Centaurian

Tim led me to her, bringing me alongside her elevated position, and for the first time I actually looked at her from an equal height, she smiled and held the device out for me to see. She then reached out a small hand and gently touched my face, smiling reassuringly as she gently lifted the halter over my head and the bit into my mouth in one subtle move. I felt the bit between my teeth, its presence and taste unfamiliar, and the straps of the device enclosing my head as she buckled it. Then she lifted the reins over my head and let them slowly fall behind my torso where they gathered in a pile at the small of my back on the equine half.

I felt her take the pressure of the rein and bit, holding me steady as she mounted . I barely felt her weight settle, let alone its presence on my back along with the saddle. Tim helped her place her booted feet by holding the stirrups steady on either side and then withdrew a small distance.

I found her presence and the devices of control making me compare the time I was ridden by the small child. In that I was totally in control yet now I must convince myself that I have submitted willingly to this indignity, to a loss of my sense of me and what I am, surrendering them to the to the bit and bridle and her will.

She seemed to sense my compliance and gently touched her heels to my sides, making a clicking noise with her tongue that I have noticed humans using when urging their beasts, and though I barely felt her heels touch my sides, I moved forward to comply with her intent, only to feel the pressure of the bit pulling to the left on my jaw, indicating her desire to be carried left.

Tim had been busy and had opened the gate, and he was now standing by it. She eased the pressure on my mouth when facing it and gently heeled me forward in that direction.

We cleared the gate and I felt the sand give way to real dirt, yet also to an uneven surface and she let me move slow at first, barely walking and picking my way, getting used to the sensation of being ridden.

We soon moved through the keep and its big open gates, these I tried to look at it in detail but she kept pulling the reins to straighten my head each time I turned it to look.

Now she kicked me a little harder and I picked up my feet and the pace, moving into a trot, yet like before, different than when I had no one upon my back. She held me to this as we moved a little further away from the keep and out into open spaces.

We crossed the top of a small hill and found a large meadow where she made it obvious that we were to pick up speed by kicking me several times and this time I actually felt the pressure of the spurs and moved up in speed and gait, yet she kicked me again and I soon moved to a headlong gallop, feeling her move with my rhythm, accompanying it rather than fighting it.

I felt her pull the reins back and I let the pressure pull me to stop, settling my haunches low rearing up a little as I pulled up from the headlong run, showing off at the end justto show how much fun I was having. I felt her take her feet from the stirrups and wondered as to why she was going to dismount here in such a barren area, To my surprise she climbed not down, but higher. I felt her kneel on the saddle then stand on it, wobbling only a little, the pressure on my mouth holding me steady for whatever she had in mind. I felt her right leg slide over my right shoulder and then her weight settled on both shoulders and neck as she lifted her left leg and gained the higher seat, and I felt surprise, for never had I this sensation before nor had I expected this turn of events.

Her small feet were now visible as they sat halfway up my human sides and the spurs shone brightly against the leather of her boots. I felt her lift her feet clear of my sides and then jab them into my ribs, I was unprepared for the pain for my equine flesh was far tougher and she mistook my response for reticence so she kicked me twice, a little harder and actually made that strange clicking noise with her tongue, urging me to move.

I certainly didn't want her kicking me any harder so I moved forward, guided by her firm hold on the reins. I felt her relax a little as she grew more sure of her seat at this height and she kicked me to a slow run with a several harsh stabs to my ribs. I felt her trousers chapping the back of my neck and my upper half strained to hold her weight steady as she rode, urging me faster still.

This way of being ridden was far less comfortable for me but she seemed to enjoy it more, her spurs pricking at my sides whether I slowed or not.

I feared that to stumble and pitch her from my shoulders, a considerable height indeed , would hurt her greatly if not kill her and I tried hard to slow down and pick my way before me. My tiny burden, whom I had barely felt upon my equine back had discovered the response of control of the human half could suffer and would allow no slacking of the pace, her heels kicking sharply and often to my heaving ribs.

I found the pain lessening as my ribs grew bruised and insensitive but her insistence with her goads played now on my mind more than on my flesh and I desired to see this to its end. My gait was unfamiliar and harsh trying to compensate for the unusual weight on my front legs, it sent a shock up through my human half with each pounding step and I felt her response to it as I circled the open area. She much more interested in sensation than destination.

By now I was working hard and starting to lather up pretty good when something I have never encountered happened, she clenched hard around my neck with her thighs and a flood of hot thickish water flowed down my neck and back as she gasped for breath. My racing mind between harsh breaths thought the females water had broken and that she was about to give birth. As healer I had assisted in the birth of many of our kind and I hoped humans would be easier, less legs to tangle but as I slowed in my concern she viciously jabbed her heels into my ribs twice and yelled “go faster damn you”.

I picked up speed again, and in less than second I felt her reactions a second time, pressed hard against my neck as her spurs pressed against my ribs, and she laughed out loud, I realised now she was more in ecstasy than pain and was actually having fun.

I felt the harshness of the bit as she used it to pull herself harder against my neck and I thought she wanted to slow the pace, but her spurs spoke other wise and she stabbed them hard at me, not feeling or caring beyond whatever rapture now held her.

Soon I felt her relax and start panting for breath and this time when I felt her pull back on the bit, it was to slow down. My throat was incredibly dry by now for a huge volume of air must travel down my throat when my lower lungs inflate under a spirited run. Even the drool I had experienced around the bit had dried up and it no longer tasted metallic in my mouth.

As she relaxed further, I hoped she might again move to my lower back as my shoulders and neck had now ached for some time with her weight and it was indeed uncomfortable. Even thought the reins would not permit me to lower my head and look at my torso, I knew there would be some serious bruising just from the pain in my ribs.

As her breathing subsided further, she touched her heels to me in a much gentler fashion though it felt severe to me, and clicked her tongue in that odd way and I feared she would ride astride my shoulders all the way home.

She guided me close to a small tree where she manoeuvred me under a branch and used the strength of her arms to lift herself clear of my shoulders. I felt her boots wobble on the saddle before she finally collapsed heavily into it, leaning hard against the ridge of the pommel, her legs clear of the stirrups and high up on my rear flanks. Soon I felt her swing upright, and though I felt her place her feet into the stirrups, and draw a surer hold on the reins, I barely felt her touch the cruel spurs to my lower ribs, my upper ones working hard , trying to breath against the abuse they had suffered.

It came to me that I had lost all thought of escape and the realisation that now was as good a chance as any yet as I tensed to rear and drop her clear I heard the heavy drumming of several horses approaching at high speed and I felt her gather herself as I cursed my bad luck. I felt her movement as she placed her feet again into the stirrups, and as I turned my head to glimpse the approaching men. I barely saw them bent low and heavily armoured on the backs of their sweating mounts before she pulled my view forward and heeled her spurs to me to make me leap from the shade of the tree and head at a goodly pace towards them.

The rider in front sat up as he drew near and I felt her pull the bit to slow me again, as they pulled close to each other. The man who led was wearing leather armour, lighter for the ride and speed.

He hailed her with a warrior's gruffness and disdain, while his men held their horses, stamping impatiently and breathing hard.

“We have word of the enemy near M'lady, it would do well for you return at once to the compound”

I saw him look me over with her astride my back and watched as he decided whether to make comment or not, then choose to do so anyway

“It seems you risk more than an enemy arrow or perhaps you are indeed seeking their arms or their rape, I suspect once such as you may enjoy it, thus you are here alone yet astride such a strange beast”

He barely looked at her as he spoke, his disrespect so obvious on his face more than in his words,

“As much as you enjoy the excuse of war for your murder and looting” she spat back “Forget not your place Eldron and forget not who is King still in this realm”

“M'lady, a friendly warning, take care in how you cross me, one day soon my lord shall own all this and you too, both given with your fathers blessing” he sneered.

He turned in his saddle and pointed out a man,

“Protect our Lady on her journey home, make sure she gets there”

He did not again at her before heeling his horse away with a harsh cry and a gesture to the men who followed him.

My rider showed her disgust by kicking me several times with her spurs and forcing me into an angry headlong dash for the Keep at the insistence of her heels. It seemed she wanted to leave the soldier behind and her spurs jabbed at my sides conveying her anger.

We neared the barn and the training yard, I heard the following horse drop back as its rider pulled it aside. We however tore through the open gate of the training yard and into the barn at full speed, where with her feet pressing the stirrups to give her arms the strength, she pulled me to a skidding halt, my rear momentarily touching the ground as I slid, trying to maintain balance with my head pulled harshly back.

I felt her slide from my back once I had regained my feet then throw the reins from her in her anger, pacing as she tried to control her ire. I saw her eyes as she glared suddenly at me, and they softened as a look of concern come over her face when she saw the developing bruises on my upper ribs. Then the look of horror as she realised what her cruel goads had achieved on my human flesh.

Tears formed as she moved to me, touching my sore ribs with genuine care,

“I have used you horribly, you poor thing. I have become that which I despised, one like my husband who cares for none save himself and what he can get from others.”

She sat on the dirty ground and took off her spurs, casting them from her as if they repulsed her and wiped her hands once she stood, a gesture that said she was done with them and their use.

She gathered what lineaments and lotions the groom used on the horses and applied them to my blackening flesh, her tender fingers rarely giving me cause to tense or draw my breath in pain. She then tore a fresh cloth and covered where the spurs had split the skin and caused it to weep, tying it around my torso. Once it seemed her ministrations to me were done, she looked once at me and again broke into tears as she moved to the rail for support. Gathering herself and trying to wipe the puffiness from her eyes, she once again became the royal princess, drew herself to her full height and swept from the barn with a purpose on her quick booted feet. I heard her sniffle as she left and I strained for any further sound of her, though none came.