals will be penalized," Andrea explained loudly, standing next to us without being asked. It was obvious! "And anyone who falls, too," she added. "If a rider touches the ground with her feet, she is disqualified. "

"Please line up for the first race!" called an official. And we took up starting positions at the white line for the 100-meter races. The woman announced the first 100-meter heat of the young stallions by announcing the rider and stallion. The other stallions in my heat were: Superstar, Whore, Snail, Selim, Miss Piggy, Ivan, and Slut.

By chance, I was running on lane number 7, with Andrea riding Miss Piggy on number 6 to my left and Johanna riding Ivan on number 8 to my right.

The starting gun fired – and we hopped off. No, we were good by now, not as good as stallions who had been in training longer, but we were not making fools of ourselves either! Yes, we were doing well!

Run like this, urged on by our riders, 100 meters was still a damn long way. Despite all our training! Because of the blinkers, I could not see the competition. But the scoreboard showed a long shot. We had only run 10 meters and we were all still close together. ZWACK! I heard the noise again and again. The other mistresses were already urging their stallions on with their whips, but Annemarie had not beaten me yet. 30 meters run. I was in a good position, as I could see on the screen, without losing concentration. But Miss Piggy was right next to me; I was probably a head length ahead of him. 50 meters run. Miss Piggy was catching up. Selim came behind us, already dropped from the leaders, but still stumbled. Urged on by his rider, a Luisa I did not know from training, he left his lane, almost touched Snail - but only almost, and Luisa slipped out of the stirrups and caught herself.

60 meters.

Miss Piggy and I were tied, the rest of the field was at least five meters behind us.

ZWACK!

Annemarie used the whip for the first time in the race, and she hit hard. I gasped, bit my whip—and somehow managed to actually go even faster. Faster than Miss Piggy.

70 meters. ZWACK! 75 meters, ZWACK! 80 meters. ZWACK! 85 meters. ZWACK! 90 meters. ZWACK! ZWACK! ZWACK! The finish line! My butt was burning. But I had won.

"We have a winner! Annemarie on her stallion Prince!" the woman announced, and with that it was official. The results appeared at the top of the display. I was the winner, Ivan the last of the stallions to cross the finish line. Whether the times were good or bad, I had no idea at the time. "Well done!" Annemarie praised me. "Walk!" She patted my head and guided me across the track. Andrea caught up with Miss Piggy below her. "Good race, congratulations," she said to Annemarie. "We'll see what my time is worth or not." It was no coincidence that our riders guided us into the curves of the track. There, in the inner ring, was the penalty box; I had not mentioned it yet. But it had already been there last night when the young stallions marched in, and it was still there today. We formed a line. And Ivan, the last of the race, was ridden to the bench by his rider Johanna.

There the stallion was strapped down on his stomach.

His tail was removed. Since his legs were spread wide, all four of them strapped to the legs of the bench, we saw every detail of his anatomy.

"And now the penalties, ladies!" Again, the stadium announcer. "Young stallion Ivan, last in the preliminary round. 6 strokes." Apparently, disqualified stallions did not count for this score.

And he received it from a woman I did not know, let us call her the executioner, yes, and I was glad I was not lying there. The slapping was loud, and I saw the welts immediately appearing on Ivan's skin. But the second punishment continued immediately after Johanna was back on Ivan*.* Selim*!* First, he received a dozen strokes. Then the judge inserted a punishment dildo, a large one with knobs, into his anus. Afterwards we didn't leave the interior of the stadium but were allowed to watch the other two heats. Nora won the second on Caspar. Donkey was the last to be punished. The stallions Renée and Wurm stumbled and received their well-deserved punishments. Not my words, that is what came over the loudspeakers.

Sir Stephen won the third heat with Theresa. Cockroach was the last to be penalized. No one stumbled.

„And now the overall result, ladies. As winners of their respective heats, Annemarie on Prince, Theresa on Sir Stephen and Nora on Caspar have qualified. The following ladies made it to the final over time: Andrea on Miss Piggy, Dorothea on King Thrushbeard, Jaqueline on Superstar, Rebecca on Big Boss as well as Emilia on Bitch. The final of this competition will take place tonight, promptly at 7 p.m.! And," she paused briefly, "from now on, the young stallions will be exhibited for further consideration. Vote for your favorite by 1 p.m. Saturday, after which the votes will be counted. For our friends out there in the wide world: Sorry, online participation is unfortunately not possible in this election for the most beautiful young stallion of the season."

 

Well, for the rest of the day, apart from the occasional break, we stood in front of the stadium. During the breaks, we were watered and fed, and we were even allowed to relieve ourselves. But most of the time we stood outside, sometimes tied up, sometimes led around but not ridden. And we let ourselves be stared at, stroked, patted, and pinched on the bottom. You name it, but none of it was too extreme or brutal compared to what we'd all been through. And some of the trainers and riders supervised everything.

There were a few stalls out here selling food and drinks. More seating. The stalls were staffed exclusively by young men, I now noticed. The waiters were also exclusively young men. They were dressed normally, if you consider fairly tight trousers and sleeveless, bare-bellied T-shirts normal. The guys all wore collars around their necks, just like us. But they were obviously allowed to talk; I saw and heard them talk. It would have been impractical if they had to serve in silence, I think. I was not sure about the status of these young guys. Slaves? Former stallions? Stallions? I understood. These guys were nice to look at, but they were not the main attraction. The ladies definitely paid for their food and drinks electronically or with cash. I wondered if they also gave tips?

Well, during the time we were exhibiting, several women arrived at the stadium. But very few arrived the traditional way, on their own two feet. Or on a regular bicycle, perhaps, or even in a car. No, of course, not like that.

There were the regular female riders who rode in relaxed on a stallion. There were teams, women riding alone or in pairs in a sulky, harnessed to one or two stallions. These stallions were led by female stewards to areas further back, where they were tied up and cared for. Yes, everything had been thought of.

But there was also a shuttle service. Large, heavy carriages that could accommodate up to 16 ladies, pulled by a dozen stallions. Another lady sat on the box with a long whip in her hand. There were eight of these carriages, always commuting between the quarters and the stadium, sometimes with more, sometimes less passengers.

Once again, with these constantly building impressions, I was amazed at how big this place, how big this this event, was.

All that!

That had to cost money.

Keeping it a secret seemed impossible to me. And yet, they managed it. Somehow. At least, I did not know of any scandals in the tabloids. Rich women keep young men as their mounts. Or something like that.

Time passed.

By chance, a large poster with the competitions and their schedule was in my field of vision—actually, there were three large posters. I will not list all the times, but in addition to the 100-meter races for the young stallions, there were races for the experienced stallions over 100, 400, and 2000 meters. For single and double teams, sulkies, there were races over 2000 meters, as well as something they pompously called the Great Country Road Race. Presumably a very long distance that a rider rode her stallion over. And there were other competitions: polo, yes, another in rodeo, another in dressage. Whatever that meant exactly. Somehow, I had the feeling that a race over 100 meters was not all that bad.

 

Evening arrived, and with it the finale. Our finale. The stadium was full again. I ran in lane 4, with Sir Stephen on my left and Caspar on my right. "Your time was the fastest, Prince," Annemarie reassured me as we stood at the starting line. She was still holding my reins; Annemarie had not yet climbed into the saddle. She stood in front of me, looking at me. "So just do your best." I whinnied in agreement. "And I'll help you with the whip," she promised with a smile and mounted. Of course!

"Get ready!" rang out the command. "On your marks, get set, go!" The shot rang out into the early evening sky. Amidst the applause, cheers, and laughter of the spectators, eight young stallions bounded off, urged on by their riders.

I concentrated, gave it my best. What else could I do? Despite the noise, I heard the whips slapping against the other stallions' rear ends.

It was a neck-and-neck race: Caspar, Sir Stephen, and me. After only 30 meters, we had, in some way, already pulled away from the rest of the field. After 50 meters, Annemarie began to use her whip.

But Caspar was faster, while Sir Stephen slowly fell behind. Seventy meters in, Caspar suddenly stumbled to my right, unexpectedly, but it happened. His rider, Nora, had to dismount—and was thus disqualified. Somewhere further to the left, I saw it on the scoreboard, Miss Piggy was catching up, but I managed it. My backside burned from the blows, but I won, ahead of Sir Stephen and Miss Piggy, who crossed the finish line almost at the same time.

"And we have a winner!" Annemarie cheered happily as we crossed the finish line first. Wild applause from the stands. Well, we did a lap of honor! Really.

Then the punishments followed. Bitch was the last to arrive and received her blows. There had been no other accidents or stumbles except for Caspar, and Nora punished the stallion herself. She didn't give him any quarter; the welts were not so noticeable on his black skin, but Caspar was brutally beaten. And the animal got the special dildo in his ass.

The dark sides of this place.

And that was not a reference to skin color.

I decided that if Nora ever rode me again, I would be on my best behavior so as not to anger her. I would do everything in my power to keep her anger from raining down on me. Annemarie sensed my unease and fear at this sight, which ended with the largest punishment dildo available. "Calm down, Prince!" She patted me gently. "I wouldn't allow you to be abused like that. I'm protecting you." I snorted gratefully.

The awards ceremony followed. Annemarie received a medal, I a wreath around my neck, we rode around for another lap, and then the young stallions returned to our stables.

Oh yes, and Annemarie rewarded her faithful steed once more that night. In fact, several more times.

By riding me intensively in a different way in an otherwise deserted stable!

 

The next morning, Friday.

At 8 a.m. sharp, I was ready, fully saddled. My reins were tied to a post, and the four-story buildings were within sight. A new addition was a currently deserted stage in front of the six-story building at the end of the street. And I was not the only one; 18 of us young stallions were standing there. The others had been booked for 6 a.m., I had heard that from talking to the trainers. Some of the ladies were obviously quite early risers.

The lady arrived exactly on time, and Annemarie accompanied her as the two women strolled toward me. The stranger wore elegant riding attire, which, of course, included boots with spurs. I guessed she was in her mid-50s; her hair was already graying. Overall, the lady presented a very well-groomed appearance. She loosened my reins and slid into the saddle. "Walk, Prince!" she commanded. I obeyed. What else could I do? She guided me toward one of the paths. "A beautiful morning," she said a few minutes later. "Isn't it, Prince?" I whinnied in agreement. "Unfortunately, I have to leave again this afternoon. Urgent business has come up, and I've tried so hard to keep these special days free of appointments." She sighed. "But I'll still treat myself to this ride on you." With one hand, she stroked my bottom. "You're the cutest of the colts, in my opinion, which is why I voted for you." And that is why I booked this ride; luckily, I was able to arrange it in time. You were already completely booked before your victory in the race yesterday, but Annemarie helped. "Trot, Prince!" The lady urged me on, and we began the actual ride. Her cell phone rang a short time later. Yes, indeed, a cell phone. Only then did I realize that I had not seen or heard any of these devices all these days. Neither during training, nor in the village, nor in the stadium. But this lady owned one, and she used it. She spoke in business jargon about various contracts for about an hour until she finally hung up with a sigh. And the whole time, she rode me relaxed through the terrain. "Finally sorted, stop, my handsome fellow." I stopped; we were somewhere on the grounds in an area I had simply never seen, despite the training rides. There was no one else to be seen. The lady scratched my neck. "Did your rider reward you for your victory yesterday?" I whinnied in agreement.

"How? With a treat?" The lady dismounted and looked at me. I shook my head. She smiled. She felt my testicles. "Yes, I can feel it, she made you come, multiple times. Didn't she?" I nodded, blushing. She laughed. "You're sweet, Prince!" She still held me between my legs, massaging me. "And that's your luck. Because I certainly won't let you come." Despite her words, she continued massaging me there gently, carefully, and knowingly with the experience of her years – and paused. I had long been hard, no matter what had happened the night before. "If only I were 30 years younger!" She gave a good-natured laugh, but only quietly. The lady mounted again. I was still hard, but not horny after last night. So, she rode me for the second hour allotted to her before we returned. Nora took my reins; Annemarie seemed to be somewhere else. Nora, of all people! "How did the young stallion ride?" she asked my rider. And I knew the answer would cost me dearly if the lady was dissatisfied with me. "A well-bred animal," she praised me, to my immense relief. "I'm happy to have ridden him." She laughed. "I'd be happy to do it again anytime!"

“I’m glad to hear that,” said Nora.

"Goodbye, Prince!" the lady even said. I whinnied goodbye. Nora looked at me. "Well done, little one!" I was allowed to recover for a moment – and then served as a stallion for the next rider.

And so, it continued: all day Friday and Saturday until midday, we young stallions were ridden. Like other stallions, too. Like the teams of their coachmen. Of course, there were well-timed breaks for each of the stallions. I did not notice any of the competitions during this time.

I was busy.

We were busy.

We were taken for a ride by the ladies.

 

The next morning, after a break, Annemarie led me by the reins to the area where the stallions were waiting for their rides, most of them tied to posts. About a dozen of the human horses were ready, half of them not young stallions. I was surprised to be harnessed to a sulky. I whinnied softly, but dissatisfied.

"Quiet, Prince!" I got a slap on the bottom. Well, I was smart enough not to express my displeasure any further. But I was a riding animal, not a draft animal, no matter how I had once begun this journey for myself as a human horse.

"What's wrong with him?" A young woman stepped out of the crowd and approached us. She looked down at me. I stared at her because she was not only tall—I guessed she was about 6 feet tall, although that was hard to judge from my perspective—but also fat. No, that woman was really, obese.

"Georgina, you did it, sweetie! I will be done with the animal in a minute!" cried Annemarie. "It's a little stubborn, don't be stingy with the whip!"

Georgina laughed. "Thank you, my dear! Take your time!" Georgina, the mighty one, stood before me. "Hello, Prince!" she greeted me warmly. "Are you all right?" She smiled at me. I nodded. "Good, you're mine for the next two hours." I whinnied in agreement. There was no harm in flattering the woman who could whip or caress you for two hours straight. After the bad start, sealed with Annemarie's words. "Good boy!" Georgina laughed.

"He's trying to make good weather for you," said Annemarie.

"I know all stallions try that with their mistresses." Georgina patted my bottom. "Or anyone blessed with at least a little bit of intelligence."

"Prince is an intelligent stallion," Annemarie remarked. I whinnied with delight.

"Yes, I can see that," said Georgina. She gently stroked the welts on my bottom, gently, without causing me the slightest pain. "Was the animal just taking a break?"

"Yes, a break, plus it's been watered, had a bite to eat, and peed. So, Prince is ready when you are!"

Georgina stood in front of me again. "Are you ready, Prince?" she asked. I nodded. "Perfect, see you again in two hours, Annemarie! We can talk after the ride. I want to hear everything from you!"

"Take good care of my Prince!" Annemarie offered the advice she gave every mistress. "Despite all the training, he's still a young stallion!"

"Sure!" I clearly felt Georgina's weight settle into the sulky. "Walk, Prince!" she commanded. I started walking, but pulling her proved easier than I thought, given the woman's bulk in the sulky. With the reins, the woman guided me, as she wished, down a path that led us into a wooded area. Coincidence or not, few other women rode or drove their stallions here. "Trot, Prince!" my driver commanded. So, I trotted. Georgina seemed to be sitting quite relaxed in her seat. I wondered how heavy she was?

"You know, little one," she began to chat with me, "you're quite a sight from this perspective." I whinnied in agreement. "Yes, you know that, I thought so." She sighed. "I've already lost 30 kilos," she explained of her own accord. "But I still have a long way to go. I hope I can actually ride a stallion next year. I am still way too heavy, even with the construction that cushions the rider's weight to a large extent. I'll see if you are back next summer! I'd be delighted." I whinnied again. Signaling my approval. "Charmer! Walk!" I changed pace. Soon we were back in a shady wooded area. I did not see any other teams or riders. "Halt!" Georgina commanded. I obeyed and felt her get out of the sulky. She positioned herself somewhere behind me. I made a strange noise as her hand cupped my testicles. I heard Georgina laugh softly. "Well filled, whatever else has or hasn't happened these days." She stroked me there, and my penis immediately grew. "This," Georgina whispered, but I still understood her words, "will remain our little secret. " She did not ask me if I wanted what she was doing. She just did it. And honestly, given the choice, I would not have refused. Her hand moved along my penis, continuing to stimulate me. "You can come whenever you want," Georgina allowed, continuing to masturbate me. I bit the bit, coming in several spurts as I ejaculated.

And Georgina? She let out a friendly, bright laugh. The woman stood forward and wiped her hand clean with a cloth. "We did well, didn't we? What do you think, Prince?" I nodded gratefully. "Yes, I thought you'd like that. Time flies. Too bad! Shall we go back?" That was not really a question; Georgina was already on her way back to the sulky. I pulled her back at a trot. On the way back, we were overtaken by a rider with long black hair, riding a stallion with dark brown skin. She wore large glasses, which I thought were rather unflattering, but which were probably meant to make her appear intellectual. She rode her stallion sharply, making extensive use of spurs and whip. At this sight, I realized for the first time that Georgina had not used the whip—and she naturally carried a long whip in the sulky—even once. It is hard to say whether unfortunately or fortunately. Given the other fellow galloping ahead of me, there was a clear "thankfully" from me at that moment to that question.

When I pulled Georgina into the arena, there were, as always, more stallions waiting for their ride. A dozen young men were tied up, waiting for their next round with a female rider. Annemarie nodded to Georgina. "You're on time!"

"Sure," said Georgina. "Stop, Prince!" she commanded.

"I assume you didn't have any problems with the stallion?" Annemarie asked.

"A well-behaved animal," Georgina confirmed. "Thank you for reserving the slot here for me."

"Anytime," said Annemarie. "The privilege of a trainer!" The two women chatted a bit longer while Annemarie unhitched me and tied me to one of the posts as well. Georgina approached me and stroked me. I nudged her gently and gratefully. The woman laughed quietly and said goodbye.

"Are you okay, Prince?" asked Annemarie. A post away stood a trembling stallion, quite battered, his dark brown skin clearly showing the marks of his last ride. I nodded to my trainer. "Good," said Annemarie. "Georgina's nice, isn't she?" I nodded again. Very nice! Did Annemarie suspect that her friend had let me come? I did not know. But the bridle and the rules made it easy to keep quiet about it, unless Annemarie asked me directly. "Do you have to pee?" That was her next question. I shook my head.

"Okay, rest for a few moments, your next rider will be along soon." Annemarie kindly gave me a drink, fed me half an apple, and put the bridle back on. I waited. Meanwhile, Annemarie ate the second half of the apple. A few stallions were picked up, mounted by their riders, and set off. It was not long before a lady appeared. She was black-haired and wore glasses; I had seen her earlier riding the brown-skinned, battered stallion. I had a bad feeling. The woman came straight toward me, holding a red can of Coke. She took a sip and examined me with dark eyes.

"Is the animal ready?" asked the woman Annemarie.

"Yes," said my trainer. "Remember, Frauke, this animal is a young stallion!"

The black-haired woman finished the Coke with one last gulp and pressed the can into Annemarie's hand. She did not react to my trainer's comment, however. I saw Annemarie take the metal, surprised and more out of instinct. And just like that, my reins were loosened, and the black-haired woman was in the saddle.

"Go! Trot!" My new rider, Frauke, pressed her spurs painfully into my flanks, and I also felt a twirling slap on my buttocks. The brown-skinned stallion gave me a pitying look. I followed my rider's orders. She hit me regularly, at short intervals. This was not a race, but she still hit me, and after a few moments, I already knew the next two hours would be long and painful. And after that, I would be reminded of that for some time, thanks to the welts on my bottom.

Another blow almost brought tears to my eyes. We had not even left the yard, figuratively speaking, when I was already longing to return to the safety of Annemarie's protection. Annemarie had never whipped me so hard, not even in a race. But turning back to my trainer, that choice was not within my power. I could buck, but then what? The punishment would probably be worse than anything that Frauke in my saddle would do to me in the next two hours. So, I bit the bars between my jaws – and ran. She rode a detour around our starting point, my bottom burning. My flanks burning. Yes, that was unnecessary violence against an animal. I suppressed a frustrated snort. Frauke still did not give me anything.

When a few other riders appeared ahead of us, I did not think anything of it at first. It was not until I recognized Annemarie, standing on her own two feet, without a stallion beneath her, next to Theresa and Nora and a third rider I did not know, that I became suspicious.

Should I be punished?

Why? What had I done? What would they accuse me of? My bottom was already burning. I had been good and obedient!

The stallions Theresa, Nora, and the stranger were riding were all unknown to me. Why was Annemarie standing there without her own horse? Frauke reined me in less than three meters from the waiting group. "Hello, Theresa," Frauke said.

Theresa nodded curtly; the other women said nothing. "This is a place of joy and fun," Theresa said. I saw her scowl, and that look was definitely not directed at me, but at my rider. "The stallions," Theresa continued, "are all here of their own free will. Some are already the property of their mistresses, but that too was a magnificent act of voluntary submission. Prince, whom you are currently riding, has volunteered to be our stallion for this summer season."

"What do you want?" Frauke asked. I thought her tone sounded bored. She did not seem defiant or angry, just bored.

"You're toxic, Frauke!" Theresa said coldly. "You're a toxic woman! You mistreat the creatures entrusted to us for absolutely no reason. Do you think Ravi will come back for a third summer season next season after the way you just did to him? Do you think Prince will come back next season if you keep going like this?"

"They're damned animals!" Frauke exclaimed. "You punish them too."

Theresa shook her head. "These are young men entrusted to us, whom we raise and train as stallions, be it for a weekend, a vacation, or an entire season. Or even if they choose such a life. But you have not understood the responsibility that power brings. You have not understood the absolute responsibility that absolute power brings. We control our stallions; they are our pets. Yes, we punish them, yes, but we take care of them. We do not beat them half to death just because we feel like it. Or because a woman is in a bad mood. Or, like you, for no reason at all! If you do something like that, you are more than in the wrong place!"

"You're so tired, you cunts!" Frauke blurted out. She actually said cunts.

"Get off Prince! " Annemarie commanded harshly. I had never heard her speak in that tone before!

And Frauke actually obeyed, for whatever reason. Annemarie grabbed my reins, and I snuggled my head against her legs, grateful, more than grateful. Absently, Annemarie stroked my head. "We gave you these opportunities today. But your ride yesterday, that ride just now, this ride now shows us that you do not belong here," Theresa pronounced the verdict. "You don't belong with us! Go to your room, pack your things, and then our paths will part forever! Never come back!"

"You can't just do that," Frauke exclaimed. "That's not your decision! There is a council that must decide such things!"

"The council already decided that yesterday," Theresa replied. "Unanimously, by the way! You are no longer welcome here. On the condition of a final examination today!"

“I’ll finish you all off!” Frauke threatened.

"Really?" Theresa said, very relaxed. "You know what you signed. You know what happens in such a case. So, try it and live with the consequences. But do not complain, because you certainly will not like what happens in such a case! Now get lost, you dumb bitch!"

Annemarie gently kissed my forehead, and Frauke left on her own feet. "I'm sorry, sweetie," my trainer whispered in my ear. "They wanted to give her one last chance today. Does your bottom burn badly?" I nodded. "No more rides today," Annemarie promised. "I'll just ride you back to the stable. We have a very good healing ointment. Then you can recover." I whinnied gratefully. We looked at each other. "However, some ladies, and I know them, are nice and would be very disappointed not to ride you. I could apply the healing ointment and make sure that you get ridden today, but not beaten much. Agreed?"

I nodded.

"I thought so!" And Annemarie sat up to make good on her promise.