I feel a little guilty about this, it feels like a betrayal, like I’m two-timing Steve. But I can’t help myself, I just need more than he seems able or willing to give me. Maybe I’m being selfish in trying to find out what’s out there. But what’s the harm in just looking? It doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything, right?
When we first started dating and having sex, it was always pretty wild and reckless. We found out about BDSM together, discovering what was meant by D/s, and realising that it was something that we both really enjoyed. Steve acted the role of my Master and I was his willing submissive. Bondage became a big part of our sex lives, with some Discipline used to spice things up.
The only problem was, I always wanted to go further, whereas he was always so sensible and practical. For example, S & M was an area which both fascinated and scared me. I didn’t think I was a masochist, and I know that Steve isn’t a sadist, but the thought of being so out of control and being forced to suffer way beyond any limits I would set, something about that attracted me.
The thing is, Steve was dead set against it. He said it was too dangerous, and it wasn’t something that he wanted to get into - beating or whipping his girlfriend was not an attraction for him. With a certain wistful regret, I agreed that it probably was going a bit too far and, as he was Master in our D/s relationship, it was his right to make that decision.
So, looking around for another direction in which we could take our kinky relationship, I discovered pony play. The idea of being so totally objectified that my lover wouldn’t even see me as human, just some animal to be used, appealed directly to my submissive personality.
When I discussed it with him, Steve agreed with us playing enthusiastically. I think he saw it as a glorified dressing up game, but enjoyed the dynamic between us when in our roles as pony and trainer. It started out as bedroom play, but fairly quickly developed into an outdoor game, playing in the open air, although always doing our best to make sure that we were unobserved.
This added that frisson of excitement of potential discovery and unintended public exhibitionism. I always fantasised about meeting a group of ramblers, experiencing the embarrassment of being seen in a bridle and bit, being led through the woods on reins by my ‘owner’.
We agreed certain limits for these forays, such as no public nudity, and only using a minimum of quickly-removable harness so that, in the event that we were discovered, we could quickly hide these fetish elements. While I understood the need for such discretion, I couldn’t help feeling that this was all a bit too safe.
It was actually Steve who found out about, and suggested we attend, the Pony Fetish Country Club. We were both very nervous before our first meeting, but it went brilliantly. The place was really upscale, like a National Trust property, but with kinky connotations. It turns out that it is run by the man who owns the house and grounds where the club meets and he does actually open it to ‘vanilla’ tourists most of the time, with the Pony Fetish Club meeting only once a month.
We both enjoyed it from the start. Steve found that he could talk to the other guys about the role that they fulfilled in their relationships, and got lots of tips about pony play.
As for me, I got a great buzz from being viewed by the other men, and the way they openly discussed me with Steve in front of me, making me feel wonderfully objectified. They often complimented Steve on my attractiveness, and how the harness really suited me. Never talking to me directly, you understand, just talking about me, as you would a pet. Mmmh, for some reason that really turns me on!
We ‘ponies’ were not allowed to talk to each other, of course, or to talk at all - ponies don’t talk! However, we did socialise when we took a break and had a cup of tea in the cafeteria, like this was just a regular Sunday afternoon outing. I found it fascinating to talk to the other women about their lifestyles, and was surprised to find such a wide variety of ways in which this curious style of relationship played out.
We have attended the pony club for over a year now, enjoying the company of like minds, and growing our own relationship in response. But we have recently had a few arguments about where this is all going.
It is actually just a rerun of arguments we’ve had before about our BDSM relationship. Steve is happy with what we do together, feeling that he allows my submissive nature quite sufficient freedom while, at the same time, ensuring that we play safe. His argument is always ‘what if friends, family, work colleagues found out about this?’ and uses this risk to justify refusing to countenance anything more than what we currently do.
Yet I’ve been growing increasingly frustrated by what feels to me as almost suffocatingly safe. I want to experiment with the more extreme end of our lifestyle, as rumoured by some of the girls at our meetings. They talk in hushed voices about the couples who play ‘for real’, although quite what that means is never fully explained.
One afternoon a month just doesn’t do it for me. I need more! More of what isn’t entirely clear in my mind, but I feel I must find out what is out there, to figure out what is that I think I’m missing.
Which is why I’m here at the Pony Fetish Country Club today, on my own. Steve is away on a business trip this weekend, but I didn’t see why I shouldn’t come, even though I can’t play without him. I’m here in ‘civvies’ (i.e. no bridle and bit) and it’s even more frustrating than ever, seeing everybody else in all their finery, having fun.
On the other hand, it’s kind of novel actually being allowed to talk to all the guys on equal terms, and I’m quite enjoying the attention I’m getting, especially from men that don’t know about Steve. I’m having to be careful, though, I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.
There’s a course laid out and some formal competitions going on. Right now it’s an advanced level dressage and I’ve managed to squirm and elbow my way to a place on the rail at the front. I’m just green with envy at the way these ponies are dressed, the bridles, the plumes, the long silky tails and, of course, the boots shaped like hooves. Steve and I never play at anything higher than intermediate and one of our many arguments is about how much it would cost to kit me out at this level, and whether we could afford it.
He also thinks I wouldn’t cope with the fierce competition and that I’d come away humiliated and disappointed. I know that isn’t true, with the right backing and encouragement I could at least hold my own and, actually, I’m sure I would shine.
I’m so absorbed in my frustration and resentment that I don’t notice the man who has positioned himself next to me. Until, that is, he speaks. “Hello, it’s Jennifer, isn’t it? Jennifer Harrison? My name’s Philip Campion, I’m membership secretary of the club. I’ve been wanting to get a chance to talk to you for ages.”
Philip Campion written by
The poor girl looks completely startled at my introduction. I think she was so absorbed in what was happening on the course, I took her completely by surprise.
“I’m sorry, you startled me,” she says. “I expect I should recognise you, but I don’t at all. But please, call me Jenny.”
“It’s okay,” I reassure her, “I’ve only ever had contact with your owner, Steve isn’t it? We emailed when you joined and when it’s renewal time for your subscription. I’ve seen you taking part in events, of course, but by the time I come looking for you both to have a chat, he always seems to have spirited you away.”
“Oh, yes,” she admits. “We tend to go home quite quickly once we’re finished. Steve doesn’t like to leave me on show too much.”
“That’s a shame,” I reply. “Actually, I think I’ve only ever seen you here on Sundays. You don’t come for the full weekend.”
“That’s right,” she says, a little sadly I think. “Another thing Steve won’t let me do.”
“Is he here?” I ask. “I was surprised to see you on your own. And it’s Saturday.”
“He’s away, a two week business trip,” she explains. “I didn’t see why I shouldn’t come, just to watch of course. I thought I’d come today, see what it’s like and maybe come back again tomorrow, if I’m still enjoying myself.”
“You should stay overnight,” I tease. “I’m sure we could find you a nice comfy stable to sleep in.”
She laughs nervously. I wonder if she’s secretly thinking she’d like that a lot. I decide to probe a little further. “You seemed very absorbed in the competition that was going on, it was like I woke you out of some kind of dream.”
Jenny smiles more confidently. “I was dreaming, you’re right. We don’t have the gear to play at that level, Steve thinks it’s too expensive, but I would love to. I’d give almost anything.”
“Have you ever had the backstage tour?” I ask, sensing an opportunity. “The stables, the tack rooms, the exercise yards the advanced ponies use? I usually do that for new members, to give them something to aspire to. With you I never got the chance.”
“No,” she agrees, “I’ve not seen any of that. I’d love to.”
“Well, no time like the present,” I say, taking her arm and starting to steer her towards the house. “It’s a shame Steve isn’t here, but on the other hand, it does mean you get my undivided attention. Anything you want to know, just ask.”
We’re walking now, my hand on her upper arm. Then I move it to the middle of her back. You can tell a lot from guiding a woman this way. Jenny is completely relaxed, she likes being steered round the refreshment and merchandise stalls. They’re only small decisions, but she wants me to make them and I get the sense she is deeply submissive. I could be taking her to hell now, and she’d come willingly.
We reach the entrance to the advanced enclosure, I show my badge and get a temporary one for Jenny. Now we’re walking across the concrete stable yard. A tall, impeccably dressed ponygirl is having her mane brushed and braided by a young woman in jodhpurs and riding boots. The groom looks up as we approach and smiles. The pony drops her head.
“Good afternoon, Master Philip,” the groom says. “Isn’t it a lovely day?”
“It certainly is,” I reply. “Jenny, this is Alice, one of our senior grooms, as you can probably tell from the outstanding condition of this pony. I’m giving Jenny the tour, Alice. She’d really like to play at this level, but so far she hasn’t had the chance.”
Alice looks at Jenny and smiles. “Well, Jenny, I would love to get my hands on you to groom. With the right gear, I just know you’d look absolutely stunning.”
Jenny blushes and murmurs something like “maybe one day”. I make a mental note to buy Alice a drink for saying exactly the right thing and then I’m steering my prospective recruit off towards the stable block.
Inside it is dark and cool. Most of the ponies are out with their masters, there’s just two or three in the stalls, looking out over the gates or lying quietly on the straw. “Tonight it will be absolute bedlam in here,” I explain, “when all the overnighters are in, being bedded down.”
Jenny looks wistful. “I just can’t imagine what it would be like, spending the night as a ponygirl, with all the others. Living it for two whole days. It must be absolutely wonderful.”
We emerge from the gloom into the main tack room, which is warmer and more brightly lit. Fortunately, the woman I really want Jenny to meet is right there, by the look of it catching up on some paperwork. She won’t mind being disturbed in the least.”
“Mistress Karla,” I exclaim. “Just the person I was hoping to find in here.”
Karla looks up and gets up from her desk with a grin betraying her relief. “Master Philip, it’s always a pleasure to see you. What can I do for you today?”
“I wanted to introduce you to Jenny here. She’s been a member for a year, in the intermediate class, but I think she has real potential to go further. Jenny, Mistress Karla is in charge of our advanced tack store and she is head groom. If she can’t turn you into a top level ponygirl, no one can.”
Jenny blushes again and looks at the floor, seeming unsure what to say. In the end she manages, “Mistress Karla, it’s an honour to meet you,” and does a kind of awkward curtsy. Karla gives me an enquiring look and, getting the wordless response she expects, circles Jenny like an eagle eyeing up a lamb.
“Well,” she says at last, “I think your judgement is right, as always, Master. Her bearing is excellent, she has a sweet face and a fine figure, I can make something of her with no difficulty at all. Get your clothes off, girl, and let’s see what I have in your size.”
“Take my clothes off?” Jenny exclaims in shock, turning to me. “Right now? I only came to watch today, I didn’t bring anything. What about Steve?”
“It’s very clear to me, Jenny, that it’s Steve who’s been holding you back. It might be that he’s really worried it’s him who won’t be able to perform at the top level, have you thought of that?" Her look tells me it hadn’t occurred to her at all, but now it has, she has all the excuse she needs to give in to her desires.
"Anyway," I go on, "where’s the harm in letting Karla kit you out today, so you can find out how you feel and if it’s really for you? Then, maybe we can help you persuade Steve that both of you are missing out.”
Alice appears in the doorway, having finished her grooming and sensing her help might be needed in here. Karla hands her a measuring tape. “Come on, Jenny,” she says. “You want to be a real ponygirl, don’t you? Well, the sooner you’re out of those clothes, the sooner Alice can get you measured up.”
Jennifer Harrison written by
I never realised there was so much more to this place! Somebody should have told us, should they? Oh, I get it. They must have told Steve, and he kept it from me! I resent that a bit, him keeping secrets. It makes me feel not so guilty about coming here today without telling him. And, if we’re keeping secrets…
They have a whole stable block for Ponygirls! Staying overnight? Spending a whole day as a Ponygirl? What a thought! It’s a total fantasy, I feel insanely aroused right now!
Oh my word, what an absolute vision! Standing right in front of me, the perfect Ponygirl, she’s as tall and beautiful as a supermodel, built like an Amazon warrior queen, towering over the girl fussing around her. She looks magnificent in her tack - a feathered plume rising from her bridle, the dark leather of her body harness contrasting against the light tan of her skin, the tail, the boots…
And she’s naked! Nobody out there is naked. We all wear clothes under the harness, anything from a full body suit to the skimpy bikinis that the dressage competitors were wearing. But this woman looks incredible, it just seems like the natural state of a true Ponygirl!
Wow, look at all the tack in this place! So much leather, so much equipment!
They like their titles around here - ‘Master Philip’, “Mistress Karla’. It’s all making me feel very submissive…
They’re offering to let me ‘try out’ being a proper Ponygirl! What an amazing opportunity! I know what Steve would say - “Don’t be silly”, “We don’t need that kind of thing to enjoy ourselves”, “It’s too expensive”. Well, not too expensive today! I get a free trial, by the sound of it. It’s an opportunity too good to miss!
I have to get undressed? Okay, but in front of him?! He’s making no move to leave. So…
I take off my jacket, blouse, skirt and shoes. I’m feeling a bit nervous about taking off my undies in front of this guy…
“And those as well, Jenny,” Mistress Karla says in a friendly but firm tone, waving a hand towards me. With a slight shrug, I remove my bra and panties, and add them to the pile.
Mistress Karla picks up my clothes and takes them to a row of lockers. She hangs my jacket in a free locker, then puts the rest of my clothes in. She picks up my bag, puts it with my clothes, then turns the key in the lock and puts it in a desk drawer.
“Your things will be safe here,” she smiles, and I realise that they are certainly safe from me retrieving them if I change my mind! But I’m not going to change my mind, am I? Not after fantasising about this for so long!
Alice takes various measurements, including my vital statistics and foot size, plus some rather less obvious statistics - my head circumference, the length of my neck, that sort of thing. She shows her list to Mistress Karla, and they have a brief discussion. Meanwhile, I put my arm across my chest and my hand over my pubic hair in embarrassment as Master Philip is still standing quite close and looking at me, with a smile on his face.
Alice starts retrieving items of tack from around the room and putting it on a nearby table.
“We just need to make a slight adjustment before we start, Jenny,” Mistress Karla says close by me, startling me. I look around and see that she has got a pair of hair clippers in her hand, and pulls my hand away from my crotch.
“Oh! What are you doing?” I ask nervously.
“It’s all right, Jenny, don’t worry,” Master Philip interjects, “it’s a rule of the club that none of our advanced Ponygirls have pubic hair. It spoils the whole look, you see. I’m sure you won’t mind.”
Oh my! I stand dumbly as Mistress Karla quickly removes my pubic bush. What will Steve say when he sees this?! Well, too late to worry about it now - it’s gone! I’ll tell him it’s the latest fashion, that my sister persuaded me to do it!
“Now, just close your eyes and mouth for a moment.” I feel a cool spray across my face, then all over my body. When I open my eyes, I look down to see that every inch of my body is glistening with oil. God, I look so sexy!
“The oil contains sunblock,” Mistress Karla explains. “We don’t want you to get any ugly or embarrassing tan lines.” These people think of everything.
“Could you hold your hands away from your body for me, please, Jenny?” Alice is asking now that Mistress Karla has finished. She is holding up a body harness and, when I comply, she starts to fit it on me.
The top part of the harness looks like a bra, except that the straps are made of leather and the cups are actually steel rings. Alice puts the harness onto my shoulders, then carefully eases my breasts through the rings, which seem too small for me. When the rings are flat against my chest and my breasts are bulging slightly because of the constriction, she fastens the harness behind my back.
Two leather straps come down from the two breast rings to another ring lying across my stomach. Two straps come out of the side of this ring, wrapping around my waist, and buckle behind me. From the bottom of this ring hangs a short strap ending in a buckle.
“Would you just spread your feet for me, please, Jenny,” Alice says, while holding up another leather strap. This has three rings of increasing size along its length, and I wonder what these are for. When she places it between my legs and begins adjusting it, I start to understand.
Oh! She’s playing with my clit! Pulling it through the small hole! Oh, that feels good! The middle hole fits over my vagina, while the largest is between my buttocks and centred over my anus.
With skill and dexterity, Alice holds the strap in place with one hand and attaches the strap to the buckle from the body harness at the front. She does something similar at the back, then tightens each in turn until I feel like I’m being cut in half by the strap! When she is finally satisfied with that, she pulls all the other straps around me until they are equally tight. Every breath I take now is a bit of a struggle, just emphasising to me how tight the harness holds me.
“Okay, Jenny, take a seat and we can fit the boots.”
Oh my goodness! I’ve been fantasising about this bit forever, and I’m not disappointed. They are black leather up to my knees, with a big splayed sole and no heel.
“Are those genuine horseshoes on the bottom?” I ask in amazement.
“Indeed,” Master Philip says, “all our advanced ponies are properly shod.”
Alice puts the boots on me, then laces them all the way up the front, being careful to ensure that there is not a millimetre of slack. The boots hug my legs, virtually eliminating any movement of my ankle. My feet are held in a position of the highest of high heels, with my own heel kind of suspended in mid-air. But there is a very firm sole to the shoe, so it doesn’t feel in any way unsupported.
“Why don’t you stand up and have a walk around?” Mistress Karla suggests, taking my hand.
I feel like a cross between Bambi on ice and a deep sea diver, clumping around the room with my arms out trying to balance. After a few minutes, though, I realise that because the soles of the boots are wider and longer than the foot they are attached to, they are very stable, and I’m in no danger of falling, I just need to make sure I don’t trip myself. Amazing! I never thought it would be this easy!
“Could you fold your arms behind your back for me please, Jenny,” Alice says. When I do so, she encases my arms in some kind of leather enclosure which reaches up to my armpits. Without my arms to balance me, I need to take a little more care, but the few minutes practice have given me confidence.
“Now bend over, please.” Alice is holding a long hair extension which quite closely matches the colour of my own hair, and I realise that this is to be my tail. But, oh my goodness, it’s attached to the biggest butt plug I’ve ever seen! That’s never gonna fit inside me, is it?
Alice slathers it in lubricant, before pressing it firmly against my puckered rosebud. Oh! Ow, that hurts! OH! Once it has slipped inside, it doesn’t feel so bad, but I can definitely feel its presence! When I carefully straighten up, I look around behind me and see that the ginger tail springs up and out from between my buttocks. It looks wonderful! I’m really starting to feel the part now!
Alice spends several minutes brushing my hair and pulling it tightly back into a French plait, ending in a disappointingly short ponytail. Why didn’t I let my hair grow long? It would look so much better with a high topknot ponytail!
“You don’t wear much make-up, do you, Jenny?” Alice asks. “Your skin is so smooth you don’t need to! I’m just going to give you some lipstick, so your mouth looks very dramatic when you’re wearing your bit.” She proceeds to apply a bright red stick, followed by lipliner and gloss.
Now Alice fits my bridle and, like the body harness, the leather is so soft, but she fastens it so tight… It feels incredible. Two large blinkers on either side block my peripheral vision, and all I can see is Alice in front of me.
Mistress Karla steps forward, and I see that she has a handful of tiny little padlocks. She proceeds to click them shut on my boots, various places on the body harness, and on the straps of the bridle.
“Why did you do that, Mistress?” I ask. “There’s no way I could get out of this anyway.”
“It’s psychological, really,” she replies, “now you know that, not only can you not free yourself, but no one other than the staff can free you.” As I think about that, I realise that she’s right, and the impact is to force me a little deeper into my sub-space. I’m at their mercy! The thought doesn’t frighten me, but rather turns me on!
“Which bit shall I use, Mistress?” Alice asks. Mistress Karla steps in front of me and puts her thumb on my chin, pressing down to open my mouth. She runs her fingers across my teeth. The thought that she is looking a gift horse in the mouth comes into my mind!
“I think the Trainer No. 2 will be fine,” she concludes. She moves aside and Alice is right there and ready to fit the device. I open my mouth to accept it, and she pushes it into place quite firmly, not too worried about how uncomfortable it might be.
I’ve only ever worn a simple rubber bar as a bit, and this one takes me by surprise, being made of rubber-covered metal. It pulls my lips back until they are stretched across my teeth in a rictus grin, and it locks in position behind my bottom molars. I make some retching sounds as I try to get my tongue into a more comfortable position, but the bit is holding my tongue down, and there is no more comfortable position.
Well, I know the golden rule of pony play is that a pony shouldn’t speak, but I realise that there is no way I could make any kind of intelligible sound whilst wearing this!
Now bitted and bridled, harnessed and hoofed, I glory in the feelings running through me. I’m incredibly aroused to be dressed like this! I never want it to end!
Finally, Alice attaches reins to either end of the bit, and proffers them to Master Philip.
“Your new pony, Master!”
Philip Campion written by
I accept the reins and take them over Jenny’s head, so I am standing behind her. I tug gently to the right; she feels it immediately in her mouth and turns obediently so I am seeing her in profile. A tug to the left and she is back facing forward. At least she knows that much.
I move up closer behind her, speaking softly and evenly, so she gets used to the sound of my voice.
“While you are here, Jenny, you will be treated as if you are my pony. That means, I want you to be happy and comfortable. You should be enjoying yourself, not feeling miserable or stressed. If you are asked a question, answer ‘Yes’ by pawing the ground with your right hoof. Answer ‘No’ by shaking your head. You can say ‘Thank you’ by pawing with your left hoof. Do you understand?” Her right hoof scrapes the floor.
“Now, a couple of really important things. If you need a toilet break, stamp your left hoof on the ground until someone comes to help you. And if you’re in trouble for any other reason, stamp your right hoof and shake your head. Got that?” She paws the ground again.
“Okay, that’s good. Is there any reason why you need to go back home tonight?” She shakes her head vigorously.
“Would you like to stay with us and sleep with the other ponies in the stable block?” More scraping the ground, this time with unmistakable enthusiasm.
“That’s settled then. Mistress Karla, will you make a temporary entry for this pony in the Advanced Register, please.”
Karla goes to the computer on her desk and brings up the registration form.
“The pony’s human name is Jennifer Harrison. Her pony name will be … Gingerbread. I think that will suit her well. You can get her owner and other details from the membership file. Register me as her trainer.
“Yes, Master Philip.”
“One other thing, Karla. Can I steal Alice from you for the rest of the weekend? She’s done a great job with this pony so far and I’d like her to make a start on some proper training.”
“Yes, of course, Master. I can assign her duties to someone else, no problem.”
“That’s great, thank you Mistress.”
I’m standing right behind Gingerbread now. I reach around her and gently take hold of her tits. With the restriction of the rings they’ve been pushed through, they are firm and fit my hands perfectly. I roll her nipples between my thumbs and first fingers and hear a soft sigh escape her lips.
“Alice, Gingerbread’s breasts are lovely, but don’t you think they should be decorated? Don’t we have any bells?”
“Yes, Master,” Alice says, “I’ll get some immediately.” She goes to a high stack of drawers behind Karla’s desk and comes back with silver bells attached to small, flat nipple clamps. Gingerbread gasps as the clamps squeeze her nipples, then shivers, making the bells tinkle delicately.
I hand the reins to Alice and walk round in front of the waiting pony. I look directly into her eyes. “Swish your tail for me, Gingerbread, and shake your tits. Make those bells really ring.”
As Gingerbread starts swinging her hips, I find her clitoris, still poking through the ring that Alice forced over it. As I work it with my thumb and fingers, the pony closes her eyes and lets out a soft “Ohhhhh!”.
“Open your eyes, Gingerbread,” I command. “Do you want me to make you cum?”
She opens her eyes and I can see the need in them. The bells are jingling, her tail is swishing and now she’s pawing the ground urgently with her hoof. “Make some pony noises for me, Gingerbread,” I encourage her, thrusting two fingers of my free hand through the larger ring in the strap between her legs.
With a final shake of her body and a cry somewhere between a human scream and a pony’s whinny, Gingerbread cums, soaking my hand. Alice steps in beside her, helping to support her weight, as her knees give way. Between us, we take her back to the bench and gently sit her down.
“Let her rest for a few minutes, Alice” I say, “and give her a drink. Then, put her on a long leash rein, we’re going outside.”
Jennifer Harrison written by
Master Philip has taken control of me. He’s using the reins to make me move my head - this metal bit digs into the corners of my mouth quite sharply, so it’s prudent to obey, even if I wasn’t already minded to do so anyway. He teaches me various ways of communicating without vocalising, which reinforces the ‘no talking’ rule, as well as making me feel and act a little more like a pony.
I agree to stay overnight, without a moment’s hesitation, and without thinking about what Steve would say. It suddenly occurs to me that he is almost certain to ring tonight - ostensibly for a chat, but really, checking up on me. He always does that when he goes away. I don’t know what he thinks I’d be getting up to. Does he think I would have an affair? I bet he’d never guess what I’m actually doing right now!
But he’s going to find out that I’m not there to answer the phone and he’s going to ask me about it - no, interrogate me! My mobile is locked away with my clothes so I can’t even pretend I was out with friends - he should still have been able to contact me.
Well, I don’t care, I’m not going to miss out on this opportunity. I’ll just have to cross that particular bridge when I come to it.
Oh, he’s fondling my breasts! Rubbing my nipples! I’m shocked that he would do such a thing, so openly, without asking if I was okay with it. He knows about Steve, but he’s not worried about that. I’m his pony, so he’ll do whatever he likes with me! Should I signal ‘No’? I don’t want to - it just feels so good! Now he’s having bells attached to my nipples! Although it pinches uncomfortably, even that is arousing.
It seems like he might do anything to me and, like a wanton slut, I’m letting him!
He has me jiggling my breasts, and shaking my ass like some kind of exotic dancer. He’s playing with my clitoris … Now he’s fingering me! Oh God, that is so amazing! In a matter of moments, I’m having the most intense, wonderful orgasm! I do my best to whinny at the point of climax, even though I feel embarrassed to do such a thing.
But he ordered it, and he’s in charge. I’m just a lowly pony, I do as I’m told! My legs are trembling as I sit on the bench. I just had my first orgasm as a pony, and it felt incredible!
So, I have a pony name. Gingerbread? It’s not quite the soaring, poetic moniker I might have chosen for myself, in fact it’s a little demeaning, it sounds childish. But that’s the point, isn’t it? I have no choice, and they get to talk down to me, like I’m a dumb animal. That thought in itself is quite arousing.
I’ve definitely reached some strange state I’ve never experienced before, one in which I am not only prepared to be treated in such a humiliating way, but in which I take perverse pleasure. If someone had said to me yesterday that I would allow myself to be groped by a man I had only just met, in front of two women I didn’t know, I would have said they were mad. Yet here we are!
I stand when Alice returns with a sports bottle and puts the plastic straw at its end into my mouth. She squirts water in but, as I can’t close my lips or suck on the straw, some of it dribbles out of the corners of my mouth and down my face and neck, onto my chest. She doesn’t seem worried about this, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
She clips the long leash rein to my bridle, removing the standard reins, and gives it to Master Philip.
“You’re new to the advanced pony programme, Gingerbread,” he says in a kindly voice, “so let me just be absolutely clear. What you are going to experience will be very intense, much more demanding than the intermediate level you are used to. If at any time you wish to stop, you must use the signals I taught you earlier. Understand?” I scrape the ground with my right hoof, and grin like an idiot behind the bit between my teeth. Intense. More demanding. It’s exactly what I am looking for!
Master Philip leads me out of the door, into the courtyard, and I am immediately aware of the slight breeze around my naked body. I realise I haven’t been completely naked outside since I was about five - skinny-dipping was never my thing - and the sensation is quite strange, especially around my breasts and nether regions because, of course, these are the areas usually covered by at least a bikini. I shiver slightly, even though the breeze is gentle and the afternoon sun is quite strong.
“You need to adjust your posture,” Master Philip says to me, “remember, you are a proud pony, eager to please your owner and trainer by looking and behaving your best. Stand up straight and tall, with your shoulders back, your back arched, and your head held up. Here.”
He uses his hands to move me into the right positions, moulding me. This involves touching me on my stomach, buttocks, pushing my shoulders back, repositioning my head, cupping my breasts to encourage me to push them forward. His touch on my bare skin is a exquisite, his fingers gliding over my body tantalising.
“That’s better,” he smiles, “now we can begin your training.”
He leads me across the courtyard, and I listen, entranced, to the sound of my hooves clip-clopping on the flagstones. As we move out onto the path leading away from the buildings, I feel the full force of the summer sun, and I’m grateful for the cooling effects of the light wind blowing in this more open space. I certainly hope that the oil on my body includes quite a high sun protection factor!
We enter a paddock and I notice that, with just the simple use of a gate latch, I’m effectively trapped in here as, without the use of my hands, I can’t open the gate to leave. It just reinforces my current feeling of non-humanity, pushing me further into this pony sub-space. It feels incredible!
Master Philip places me on the edge of a circular path of gravel cut into the grass, and walks away, letting out the long rein as he goes, so that he is now positioned in the centre of the circle, while I stand on the circumference.
“Walk on!” I hear him say, then feel something bump against my buttocks. When I look around, I see that he has a long training whip and is using it to ‘encourage’ me to begin moving. I start to walk ahead, conscious of the lunge rein gently steering me around the circle. The whip rubs against me from time to time, reminding me of its presence without threatening punishment. I walk two, three, four times around, becoming more confident with the hoof-boots until they feel perfectly natural.
“Trot on!” comes the command, accompanied by a slight pull on the lunge rein and a tap from the whip. I begin to jog around the paddock, once more feeling myself guided and controlled as I run. I feel my breasts bouncing on my chest, slightly restricted by the harness, and hear the bells on my nipples jingling merrily as I go. Several circuits are completed at this gentle pace before the next command.
“Whoa! Walk on, Gingerbread,” Master Philip calls out, and I reduce my speed back to walking pace. This pattern of walking and jogging is repeated several times, until I am finally allowed to stop.
I’m breathing quite heavily, and the warm sun has produced a slight sheen of sweat across my forehead, producing a prickling sensation underneath my arms, breasts, and between my legs. I also realise that the movement has caused the leather strap across my vulva to rub the sensitive flesh of my labia, as well as pulling the ring around my clitoris back and forth. The overall effect is that I am incredibly aroused.
Alice appears in front of me and squirts water into my mouth, which I swallow gratefully. She also sprays it on my face and across my chest, which is very welcome. She dries me with a towel, then reapplies the suntan oil to any areas where she feels it to be lacking.
When she rubs it into my breasts, buttocks and shaved pussy, I moan in response, surprised but excited by this openly erotic touch. I want it to continue but, all too soon, she steps away and the training resumes. More circuits are completed before there is another change of pace.
“Canter, Gingerbread!” Master Philip orders, and I feel a slightly firmer touch from the whip, though it still does not really count as a blow. I move from a jog to a run, moving quickly around the arena at the end of the lunge rein. I go around only a couple of times before I am brought back to a trot, and then a walk, now breathing heavily.
I don’t know how long this exercise routine continues, having little way to mark the passage of time other than the movement of the sun across the sky, but Alice waters me several times during the session. I fervently hope each time that her care for me will result in climax, but she ensures that she never goes that far. I begin to wonder if this is policy, with only the club secretary being allowed such liberties!
“Very good, Gingerbread, you did very well in your first training session.” Master Philip stands in front of me and strokes my face while giving me these kind words. I hope that he will give me another orgasm, as he did in the tack room, but no such luck.
He leads me out of the paddock, and I wonder what he has in store for me next…