"Come on, Rose, don't do this to me!" I pleaded under my breath. Groveling was the first thing that came to mind.

"Why do you have to be such a hussy? Doing it at home is one thing, but please, not in front of all these people! I just moved here. I have no friends. Can't you take a little pity on me?"

The only sign that she heard was a swish of her long, silken tresses as she slowed the pace even further. So much for appealing to her sense of humanity.

"Fine. We'll do this the hard way." I kicked my leg at her. Another kick.

Nothing. Not even a twitch. It was time to move on to threats of bodily harm.

"I swear to god, if you stop and do your thing in front of you-know-who, I will beat you when we get home. You will have marks. Hideous scars. I'll break your stupid legs."

Obviously I wouldn't, for a number of reasons. Probably the biggest was that I was a little bit afraid of her. On the rare occasion I felt brave enough to try insisting we do things my way, it was always me who ended up giving in. And sometimes in pain.

I could feel it coming. She was getting ready, and of course the wench would pick the worst moment for the debacle. He was closing the distance and soon would be directly behind us. I erupted into full-fledged panic mode. I kicked and slapped, but she treated me as if I were no more than a pesky fly.

He was just about to move around us when she stopped dead in her tracks, spread her long legs, and stuck her fat rear end out. With her mouth gaping open and upper lip curled, the harlot moaned and grunted. Then her voluptuous rump squirted a stream of clear liquid onto Emmett's legs.

Oh. My. God.

Even though I had worried about exposing Rose and her salacious tendencies to the general public, I'd never imagined it would be this bad. I covered my face in humiliation as the onlookers laughed and pointed. But I didn't care as much about them as I did about the angel behind me, and there was no way I could stand to see the horrified expression that must be on Edward Cullen's perfectly gorgeous face.

Two things were now official.

1. This was the most embarrassing moment of my life.

2. I had a raging slut-bag for a horse.

Testing the waters to see if there's any interest for me to continue. I'm excited to try something a little lighter than Onscreen Chemistry.

The mare in this chapter is based on my first horse who did indeed pull a stunt like that on me in a show. Sadly, there was no Edward Cullen behind us, so the incident had no redeeming qualities whatsoever. I did love that perpetually-PMSing girl, though, and my heart broke into pieces when she died. You never forget your first.

ps-I love and respect animals. This story will emtouch/em upon some training practices that I disagree with and don't condone. YMMV.

p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Come on, Rose, don't do this to me!" I pleaded under my breath. Groveling was the first thing that came to mind./p
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Why do you have to be such a hussy? Doing it at home is one thing, but emplease/em, not in front of all these people! I just moved here. I have no friends. Can't you take a little pity on me?"/p
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The only sign that she heard was a swish of her long, silken tresses as she slowed the pace even further. So much for appealing to her sense of humanity./p
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Fine. We'll do this the hard way." I kicked my leg at her. Another kick./p
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Nothing. Not even a twitch. It was time to move on to threats of bodily harm./p
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""I swear to god, if you stop and do your emthing/em in front of you-know-who, I will beat you when we get home. You will have marks. Hideous scars. I'll break your stupid legs."/p
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Obviously I wouldn't, for a number of reasons. Probably the biggest was that I was a little bit afraid of her. On the rare occasion that I felt brave enough to try insisting we do things my way, it was always me who ended up giving in. And sometimes in pain./p
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"I could feel it coming. She was getting ready, and of course the wench would pick the worst moment for the debacle. emHe/em was closing the distance and soon would be directly behind us. I erupted into full-fledged panic mode. I kicked and slapped, but she treated me as if I were no more than a pesky fly./p
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He was just about to move around us when she stopped dead in her tracks, spread her long legs, and stuck her fat rear end in the air. With her mouth gaping open and upper lip curled, the harlot moaned and grunted. Then her voluptuous rump squirted a stream of clear liquid onto Emmett's legs./p
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Oh. My. God./p
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Even though I had worried about exposing Rose and her salacious tendencies to the general public, I'd never imagined it would be this bad. I covered my face in humiliation as the onlookers laughed and pointed. But I didn't care as much about them as I did about the angel behind me, and there was no way I could stand to see the horrified expression that must be on Edward Cullen's perfectly gorgeous face./p
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Two things were now official./p
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"1. This was the most embarrassing moment of my life./p
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"2. I had a raging slut-bag for a horse./p
hr style="color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;" noshade="noshade" size="1" /
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;" /p
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"strongThe mare in this chapter is based on my first horse who did indeed pull a stunt like that on me in a show. Sadly, there was no Edward Cullen behind us, so the incident had no redeeming qualities whatsoever. I did love that perpetually-PMSing girl, though, and my heart broke into pieces when she died. You never forget your first./strong/p
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"strongps-I love and respect animals. This story will emtouch/em upon some training practices that I disagree with and don't condone. YMMV./strong/p