A GELDING FOR LADY BRANDI

PONYSLAVE GELDED

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A GELDING FOR LADY BRANDI

It had been an inconvenience for Lady Brandi that her chariot slave 
should choose that moment to collapse. She had been enjoying the 
drive around her vast estate, dressed as always from head to toe in 
soft black leather.  Her slave  had a steady pace, but only with 
encouragement from her whip. Suddenly he stumbled and fell to the 
ground, Brandi had been thrown forward off the seat and landed 
heavily against the foot rest. She clambered to her feet and stepped 
down from the chariot, brushing the dirt from her leather catsuit.

"You idiot." she roared, "You could have killed me you worm," her 
face red with rage. She stepped forward to the fallen slave and 
placed a well aimed kick with her boot into his stomach. He squirmed 
on the floor in agony and tried to stand, only to fall down again.  
Even though Brandi yanked on the reins and encouraged him with her 
boots to stand up, the oaf just squealed in pain. Upon examining his 
leg, she thought that the stifle might be fractured. There was only 
one thing to do, she stood and  placed  her  stiletto  heel  over  
his neck holding his head still.  He began to splutter and choke, a 
tear ran down his cheek.  She drew the pistol from its holster on her 
belt and pointed it at his head. The sound of the shot echoed around 
the valley and was heard a mile away at the house. Brandi walked back 
to the chariot and took the mobile phone from the long leather coat 
that was draped over the seat.

At the house, Lady Tamsin, Brandi's niece, answered the telephone.  
She had been expecting the call, having heard the shot.

"Are you alright?"  she  asked, with concern  in  her  voice, "Thank  
goodness, I was worried." she continued, "Yes I'll be there soon."

Putting the phone down she hurried out to the courtyard and climbed 
into the Jeep. With the loose gravel on the driveway flying 
everywhere, she roared out onto the estate. She soon arrived at the 
scene of the mishap, stepping from the vehicle she embraced her aunt 
and then surveyed the mess.

"Lets get this mess cleared off the road shall we?" suggested Brandi.

Tamsin stepped up to the lifeless slave, "Such a waste of a good 
animal," she stated without conviction," and with the races less than 
a month away."

Brandi nodded in agreement, "We will have to find a replacement, and 
soon." she said.

The two sexy young women knelt over the slave’s body and removed the 
leather harness that secured him to the drawbars, and Tasmin removed 
the bridle from his mouth. The job completed, they dragged his 
carcass from the road and with a shove from the soles of their boots 
sent him tumbling into the ditch which ran alongside. The chariot was 
then tied to the rear of the Jeep and the two leather clad women sped 
off toward the house.

There was no time to waste. Brandi removed the gun from her belt and, 
still dressed in her leathers, jumped into her Jaguar. She sped off 
towards the city in search of a replacement for the chariot slave. 
For hours that afternoon she cruised around the seedy areas of the 
city unable to find a suitably built male.  It would be dark soon 
and  hunger had begun to make itself felt. Disappointed she headed 
back through town. The hunt would have to resume tomorrow. The 
evening traffic had already started to build up as she drove towards 
the freeway that would take her home.

Phil had been stood on the slip road to the motorway for two hours. 
Hundreds of vehicles had passed him by since then and none had 
offered him a lift. It would be dark soon and he would have to find 
somewhere to stop for the night. He shouldered his large rucksack and 
began to walk back down the slip road towards the city. A red Jaguar 
sped past him to join the flow of traffic. Suddenly, a squeal of 
tyres on the road behind him caused him to stop and look around. The 
Jaguar had stopped on the slip-road and the horn was sounded. A lift 
at last, he thought, and ran back up the slope to the waiting car. 
The window whirred down and the sweet smell of leather filled his 
nostrils. Inside the vehicle was a beautiful woman dressed in 
leather, with a curvaceous figure and rich, dark hair that cascaded 
over her shoulders and down her back.

"Are you going past Penton?" He enquired.

"Yes no problem." She replied eyeing him over excitedly. He was 
captivated by her beauty. Her face was dominated by her piercing dark 
eyes that seemed to penetrate his own. Several times as they cruised 
up the freeway he had tried to enter into conversation with the 
woman, complimenting her on the outfit that she wore and even the 
weather, but she only glanced round at him and smiled, before 
concentrating on the road again. Eventually he gave up and sat in 
silence and watched the darkness envelope them. Suddenly the trunk 
flew open.

"That damn thing! I meant to have that fixed ages ago," she said half 
to herself and half to him. She slowed the car and pulled onto the 
hard shoulder.

" Don't worry," he said,  "I'll  shut  it," and went around the back 
of the car. He was suddenly overcome by fumes. Brandi held the nozzle 
of the spray directly into his face and kept squirting. He was 
instantly rendered unconscious and fell headlong into the trunk. She 
fastened his wrists and ankles in steel manacles and slid a leather 
hood over his head. That done, she ran round to the drivers seat and 
soon rejoined the flow of traffic.

When Phil eventually returned to consciousness, sunlight streamed 
through the window of an unfamiliar room. His head throbbed and he 
felt rotten. He was naked, his back was covered in sweat and he was 
stuck to the rubber bedding beneath him. When he tried to get up from 
the bed he found that his hands and feet were bound to the four 
corners of the floor with chains and leather. The door opened and the 
woman had been driving the car entered the room.

She was now dressed in skintight jodhpurs, a tiny T-shirt and thigh 
length boots with sharp stiletto heels. In one hand she held a crop, 
in the other a pair of black leather gloves.

"Where am I? Who the hell are you? What do you want of me? he 
demanded, panic filling his voice. All his questions were ignored as 
she approached him. She wriggled her hands into the soft leather 
gloves. Without warning she slapped him repeatedly around his face.

"How dare you question me, worm!" she hissed gripping his jaw tightly 
in her gloved hand. She reached with her other hand down to his groin 
and took his dick and balls in her soft leather grip. She felt the 
blood pulse into his growing member and stroked it gently in 
encouragement.

Satisfied the thing was fully enlarged, her grip tightened until he 
screamed, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Now you will listen to me worm," she ordered, "my name is Lady 
Brandi. You will grow to worship me and obey my every command.  Be 
grateful that you were chosen and never fail me." She stopped and 
emphasized failure by bringing the crop down onto his chest. He 
shrieked in agony and pointlessly fought against his bonds. A wicked 
smile spread across her face as she traced the red weals forming on 
his taught flesh. She continued, "You will be my slave, my plaything. 
I expect your total and instantaneous obedience and loyalty." She 
stopped again as the door was opened and a younger woman entered. She 
was also dressed in jodhpurs and thigh length boots. In her gloved 
hands she held an assault rifle which she pointed towards his head.

"This is Lady Tamsin," Brandi continued, "she is an excellent shot 
and quite ruthless. Should you attempt to escape from here the 
punishment will be swift. Do you understand?" She asked.

Phil mumbled that he did. This was followed by more cracks of the 
whip across his body and the grip on his erect dick and testicles 
grew tighter.

"Show some respect you worm," Brandi commanded.

"YYYes Lady Brandi," he replied nervously.

Lady Brandi undid his restraints and ordered, "Get on your knees." 

Phil afraid of the punishment if he didn't obey, complied. Brandi 
took a collar from a hook on the wall. She beckoned him towards her 
spreading her legs slightly apart and he crawled across the floor. 
The collar was placed around his neck and secured with a small 
padlock. Brandi then crossed her legs and, showing him the sole of 
her boot and its sharp heel, ordered, "Clean them." She pushed her 
heel into his cheek. He winced and began to run his tongue over the 
leather sole. He cleaned both of them. Then, satisfied that the job 
had been well done, she stood and walked to the door.

"Come with me," she ordered. Phil went to stand up and follow her 
out. She spun round on the stiletto heels and brought the crop down, 
viciously cutting into his face and chest. "Who told you to stand?" 
she screamed. He dropped down onto his knees, clutching at the fresh 
weals on his body. She turned and carried on. Phil followed her out 
onto the gravel drive, crawling at her heels. The sharp stones ripped 
into his bare knees and hands.

She led him to the stables where Lady Tamsin was waiting for them. 
Her breasts stuck out provocatively under her thin cotton top, and 
her hands were covered by soft leather gloves. She held a bridle and 
bit. The two ladies talked to each other for a while, then Lady 
Brandi turned to him and said, "I will leave you in the care of Lady 
Tamsin now, she is an expert in training my pony slaves." 

As soon as Lady Brandi had gone, Lady Tamsin picked up a lunging whip 
and brought it down onto his naked flesh tearing it open in long red 
lines.

"Do as I say or you won’t live for much longer," she threatened, 
smiling. "Open," she ordered. The pony seemed not to 
understand.  "Open," she repeated, and this time gripped him firmly 
by the balls and squeezed until he complied with her wishes. Tasmin 
placed the bit firmly in his mouth and slid the bridle over his head. 
Securing the buckles tightly in place so that the bit cut into the 
corners of his mouth, she then fastened a long lunge rein to the 
bridle and led him towards an exercise yard. Phil walked along behind 
his trainer. Tamsin occasionally turned and gave him a crack of her 
lunge whip across his naked buttocks.

"I will soon have you used to your new role in life," she 
stated. "The problem will be whether you still have any skin left on 
your body by then." With that, she unwound the lunge line and sent 
him off in circles around her. Several lashes from her whip ran up 
his buttocks and onto his back as she brought him into a jog. His 
balance was improving rapidly, aided by the whip that stung his 
flesh. The whip cut into him again as she ordered him to run. He 
tripped and fell to the floor. Instantly the whip was cutting into 
his back.

"Up, you pathetic creature." she commanded, stepping towards him and 
thrusting her heel into his groin.  "You will have to do better than 
this," she continued, removing the heel and kicking him to his feet.

She led him from the exercise yard and back to the  stables, where 
the small two wheeled chariot was stood in the courtyard. Lady Brandi 
was standing beside it, waiting for them to return.

"He's very unsteady on his feet," Tasmin advised.

Lady Brandi replied, "I'm sure that he wouldn’t dare to stumble when 
he's pulling me." And an evil smile spread across her face as she 
added, " Maybe I'll take him to see my previous slave. That's if the 
wildlife hasn't finished his carcass off yet." The colour drained 
from Phil's face. His legs were aching. Tasmin positioned him between 
the two wooden drawbars and Brandi strapped him into the leather 
harness which secured him to the chariot. Lady Brandi ran her gloved 
hand around Phil's face and down his chest to his growing member, 
which she gripped gently in her hand.

"Don't fail me," she said, squeezing his balls in her hand, "or 
you’ll regret it."

"Just do your best," advised Lady Tasmin.

Lady Brandi climbed up into the chariot. Taking the long driving whip 
from its holder at the front of the vehicle, she sent it biting into 
his back.

"Gee up," she shouted.

Tasmin smiled as Phil set off out of the yard at a steady pace, 
fearful of the whip biting into his flesh. His mind filled with the 
fear of what the two evil bitches might do to him, should he fail. 
Half an hour later, Lady Brandi drove into the yard and 
called, "Whoa," as she pulled back hard on the reins and brought the 
exhausted pony to halt. Tasmin looked him over and smiled gleefully 
as she observed that his rump was covered in red stripes.  

Every day for the next few weeks, the new pony was out on the estate 
pulling Lady Brandi around in the chariot. He was made to wear 
bridle, bit and harness all day and a all night, to "acclimatise 
him." And, after several weeks of hard work by the ladies, Phil the 
pony was fitter, stronger and quite obedient. However, as race day 
grew nearer, the two young ladies couldn’t help but think that he was 
still "too green." A decision had to be made. Either Lady Brandi 
missed this month’s event, or she could risk him. After much 
discussion, Tasmin persuaded her aunt that the pony should run. 

After an hour’s lunging session, Lady Tasmin harnessed the pony to 
the chariot as usual. Then, with a sweet smile she said, "You’d 
better not let Lady Brandi down in the race, lad, or it’ll be the 
chop for you." The pony shuffled nervously and Lady Tasmin gave him a 
hefty crack with a crop. To bring the pony up to scratch and increase 
his strength, both aunt and niece rode in the buggy, taking it in 
turns to drive him with the whip. 

Before they knew it race day was upon them. At the track, Lady Tasmin 
bridled and bitted the lad as Lady Brandi examined herself in a long 
mirror. "Do you think these jodhpurs make my bum look good?"

"Yes," replied Tasmin with a smile, "you look great." And then she 
asked, gesturing at Phil, "Have you told him yet?"

"No," replied Lady Brandi, "I’ll tell him when we’re in the parade 
ring."

Although Phil was, by now, almost 100% equine, he could still 
understand them when they talked. Lady Brandi mounted the buggy and, 
taking a firm grip of the reins to pull the pony’s head back, she 
cracked him on the rump with her whip, clicked her tongue and 
said, "Walk on." Lady Tasmin followed alongside them as Phil was made 
to trot out into the parade ring where a couple of dozen other ponies 
were harnessed and walking around. The entire ring was surrounded by 
women. He noticed how they pointed and chatted and looked in their 
form books as they assessed each pony as it passed. He was nervous 
and also felt embarrassed at being naked before so many females. A 
bell rang and Lady Brandi pulled him to a halt. Nearby he could see 
groups of young ladies peering at him and looking him over. He fought 
against it, but he could feel his cock rising as he glimpsed their 
pretty little miniskirts and tight young buttocks and pert breasts. 

He heard one young lady say, "I wonder why he’s getting so excited? 
Bloody stallions!"

And another young lady replied, "I don’t think he’ll be one for much 
longer." And the whole group burst into laughter. 

A bright, bubbly female voice boomed out over the tannoy, "And the 
next race is the novices two furlong race. All unplaced ponies below 
third place to be reclassified under rule 27. For all those ladies 
interested in such things…" There was some laughter and comments 
amongst the crowd. "Castrations will take place in the barn area."

Phil struggled against the harness and began to chomp furiously on 
the metal bit. His muscles twitched. His eyes were wide and full of 
terror. "Stand still!" Lady Brandi boomed and lashed his rump with 
her driving whip. Lady Tasmin got in front of him and grabbed him 
firmly by the balls. "Stand. Stand," she repeated. "Now," she 
continued, "don’t let Lady Brandi and me down, and you’ll be fine. 
But if you don’t get a place, then you’re gonna be very sorry. Gonna 
get you gelded." Lady Tasmin smiled and called to Lady Brandi in the 
chariot, "I reckon he understands."

"Good," Lady Brandi replied. "Walk on!" she said and snapped the whip 
gently across the pony’s rump. Brandi made him canter down to the 
start. As they waited, she dismounted and gently rolled his testicles 
between her fingers. "You wanna keep ‘em," she said, "then you don’t 
let me down."

The ponies were lined up and ready to go, straining against their 
harnesses and tightly reined in on their bits. The starter dropped 
her flag and there was a mad flurry of whipping as each lady jockey 
sent her mount off at a gallop. Brandi kept her whip busy as Phil 
seemed to be having problems keeping up with the pace. He quickened 
nicely and seemed to be doing well. He could only see three ponies in 
front of him. If he could just edge forwards and pass one of them, he 
would be in third place. He mustered all of his strength under Lady 
Brandi’s flurry of whip strokes. 

He passed a pony on the inside and was now closing in on second 
place. Lady Brandi was tugging on the reins, pulling him to the left 
and whipping him across the right flank. Phil didn’t know why she was 
sending him to the left hand side of the track, but he was unable to 
stand the pain of her lash and had no choice but to obey. He galloped 
full tilt diagonally across the track until he was on the far rail. 
He’d lost ground on the ponies who kept to the right hand side of the 
track and could now see that four, five, six, seven ponies were in 
front of him. Lady Brandi was yelling at him and slashing his arse 
relentlessly with her whip. But he could go no faster. Another pony 
passed him on the far side, then another. And as the finish line came 
into focus he could see that many, many ponies had finished in front 
of him. Only when he crossed the line and Lady Brandi reined him in, 
did he realise that there were no ponies behind him. He was last.

Phil’s chest heaved and saliva was dribbling down his front as he was 
driven slowly, but on a tight rein, through the girls in the crowd. 
They were all giggling and chatting excitedly about how much they’d 
won or what a good race it had been. Phil could see Lady Tasmin 
approaching. Her face was like thunder. She grabbed his bridle 
roughly and gave him a crack on the rump with her crop for no reason. 
As she walked him through the happy throng, she said to him, "You 
dumbass critter. What the hell were you doing?" She turned to Lady 
Brandi and said, "I thought perhaps you’d decided that the going on 
the far side was better and that’s why he’d gone over."

"No," replied Lady Brandi with a shrug. "He just strayed off."

"Well I just hope that when they cut your balls off they damn well 
forget the anaesthetic," sneered Tasmin. Brandi grinned, finding her 
niece’s youthful intolerance most amusing.  

Phil tried to hold back as they neared the barn area. He could see 
ahead that three young ladies in teeny white micro-mini dresses were 
gelding ponies as a whole crowd of ladies stood by and watched with 
amusement. Tasmin would stand no nonsense and whipped Phil on the 
arse again and again to stop him playing up. Lady Brandi pulled him 
to a halt in the queue. A tear ran down his cheek as he watched one 
after another pony having its balls cut off. The gelders worked 
quickly and efficiently, smiling and talking to ladies in the crowd 
as they clipped off the nuts and threw them carelessly into a bucket. 
Tasmin yanked him roughly one step closer as, one by one, each pony 
was carted off into the barn after its operation. 

Then, it was the moment of truth. "Bring him forward," instructed one 
of the young ladies in a white mini-dress. She was a tall blonde with 
a perfect figure. Lady Brandi gave him a whip, and Lady Tasmin tugged 
him forwards. Lady Brandi pulled back hard on the reins to steady the 
lad. "He seems a bit reluctant," said one of the gelders. "Don’t 
worry lad, it doesn’t hurt - too much," she joked. Phil braced 
himself as the tall blonde approached him, tapping a syringe filled 
with liquid and squirting some out of the end of the needle. Just as 
she was about to inject it into his scrotum, Lady Tasmin stomped the 
heel of her boot down onto his foot. The pony jumped, knocking the 
syringe out of the gelder’s hand. The ladies looked down. The syringe 
was broken on the ground and it’s contents were spilled and running 
away. 

"Idiot!" shouted Lady Tasmin and gave the pony a number of cuts on 
his rump.  The blonde looked a bit annoyed, but said patiently, "Not 
to worry, I’ve got some more anaesthetic and needles in the car. You 
don’t get away that easy."

She was about to walk away when Lady Brandi and Lady Tasmin said, 
almost in unison, "Don’t worry about it." Lady Brandi 
continued, "I’ll hold him on the bit. He won’t move."

"Are you sure?" inquired the three gelders. And the blonde said, "The 
car’s only just there," and pointed to a four-wheel-drive some twenty 
feet away.

"Don’t bother," said Lady Tasmin. 

Then the lady spectators all egged the gelders on and said, "Go on, 
give him a cold cut."

Lady Brandi held the reins tight, and Lady Tasmin held his bridle. 
The blonde moved in and leant down. Phil could see her wonderful 
breasts hanging freely inside her dress. And he looked up and saw a 
mass of pretty, smiling faces, and boobs, and legs. He felt every 
muscle in his body tighten as a searing pain shot through his 
scrotum. Then, everything went blank.

Phil was awoken by a sharp kick in his leg. Lady Brandi and Lady 
Tasmin stood, looking down at him, smiling. "Wakey-wakey," said 
Brandi. "Up on your feet." And they made him crawl outside on his 
stomach. "I thought you’d like to see this," said Tasmin. "The 
gelders let us have them," and she pointed to a bucket. Then, with a 
massive grin across her face, she tipped the contents across the yard 
and a whole load of little piglets came and started to gobble them 
up. Anyway, that afternoon, Lady Brandi and Lady Tasmin took a drive 
into the local village and parked the gelding in the main street 
where a group of schoolgirls laughed and ridiculed him. "It’s good 
for him," Brandi said to Tasmin, "He’s just a gelding now and it’s no 
good him thinking he’s anything more. The sooner he gets used to it 
the better." And the two young ladies walked away towards the 
lingerie store, discussing what pretty knickers they would buy.