Track

(story continues from The Investigative Reporter 13) Part 14: Little Fugitive’s Racing Career (part one) (Sorry for the delay on this story, I have had a few projects running at the same time and thought that there wasn’t all that much interest in my finishing this particular one… I have since been corrected, Jackie.) Little Fugitive looked tan and more muscular in her stall as I inspected her the following day, endless paperwork and a tiny bit of apathy keeping me away until then. She didn’t recognize me though, again her eyes told the tale with her vacant stare and accompanying mindless expression, but this time for me face to face. Sam was with me and evidentially proud of his work, I praising his resourcefulness and clever use of her harness time in front of Little Fugitive’s stall just in case some small part of her humanity were still in there (as unlikely as that was), she then knowing I was ultimately responsible for her new lot in life and not he. ...

The eleven girls of the college track team milled about nervously in the corner of the gym, dressed in their sports tops and track shorts. Mostly white, two Asian, one Black, one Latina. Their coach had left suddenly over a pay dispute, and they were waiting to meet her replacement. “I heard it’s a guy,” said one. “Really? They couldn’t find another woman?” “I don’t care. Just as long as they’re good.” ...

Authors note: I like trains, so I wrote this. Note that it is a humor piece, not meant to be real instructions. I have been tied to railroad tracks – can’t say I recommend it. One of the perennial bondage situations is where the Dastardly Villain ties the Beautiful Heroine to the railroad tracks. This is practically the definition of Damsel in Distress. The idea originated in 1867, in a play called “Under the Gaslight”—a man was rescued by the girl in this version, but the melodramatists of the late 19th Century soon got that straightened out. ...

(story continues from The Trip of a Lifetime) Part Two: Stallions Chapter 4 Maria led me by a chain through my nose ring, and took me back to the barn. She made me stand in the middle of the room, lowered the chains, clipped my wrists into the clamps and drew my arms up high in the air so I could barely move. Then she brought a basin of warm water over and carefully washed my cock, talking to me all the time. “Don’t want this lovely weapon of yours getting any germs, do we Rocky? You did well out there, boy, I could see that Daisy enjoyed herself too – she’ll fetch a good price at auction when we come to sell her.” ...