(f-self, consensual, bondage, ponyplay)

‘This has to be the weirdest thing that’s happened to me… a nose bag?! How humiliating! If my friends could see me now… mind you… this stuff tastes… not bad!’

- o O o –

“So… you’re not upset with me?”

The atmosphere had been awkward, to say the least, between Pippa and her parents, ever since she had appeared on stage, virtually naked, at the party being held in honour of old family friend Owen. The fact that the only thing adorning her naked body was a ponygirl harness, and that she had then very obviously been forced to orgasm in front of them, did not make things any easier.

“Darling, you’re a grown-up now,” her mother replied with a surprisingly relaxed smile, “you don’t have to ask our permission or seek our approval for anything you do.”

“I know,” the young teacher responded glumly, “but I don’t want to embarrass you, and I don’t want you to be ashamed of me.”

Her father placed his hand over hers on the table and looked into her eyes.

“Honey, everyone thought it was very entertaining, including us. Owen thought it was hilarious, it made his day. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of, and neither do we.”

“Besides,” her mother chipped in, “it’s not like it’s the first time we’ve seen that outfit, is it, David?” Her husband smiled at the memory.

“No, indeed,” he replied, “Penelope loved dressing up as a ponygirl and parading around in front of anyone who happened to be at the stables. She got a huge rush out of being seen by as many people as possible.”

“She wasn’t the only one who got a rush out of it,” her mother said pointedly, looking severe, but then laughing at her husband’s deep blush. “Honestly, darling, there was a point where I thought I would have to dress up like that too, if I was going to hang on to your dad!”

“So, anyway, Pippa,” her father went on, trying to cover his own embarrassment, “is there anyone special in your life yet?” Pippa let out a sigh – she always got quizzed on this by her parents, who were desperate to become grandparents. She shook her head with a weary smile.

“What about that Steve?” her mother asked innocently, “he seems a very nice young man?” Now it was Pippa’s turn to blush.

Eventually, they managed to reassure their daughter that she wasn’t some kind of sick freak, and after a very enjoyable lunch with Owen and Steve, they left to travel back home. Pippa immediately tracked down the stable owner, wanting to clear something else up which had been worrying her.

“Uncle Owen,” she began, earnestly and seriously, “I want to apologise if I offended you last night. It must have been a bit of a shock.”

“A shock?” he laughed, but in a kindly way, “who do you think put that body harness in the tack room for you to find?” As this gradually sunk in, Pippa’s jaw sagged open as she saw the twinkle in his smiling eyes.

“When you didn’t come back to me after I gave you that key, I knew you were at least intrigued, maybe more,” he went on, “I just had to sit back and see where you’d go with it. I have to say, I was mightily impressed. It’s the most fun I’ve had since my poor Penny died. Thank you for making an old man very happy, Pippa. Now, I believe you are keeping my Head Groom waiting!”

Pippa gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, and ran down to the tack room, feeling as if a weight of doubt and guilt had been lifted from her shoulders. Her ‘secret love’ was no secret anymore, and Steve paraded her through the stable yard, where she was received with applause and smiles, as she proudly high-stepped her way past the whole staff, head held high.

He led her to a square, sanded area, rather than the training ring, and began her education in the precision art of dressage. For the next two hours, he taught her the disciplines and steps involved, encouraging and rebuking her in equal measure as she described the intricate patterns across the square. She did stepovers to progress diagonally, like a bishop in chess, reversing, high steps and trotting while shooting her legs forward.

It was hard work in the hot sun, and by the time they returned to the cool of the tack room, Pippa had worked up a fine sweat.

“Well, that was all very interesting,” she said as she towelled down, “but what’s it all in aid of? Why are you teaching me to do all this stuff?”

“Hey, I’m just the Head Groom,” Steve responded defensively, “the boss tells me what to do, and I do it. You’d better take it up with Owen.”

Intrigued, Pippa went up to the house and, after a long, cold shower, sought out the owner.

“So, how come you’re making me do all this dressage training, Uncle Owen?”

“I don’t think anyone’s forcing you!” he replied in a mock-outraged tone.

“Let me tell you a story, Pippa. My Penny was very like you – full of fun, adventurous, try anything. She found out about this ponygirl thing, and nagged me to make her a harness, so she could give it a go. Well, I refused for a long time, telling her it was kinky, and she should just drop it, but that was like a red rag to a bull. She said if I didn’t do it for her, she’d go to Teddy Johnson at the next farm and get him to do it.” Owen grimaced, as if pained by a long-distant memory.

“Well, Teddy’d been after her for years, and I knew he’d jump at any chance to get in her pants! So, I made the body harness, the bit and the bridle, even that tail!” He smiled at the memory of his wife’s first attempts to fit the tail.

“Penny loved it, just like you last night.” Pippa blushed a deep red at the reminder of her very public embarrassment.

“Thing is, she couldn’t get enough of it. She found out about these societies, with meets around the state, and she’d drag me along to talk with all these real enthusiasts. It turned out, they ran – and still do run – state, and national, ponygirl championships!”

“You’re kidding!” Pippa exclaimed. “And Aunt Penelope took part?”

“Couldn’t keep her away!” Owen laughed. “Kentucky Ponygirl Dressage Champion, 1985! Boy, but she looked magnificent!” Pippa saw his eyes moistening as he pictured that scene, and she wondered if he was actually going to break down, but he managed to hold himself together.

“But… where do I come in?” she mused out loud.

“Well,” Owen said, pulling himself out of his daydream, “if you’re training, you ought to be training for something! Kentucky championships are in a couple of weeks, at the end of summer. I reckon you’d have a real good chance!”

“You gotta be joking!” Pippa exclaimed, incredulous at the whole idea.

“Sleep on it, Pippa,” Owen advised, “you’re more like my Penny than you think!”

- o O o –

Pippa was not sleeping on it but obsessing about it, as she lay on her bed. She had taken to wearing the body harness virtually all the time, only removing it when she showered, and she was wearing it now. She was also playing with herself, just gently brushing her labia with her fingers, feeling where the leather strap parted them, before they folded over it again, hiding it from view.

‘What am I to do?’ she wondered. ‘The idea of standing in front of all those people… nearly naked… dressed as a ponygirl… it’s so scary! So why does it make me… so damn hot?!’

She thought back to how she’d felt when contemplating her appearance at the party, and realised she’d gone through exactly the same doubts and fears, but that had turned out well. Okay, her excitement had been stoked by the vibrator Steve had placed against her clitoris, but she knew that was not the sole cause of her arousal that night. She also thought of the next morning, when she had strutted proudly through the stable yard, eagerly soaking up the plaudits of the assembled staff, feeding off the looks of naked desire she saw on the faces around her.

She had already decided she would go through with this madcap scheme long before she brought herself to an explosive climax. The next morning, she was up bright and early, to tell Steve of her decision, and to get her work out of the way so she could get on with her training.

“Don’t worry about that, Pippa,” he told her, “Owen has already said that, if you want to give it your best shot, he’ll sponsor you to allow us to train full-time!”

And so began a gruelling programme of three hour sessions, morning and afternoon, and Pippa found herself lying in her bed each evening, exhausted but happy – it seemed like she was born to be a ponygirl. Steve had explained that there were several competitions at the state ponyplay fair – races, both jockeyed and solo, carriage pulling, and dressage – for men as well as women. She would be competing in the dressage event, which involved three elements – judge’s inspection (worth 20% of the marks), short programme of defined moves (30%) and free programme (50%).

“This is Chloe,” Steve said, introducing a pretty young woman, who Pippa had seen around the yard. As Pippa was already in her tack, she couldn’t shake hands, and they just nodded to each other rather awkwardly.

“She’ll be your personal groom during training and will be coming to the fair with us. She works here part-time, but she’s a trained costume designer and make-up artist – she’s worked on some major films, particularly those involving horses. It’s her job to prepare you, and make sure you get maximum marks in the inspection phase.”

Pippa was disappointed when Steve banned the use of the dildo but, as he said, she couldn’t concentrate if she was having an orgasm every five minutes! The sessions were split, with morning dedicated to the disciplined repetition of set steps and patterns – precision was the key here. Pippa found these sessions long and, frankly, tedious, and Steve had to use the crop, the tool of discipline for close work, quite liberally to make her focus on following his barked instructions to the letter.

The afternoon sessions were much more fun, although very strenuous, as the ponygirl expressed herself with choreographed leaps, pliés, and pirouettes. She had spent ten years of her childhood in ballet classes, and this stood her in good stead for this discipline, which was much closer to expressive dance than the dry formality of the short programme.

At the start of the day, Chloe stripped and dressed Pippa, something which she found embarrassing at first, but came to enjoy, as the groom ensured every strap was in exactly the right place, and as tight as it could be. This was initially uncomfortable, but Pippa found that, as she began to sweat, the leather chafed much less than when she had fitted it on her own.

After each session, Chloe towelled her down, oiled her body and gave her a massage, all while she was still fastened in her harness. Pippa found this very sensuous, and she struggled to contain herself as the young woman worked on her thighs and buttocks, massaging away the knots of tension in her muscles. By the time she reached her room and hit the shower in the evening, she was fighting to control a raging maelstrom of pent-up frustrations, a fight she generally lost.

There was less than a week to go to the fair when Owen came down to the dressage arena to watch his young protégée being put through her paces by his Head Groom.

“That was very impressive,” he said afterwards, as Pippa went through her warm-down exercises in front of him, a sexy little routine which involved her standing with her legs wide apart and bending from the waist, presenting a great view of her hanging breasts or her pert round cheeks, depending on your point of view. This caused an uncomfortable stirring he hadn’t felt since his dear wife had passed away.

‘Calm down, you old fool!’ he told himself. ‘She’s your best friends’ daughter, and she’s young enough to be your daughter!’

“I think you could have a good shot at a top-three result,” he went on, once he’d torn his eyes away from the mesmerising sight of Pippa’s lithe, glistening body twisting and stretching before him. “Follow me, there’s something I want to show you.”

He led her round to the back of the stables, to a building she’d never been in before. They went inside and stood before a stall, somewhat smaller than the norm in the main stable block.

‘I suppose you could fit a foal or a small pony in here…’ she thought, ‘… or a… ponygirl?!’

“Penny had this built many years ago,” Owen explained, “she always used to stay in here a few days before a show, keeping her boots and mittens on the whole time. She said it got her into the right mindset. Your welcome to try it, if you like.” He left the rather stunned young woman alone with her thoughts.

‘My very own ponygirl stable? This is so weird… what am I turning into? And why is this all such a massive turn-on?!’

She turned and saw Chloe behind her, holding towels and body oil, obviously waiting to see what her decision would be. Pippa lowered her head, feeling her cheeks redden at the humiliating position she was being challenged to put herself into, and then nodded, silently, accepting this latest reinforcement of her role as the yard’s only ponygirl.

Chloe smiled reassuringly as she moved her into the stall, removed the armbinders, and positioned her so that she was leaning with her hoof mittens against the wall. She covered the harnessed girl in the scented oil and began to work on her shoulders, massaging away the tension. Pippa was surprised, but fully approving, when the stable girl’s hands moved around her body, and began kneading her breasts.

‘Oh God, this is so wrong…’ she thought, ‘but it feels… so right! Please don’t stop!’

She let out a moan of sheer pleasure, as Chloe’s fingers sought out her nipples, bringing them swiftly to full erection, firm as bullets. The hands moved down across her stomach and back, down to her hips. Unconsciously, she spread her legs, and felt her excitement skyrocket as the girl skilfully unfastened the strap through her crotch with one hand, while the other slid down between her thighs. She knew she was sopping wet down there, but she refused to feel embarrassed – as her groom, Chloe would have to deal with all manner of excretions, and it was just a fact of her new life that training always made her wet down there.

She let out a squeal of surprise and delight, almost a whinny, as she felt long, delicate fingers touching her, spreading her open, seeking out her place of ultimate pleasure, and finding it. Now, they slipped inside her, making her gasp as they worked in concert, with the thumb rubbing her ultra-sensitive clitoris while two, then three fingers sought to massage her G-spot. Her orgasm arrived swiftly and with startling power, reducing her to nothing more than a set of muscles in spasm, incoherent, strangulated noises coming from her throat. As this tsunami of pleasure passed, she sank down onto the clean straw, ending on her hands and knees, head bowed in submission.

Chloe gently removed the head and body harness, easing the tail from its anchor point, leaving just the posture collar, boots and mittens. Using a damp cloth, she removed all the oil, sweat and other excretions from Pippa’s body, leaving her feeling fresh and clean. She clipped a chain to the ring on the posture collar, then attached the other end to the wall, leaving enough slack to allow the girl to roam around the stall, but not leave.

“You’ve just got pony rations to eat now, Pippa, at least until the fair, are you okay with that?” Chloe asked. Pippa nodded, feeling that to speak now would somehow be wrong, would break the illusion she was feeling – that she really had become a dumb animal!

A few minutes later, Chloe had left her alone to contemplate her situation.

‘This has to be the weirdest thing that’s happened to me… a nose bag?! How humiliating! If my friends could see me now… mind you… this stuff tastes… not bad!’

The bag had been tied behind her head and covered her face up to her eyes. It contained some kind of cereal, like Crunchy Nut clusters, except not so sugary sweet. After the initial shock when Chloe had put it on, Pippa now munched her way through the contents quite happily, her mind surprisingly blank – maybe it had just been overloaded by all these new experiences. She sat on a bale of straw by the rear of the stall, listening to Chloe sweeping up, flicking her head back occasionally to throw another cluster from the bottom of the bag into her mouth. She was surprised at just how much pleasure she was getting from mastering the skill of eating from a nosebag!

A little later, Chloe came back in and removed the bag, then asked Pippa if she wanted a drink, pointing to the trough of fresh water. Pippa crawled over on her hands and knees – hooves and knees, she thought – and slurped the water thirstily. As she went back to sit on the hay bale, she realised she had not even been surprised at being expected to drink from  a galvanised metal trough on the floor!

Chloe stood behind her and began brushing through her long, auburn hair, while Pippa sat, unmoving, unthinking, just enjoying the feeling of being ‘groomed’. Her eyes closed, as she relaxed and let whatever cares or worries she had just drift away…

“Enjoying yourself?” she opened her eyes, startled at the sound of Steve’s voice. He was standing by the stall door, leaning over it, admiring her sensational body. “Mmmmm” was all she said, nodding her head in assent. Steve felt a distinct stirring in his loins as he saw just how zoned into this fantasy she was.

“Chloe, could you…?” With a knowing smile, the girl leaned down and kissed Pippa on the cheek.

“Okay, you can put her down for the night,” she said as she walked out of the stall, “I’ll see you in the morning. And don’t forget to brush her teeth!”

Pippa stood up as Steve approached her, standing so close she could smell his cologne.

“You look gorgeous, Pippa,” he murmured, holding her chin tenderly, turning her face up to his. The kiss seemed the most natural thing in the world, their lips touching softly at first, then pressing firmer as their excitement grew. Their open mouths fit together perfectly, and their tongues danced together, exploring each other with an increasing urgency.

“I want to fuck you, Pippa,” he breathed. His language was crude, but it seemed to suit both their moods, and he was excited to see her eyes half-close, her cheeks redden, and her tongue quickly run around her parted lips – her response couldn’t have been more clear if she had a neon sign above her head saying ‘Yes Please!’

They sank down to their knees together, the loose straw pricking her bare skin. Steve pulled urgently at the fastenings to his jeans, pulling them down his thighs, together with his boxers, releasing his erect manhood. Pippa looked down at it hungrily, then turned away, going down on her hooves and knees, presenting her perfect peach of a rump before him.

He didn’t need a second invitation. He leaned down and kissed her, tenderly caressing her cheeks with his lips, running his tongue between them, eliciting a gasp and a moan of appreciation from her. He could smell her arousal, and he moved on to the source, tasting her bittersweet love juices, pressing his questing tongue between her plump, hot lips. The volume of her moans increased, a wordless, animal noise somewhere between a cry and a howl.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Steve straightened up, then carefully, almost agonisingly slowly, entered her. He heard her catch her breath then, pushing back against him, impaling herself further, she let her breath out in a long, contented sigh.

Things became a lot more animated very quickly after that. He held her thighs and thrust himself in and out with an almost desperate urgency, feeling her match his rhythm perfectly, as she thrust back to engulf him completely.

Their coupling did not last long – they were both far too ready for this to hold themselves in check – but it was so sweet, with both of them achieving orgasm before they collapsed together on the ground. It was a good five minutes before either spoke – partly because they were catching their breath, but mainly because Pippa had decided to take a vow of silence while in her ponygirl gear, and Steve wasn’t sure what to say. Eventually, they sat up on the hay bale, with Steve stroking her tousled ‘mane’.

“We need to give you a pony name for the fair,” he said quietly. “I thought Olathe, which means ‘Beautiful’. What do you think?”

Pippa put her head on one side, as if thinking about it, then smiled up at him. She put her hoof mittens either side of his head, and kissed him, mouth open, tongue probing. As he returned the passionate kiss, he cursed his bad luck that he wasn’t built like a porn star, instantly ready to ‘go again’.

But he hadn’t reckoned with Pippa’s desire being as strong as his own. She slid off the bale and onto her knees, pushing her body between his thighs. Leaning down, she applied her soft lips, very gently, to his slumbering ‘giant’, kissing it as tenderly as a delicate flower. Steve’s head went back and he let out a guttural moan as her tongue gently played along his length. “Oh, God, that’s good!” he groaned as he felt the tiny furnace of her mouth close around the head, the tongue flicking and probing. Like some speeded up nature film of young plants growing, his prick rose and thickened and, as it stiffened, Pippa took more of it into her beautiful orifice. By the time it was fully erect, he could feel it pressing against the back of her throat, a sensation he’d never experienced before – it was incredible!

“Okay, Olathe, turn around – it’s time you were covered again!”