“Whoa, girl,” he commanded, and for a split second I thought he was speaking to someone else, until my reins suddenly snapped angrily.
“NNnnyyaaarrrrgghh,” I howled, attempting to shake my head against the commanding, painful tug of the bit and the rings embedded in the tips of my breasts.
It flapped inside my mouth again and I whinnied in stifled screams when I stopped before him, prancing daintily on the steel horse shoes, in a panic of quivering obedience. He approached, sliding his hands along the straps until they were just centimetres from the connections to the chains, then shook them sharply again, forcing my head and breasts to move uncontrollably to his bidding. Another scream of misery and pain automatically surged from my collared throat, and for the moment he seemed satisfie
