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Description

Gertie Gardner was proud that her parents Lulu and Hobson let her ride Horse. The dark-haired man was the fastest mount in Osyth and likely the entire Goblin Federation He was faster than Pippa Fairbairn’s old Juggz. He was even faster than Nanz Comford’s Lady. Her mother had ridden him and beaten Sukie Langley on her golden-haired Boy.

Astride his broad back, she enjoyed the admiring stares of the gobs and goblins going about their business on the High Street of Osyth. Horse was a magnificent animal. He stood taller than any girl or mumsie. His arms and shoulders were strong. His buttocks and legs brawny. His male paraphernalia jiggled and flopped as he trotted down the street. An animal may be unclothed but no one thinks of him as naked. His mere presence unsettled the girls and mumsies tied to the rails on either side of the street but he was no threat. She had the powerful animal totally under her control.

She held him to an easy trot. Horse had learned to respect her crop and spurs. He had learned to respect her firm hand on his reins. She sensed his impatience but resisted to the impulse to bring him to a run and show off his speed.

Horse had learned to accept his new life. He was well fed and well sheltered. The pain of his branding faded though the memory like the mark did not. The goblins readily applied painful “corrections” for any misbehaviors but he was never beaten capriciously or excessively. He had come to accept his bit and bridle. He had learned to wait, tied at the railing while his rider went about their business.   He scoffed to remember that once he had thought his obedience was voluntary - part of his clever strategy of deception.   They had trained him and trained him until his body obeyed any command before his conscious mind had even processed it.

He made little of the goblin’s guttural speech beyond the simple commands required. He had become adept at sensing tone though. Was he in trouble? Had he won approval? With Lulu, Hobson, and little Gertie, his new owners, he had come to relish their approval and fear their disappointment even more than he feared their whips.

He found happiness where he could. He was well fed. He preferred being clean rather than filthy. He had come to accept the grooming stand and the olive-skinned gobs and green-skinned goblins’ hands on his tired body. He enjoyed carrying a rider. Moving as one with a skilled rider in his saddle, seemed just right. Running under the open sky was as close as he came to freedom.

He and Boy were the only two male men who had been trained as mounts. His mere presence unsettled the girls and mumsies tied to the railings on either side of the street. He savored their distress.

Most of all, he savored his victory over Boy. He was now the fastest mount in Osyth. He was faster than old Juggz or Titz or Assz. He was faster even than Lady and he had beaten Boy. He relived that victory whenever he encountered Boy in the village. Gloating, he knew that Boy remembered it too. He could see it in his eyes. All in Osyth and likely all in the entire Goblin Confederation knew that Horse was the fastest man under saddle. Horse smiled around his bit.

Like other young sprouts, Gertie had had a naïve aversion to the whip and spurs. She had no enthusiasm for inflicting pain but she had quickly learned that leniency is no kindness. A goblin sprout does not debate with her animal. A correction too mildly delivered need too often and too soon be repeated. Now, she wielded the whip with authority. Bad habits may better be prevented than broken.

Up ahead, she saw Lem Langley, Sukie’s little brother, up on Boy. Sukie’s little brother wasn’t quite so little anymore.   He had grown up into quite a handsome olive-skinned gob. Gertie saw something special in his smile and the way he held his black -haired head. His gold nose ring gleamed.   Gertie called out and waved. Lem did not even see her. He was talking with Malva Merrill – Malva Merrill! Malva looked at him with the dumbest expression on her already stupid face.   Gertie groaned. Man-shit!

Gertie knew that the two yobos didn’t like each other. A man might be trained but never was truly tamed, her parents cautioned her. Yobos, male men, were worse than the girls and mumsies. Yobos were notoriously stubborn, lazy, and eager for violence. Most yobos were gelded and fattened for slaughter. The Crookedfingers kept an intact yobo or two for the season to cover the mumsies and keep them in milk. Sukie Langley was the first gob or goblin to have trained one as a mount. She had broken and trained Horse also. She had sold him to Gertie’s mom, Lulu.   Gertie kept the yobos well apart and wondered whether Lem would ever see Malva for what she really was.   Malva cared only for clothes and gobs. Gertie would be a raider like her mother, Lulu. Her larder would always be full.

Well, her mother had raced Boy and Horse had left him in his dust. Gertie snapped her heels into Horse’s flanks. He burst forward at a run. His speed was exhilarating. She needed to speak with her friends, Celandine and Lily. She fought the urge and did not look back to see if Lem had looked up and seen her.

Horse hung spread-eagle on the grooming stand. His nose ring was secured to the upright. His ankles were secured at shoulders’ width to stays set in the floor. He was freed of his harness and his wrists fastened to the cross piece. If she could ride the beast, she could attend to his grooming, her father Hobson insisted. Gertie took her responsibilities seriously. Gertie attended to his grooming and chatted with her friends, Celandine Thwaite and Lily Salter. A coarse brush in each hand, she scrubbed his brawny legs and buttocks. She traced his well-healed brand with her finger. She inspected his tanned skin for the leavings of her whip and spurs. She basked in her friends’ awe as she groomed the powerful man with a casual familiarity.

“Who’s the cutest gob in Osyth?” Celandine asked. A mischievous grin lit up her hook-nose goblin face beneath her gleaming black eyes. She thought her nose was her best feature.

Gertie grinned and said nothing. She reached between Horse’s muscular thighs and squeezed his ball sac in her soapy long-fingered, green-skinned hand. He shuddered but was held helpless by the sturdy grooming stand. She thought about Lem, Sukie’s little brother, but said nothing. Lem wasn’t so little anymore and he was more than little hot.

“What about Ilberic Riordan?” Lily offered tentatively, thinking of the olive-skinned red-haired gob.

“Otho Mipset,” Celandine sighed and looked at her friends for their reaction. She looked surprised that they did not immediately acknowledge the obvious. “He asked me to the Fall Man Roast,” she offered or rather boasted.

Gertie scrubbed Horse’s belly and chest with renewed vigor. Lem liked that damned Malva Merrill. Did he even know that Gertie was sweet on him? She stepped up on an upside-down bucket and washed down her man’s broad back, shoulders and head energetically. Did Lem even know that she was alive? She moaned aloud and her friends stopped talking and just stared at her.

Lem was easy to see on his tall mount. Gertie gave Horse a kick and guided him toward Lem and his Boy. She sensed his reluctance and guided him with a firm hand. “Lem!” she called out and waved

Lem looked at her curiously, then shared a wry smile. Horse’s nearness made Boy anxious and Lem calmed his mount. He stroked Boy’s neck and let him feel his spurs.

“Hi Lem! You look good up on Boy!”

“Not so bad yourself.” Her Horse was a magnificent animal. Still, it was hard to believe that Horse had beaten Boy. Boy had long been the fastest mount in Osyth. Lem entertained the pleasing notion that Boy would have won, had he and not his stupid sister Sukie been in the saddle. Sukie was a trainer. She spent so much time with the damned men that she forgot they were animals and treated them almost like goblins. He was not the victim of such mawkish sentimentality.

“You know Lem, I was thinking.”

That’s good, Lem smiled but wisely kept his thoughts to himself. Gertie was cute when she was thinking. Malva was likely hotter but Gertie was hot in her own way.

Gertie had a notion. “My mom beat your big sister but I think we owe you a rematch. She’s not the rider you are!” The fastest way to a gob’s heart….

“Yes, a rematch” Lem nodded and grinned. “You on Horse and me on Boy?” He would like that very much.   Sukie could not defeat Horse but he certainly would. Perhaps Malva would witness his hard-won victory and he savored her imagined adoration. He had sudden misgivings. Malva cared little for riding. She was hot but she cared only for her clothes. Would she understand the importance of his triumph? Now little Gertie could ride as well as any gob and she was as cute as any goblin. Little Gertie was not so little any more.

“Yes! Tomorrow at noon.” Gertie offered, serious now. She loved just looking at Lem and talking with him.

Horse’s dejection showed in his gait. It was more than simple exhaustion. He was certain that all now watched him with derision. Horse saw Boy gloating, even when he closed his eyes. As of today, Horse was no longer the fastest mount in Osyth. He really should have won but he hadn’t. Doubled damned Boy had beaten him. Horse had been ahead for the entire race. Boy closed from his left shoulder and he had held him off, stride after stride after stride. Lem went to his crop and Boy surged forward. Horse redoubled his pace, not even waiting for Gertie’s spurs or crop.   The finish line neared. He really had tried and he still lost. Unexpectedly, Gertie had pulled back sharply on his reins. Horse stumbled and Boy rushed past him. Why had she done that? Horse let Gertie lead him back to the stable and secure him to the grooming stand.

Gertie removed Horse’s tack and set about his grooming. She could tell that something was wrong with her prize mount. Well, he didn’t like to lose and neither did she, in general. She ran her long green finger over his spine, from the base of his neck to his tailbone. His tanned skin was wet with perspiration. He had really tried. She spoke to him in soothing tones and slapped his brawny buttock in her long-fingered green hand. He pulled against his restraints and she smiled. “Don’t like to lose, do you sweetie. Tell you what, neither do I. Tell you what, though, we actually won today.” She could say exactly what she wanted to her Horse and he didn’t understand a word of it. He wouldn’t repeat a word of it to anyone else. She couldn’t really wait brag to her friends Lily and Celandine. Lily had Ilberic and Celandine had Otho. The thought made her smile. “You may have lost but I really won today. Lem asked me to the Fall Man Roast – not stupid Malva!” The fastest way to a gob’s heart was through his ego.

Description

Gertie Gardner was proud that her parents Lulu and Hobson let her ride Horse. The dark-haired man was the fastest mount in Osyth and likely the entire Goblin Federation He was faster than Pippa Fairbairn’s old Juggz. He was even faster than Nanz Comford’s Lady. Her mother had ridden him and beaten Sukie Langley on her golden-haired Boy.

Astride his broad back, she enjoyed the admiring stares of the gobs and goblins going about their business on the High Street of Osyth. Horse was a magnificent animal. He stood taller than any girl or mumsie. His arms and shoulders were strong. His buttocks and legs brawny. His male paraphernalia jiggled and flopped as he trotted down the street. An animal may be unclothed but no one thinks of him as naked. His mere presence unsettled the girls and mumsies tied to the rails on either side of the street but he was no threat. She had the powerful animal totally under her control.

She held him to an easy trot. Horse had learned to respect her crop and spurs. He had learned to respect her firm hand on his reins. She sensed his impatience but resisted to the impulse to bring him to a run and show off his speed.

Horse had learned to accept his new life. He was well fed and well sheltered. The pain of his branding faded though the memory like the mark did not. The goblins readily applied painful “corrections” for any misbehaviors but he was never beaten capriciously or excessively. He had come to accept his bit and bridle. He had learned to wait, tied at the railing while his rider went about their business.   He scoffed to remember that once he had thought his obedience was voluntary - part of his clever strategy of deception.   They had trained him and trained him until his body obeyed any command before his conscious mind had even processed it.

He made little of the goblin’s guttural speech beyond the simple commands required. He had become adept at sensing tone though. Was he in trouble? Had he won approval? With Lulu, Hobson, and little Gertie, his new owners, he had come to relish their approval and fear their disappointment even more than he feared their whips.

He found happiness where he could. He was well fed. He preferred being clean rather than filthy. He had come to accept the grooming stand and the olive-skinned gobs and green-skinned goblins’ hands on his tired body. He enjoyed carrying a rider. Moving as one with a skilled rider in his saddle, seemed just right. Running under the open sky was as close as he came to freedom.

He and Boy were the only two male men who had been trained as mounts. His mere presence unsettled the girls and mumsies tied to the railings on either side of the street. He savored their distress.

Most of all, he savored his victory over Boy. He was now the fastest mount in Osyth. He was faster than old Juggz or Titz or Assz. He was faster even than Lady and he had beaten Boy. He relived that victory whenever he encountered Boy in the village. Gloating, he knew that Boy remembered it too. He could see it in his eyes. All in Osyth and likely all in the entire Goblin Confederation knew that Horse was the fastest man under saddle. Horse smiled around his bit.

Like other young sprouts, Gertie had had a naïve aversion to the whip and spurs. She had no enthusiasm for inflicting pain but she had quickly learned that leniency is no kindness. A goblin sprout does not debate with her animal. A correction too mildly delivered need too often and too soon be repeated. Now, she wielded the whip with authority. Bad habits may better be prevented than broken.

Up ahead, she saw Lem Langley, Sukie’s little brother, up on Boy. Sukie’s little brother wasn’t quite so little anymore.   He had grown up into quite a handsome olive-skinned gob. Gertie saw something special in his smile and the way he held his black -haired head. His gold nose ring gleamed.   Gertie called out and waved. Lem did not even see her. He was talking with Malva Merrill – Malva Merrill! Malva looked at him with the dumbest expression on her already stupid face.   Gertie groaned. Man-shit!

Gertie knew that the two yobos didn’t like each other. A man might be trained but never was truly tamed, her parents cautioned her. Yobos, male men, were worse than the girls and mumsies. Yobos were notoriously stubborn, lazy, and eager for violence. Most yobos were gelded and fattened for slaughter. The Crookedfingers kept an intact yobo or two for the season to cover the mumsies and keep them in milk. Sukie Langley was the first gob or goblin to have trained one as a mount. She had broken and trained Horse also. She had sold him to Gertie’s mom, Lulu.   Gertie kept the yobos well apart and wondered whether Lem would ever see Malva for what she really was.   Malva cared only for clothes and gobs. Gertie would be a raider like her mother, Lulu. Her larder would always be full.

Well, her mother had raced Boy and Horse had left him in his dust. Gertie snapped her heels into Horse’s flanks. He burst forward at a run. His speed was exhilarating. She needed to speak with her friends, Celandine and Lily. She fought the urge and did not look back to see if Lem had looked up and seen her.

Horse hung spread-eagle on the grooming stand. His nose ring was secured to the upright. His ankles were secured at shoulders’ width to stays set in the floor. He was freed of his harness and his wrists fastened to the cross piece. If she could ride the beast, she could attend to his grooming, her father Hobson insisted. Gertie took her responsibilities seriously. Gertie attended to his grooming and chatted with her friends, Celandine Thwaite and Lily Salter. A coarse brush in each hand, she scrubbed his brawny legs and buttocks. She traced his well-healed brand with her finger. She inspected his tanned skin for the leavings of her whip and spurs. She basked in her friends’ awe as she groomed the powerful man with a casual familiarity.

“Who’s the cutest gob in Osyth?” Celandine asked. A mischievous grin lit up her hook-nose goblin face beneath her gleaming black eyes. She thought her nose was her best feature.

Gertie grinned and said nothing. She reached between Horse’s muscular thighs and squeezed his ball sac in her soapy long-fingered, green-skinned hand. He shuddered but was held helpless by the sturdy grooming stand. She thought about Lem, Sukie’s little brother, but said nothing. Lem wasn’t so little anymore and he was more than little hot.

“What about Ilberic Riordan?” Lily offered tentatively, thinking of the olive-skinned red-haired gob.

“Otho Mipset,” Celandine sighed and looked at her friends for their reaction. She looked surprised that they did not immediately acknowledge the obvious. “He asked me to the Fall Man Roast,” she offered or rather boasted.

Gertie scrubbed Horse’s belly and chest with renewed vigor. Lem liked that damned Malva Merrill. Did he even know that Gertie was sweet on him? She stepped up on an upside-down bucket and washed down her man’s broad back, shoulders and head energetically. Did Lem even know that she was alive? She moaned aloud and her friends stopped talking and just stared at her.

Lem was easy to see on his tall mount. Gertie gave Horse a kick and guided him toward Lem and his Boy. She sensed his reluctance and guided him with a firm hand. “Lem!” she called out and waved

Lem looked at her curiously, then shared a wry smile. Horse’s nearness made Boy anxious and Lem calmed his mount. He stroked Boy’s neck and let him feel his spurs.

“Hi Lem! You look good up on Boy!”

“Not so bad yourself.” Her Horse was a magnificent animal. Still, it was hard to believe that Horse had beaten Boy. Boy had long been the fastest mount in Osyth. Lem entertained the pleasing notion that Boy would have won, had he and not his stupid sister Sukie been in the saddle. Sukie was a trainer. She spent so much time with the damned men that she forgot they were animals and treated them almost like goblins. He was not the victim of such mawkish sentimentality.

“You know Lem, I was thinking.”

That’s good, Lem smiled but wisely kept his thoughts to himself. Gertie was cute when she was thinking. Malva was likely hotter but Gertie was hot in her own way.

Gertie had a notion. “My mom beat your big sister but I think we owe you a rematch. She’s not the rider you are!” The fastest way to a gob’s heart….

“Yes, a rematch” Lem nodded and grinned. “You on Horse and me on Boy?” He would like that very much.   Sukie could not defeat Horse but he certainly would. Perhaps Malva would witness his hard-won victory and he savored her imagined adoration. He had sudden misgivings. Malva cared little for riding. She was hot but she cared only for her clothes. Would she understand the importance of his triumph? Now little Gertie could ride as well as any gob and she was as cute as any goblin. Little Gertie was not so little any more.

“Yes! Tomorrow at noon.” Gertie offered, serious now. She loved just looking at Lem and talking with him.

Horse’s dejection showed in his gait. It was more than simple exhaustion. He was certain that all now watched him with derision. Horse saw Boy gloating, even when he closed his eyes. As of today, Horse was no longer the fastest mount in Osyth. He really should have won but he hadn’t. Doubled damned Boy had beaten him. Horse had been ahead for the entire race. Boy closed from his left shoulder and he had held him off, stride after stride after stride. Lem went to his crop and Boy surged forward. Horse redoubled his pace, not even waiting for Gertie’s spurs or crop.   The finish line neared. He really had tried and he still lost. Unexpectedly, Gertie had pulled back sharply on his reins. Horse stumbled and Boy rushed past him. Why had she done that? Horse let Gertie lead him back to the stable and secure him to the grooming stand.

Gertie removed Horse’s tack and set about his grooming. She could tell that something was wrong with her prize mount. Well, he didn’t like to lose and neither did she, in general. She ran her long green finger over his spine, from the base of his neck to his tailbone. His tanned skin was wet with perspiration. He had really tried. She spoke to him in soothing tones and slapped his brawny buttock in her long-fingered green hand. He pulled against his restraints and she smiled. “Don’t like to lose, do you sweetie. Tell you what, neither do I. Tell you what, though, we actually won today.” She could say exactly what she wanted to her Horse and he didn’t understand a word of it. He wouldn’t repeat a word of it to anyone else. She couldn’t really wait brag to her friends Lily and Celandine. Lily had Ilberic and Celandine had Otho. The thought made her smile. “You may have lost but I really won today. Lem asked me to the Fall Man Roast – not stupid Malva!” The fastest way to a gob’s heart was through his ego.