Dressage Training

Santo lifted his head at the slight pull on the reins attached to the bit in his mouth and waited for the flick of the whip. He had been instructed that the slight pull would warn that a change of gait signal was about to come. Hamilton and his other two horses had done very well on the last day of competition, winning him the Champion ribbon again—and thus making him the Grand Champion of the competition. He was in a good mood. He also, fully clothed in his dressage outfit, was mounted on Santo’s hips on the queen-sized bed.

This was the second fuck. Today they would fuck into the night, Hamilton wanting Santo fully trained before they returned to Northern Virginia.

Santo was cooperating fully, taking whatever Hamilton wanted to give him. Santo was getting what he had been dreaming of for nearly a year—more than he had been dreaming of.

In the first fuck of the day, they had covered the Trot and the Canter and the Piaffe again, this time with the signals of the reins and whip that went with them—and once again Hamilton, overcome himself, had ended it all at the gallop.

Then they had rested. When he was ready again Hamilton put a docile Santo on all fours again and trained him to the Passage. In this Hamilton was no longer just a hard dick. Santo cried out as Hamilton suddenly thrust hard and deep. Then he held his breath as Hamilton paused there, deep inside him, leaning down and kissing him on the neck. Santo gasped at the long slide out, and then cried out again at the sudden, brutal, deep thrust—and the hold. “The Passage, a prance and then a hold of stance before resuming the prance” Hamilton whispered in Santo’s ear. “Signaled by a tap of the whip on the right flank.” Santo cried out again, as Hamilton repeated the pattern. Again and then again.