The Queen's Race

A Pony-boy loses the Queen's big race and is punished.  This story is 
a work of fiction.  All characters are come from the author's 
imagination.  All rights reserved by the author.

back to index

My Mistress, Mistress Jennifer, gave the bit a sharp jerk to snap my 
head up and remind me to maintain the proud pony stance.  The race 
was just about to begin.  I must have relaxed my head and shoulders 
as I waited for the other participants to line up beside me.  It was 
just past one o'clock in the afternoon; the sun beat down on my back 
and a few droplets of sweat were already forming on my brow.  I was 
in my racing harness, the one Mistress Jennifer had custom designed 
for me.  The bridle had 2 straps that connected to a thick steel bar 
which distended my mouth and made me gag if the rein, a black leather 
strap leading from the two bridle straps, was pulled way back. 

	My body harness was a thing of beauty.  It consisted of a 
thick gleaming steel ring that pushed against my breast bone.  From 
this ring four black leather straps were attached; two straps were 
riveted to the ten o'clock and two o'clock positions.  These two 
straps went over my shoulders and fit snugly past my neck.  The other 
two straps were riveted to the eight and four o'clock positions on 
the ring.  These lower straps ran along my flanks and intersected in 
a V shape at the base of my cock.  At that point the two straps 
joined and formed into a horizontal strap that pushed my scrotum down 
and back into my crotch while at the same time thrusting my cock up 
and forward.  If I had an erection while in the harness, which I was 
having at the time of the race, then the skin on my cock would become 
very tight around my shaft and cause my circumcised helmet shaped 
cock head to swell past its usual size.  The strap below my cock, 
pulling my scrotum, then split into two straps, leaving my scrotum 
fully exposed when viewed from the back.  These straps went down and 
around my bottom cheeks, up my back, and attached to a ring at the 
center of my back.  To this ring, the straps from my neck and crotch 
were attached and a series of black leather straps pulled away from 
this ring and formed a single leash that Mistress held in her hand.  
With gentile tug on this leash, my mistress could snap me to 
attention at the start of the race and give me a reminder to go 
faster.  However, if I was not performing up to expectations, then 
Mistress Jennifer could tug harder on the leash, which would tighten 
the harness straps, especially the strap on top of my scrotum, push 
my balls down and back into my crotch area and smack my cock up onto 
my belly.  A painful experience when galloping at full speed, 
especially during a race, and highly motivating.  My other stallion 
equipment consisted of a pair of thick soled, black leather boots for 
my feet that covered my shins up to a few inches below my knees, and, 
a rather thick dildo, with a long black horse hair tail, inserted 
into my anus.  The dildo was held into place, for when racing, by 
four leather straps that criss-crossed my bottom cheeks and buttoned 
snapped together.  Yes, when the harness leash was pulled, the dildo 
straps would push the dildo deeper into me.  As you can see, I tried 
not to fall below expectations and incur the sharp yank on the leash 
from my Mistress.  For an added bonus to this race, I was shaved 
clean from the neck to down.  My genital region was especially 
sensitive now from the shaving.  I was well aware of the slight 
breeze of the day as the air passed around my smooth hairless 
scrotum.  Somehow I felt more naked than ever before.

  Mistress Jennifer, my beloved tormentor and goddess, was dressed in 
her finest racing gear: brown leather riding boots, tight fitting 
white cotton riding pants, a  brown cotton blouse, thick brown 
leather gloves, and a brown leather riding helmet.  Her fine bodily 
curves were accentuated by the tight fitting outfit and her blond, 
shoulder length, hair was pulled to the back and out the helmet.  In 
Mistress's left gloved hand were the reigns for my bit and body 
harness; her right hand held a brand new, stiff, riding crop that had 
a long thick black leather loop at its tip.  I think of that leather 
loop as the loop of pain.  My harness configuration allows for 
Mistress to flick the crop underhand and have the leather loop swat 
the exposed underside of my scrotum, stinging my balls, and adding an 
extra bit of speed to my gallop.  In addition to the loop, Mistress 
can lean forward as she swats the crop, catching my testicles with 
the shaft portion of the crop and crushing my testes against my 
crotch.  Mistress was so adept with this technique that she could hit 
either my right or left testicles alone, or, she could target both at 
the same time.

	My palms began to sweat on the wooden handles of the racing 
cart, a nervous habit of mine when on the starting line.  The cart's 
basic design looked like a backwards wheelbarrow, but with two large, 
spoked wheels.  The spokes were a rich, gleaming, brass, as were the 
door handles.  The cab was painted a bright yellow, the seat a thick 
black leather.  I had spent hours waxing the cart and polishing the 
brass fittings days before the race.  This was a matter of pride for 
me, as this was to be no ordinary race, in more ways than one.  This 
was the Queen's Race Day, and my first big race competition.

	I can still remember the first time I was strapped into the 
racing harness and taken out for my first trial gallop.  I was proud 
to have been selected to be a racing stallion by Mistress Jennifer.  
My cock began to grow, slightly, as the teenage stable girl quickly 
tightened the harness straps.  Her little fingers poking and pulling 
at the straps sent tingles down my spine.  When she finished she drew 
close to me, looked me in the eye as her dainty right hand and 
fingers stroked my cock to full erection.  I could feel how tight the 
scrotum strap was going to be as my cock grew; pressure began to 
build up as my cock got thicker, pushing the strap deeper onto my 
scrotum and pushing my balls down and into my crotch area.  With a 
little giggle, the girl removed her hand from my cock as the pressure 
was causing it to throb.  Next, she reached past the scrotum strap 
and began to fondle my balls.  The scrotum strap pushed the skin over 
my balls even tighter as my scrotum tightened from the erection.  
Ouch!  I felt how sensitive my skin and balls were as the girls 
fingers found my balls.  She stroked and scratched the skin over my 
balls with her long nails.  The though of "what would it feel like to 
be hit with the crop on my balls" filtered into my mind as the girl 
leaned even closer to me and put her lips just at my right ear. "I 
sure hope you are in good shape, stallion, or your balls will never 
be the same after today's tryout" she said in a deep, soft, low 
voice, as her fingers circled around my balls and gave a quick sharp 
downward jerk to my scrotum.

	I had barely regained my composure after that revelation when 
I heard the unmistakable footsteps of Mistress as she came up the 
stone walkway.  "So, our new stallion is at full, proud attention 
with his cock I see."  Mistress said in a stern voice, as she looked 
directly at my naked genitalia.

	"That's okay, stallion" Mistress said as she put her hand on 
my shoulder. "Servant boys are not allowed erections,"  Mistress 
admonished, as she firmly grabbed my cock in her hand, squeezing it 
with her fingers, causing the head to bulge enormously. "But," 
Mistress went on, "stallions are allowed to show their proud cocks at 
full attention, in fact, stallions get rewarded when they win races.  
You may even get to stud with a pony girl if you bring honor and 
please my by winning races. On the other hand, there are penalties if 
you do not perform up to the task."  That last sentence sent another 
chill down my spine.  At that moment I fully realized how vulnerable 
my male equipment was in the harness.

	I was beaming with anticipation as the Mistress led me down 
the path at full gallop.  All through the trial, Mistress Jennifer 
tried to get me to falter, slow down, break stride, or give up.  I 
could not be broken; no matter how hard she pulled on my harness and 
swatted my balls with that crop, I never wavered from my fast 
gallop.  I followed all commands and sped up when I though I had no 
more left in me.  As I was lead back to the stable, Mistress said, 
"Very well, you have earned it, you will be trained to be a 
stallion."  The aching and pain I was feeling all over, especially in 
my genital region, seemed to vanish for an instant as Mistress spoke 
those words.

  At the stable, my stable girl, Heather, was in giggles.  "You 
looked like a true stallion out there.  Does your cock hurt from all 
the bouncing and slapping it took?" She chided.  I winced in pain as 
she lightly touched my now soft cock.  "Poor thing," she cooed, as 
she lightly brushed my ball sack with her fingers, "and I bet these 
balls really took some abuse."  She rolled my aching balls between 
her index finger and  thumb, then pronounced, "good, your balls are 
intact, they have not been ruptured.  It sometimes happens to tryouts 
who fail.  The Mistress can be cruel when she is displeased." 

	Soon the harness was off, the dildo removed from my rectum, 
and I received a sponge bath with cold water and lots of suds.  It 
felt wonderful as the stable girl's soft skinny hands and fingers 
worked and massaged my sore muscles. After I was toweled off she 
pulled my cock up to my stomach and took a closer look at my balls 
and sack.  "Ah well, there is some swelling in the testicles I see.  
Not to worry, it is to be expected from the treatment they received"  
She reassured me, "and as soon as you get stronger, the Mistress will 
not have to swat you as much to go faster."  Not a bad deal at all, I 
thought. 

   I felt a cooling sensation in my groin.  Looking down, I saw 
Heather tenderly rubbing an ointment onto my scrotum.  Next, she 
shifter her ministrations to my cock.  She took the head of my cock 
in her left hand and pulled my flaccid cock straight out. The she 
applied the ointment with her left hand.  Ahha, how good that cooling 
sensation felt.  However, my beautiful stable care-giver did not stop 
her stroking, in fact, she began to deepen and quicken her pace.  
Within moments I was becoming erect again.  "Another test Stallion," 
she whispered.  "Let's see what kind of a sperm producer you are," 
she coyly said as she looked up at me and batted her eyes, "stallion 
sperm is prized as a moisturizing and rejuvenating cream by all of 
the mistresses.  Plus, this sexual relief is your reward for doing 
well today.  But remember, even though you are allowed erections, you 
are only allowed the pleasure of ejaculation only at Mistress 
Jennifer's discretion.  Any unauthorized emissions are strictly 
forbidden, and you will be severely punished if you take any personal 
pleasure on your own.  Stallion sperm is a highly valued commodity; 
you are not allowed to let the slightest drop go to waste."  

	It was over quickly.  With a few sharp breaths I could feel 
my eruption build as my scrotum finally tightened to bring my 
tortured balls up close to my body.  Then I felt a warm sensation as 
my sperm gushed from the tip of my cock and splattered into a copper 
bowl that Heather directed my aim at.  I shot seven copious jets of 
sperm out of my cock; a year and a half's worth from being confined 
in a chastity belt as a servant boy .  I felt a little peck on the 
cheek and looked to see Heather dip one of her index fingers into the 
bowl and spread a few drops of my emission onto her cheek.  "You 
produced so much that I think I can take a few drops for me," she 
said gleefully.  "I'm sure the Mistress will be very pleased with 
your production." 

	Another sharp tug, this time from the leash, brought me back 
to reality from the daydream I had about that glorious first day in 
training.  I blinked my eyes to bring my objective back into focus.  
This was to be my final test in order to be recognized as a true 
stallion.  I had to compete in a big race, not those little club 
races held on the lawn of the Mistresses mansion.  I did well in 
those races.  Ahead was the big race.  The Queen's Race Day.

  The race track spread out in front was just like the "circus" 
chariot race track from Ben Hur.  The surface of the track was dusty 
dirt and the track was configured in an oval with a wooden fence at 
the center of the track dividing the race track into two halves.  I 
could see that the turns would be very sharp, tight, and with all the 
other competitors, crowded.  The race length was set at 5 laps.  It 
was to be a strength and endurance test.  Along the outside of the 
straight-aways were crowd filled bleachers, two sets of bleachers at 
each straight-away.  I would say that the size of the crowd numbered 
over two hundred.  At the center of the first straight-away stood the 
Queen's grandstand.  The grandstand was covered with red bunting.  
Her Majesty, the Queen, was seated on a throne at the center of the 
grandstand; he attendants, servant boys, and personal guests were 
spread out around her.  This race was the culmination of one of the 
Female Dominant Society festivals.  Most of the members of this 
special society were in attendance.  The Pony Girls had just raced, 
they were still lined up inside the railing of the track, just below 
the grandstand.  Now it was our turn to race.

  Three trumpeters sounded two sharp blasts.  Everyone present 
snapped their heads to see the Queen of the Female Dominant Society 
rise and address the crowd from a microphone podium.  She was dressed 
in a long flowing regal red gown.  Her brunet hair waved in the 
gentile wind.   "Welcome to the last event of this festivity," the 
Queen proclaimed in a deep voice.  "This is my most favorite event of 
the festival.  We are about to see male stallions race for our 
pleasure."  A wild shrilly cheer went up from the mistresses and 
ladies in the audience.  "As Queen, it is my prerogative to place a 
few conditions on the race to make it all the more enjoyable for 
us."  At this, the Queen smirked and paused for a moment.  "To the 
gallant stallion who wins this race, I shall award that stallion the 
privilege and honor of his choice of pony girl to stud with 
tonight."  Laughter and applause arose from the crowd as some of the 
pony girls nervously drew their legs closer together.  The crowd 
quieted down as the Queen continued, "Now, as for the loser of this 
race.  He will have proven that he is no stallion at all.  His 
punishment for poor performance will fit his deed,...that unworthy 
pony will be gelded here before us all!"  At that pronouncement the 
loudest wild cheer went up from the crowd.  The crowd was now fully 
attentive and aroused for the race to begin.  The Queen's Race was 
always filled with surprises.

 	I could not believe my ears at the Queen's last statement.  
Gelded!  In front of the whole crowd.  A nervous tingle passed up and 
down my whole body.  My mind was spinning with thoughts.  There were 
three possible outcomes for me at the end of the race: I could win 
and therefor take the pony girl of my choice to the stable for sexual 
pleasure this evening, I could simply place in the race and achieve 
official Racing Stallion status, or I could fail totally and be 
gelded.  

 	A knot began to build in my stomach as I readied my self for 
the race.  At that moment I realized that I was at a disadvantageous 
spot in the starting line.  I was at the center of a line of twelve 
stallion racing carts; I would have to jostle to get to the inside 
and at the same time I would have to contend with the other racers 
jostling me as they tried for the inside.  Then, I stole a quick 
glance to my right and left to size up my opposition.  Size up was 
right.  I could not believe what I was facing as competition.  All of 
the other stallions looked like chiseled Greek statues.  Their thigh 
muscles rippled as they shifted their weight on their heels and their 
chests and forearms bulged with muscles.  Some of the stallions must 
surely have been pumped up with some kind of steroids.  I was fit and 
trim, but, not as well built as my competitors.  I could feel my 
heart rate quicken as I mentally set my goal: to not be castrated 
into a gelding.  My cock seemed to stiffen past its usual length and 
my scrotum contracted to bring my balls closer to my body at that 
thought.

	A final jerk at the reigns brought me to full, stiff, 
attention.  My fate was before me.  The starter signaled "Ready!".  I 
could sense all the other competitors tense their muscles.  I felt my 
heart thumping in my chest as I waited for the starting gun to go 
off.  Suddenly.....CRACK!  The gun went off.  Simultaneously, I 
lunged forward as Mistress Jennifer swatted my buttocks with the 
crop.  The crowd roared with delight as our cocks bounced up and down 
from the sudden start.  I think my cock must have slapped against my 
stomach at least three times before it settled down to its normal 
race bouncing rithem.

	As I suspected, I was in a tough position at the start.  I 
could not make it to the inside of the track until the inside 
starters were well ahead of me.  I had to wither several jostles to 
maintain my position and keep from getting passed by the racers to my 
outside.  I went out at a full gallop, though, I could not believe 
the speed at which the lead group was outdistancing me.  Mistress 
Jennifer cracked the crop over my shoulders a few times to exert more 
speed out of my straining legs.  Entering the first turn I was 
basically alone in the middle of the pack.  Then I saw that there 
were quite different rules in this race than what I was used to.  
Several Mistresses in the lead group delivered devastating blows to 
the stallions of mistresses to their sides.  The carts banged against 
each other as the racers jostled for position.  I knew then that this 
was free for all, winner takes all, Ben-Hur type of race rules.  My 
grip on the cart handles tightened as I entered the turn and tried to 
pour on more speed.  Mistress Jennifer yelled "Faster, faster, or 
I'll swat your balls right off!"

	I knew I could not keep up the fast gallop I had set at the 
start of the race.  As I drew closer to end of the fourth lap I was 
neck and neck with 2 other competitors in the last group.  I was at 
the center of the group as the trumpet for the final lap went off.  
Mistress Jennifer cracked the shaft of the crop squarely at the 
center of my scrotum and stinging the bottom of my cock shaft, 
extorting me to go faster.  I had endured several blows to my 
testicles in the preceding laps.  A shot of pain went up my back as 
my balls smacked into each other as they returned to position after 
Mistresses last blow.  I stayed neck and neck with the other two as 
we galloped at full power down the straight away.  My thighs felt as 
though they were on fire, my calf muscles were in knots, my forearms 
ached from the stress of the cart, my back and buttocks were covered 
with searing crop marks from Mistress Jennifer's exertions to get me 
to go faster, my scrotum was raw and my balls were sending streams of 
pain through my body as they bounced against my legs.

	As we entered the turn the outside cart banged into Mistress 
Jennifer's cart.  That contact slowed me just enough for the inside 
racer to pull away from me as we exited the turn.  I quickly went for 
the inside lane as I  pounded down the last straight way before the 
finish line.  I was neck and neck with that outside racer who bumped 
my cart in the turn.  Sweat poured into my eyes as I fixed my sight 
on my target, the finish line.  The race was now down to me and the 
stallion to my right.  Mistress Jennifer also knew this, she slammed 
the crop onto my buttocks and yelled "this is it, faster, faster, or 
you will be last."  Last!  That word hung in the air.  I pumped my 
knees as high as I could to lengthen my stride.  Twenty five yards to 
go.  My lungs were seared with each breath, my forearms felt as if 
hot pokers were jabbing them, but, I was beginning to outdistance my 
opponent.  I had pulled a few inches ahead of his body.  Then it 
happened.

	At the same moment the riding crop caught my scrotum dead 
center, smashing my testicles to each side, and the stallion on my 
outside lunged forward and bit me on my right triceps muscle.  Both 
blows at once threw me off balance.  The hit from the crop threw my 
stride and the shock and pain from the bit to my arm caused me to 
drop the handles of cart down.  I stumbled, caught my balance, then 
stumbled again.  By the time I regained my balance it was all over.  
My opponent crossed the finish line a step in front of me.  There 
were no other racers behind me.  I had lost!  I had lost the race and 
I was going to lose my testicles as punishment.  I was too exhausted 
to react emotionally or physically.  I was beaten.