(f-self, consensual, bondage, ponyplay)

‘Okay, this is the moment of truth… I can’t believe I’m about to perform in front of hundreds of people… come on Pippa, stop thinking about how horny you are, focus… it’s now or never… this is it!’

- o O o –

The last few days of training were intense to say the least, and every evening Pippa crawled into the stall exhausted, sometimes falling asleep on her bed of straw before Chloe had finished rubbing her down. It seemed Steve and Chloe had made some kind of unspoken agreement, too, because neither of them made a move to satisfy her burgeoning desire, despite some less-than-subtle non-verbal hints from the horny pony. It seemed they wanted her eager and pent-up for the competition!

As the day of the fair finally dawned, the whole yard was abuzz with excitement. Chloe had her charge up early so that she could wash and trim her pony’s mane, before plaiting it, appropriately, into a ponytail, and doing her make-up. She then got her into her harness, tail, bit and bridle, which surprised Pippa – surely it would be easier travelling without at least the tail and putting it on / in when they got there.

Chloe led her to the blacksmith’s forge, where he put new shoes on her boots.

“Good luck, Pippa,” he grinned, reflecting all the encouraging comments she’d received on her way through the yard, “knock ’em dead!”

Time to leave, and Pippa was led out of the yard to the parking lot. To her astonishment, the Range Rover they would be travelling in had the horse box attached, and Chloe led her up the ramp and into the back! The box had been adapted slightly, with a five point harness fitted to the front of it, and Chloe strapped her in, so that she was safely held, standing against the front wall. She watched as Chloe walked back out of the box and closed it up. A few minutes later, she felt the vehicle move off. It seemed that no detail had been overlooked in her transformation from elementary school teacher to show pony!

The journey was uneventful, and rather boring, as she couldn’t see where they were going. After maybe an hour or so, they pulled off the road onto some kind of uneven surface, and finally came to a stop. She watched as the back was opened and the ramp let down, then Chloe came in to release her. She could see they were in some kind of field, and could hear the noise of a lot of people out there, which spooked her a little.

“It’s alright, Pippa,” Chloe soothed, stroking her hair in a calming way, “nothing to be frightened of.” She led Pippa out into the sunshine and, to her dismay, into the crowd.

‘Oh my… there must be hundreds of people here … now I really am on display!’

She could see stalls selling all sorts of goods – from genuine ‘normal’ tack, to ponygirl accessories, with various sellers offering sex toys and fetishwear – latex and leather predominant. People were wandering around, viewing the wares on sale, and also showing a lot of interest in her!

She also saw quite a few women – and men – dressed in harnesses similar to her own. There was only one difference, but it was a significant one – they were all wearing some form of clothing – bikinis, swimsuits, body suits – she was the only one who was naked!

“Don’t worry,” Chloe explained, understanding Pippa’s look of alarm and confusion, “they’re not in competition, just amateurs and weekend enthusiasts.”

‘So, I’m a professional?!’ Pippa thought. ‘This is just a bit of fun for me too… isn’t it?’

Chloe led her ponygirl into one of the marquees, where Steve was waiting for them.

“Hi guys, you okay?” This was directed at Pippa, and she nodded uncertainly, not sure whether she was okay or not. There were about a dozen other women dressed as ponies in here, and she felt reassured that they were all naked, like her. Each stood by a post with a number on it, being tended by their own support group. Chloe led her to a post with the number twelve on it, and attached the leash from Pippa’s collar to the ring on the post.

She then opened her make-up case and began to prepare her charge for the show. First, she oiled her entire body, until she glistened in the spotlights shining on her. Next, she fixed her hair, ensuring the ponytail was as tight as possible, and there were no loose wisps of hair to spoil the effect. She touched up Pippa’s mascara, eye shadow and lip gloss, until she was perfectly presented.

“Okay,” Steve said as he stood in front of his pupil, casting a critical eye over her, “good job, Chloe. Now, Pippa, you are going to be judged in a few minutes. You need to stand perfectly still, and present yourself as we’ve practised. Remember, don’t look around, don’t stare at the judges, don’t flinch when they touch you – discipline is a key attribute you’ll be marked on. Understand? Okay, back straight, head back, chest out! Good luck, we’ll be right here beside you.”

Pippa assumed the position as Steve stepped to one side, and out of her line of vision, hidden by the blinders on either side of her head. All she could see was directly in front of her, and she watched as people crowded into the marquee, viewing the fine display of competitors in the Women’s Dressage Competition, Kentucky State Ponyplay Fair, 2012.

Her heart was pounding as she waited, and she felt herself becoming aroused as she stood, unmoving, under the appraising gaze of the audience. Eventually, two men and a woman walked in front of her, and she glanced down to see their clipboards, realising this must be the judging panel. She quickly looked up again, hoping they hadn’t noticed her lapse, and waited for the examination to begin.

It was a strange feeling, to stand perfectly still, while you’re being poked and prodded. Fingers peeled back her lips to examine her teeth, a hand seemed to weigh her breast, then she felt her nipple being rubbed. All this fed into her growing feelings of arousal.

“Hmm, nice, tight strapping here, but she’s more than a little ‘anxious’” This commentary was accompanied by the firm touch of fingers exploring around her dripping pussy, and Pippa had to fight to prevent herself responding.

“It’s good to see she’s enjoying herself so much!” That was one of the men, and she heard all three of them chuckle. Finally, it was over, and Steve was in front of her again.

“Well done, Pippa!” he smiled, stroking her hair. “I thought you were going to cum for a minute there!”

‘You and me both!’ she thought, panting with excitement, still trying to calm herself down.

“I think they’re ready with the marks,” he said, and turned her towards a large board, where the names of all twelve contestants were listed, with marks out of 100 being chalked in by the lady judge. Pippa scanned down to the name ‘Olathe’, and watched as her score was written up – 89.

“That’s pretty good,” Steve said, “we’re in third – I think they marked you down for a little drooling.” Pippa wondered whether that was from her mouth, or from her…

Chloe and Steve led her out of the tent in line with the other ponygirls, through the crowd, to the dressage arena.

“You’ll be first doing the short programme,” Steve explained, “so you need to stay focused – remember, this is all about precision, putting your feet in exactly the right place, performing each  move perfectly. Just repeat what we’ve practiced every morning for the last few weeks – you’ll be fine.”

The young teacher stepped nervously into the square and took up her starting position. As the buzzer sounded, she began the set moves which were prescribed for the formal dressage short programme – stepping down the square with one foot placed precisely in front of the other; turn and prance, leaping from one hoof to the other; proceeding diagonally, stepping over; pirouette; and so on. Although it only lasted two minutes, the level of concentration required had Pippa bathed in sweat, while she had to keep her head held high, as if gliding serenely around the arena with no effort.

At last it was over, and she strutted back to her trainer and groom, who were wreathed in smiles.

“Well done!” Steve congratulated her, “you didn’t put a foot wrong! I think you could be in with a real chance here!”

Chloe led her away to prepare for the final stage of the competition, the free programme. After a good towelling down to remove the sweat, she oiled her body again so that she was once more shining with a brilliant lustrous sheen. She fixed her make-up once more, then freed her auburn locks from the confines of the ponytail, brushing it through until it was a long flowing mane of hair down her back, matching the horsehair tail which erupted from between her buttocks. She looked magnificent, a free-flowing spirit, which would suit her dance routine perfectly.

They went back out into the arena, where the free programme was in progress. Steve was watching intently, but turned with a bright smile as they approached.

“Great news, Pippa,” he  whispered, “you’re up to second now!”

They watched the other ponygirls performing their routines, one after another, as the contestants went in reverse order, meaning Pippa would be the last but one to take to the arena. She watched with mounting nervousness as her rivals completed their programmes seemingly faultlessly, although Steve seemed less impressed.

“They’re good,” he conceded, “but it’s all so safe – the music they’ve selected is uninspiring, and they’re barely doing anything more adventurous than in the compulsory!”

As she took this on board, Pippa realised he was right, but this just made her more nervous rather than less – maybe her routine was too complex, too physical, maybe the judges wouldn’t appreciate something so different. And if she made a mistake…

Suddenly, it was her turn! Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she felt like the butterflies in her stomach were so strong, she might be sick! Steve put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him, so he was looking deep into her frightened eyes. He spoke calmly, trying to still the skittishness he could see in his young filly.

“Just remember your training, Pippa. You don’t need to do anything special, just pretend we’re in the stable yard, it’s just another session, just go through the steps the same way we’ve done all week. Go get ‘em, kid!”

He gave her an encouraging slap on the rump, and she strutted into the arena, back straight, head back, knees raised to her chest on each step.

‘Okay, this is the moment of truth… I can’t believe I’m about to perform in front of hundreds of people… come on Pippa, stop thinking about how horny you are, focus… it’s now or never… this is it!’

She took up her starting position, and there was a moment of absolute silence, before her music began – she was performing to the title music for the Bond movie, ‘Live and Let Die’. As the opening lines played, she moved sinuously down the arena, swaying from side to side in time to the music, describing small arcs in the sand with her hooves. Then as the chorus approached, she turned to face the judges.

When the line ‘Live and Let Die’, followed by the thunderous chords, blared out of the sound system, Pippa leapt up into a dramatic jeté, pointing her hooves front and back, before landing and going immediately into a spin. The crowd gasped at the audacity and athleticism of this ponygirl, and burst into brief applause as she continued down the square, throwing herself into move after balletic move, all synchronised with the crashing music.

As the tune once again quietened and became more melodic, so Pippa’s movements became less explosive and more expressive. But it was just a prelude, a build-up to the next chorus, celebrated with another joyous outburst of leaps and high stepping.

When the music finished and she came to a halt, sitting on one heel with the other leg extended before her and her head bowed, she was covered in sweat and breathing hard, but the audience were applauding and cheering wildly, Steve and Chloe among them. Slowly, she drew herself up, bobbed a curtsey to the judges, and made her way out of the arena.

“Oh, Pippa, you were brilliant!” Chloe gushed, mopping the exhausted girl’s brow.

“That’s the best you’ve ever done it,” Steve enthused, “now let’s see what the opposition can do in response!”

The ‘opposition’ was a tall, elegant, and very pretty blonde probably in her early thirties, Pippa guessed and, according to Steve, the champion for three of the last four years. She started well, but Steve quickly became excited.

“She’s trying too hard,” he whispered to Pippa, “her routine’s good enough to beat the others, but she’s been thrown by your performance! She’s trying to improvise something more exciting – she’s gonna blow it!”

As they watched her pirouette her way down the arena, Pippa looked across at the champion’s trainer, and saw his nervous expression. At the end of her transition, she jumped up into the air, attempting the jeté, but her hoof caught in the sand as she landed, and she staggered forward. The crowd gasped, but she managed to keep her feet, and continued her performance with hardly a pause. But the damage had been done, losing her vital marks, but more importantly, denting her confidence. The routine ended tamely, almost anti-climactically, with polite applause from the audience.

When the final marks were announced, Pippa had won by two points, and Steve and Chloe hugged Pippa in triumph. The runner-up and her trainer sportingly came over and congratulated them, while the third-place ponygirl celebrated her podium finish like she’d won the whole thing.

The prize ceremony took place almost immediately in the arena, before the very appreciative crowd. All the women who had taken part were congratulated on a fine competition, and then third, runner-up and champion were presented with rosettes, a bottle of champagne, and $200, $300 and $500 respectively.

‘Well, that was a hell of an experience!’ Pippa thought to herself, as she stepped forward and her winner’s rosette was pinned to her harness. ‘I suppose I can get out of all this leather and brass now… that’ll be a relief… though I’ll kind of… miss it…’ She realised that, despite the fact that she was still on full display before the crowd – or maybe because of that – she was still feeling incredibly aroused.

It was only seconds after the final presentation that everyone within a ten yard radius was being sprayed with champagne, released by the three trainers. As the crowd began to break up, to find new diversions, Pippa was shocked by the sight of her parents, accompanied by Owen, striding towards her.

“Darling, you were marvellous!” her mother said, beaming broadly, while her dad leaned in and kissed her on her forehead. There was a slightly awkward moment, while her parents couldn’t think of anything else to say, and Pippa couldn’t bring herself to speak to her mom and dad while semi-naked and harnessed in front of them. It was broken by Owen.

“You would have made Penelope very proud,” he said, stroking her hair, with a sad smile on his lips. “Now, let’s get back to the ranch and celebrate properly!”

The whole group of them wandered around the fair, relaxed now that the pressure was off, chatting and laughing together, although Pippa continued with her vow of silence – after all, she was still in her ponygirl tack, and ponies don’t speak. Steve had clipped a rein to her bridle, and led her around as they watched ponygirls and boys take part in races, carriage competitions, and even a show jumping competition! Pippa strutted around, proudly displaying her winner’s rosette.

As they returned to the parking lot, Owen and her parents said their farewells and drove off in their car. Steve approached Pippa, still in her full ponygirl regalia, placing a hand on her smooth, round buttock.

“Okay, Chloe will get you out of your tack and into some clothes, so we can all sit up front,” he said, “that is, unless you want to travel in back with me?”

‘Well…’ Pippa thought as she looked deep into his eyes, and saw her own lustful thoughts reflected right back at her, ‘this could be the last time I wear this gear… it would be a shame to waste it…’

Slowly, she walked up the ramp of the horse box, pausing at the top to look back at her trainer with a smile, before disappearing into the dark interior.

“Looks like you’re up front on your own, Chloe,” Steve said with a broad grin, before following ponygirl Pippa into the box.

The groom closed up the tailgate and, with her own sly smile, drove them slowly away from the fair.

The End