Life in the Harness

- by Trey McJustice.
Rewritten and edited for SirJeff's website.

Chapter One, Part Two

Next morning ThickThighs, StrongLegs and HardRun were awakened just after dawn by WideMouth, who dumped a small portion of slop in their trough and then waited as the harnessgirls ate in turn. When they were finished she led them to the rear of the stable, where Master Golm awaited with ThinLips. The carriage-pullers were rigorously stretched, then belled and harnessed to the runabout.

As WideMouth greased ThickThighs' anus and applied a foxtail, Master Golm tightened the straps which held the harnessgirl's arms behind her back.

"Tomorrow we'll give you a dogtail, slut," he said, smacking her ass sharply. "You'll enjoy that, won't you?"

"Masteryesmaster!" gasped ThickThighs, as her stomach roiled with anxiety. The thought of pulling a carriage with one of the monstrous ass-sticks in her bowels was terrifying.

She felt Master Golm's hand slide between her thighs, one thick finger rubbing her clitoris. She shuddered, her nipples and clit hardening instantly.

For half a minute he stroked her clit vigorously, until her body trembled helplessly on the verge of climax.

Then, just as she felt herself about to erupt in orgasm, Master Golm removed his hand.

"Oh, master!" sobbed ThickThighs, hips writhing.

"Hush, cunt," said Master Golm. "Or I'll rip those tits off."

Cowed, ThickThighs lowered her head and moaned in misery as Master Golm turned his attention to each of her harnessmates in turn. Both girls climaxed quickly.

Golm gestured WideMouth to approach, and as the laborer dropped to her knees before him he shoved his fingers into her mouth. She enthusiastically sucked away the carriage-pullers' juices, much to her master's amusement.

Golm wiped her spittle off in her hair and climbed into the seat of the runabout, grabbed up the reins.

"Hup, hup! Let's move, girls!"

ThickThighs felt the sting of the riding crop against her ass, her breasts shaken by the reins. Body still flush and loins drooling with lust, she leaned into the traces.

WideMouth and ThinLips ran ahead to open the front stable doors, and Master Golm directed the harnessgirls out the doors and to the left, urging them to a jog as they passed Master Ralf's smithy.

The morning air was cool, at least ten degrees lower than inside the stable, and it invigorated ThickThighs. She ran tirelessly for her master, who drove about a mile and a half down the road before turning to the left onto a narrow dirt path.

The path wound through a large grove of trees, and Master Golm manuevered his girls through it at a slow trot. The undergrowth was dense, often obscuring the trail, and long stalks of grass occassionally whipped the girls' legs.

"ThickThighs!" called Master Golm, swatting her ass with his crop. "What do you do if you see a snake in front of us?"

"Master ... ThickThighs would ... SCREAM, master!" she panted.

"That's correct!" cried Golm, smacking her with the crop again. "Often your driver won't be able to see a snake until it's too late. You have to give warning."

"Masteryesmaster!"

Soon the path came to a small watering hole, formed by an underground stream feeding into a shallow depression about three feet wide. Master Golm halted his girls beside it; ThickThighs stared into the water, licking her lips. Her throat was parched and gritty with dust.

"Drink up, girls," said Master Golm.

With a gasp of thanks ThickThighs sank to her knees and leaned toward the water. She and her harnessmates crowded close together so they might all have access to the watering hole.

"Alright, girls," said Golm half a minute later. "That's enough. On your feet."

The harnessgirls rose reluctantly and waited as their master climbed back in his seat, pulled the right rein to turn the girls back onto the path. He halted them at the foot of a huge oak.

"Now, ThickThighs," said Master Golm. "What can a hungry carriage-puller eat here?"

ThickThighs scanned the area around the tree, saw a few stunted mushrooms, a thick patch of mossy grass, several stray stalks of weed. Her driver shook the reins impatiently, and she cried, "Master, ThickThighs does not know, master!"

"Show her, StrongLegs," said Master Golm.

StrongLegs dropped to her knees and strained forward in the traces to put her face in the mossy grass at the base of the oak. With her teeth she tugged a small portion free, chewed it briefly and swallowed. She looked up at ThickThighs, dirt and moss falling from her lips.

"Avoid mushrooms," Master Golm was saying. "Many of them are poisonous. StrongLegs or HardRun can show you all the edible grasses. Sometimes you'll be lucky enough to catch a small insect, though that takes a lot of practice when you can't use your arms."

StrongLegs pulled up another morsel, revealing a large pale worm which writhed in the soft earth. With a cry of delight, the fem hastily dropped her face to the dirt and captured it with her lips, triumphantly gulped it down.

ThickThighs gasped, nauseated. Master Golm chuckled.

"Ah, yes -- worms are also very good for you," said Golm. "But don't chew them. They're apparently pretty disgusting if you don't swallow them whole."

He clucked sharply and tugged the reins to the right; StrongLegs hopped back to her feet and the harnessgirls returned to the path. They wound their way back to the road, where Master Golm turned them toward home and urged them to a quick jog.

A dog was barking spiritedly nearby. ThickThighs paid little heed, concentrating instead on even breathing and a steady stride. She had to take three steps for every two of her much larger harnessmates, and she was beginning to tire. But she was determined not to stumble today, no matter how exhausted she became.

The barking drew closer and more aggressive, and ThickThighs was alarmed to hear the animal sprinting up from behind them.

"Steady, girls," called Master Golm. "Heads up, eyes forward. It's just another wild dog."

ThickThighs felt the reins grow taut as the master took in the slack. She longed to feel the sting of the crop against her ass, urging her to a gallop; but Golm held their pace steady.

The dog was running alongside them now, snarling and growling. ThickThighs whimpered, fighting an urge to glance back at the beast. At any moment she expected it to snap at her heels, trip her up.

She heard the crack of Master Golm's big whip and the painful yelp of the dog -- and suddenly the danger was past. The dog fell back, halted in the middle of the road and barked passionately.

"Well done, girls," said Master Golm. "Now let's MOVE -- hup!" He cracked his whip above their heads, and they speedily accelerated to a gallop.

He made the girls sustain the pace for half a mile, until ThickThighs was completely winded; then he eased them back to a trot. ThickThighs, head lolling and tongue protruding, plodded doggedly forward. She staggered more than once, but did not fall.

Master Golm slowed the girls to a walk for the last few hundred yards, and when he finally brought them to a halt at the rear of the stable ThickThighs could not help sinking to her knees. WideMouth began unharnessing the fems and Golm stepped down from the runabout, squatted next to ThickThighs. She had her forehead in the dirt, struggling to breathe.

"You continue to impress me, cunt," Master Golm assured her, putting a hand atop her head. He rubbed the stubbly scalp affectionately.

She lifted her head, wanting to thank her master -- but instead she retched weakly, soiling the toe of his boot. Whimpering with anxiety she quickly licked his boot clean, and he arose with a chuckle and turned away.

"WideMouth," he said. "Make sure these cunts are shaved this afternoon."

"Masteryesmaster," cried the laborer.

ThickThighs slept soundly after she and her harnessmates were returned to the stall, and she felt surprisingly refreshed when she was awakened an hour later to be shaved.

The shaving was pleasant. WideMouth and ThinLips, expertly wielding their straight razors, worked together on each girl, and shaved them head to toe in ten minutes apiece.

A one-inch area at the crown of ThickThighs' head was left unshaven. She fingered the stubble self-consciously as she admired the lengthy topknot sprouting from StrongLegs' head. How long would it take her to grow hair as long as that?

Their task complete, WideMouth and ThinLips departed without a word, and the harnessgirls were alone in their stall. StrongLegs reclined in the straw, stared silently into space. HardRun sat with her back against the feeding trough and gazed at the wall.

ThickThighs had never realized how much of a harnessgirl's life was spent waiting idly in a stall. She played with herself without enthusiasm for half an hour, then lay back and dozed fitfully.

She awoke with a gasp, rescued by the arrival of WideMouth from an unpleasant dream she could not recall. The labor girl had opened the gate, and was standing in the entranceway.

"Master Golm want StrongLegs and HardRun now," said WideMouth. "He say cunts hurry!"

The two harnessgirls arose silently and exited; WideMouth closed the gate behind them. Then she peered back over the gate at ThickThighs and said, "WideMouth come back for ThickThighs soon."

ThickThighs awaited WideMouth's return impatiently, anxious but eager to join her stallmates in master's harness. For half an hour she waited, then she heard several harnessgirls trotting toward the front of the stable. Looking through the slats in the gate she saw StrongLegs and HardRun harnessed with four other fems to one of the carriages, driven by Master Golm.

WideMouth came for her shortly after and led her to the rear of the stable where NoName and another young harnessgirl were being stretched by ThinLips and GoodWork. To one side stood the femdick LittleTits. Her lips were ringed shut, her breasts chained tightly to her navel ring. Seeing ThickThighs approach, her mouth curled with malicious amusement.

ThickThighs had never been driven by any of the femdicks; the idea filled her with excitement and dread. At WideMouth's direction she lay on her back beside NoName and submitted to several minutes of stretching.

She noted that the light blond bristles of NoName's topknot was only an inch high, while the other carriage-puller's hair was less than three inches. They were both relatively new to the stable then.

The stretching completed, the three fems climbed to their feet and were harnessed to the runabout. While they were being equipped with breast bells and foxtails, LittleTits went back over their fittings and invariably tightened every strap. Finally satisfied, she climbed into the driver's seat and took up the reins and whip -- there would be no clitoral stimulation from the femdick.

ThickThighs felt the reins shaken vigorously, heard LittleTits grunt. All three harnessgirls started forward.

The femdick drove the girls out of the stable, turned them to the right -- toward Master Bregu's house. The whip cracked above their heads, the reins shook again, and the carriage-pullers accelerated to a jog. Weary laborers, returning from the fields, scurried out of their way. ThickThighs glimpsed a femdick nod in greeting to LittleTits.

The sun was low, scarcely an hour before sunset; the day was quickly losing its warmth.

ThickThighs wondered where they were being driven, where Master Bregu could be going so late. The thought of pulling Master Bregu in the carriage was curiously pleasing -- a new opportunity to prove that she was not worthless to her Master.

The whip cracked again and NoName squealed with pain; a moment later ThickThighs felt the lash against her own ass and gasped sharply. The girls accelerated once more, hustling their mistress down the road at a near-gallop.

Why is she tiring us out? thought ThickThighs in dismay.

They reached the foot of the hill and started up. To ThickThighs the incline had never seemed so steep. She strained forward, felt the blood pounding in her ears. Beside her, NoName was groaning with effort. The whip cracked above them, as if they might be urged to pull harder.

They quickly slowed to a trot; then, halfway up the hill, slowed further to a walk. All three fems were gasping and panting. ThickThighs's vision was blurred, growing dim, but she set her jaw and advanced determinedly.

As they neared the house the hill became less steep, and LittleTits consequently urged the girls faster. The lash cracked against ThickThighs' ass three times in succession, and the poor girl sobbed in misery. She willed herself faster, however, though her legs trembled with fatigue.

As they passed the side of the house she felt the tug of the rein at her right breast, and turned with her harnessmates. She was surprised to find that no one was waiting for them in front of the house.

ThickThighs cringed, anticipating the pull of the reins as LittleTits brought them to a halt. But instead she heard the femdick grunting insistently, and the lash striking both her harnessmates. Confused, ThickThighs began to accelerate, but did not escape a pair of spirited blows from the whip.

The harnessgirls raced past the house, gasping and panting. LittleTits yanked at the right rein again, and the girls turned round the corner of the house, back in the direction they had come. As they began to descend the hill she jerked on the reins lightly, slowing them to a trot.

Descending the hill was naturally much less difficult than climbing it. The danger was in gathering too much momentum and falling down. But LittleTits applied light pressure to the wheel brakes, ensuring the harnessgirls would not outrun themselves.

When they reached the bottom of the hill LittleTits slowed them to a walk, then turned them about and headed back toward the hill. ThickThighs groaned and accelerated under the encouragement of the lash.

They hauled their mistress back up the hill, advancing even more slowly than their first ascent. ThickThighs' legs began to ache, her calves and thighs knotting and spasming mildly. She ground her teeth to choke off her sobs, eyes screwed shut against the pain. Her attention was drawn to the sound of their breast bells, steadily rhythmically clanking. She listened to the bells, tried to think of nothing else as they went up the hill.

After what seemed liked several minutes -- though it was in all likelihood no more than half a minute -- ThickThighs felt the jerk of the rein, and turned obediently to the right. They trundled past the front of the house, rounded the far corner, and descended the hill.

At the bottom they were slowed to a walk, turned about and directed again toward the hill. All three harnessgirls whimpered in unison as they accelerated on leaden legs to the foot of the hill and began to climb again.

ThickThighs lowered her head and kept her legs moving. Her heart hammered so violently against her ribs she felt certain it would burst at any moment. She had heard of carriage-pullers dropping dead in the harness, and geniunely feared such a fate was about to befall her.

Her body was encompassed in a wave of heat, and she felt her flesh prickling. Her head spun and lights erupted before her eyes. Suddenly the weight of the runabout seemed to be lifted from her, and she could no longer feel her legs churning, or the harness straps chafing her, or the heavy bells dangling from her breasts.

She was not breathing, but she did not feel short of breath. She was aware only of the pounding of her heart, filling her ears, filling her head. Its beat was strong, and regular, and very fast.

She heard the crack of the lash against a girl's flesh; it sounded far away.

She heard the crack again -- and again.

Her buttocks began to burn, and she realized LittleTits was whipping HER. The lash fell again, and this time she felt it against her backside, a dull pain. She gasped, jerked her head up, breathed deeply.

The rein yanked at her right breast, and she turned. They were passing once more in front of the house. Gradually ThickThighs began to feel the harness straps against her body, the ground under her feet, the weight of the carriage.

They turned at the far end of the house, and loped back down the hill. When they reached the bottom ThickThighs was limping heavily, both legs cramping with fatigue. Then she felt the pull of the rein on her breast, and realized LittleTits intended to drive them back up the hill. She sobbed loudly, stumbled and fell to one knee. LittleTits struck her fiercely with her lash, grunting emphatically.

Weeping, ThickThighs regained her feet and staggered forward. As they reached the incline she leaned hard into the traces, her body trembling violently with exertion. Beside her, NoName was pulling with all her might, and ThickThighs marveled at the girl's determination.

They advanced step by step, digging their toes into the turf with each footfall in an effort to gain as much leverage as possible. Nevertheless, before they were even a third of the way up the hillside they came to a standstill; they leaned far forward in the harness, bodies quivering as they strained to hold the runabout in place.

LittleTits was not pleased. She lashed their buttocks till the blood ran in rivulets down their thighs. The girls whimpered and groaned, but could go no further.

ThickThighs was weeping, wincing with every blow from the lash. She wanted desperately to lift her leg and take a step, to appease the femdick; but she knew that her body could not obey. She was near collapse, and her harnessmates were surely no less exhausted.

The lashing stopped. For several moments the harnessgirls waited in agony. Then ThickThighs felt the rein yank at her right breast. A second later came another yank, harder. She gasped in pain and started to turn.

Her knees buckled, and she collapsed on her face; NoName staggered. For a moment the runabout began to drift backward, but then stopped abruptly as LittleTits stomped on the brake bar. The femdick struck ThickThighs once with the lash, urging the harnessgirl to her feet. Then she shook the reins and the girls turned unsteadily and staggered down the hill.

Excruciating cramps awoke ThickThighs in the predawn gloom. She sat upright and sobbed, both her legs spasming violently from calves to thighs. She pounded her fists against her thighs, dug her fingers into the knotted muscles, threw back her head and groaned in agony.

She was aware of StrongLegs and HardRun stirring nearby, and of rain falling hard against the stable's roof.

After only a few seconds the cramps began to fade, and ThickThighs lay back panting and cringing, rubbing her legs vigorously.

She tried to sleep but was now wide awake, and when WideMouth came to rouse them shortly after dawn ThickThighs was still massaging her aching legs.

The laborer fed them, then led the way back to the old familiar runabout. ThickThighs groaned inwardly to see LittleTits awaiting them with arms folded. Her lips were not ringed shut, but were chained to her breasts and ears.

"Hurry, hurry," said LittleTits. "Stretch the cunts. Harness them." She motioned to GoodWork, kneeling at her feet, to assist WideMouth.

The carriage-pullers were quickly stretched and harnessed, their breasts belled and assholes lubricated. Then LittleTits approached carrying three dogtails, and ThickThighs whimpered in misery. She had forgotten Master Golm's decision to use the huge ass-sticks on them today.

LittleTits put one hand on ThickThighs's ass and placed the end of the ass-stick against the girl's rectum. She began to pry it into her body, cooing with pleasure as the harnessgirl's sphincter gaped for the enormous intruder.

ThickThighs shuddered, almost sank to her knees. "Oh mistress!" she moaned. "Please, mistress!" She grit her teeth, tried to assist the femdick by forcing her body backward onto the dogtail.

Finally, after more than a minute of effort, the femdick slapped her ass smartly and grunted with satisfaction. "It's in," she announced.

"Thank you, mistress," murmured ThickThighs, suddenly overcome with dizziness. She swayed in the harness as LittleTits tailed StrongLegs and HardRun without difficulty.

Then the femdick climbed into the runabout, took up the reins and cracked her whip.

ThickThighs advanced, cringing with pain. Every step was awkward; she had difficulty keeping her knees straight. But the intense discomfort was somewhat offset by her pride at having successfully engulfed the entire ass-stick. As they trotted out of the stable she held her head high, the magnificent dogtail swaying between her legs.

LittleTits drove them all the way back to the small watering hole Master Golm had taken them to the morning before. This time the journey seemed significantly longer, even though LittleTits was not one to spare the lash.

The unaccustomed bulk of the ass-stick made the trip especially onerous for ThickThighs. By the time they reached the watering hole ThickThighs could taste bile at the back of her throat. Her sides ached and her legs were cramping again.

LittleTits brought them to a halt. "Drink," she said, stepping down from the runabout and approaching the water.

The harnessgirls knelt, crowding together. ThickThighs lapped lustily, eager to wash down the bile. Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed LittleTits's boots by her shoulder.

"Thirty seconds," said the femdick.

"On your feet, sluts," she called. "Let's see how fast we can get your fat asses home!"

The next day ThickThighs and GoodWork cleaned out the stalls. It was easy work compared to hauling carriages, and the labor girl was good company. She was friendly, even respectful, though she tended to go on endlessly about pleasure-ponies and cocks and semen. GoodWork, of course, could masturbate during the trips to the dung heap, but poor ThickThighs had no way to vent the lust generated by her companion's conversation. She had to endure it, wet and frustrated.

When they returned, Master Golm immediately harnessed her with five other carriage-pullers to one of Bregu's coaches. They were harnessed three abreast, the bigger girls in front and the smaller directly behind them.

"We've got to have you ready for tomorrow," Master Golm said as he tightened the straps against her body. He did not elaborate.

ThickThighs had never pulled a carriage with more than two harnessmates. She found the prospect exciting. As WideMouth and GoodWork applied foxtails and bells to all the carriage-pullers, Master Golm fingered each girl's clit for the usual half-minute. ThickThighs did not come close to orgasm; but NoName, harnessed next to her, climaxed intensely.

When all six girls were readied, Master Golm climbed into the driver's seat and took up the reins.

"Hup, hup -- let's go."

The girls bent forward, proceeded slowly toward the stable doors. Once out of the stable, Master Golm turned them to the left, urged them faster with the lash.

The coach, though bigger than the runabout, seemed lighter with so many fems pulling it. Only when they had been whipped to a full gallop did ThickThighs feel much strain.

Her face was just inches from the backside of the carriage-puller in front of her, and she could see nothing save for the big fem's foxtail. She grimaced at the powerful odor of the girl's sex.

Master Golm drove them several miles down the road, alternating full gallops with more leisurely trotting. Then, as the afternoon grew late, he simply turned them about and returned to the stable.

Copyright ©ªªªªªª© Trey McJustice. All rights reserved. Posted here with permission.
Do not repost nor repurpose without permission.