(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/Characters/Avatars/NerezaAvatar03.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">NEREZA FABRIZIO</span></span><br/><strong>Location:</strong>Travelling through the city to arrive at the Quai Albert 1er.<br/><strong>With:</strong>Leotie Dominguez and Titty the pony-girl.<br/><br/>From the club (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=158034.msg7281678#msg7281678) the night-time journey through the city was delightful. The air was still hot, the baked heat radiating off the concrete and tarmac from the long hours of sunshine. The streets were busy, the bars crowded. Exclusive boutiques stayed open late in summer to entrap tourists those few hours more.<br/><br/>The place was a whirl of lights, street lights, signs, illuminated name boards above restaurants and bars, the headlamps of cars and winking tail lights. I snuggled Leotie against me as we went and at each stop in the traffic I feasted on her soft lips and willing tongue, a spare hand, if I had one, cupping a breast to tease a nipple and force a small moan from her throat.<br/><br/>The roads down to the quay were all downhill. Titty had merely to walk, while leaning back into the sulky a little to control its descent. I held the handbrake partly on down the steeper grades or she would have been crushed under the runaway vehicle and Leotie and I pitched on top of her in a heap.<br/><br/>Within twenty minutes we arrived at the quay, the swimming pool on one side and the chinking of a thousand rigging lines against aluminium masts on the other like the chirping of a million man-made cicadas. The ferry stop was a section of uncluttered wharf, used by the launches of the bigger yachts out in the bay. I parked the sulky and pulled the brake on, stepping down from the foot-board. A man in a crisp white yachts crewman’s uniform was nearby.<br/><br/><strong>“Le <em>Galaxie,</em> sil vous plait?”</strong>I asked.<br/><br/><strong><em>“Oui, Madamoiselle, juste là, à cinq minutes.”</em></strong><br/><br/>I nodded my head. I had time to leave Titty secure at the quay so she could not be interfered with. Along the quay edge a couple of metres in from the edge, was a series of holes drilled into the stonework. For one week a year these holes received steel stanchions that supported the Armco crash barriers that enclosed these streets when they became a Formula One race track. For the rest of the year they served me in an unwitting capacity for which they were not designed but which I’d made clever use of. From the luggage box of the sulky I took out the folding hitching post. I inserted the ground-end into one of the steel lined holes and twisted it, locking it in position. A special key was needed to remove it. I folded down the two side bars. Each of these was a foot long and locked in a horizontal position. On the end of each was a locking steel cuff.<br/><br/><strong>“Leotie, darling, lead pony forwards. Here. Good girl.”</strong><br/><br/>To one side I caught the white dressed yacht crewman watching Leotie hungrily. Her dark coffee toned skin, typical of one of her blood, but darkened by so many days nude in the sunshine was accentuated by the few white garments she wore and her beautiful large tits jutted proudly, swaying gently as she moved, her hairless sex glistening a little from her drug-induced arousal. The man licked his lips.<br/><br/>Leotie led Titty until the pony stood astride the hitching post. I got her to spread her legs and then locked her hooves into the two bars of the post. Finally I twisted the upright and slid it up, the aluminium post telescoping out to almost full height. The fat metal domed head pressed against Titty’s wide open sex and without ceremony I pushed it up deep into her cunt, driving the two inch pole about eight inches into her body. I locked the pole in place. Now it would be impossible for anyone to steal my animal and cart.<br/><br/>I smiled at Titty and reached a finger to touch her sex. Her lips pulled wide apart by her rings and chains let me slip a finger against her sticky urethral opening and then up and against her swollen clit. I caressed it and pinched it, making her bells jingle. It was hot and slippery with her discharge.<br/><br/>I leaned in to kiss her on the lips even with her mouth filled by her bit.<br/><br/><strong>“No cumming you fat bitch,”</strong>I ordered her,<strong>“Don’t even move. If you cum on that pole, I have a witness and by God you’ll be sorry.”</strong>I slapped her tits several times, then took up Leotie’s leash and turned to the crewman. Across the harbour behind him a powerful launch growled and grumbled to a tidy stop at the wharf. From my purse a took a 50 Euro note and tucked it into the man’s jacket breast pocket.<br/><br/><strong>“Please keep an eye on my horse and cart. The pony is a horny bitch but I am training her in the art of self-restraint, so she is not to cum. I have set her collar restrictor to ‘no contact’. Please ensure no-one touches her and if she even moves up and down on that pole, you will report her behaviour to me on my return. Thank you very much. Come, darling.”</strong><br/><br/>The last sentence was directed at my dusky slave and we descended the stone steps and stepped onto the floating pontoon against which the Galaxy’s launch was idling. I climbed aboard, Leotie followed and within moments we were moving out across the harbour.