Safe Word: An Erotic SM Novel by Molly Weatherfield

Author:Molly Weatherfield [Weatherfield, Molly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Erotica, Fiction, Sadomasochism, General
ISBN: 9781573441681
Google: 9j1isjKcQPkC
Amazon: 1573441686
Publisher: Cleis Press
Published: 2003-04-15T05:00:00+00:00

But of course Annie was right. I don't think anybody could have prepared me for the sound of a crowd at a pony race. It's a formal dress-up event: The crowd in the stands is like a huge flower bed, luxuriant with the ladies' extravagant hats, buzzing with civilized chatter. And when the ponies are paraded out to the starting line, the hats and suits train their high-tech, precision binoculars at them and scream with hysterical, infantile delight. The time I'd watched from the edge of the track, I'd noticed the sound-I mean, you couldn't really not notice it. But you only really hear it when it's directed at you. It's a kind of growl at first-bored, hungry, fractious-while you wait, tensed, to begin. And then, with the first whip crack, it rears up like a furious, demented beast. It sounds insatiable, but it finally spends itself in vicious laughter, crawling back to its den and regathering its strength and spite for the next race.

I wasn't ready for that sound, my first time. I stumbled at the starting line. My timing was off, my feet wouldn't hit the ground squarely. I finished sixth out of seven.

But by the end of that first race, I'd learned how you had to do it. You had to ride the crowd, to get buoyed up by their jeers, pushed along by the waves of lust and scorn and contemptuous admiration. And I knew that Annie wasn't really displeased with me. "There'll be more races, asshole," she said, slapping my butt and sending me to the stocks where losing ponies had to kneel for the rest of the afternoon in the dust behind the stands, available to anybody who might saunter by on their way to get a beer or a lemonade or to use the porta-potties.

Of course, Mr. Constant had me punished for losing. But then, he might have punished me for anything at all, so there was no point getting too upset about this particular obsession. What was important was that I'd figured out this pony racing thing. I can do this, I said calmly to myself. This is just the kind of bent, demonic thing that I can get behind.

And I did. I surprised everybody-except myself and Annie, I think-by winning the next race. Yeah, winningfuck placing or showing. Blue ribbon winning.

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