Pony Ranch

Chapter twelve

"Act normally and smile sweetly, of course, Mandy replied, emphasising the word normally, or so it seemed. I felt embarrassed, for I knew who she was aiming at, but I hadn't intended my question to sound that way—kind of high-pitched and squeaky. I noted that none of my companions seemed overly concerned as the blue-suited figure approached, adjusting his flat uniform cap as he did so. That's why you never see police officers wearing their traditional helmets in police cars. Lack of headroom was a somewhat crazy, irrational realisation that came to mind despite the potential seriousness of the situation.

"What do we do?" I hissed in alarm as I watched a uniformed figure slowly exit the front passenger seat. I hadn't intended to sound so panicky, but it came out that way despite the blue flashing light switching off and replaced by standard orange warning ones flashing at the vehicle's rear.

I shook myself at that irrelevant thought and twisted my face into a welcoming smile so as not to look the odd one out, but at the same time, I recalled all those nightmares and dark thoughts that had troubled me ever since that first evening I'd arrived home with Beauty and Fluffy. Had retribution for my sins finally caught up with me? 

Mandy hit the appropriate button, and her window smoothly slid down as the young cop approached. He was young. That old cliché about policemen looking younger as you get older was true, but hell, I wasn't even that old, was I? This particular specimen looked about fourteen going on sixteen and was wearing a cap seemingly three sizes too big, propped up by his rather prominent sticky-out ears. Ginger-haired, blue-eyed with a face full of freckles, although marred by a severe bout of acne around the chin. He looked cute, though, and flashed a lovely smile around at us as he bent down before the open window.

"Trouble, officer?"

He shook his head, making that cap wobble precariously. "No, Ma'am. We were waiting behind you for the right opportunity to pass, heading back to the station now our shifts almost up. This roads round here are a bit bendy…" he paused, considering if that was the proper descriptive term.

"Very bendy", Mandy confirmed, gifting him a radiant smile. "And if I recall correctly, it goes on like that for a few miles before straightening and widening out. Probably based on an old cattle trail rather than something the Romans might have built way back, I expect!"

"Maybe, Ma'am", he chuckled and shot another not-so-discrete sideways glance toward young Suzy. Not surprising, I thought, for the girl was wearing a tight, very tight, sleeveless clingy top with a deep cleavage and no bra that did little to hide her perky nipples. Big Sarah had licked her lips appreciatively at the sight a little earlier, so his surreptitious glance wasn't surprising. 'Exhibitionist', Sally had muttered a touch sourly as we'd sat down to breakfast before Mandy's arrival.

"You won't maybe have noticed, can't see it from where you are, but your offside rear wheel on the horsebox looks like it's getting flat; that's why we flashed you. Have you got far to go, Ma'am?"

"Carlton Manor, not far, just a few more miles."

"Sir Jeffrey's place?"

I drew my breath in sharply, another sub-conscious gesture I couldn't help. Did the silly woman have to tell him everything? Just make them go away, please, was my silent plea. There was no need to tell him chapter and verse, given what we had inside that horsebox,  but Mandy appeared to have other ideas.

"Do you know him?"

"No, ma'am", the youth grinned. "Although I did dance with his granddaughter at the party, they have once the annual village summer fete's over. They let us off the leash, so to speak for that".

"Really! And is a police presence required at such a minor rural event?" Mandy queried with a note of humour in her voice.

"Nah, we was manning a stand on behalf of the Police Benevolent Fund, sharing a stand with some military guys and the fire service representing similar charities. It was voluntary, like on a Saturday afternoon, but we all had to be in uniform. Sir Jefferey always organises a little party for all the fete helpers and suchlike afterwards. Nothing too fancy and only a couple of hours, but he was pretty generous with the hospitality " He finished with a meaningful wink and cast another quick covert appreciative look in Suzy's direction as he talked.

Mandy laughed, having caught the movement, waving her hand to make him back off while simultaneously raising the window and opening her door. A moment later, the two of them were peering down, looking at the elongated wheel arch of the big horsebox that covered the double set of wheels. The young cop stood up and shouted something towards his buddy, who was leaning out of the half-open door of the driver's seat, looking back at us. A moment later, the police car pulled slowly forward, then reversed, carefully manoeuvring past us and forwards again to edge close behind the horsebox. He got out, rummaged in the car's boot, found what he was looking for, and leaned back into the driver's side.

"Tyre inflator," Sarah muttered as the three of us craned our heads to follow the action. He's plugging it into the cigarette lighter, I expect. Yup, look. Maybe you should get out and lend a hand in case they get curious about what we have in the box." Sarah winked at me, although she was addressing her words to Suzy. "Walk up and down a bit and distract them a bit. Flash your unfettered cute little headlights!"

"Fuck off!" Suzy replied automatically. "Mind you, it's a good job. We packed and secured them pretty thoroughly", she added, nodding towards the box which contained Candyfloss and a female pony called Pandora; I'd only glimpsed it when they loaded up Suzy's old mare at my place.  

"That’s one reason why we do it”, Sarah replied, and this time, I knew she was addressing me even if she was still watching what was happening behind us. “It’s not just about protecting our valuable two-legged cargo from damage in transit, but we don’t want their hoofs kicking the sides and raising a ruckus or anything if you’ve stopped at lights or something. That’s also why we replace their mouth bits with ball gags. The ones we use, no matter how tight, a mouth bit never fully silences the beasts, but not much gets past a ball gag, even the ones with holes that we use for transit. Besides, you never want to have a mouth bit really tight unless they are fully supervised. You can do some nasty soft tissue damage leaving them like that without regular supervision. This helps a lot, of course, on long journeys”. She turned and tapped a couple of times on the large screen of the car’s sizeable entertainment console. The sat nav vanished to be replaced by a high-definition video image of the box’s interior. 

I must admit that I was hardly listening to the lecture. I was intently watching what was going on behind us, acutely conscious of an enormous overriding sense of relief. It was silly, very silly, I realised, but just for a moment, a part of me had been terrified, and only now was I slowly winding down from that abrupt high my guilt complex had ascended to. 

“Relax, honey”, Suzy advised, looking at me with concern on her pretty face. 

“Does it show?”

The girl nodded. “You went all tense; I can feel it from here and kinda panicky in the face if I can put it that way. Chill out. It’s no big deal!”

I thought it was all very well for her to say that, but if those two uniformed figures took a peek inside that horse box, they would cease being helpful public servants in an instant, and then where would we be? Handcuffed together and in the dock facing a whole life sentence, perhaps! But then again, why should they? They were merely doing their job, were they not? Kindly helping out a bevvy of law-abiding taxpayers, thus preventing a potentially more serious problem with our trailer later on. 

Well, why not? We were a law-abiding group in that we paid our taxes and weren’t driving an uninsured, unroadworthy vehicle in an intoxicated condition, nor had we robbed banks or committed similar offences. I was a pony owner, wasn’t I? Not a criminal! They just happened to be a rather unique type of pony. I excused myself mentally closing the draw on the file containing kidnap, false imprisonment, sexual assault, grievous bodily harm, torture and so forth. I was glad, though, when Sarah tapped the screen again, returning it to the satnav feature.

“Slow puncture,” Mandy said, reaching for her seat belt as she resumed her seat. She waved as the police car slowly moved past, resuming its interrupted journey. We all did likewise and received a big smile and a thumbs-up from ‘big ears’ in the passenger seat. “The spares okay, so we can change it before heading home if needed; probably picked up a nail or something. I booked some rooms for us at the village inn for tonight and tomorrow. If memory serves me right, there is a small garage nearby, a general workshop-type place with a couple of fuel pumps and a recovery truck parked outside” The engine burst into life, and we moved off. “They probably do tyre repairs, so maybe that’ll save us a chore”.

“Twenty minutes or so”, Sarah said, looking at her watch and then at the dashboard's electronic display. “That’s five minutes fast, you know”.

Mandy nodded. “Bob likes it set that way in case he’s running late. Always has them set five or six minutes ahead. Stupid, but he’s always done it,” she shrugged. “And speaking of timepieces, did you clock the arse on that young cop? Now that’s something I’ll bet my Bob wouldn’t turn down in his Christmas stocking!” she giggled. 

“Well, I wouldn’t advise trying to gift wrap it for him anytime soon. Not unless he decided to take up a less ‘official’ position ”, Sarah snorted and pointed to a rapidly approaching road sign. “It's closer than I thought, and Sir Jeffery’s place is only a couple of miles from the other side of the village. What say we whiz straight on through, drop them off at the stable or wherever they want to hold them, head back to the village, leave the box for repair, and sort out our rooms at the inn? I’m feeling peckish, so we can maybe get a bite either there or at the pub at the other end of the village. One or other of them ought to be open, I’d have thought”.

“Sounds good to me” Mandy nodded. “Jeffrey never goes overboard when he organises these events. Always pretty low-key. Understated, I think, would be the correct term. No razzmatazz like you get at some events these days. Remember that one we flew out to in Dubai the other year?”

Sarah nodded. “Yeah, I wasn’t sure if we were attending a pony show cum international auction or watching the opening ceremony of the Olympic games. Impressive though, wasn’t it?”

Mandy laughed. “Certainly was, and perfectly themed. Mind you, hardly surprising given the size of that Princes stable and training grounds. Hell, I’ll bet there are countries smaller than that!”

“I’d have taken him, gift-wrapped or otherwise”, Suzy chimed in pensively, her eyes somewhat vacant as she stared blankly ahead through the windscreen “Such a cutie. I wonder if those freckles and curly ginger hair extended all over him?”

We drove into the village a few minutes later, three of us still chuckling and one young, indignant blonde madam sitting stiffly with her arms protectively crossed over her ‘unfettered’ assets, quietly mouthing profanities at her teasing travelling companions.

*****

Low key, Mandy had said, and I wasn’t sure what to make of that as we turned off the main road, which wasn’t all that ‘main’ but significantly larger than the one we followed into and then through the village. It was one of those charming, almost perfect picture postcard villages, all timber-framed buildings, thatched cottages, a large tree-lined duck pond complete with ducks down by the ancient-looking church at the far end. I say almost because there were also a lot of modern buildings, red brick houses and retirement-style bungalows in abundance, plus a modern-looking convenience store housing the post office with a bank of garish yellow Amazon lockers outside.

“Changing!” Mandy muttered disapprovingly. “Looks different every time I come here”.

“Houses,” Sara said. “People need somewhere to live, and everywhere is the same these days with the growing population. You and Bob have objected to that proposed housing development in the local village, haven’t you?”

Mandy nodded. “Me, Bob and virtually the whole village population!” she gestured behind in the direction of the receding village. “I mean, why? Just like that place in the middle of nowhere, no railway, one bus a week if you're lucky and roads that have rarely changed in a century and more, built for horse and buggy! I mean….”

“Talking of horse and buggy”, Sarah interrupted. “Isn’t that the turning coming up?” she pointed ahead.

Mandy nodded, and a moment later, we swung to the right to follow a winding, narrow grey gravel track through a wood that terminated in a pair of wrought iron gates set in an aged mossy green brick wall. I was reminded a little of Mandy's place, although her main entrance was far more open and had the gatekeeper's lodge next to it. Whereas there was nothing here other than a polite sign asking visitors to press the red button on the intercom, and then when someone answered, hold and press the green button and speak slowly. 

“Stone age!” Suzy muttered, eyeing the rusty intercom box. “And those cameras aren’t much better.” She nodded toward the sizeable units perched atop the two gate posts. The right-hand one swivelled slightly from side to side as we watched, and Mandy opened the car door to do as instructed, but that proved unnecessary. The gates swung inwards, one moving smoothly, the other in jerky, wobbly movements as though undecided whether to admit us or not.

 “Well, you can offer Sir Jeffrey the benefit of your IT expertise”, Mandy suggested as we moved slowly off again. “I’m sure he’ll listen politely, but don’t expect anything to happen any time soon. You saw that moss growing on the wall back there? That’s about the speed of change you’ll get here, plus our host is the kind of person they had in mind when they coined the word frugal!”

The gravel path meandered around a few curves until suddenly the trees gave way, and we emerged from the woods toward a large imposing red brick house fronted by a small gravelled forecourt. Not what you’d describe as a stately home by any means nor that old by the look of it, maybe early last century or perhaps later. No Blenheim Place or the one featured in that TV show, Downton Abby, but still one hell of a lot bigger than my humble country abode. 

Mandy slowed as we approached the building, and then a short, scruffy figure appeared on the wide front steps and made a gesture with one arm, repeating it several times, then raised a thumb to us as we cruised past to follow the track around behind the house. Elderly with lank, long white hair, an unkempt father Christmas beard of similar length and dressed in scruffy faded blue jeans topped by a mustard yellow sweater with numerous large holes exposing the red shirt or vest underneath. The unkempt figure watched momentarily and then disappeared back into the house as we turned the corner. 

“Welcomed in person by the main man himself!” Sarah laughed. “A knight of the realm, no less!”

Suzy and I gaped at each other and then turned as one to look back, but we’d rounded the corner by then. 

“Impressive, is he NOT!” Mandy muttered, turning the wheel as another figure emerged from an outbuilding, waved and pointed to the track running alongside. “And to think they gave him a knighthood for services rendered to the crown when he was in the diplomatic service. I hope he didn’t turn up at the investiture with Her Majesty dressed like that!”

She slowed and moved over to make room as a cart approached us at a brisk pace, pulled by two high-stepping ponyboys moving in perfect harmony at a steady trot. The driving seat was occupied by a youth clad in blue shorts and a purple tee shirt who raised his whip in casual acknowledgement and just as casually flicked it out to catch the nearest ponyboy as they flashed past. I got a glimpse of those sturdy hoof, booted legs pumping up and down like twin pistons, mud-splattered thighs and bleeding well-whipped rumps with the usual tail sprouting from their rectums, and then they were gone. I did note that unlike other ponies I’d become familiar with, black leather hoods covered their heads under their bridles.

“Cool” Suzy chuckled. “Shocking Pink and dayglow orange, I like it!”  

“Eh?” I threw her a questioning look as Mandy slowly pulled forward again.

“Their hair, through the top of the hoods…. you didn’t notice it?”

I shook my head, feeling a trifle bewildered. “No, I was too preoccupied looking at their other ends”, and then they rounded a corner, slowly driving past what looked like a sizeable vegetable garden, several greenhouses and neat rows of fruit bushes towards another set of buildings. There were several camper vans like the one Penny had used at my place, but only larger ones and various horse boxes were parked nearby.

One of our host's little quirks. We’ve all got one or two or a dozen,” Mandy chuckled, turning the wheel again. ”He keeps his pony boys hooded 24/7, and their heads are completely shaved except for that dyed tuft sticking up through its hood, and of course, none of them are old enough to have started going thin on top. That’s one thing he and Bob have in common: age, not hairstyle, and they’ve indulged in more than one bidding war over a lithesome young colt. Here we are, and here’s little Charlotte is waiting to welcome us”. 

“Not so little, now”, Sarah commented, opening her door as we stopped.

“Heya, Mandy, hi Sarah”

We’d pulled into a semi-enclosed area of hard-packed earth bounded on three sides by a sizeable modern building of grey corrugated metal and plastic panels and a much older long, long, low-L-shaped, ancient-looking stone building. A dark-haired young girl with a high ponytail was waiting outside the later, waving as we pulled up. I couldn’t help noticing the glaring contrast between the two buildings, the pristine gloss of one and the decidedly greenish hue of the other from the varicoloured moss covering its rough, weathered stone and the darker, long tendrils of ivy clinging tenaciously to the old building.

“Hi, Charlie. You’ve grown some since the last time I saw you,” Mandy greeted her as she climbed out of the car. 

“Yeah, it's kinda catching. Lots of people my age are coming down with it,” the girl laughed. She was naturally pretty without the slightest hint of makeup, and certainly none of those enhancements that irritated Mandy so much. I noticed no small gold nasal piercing nor one through her belly button since a generous expanse of smooth, flat, lightly tanned flesh was exposed between her knotted white shirt top and low-slung ripped hipster jeans.  

“How’s Bob? Still sulking about that Welsh colt he lost out on the other year?”

Mandy laughed. “Hmmm. He’s more or less got over that one, but if you mention a certain French one, he’s liable to go up in flames. He swears that the auction was fixed, rigged against him. He reckons it was only done out of spite on your grandfather’s part, and that was years ago now! Oh, by the way, guys, this is Charlotte, Charlie for short, our host's granddaughter. You know Sarah, of course, and this…this overexposed young madam is Suzy, one of my stable girls currently on loan to my good friend here while she gets established.” Mandy did the introductions, and we shook hands. 

“I see the old miser has finally got rid of that decrepit pile of brick and timber he called a training hall. Bob always hoped it would fall on top of him, and I’m surprised it didn’t. I never liked going in there”.

Charlotte giggled. “You’re not far off. Everybody knew it was only a matter of when rather than if. He was exercising Boromir and Faramir one afternoon when….”

“Tolkien, Lord of the Rings,” Sarah whispered sideways, not all that quietly. “He always names his ponyboys after literary characters! Sorry, Charlie”

The pretty girl acknowledged the interruption with a lovely smile. “Well, just as he was giving them both a damn good thrashing and they were screaming so loud the roof fell in on him! At least, that’s how he tells the story. In reality, we’d just had a bad storm, and a few rotten, soggy pieces of timber gave way and dropped along with a dozen tiles and nowhere near him, and so, finally,” She gestured to the big new building. “Fully heated and air-conditioned. I twisted his arm on that, and…I thought he and Bob were good friends?” her face looked puzzled.

“Oh, they are”, Mandy reassured her. “They went to that ponyboy racing event in Texas last year together. They just fight over the occasional Ponyboy. Personally, I think they enjoy it and all the accompanying bitching when one of them loses out. Worse than a pair of crotchety old women!”.

I’d been half listening to the exchange and part looking around, giving in to my curiosity. This was only my second ‘pony’ stable after Mandys, not counting my modest domain, and Charlie seemed very nice. Little Charlotte Mandy had called her, but she wasn’t that petite. Compared to Sarah, yes, but we were all on the short side compared to her. I don’t mean she was built like one of those seventies Russian lady shotputters chock full of hormones and steroids, etc. All meat and muscle with barely a hint of femininity. Sarah was definitely female and very attractive but in an Amazon sort of way way. 

Charlie was more on par with Suzy, a little taller and a shade slimmer but several years younger. A little too young, maybe, I thought and made a mental note to ask Mandy later. The two girls already had their heads together, giggling about something as they helped Sarah with the trailer doors and ramp. I felt Mandy touch my arm, and she pointed out various features with her other hand.

“It’s a fairly conventional old-style stable set up along this side and yonder,” she indicated, the L-shaped weathered stable with rows of traditional green double doors. I quickly counted twenty-two, twelve stalls along one wing and ten down the other. Most were closed, but about a third had the top door open wide, and in the nearest two, I could see the occupants looking back at me. Harnessed upper bodies, black faceless heads with that strange tuft of colour sticking out, one bright red and the other a near fluorescent yellow. At least from the way the heads were turned, I assumed they were looking at us.

“That big new building has replaced the old carriage barn and store shed that they also used for indoor training. That place never recovered from the hammering it got in World War Two when the estate became a military training camp. It was originally built about the same time as these,” she said, gesturing to the rows of stalls. They go back well over a hundred and fifty years. The owners at that time were heavily into horse racing. There is a row of cute picture book stone cottages off in that direction that date from the same period, built for the staff and still serving the same purpose but refurbished to modern standards” She suddenly laughed and winked. “Those stable block stalls haven’t received quite the same upgrade level for the present occupants!”

I nodded. I could imagine, especially as she’d already used the word frugal! The old wooden double doors looked to have been recently painted, and the roof showed many new tiles among the older ones, but that exterior covering of moss and ivy hadn’t grown overnight, had it? 

“Of course, the big house is much newer”, Mandy continued after a momentary pause as we watched the two girls wrestle with the door to the horsebox before Sarah added her weight. They’d had the same problem back at my farm, and I’d had to lend Sarah a hammer to bash something on the lock or door catch. Evidently, that brief touch of brute force hadn't resolved the issue.

“Early-fifties, ugly red brick, once the post-war time shortages of materials began to ease.” Mandy continued. "I think it’s horrible and quite out of character with everything else. I wouldn’t have stayed there even if all his guest rooms had been free. It's a bit dreary and dingy inside, but Sir Jeffery doesn’t seem bothered by it. Still, it’s a shame the original house got blown up”.

“Another war-time victim of the Luftwaffe?” l looked back to where the big new building blocked my view of the woods and the house we’d driven past.

“Nope,” Mandy laughed, shaking her head. “The Yanks. The place was assigned to the US Army in 1943 and became a huge, tented camp and training area. There are some aerial photos of it in the study. The old carriage building took a bit of a hammering from various activities but was still useable when they departed for France. In contrast, the house was already roofless and near ruin when they moved in, and it was ultimately blown up in some exercise. The new one is built on what remained of the foundations, and part of the old cellars survived along with those broad front steps he was standing on”.

“I wondered about them when we drove past. I thought they were a bit excessive, I…hey!”

Sorry,” Mandy apologised and released my arm. “Didn’t mean to squeeze and pull that hard. Come on, let’s see them settled in. I don’t know about you, but I’m like, Sarah, definitely feeling a little peckish. Charlie will know of a good eatery, I expect and besides I want to quiz her as to who’s attending tomorrow’s sale. Of course, they never tell you, so you’ve no idea till you arrive. Standard practice,” she shrugged. “I mean, I’m not that worried. I’m only here because of young Suzy, and I thought it would be an interesting experience for you. Besides,” she shrugged again, “they’re always fun. It does help, though, if you have an inkling of what the opposition is liable to be if you have a definite interest in one of the lots. Ah, here we are, home sweet home for our two for a day or two”.

Sarah came out of the end stall of the shorter part of the L-shaped building, smiling and wiping her hands on a piece of blue paper towel. “All shipshape and secure and no longer our responsibility, boss. I’ll go look at that tyre, and then we can head off for some grub”.   

“Not quite”, Mandy muttered to me as Sarah moved away quietly, humming to herself. “If that animal belonged to me, yes, but as it doesn’t, then no. I’m selling it on its owner's behalf, so I have a certain responsibility until it's sold, papers duly signed and ownership transferred, and then my responsibility ceases” She suddenly chuckled. “Not that any of that is legally binding, at least in a legitimate law court. Not that anyone’s ever been silly enough to do that!”

I looked over the lower door at the unfortunate pony standing so forlornly in the spartan stall, felt a momentary twinge of pity for the poor thing, and nodded. “Yes, somehow, I don’t think the relevant authorities would be all that interested in the legal niceties of such ownership. I can think of other aspects of such ownership that might be of greater interest to such authority!”

I could hear Suzy talking with or rather to Candyfloss in the next stall. I wondered how much the poor old mare knew about her pending transfer of ownership. Not much, I’d suspected when we loaded her, although maybe she could guess something was up from that supposedly reassuring tone in her young owner’s voice. Animals always know when something is in the wind, and human animals, I guessed, might be even more perceptive, given their intelligence and understanding. Now, it seemed Suzy was filling in those blanks for her.

“It’s all for the best, Candyfloss; just think how much fun you’ll have with a nice new young owner. I expect she’ll appreciate you much more than I have, and you won’t be neglected as much as you have been. No more standing around being bored all day after day with nothing to do because I was so busy, won't that be a nice change?” 

“A change maybe, but I doubt it will be very nice”. Mandy grunted and joined Suzy in the next stall while I stared thoughtfully at Pandora. Her husband, they’d told me, had been called Spartan. A singularly appropriate name, I thought, looking around that narrow, basic, indeed primitive enclosure. Narrower than mine and those at Mandy’s place with what had once been white-washed stone walls long since turned to a dingy grey colour. The usual pile of straw covering the dirt floor in one corner that would instantly squash down to nothing when the pony laid down upon it. The standard form of bedding, and I’d adopted it from the first for Beauty before I’d even met Mandy or seen her stable. It seemed an appropriate way of reminding the creatures of their animal status, not that they needed such, given their circumstances.   

“I wonder what’s her story?” Charlie pondered thoughtfully beside me, also looking at Pandora. “I got in late last night, had an afternoon exam at silly o’clock and then spent the evening with my bestie. They were going to drive me over, but their stupid electric car wouldn’t start, so Grandad had to come over and pick me up” She giggled and pulled a face. “He wasn’t best pleased, especially as he’s a bit old-fashioned!”

I glanced sideways. The giggle and cheeky grin on her face made her look even younger. “You live here then with your grandfather?”

“She is kinda sexy and not at all bad for her age. Definitely not a ponyboy, and it's been a while since I had a new pony…well, not since the birthday before last, and that was yonks ago, and I’ve never had a female one! Charlie shook her head, sending that long black ponytail swaying side to side, then turned her attention to me. “No, I don’t live here, well, not full time, but I do spend a ton of time here” She giggled again and waved a slim hand towards Pandora. “I mean, well, why not! It beats hanging around Costa or Mcdonalds with the guys back home and talking of beating….” She turned her attention back to Pandora, and I noted the pony took a couple of steps backwards as far as her daytime tether would allow. Charlie's apparent fixation was evidently unsettling her.

Charlie snorted with amusement and resumed the conversation, although her eyes were still fixed on the nervous filly in front of us. “Boarding school down the road four nights a week, well not exactly down the road but a lot nearer than our house in London is. Mum went there and said it was pretty gross in her time. She grew up here, and Grandad’s on the board of governors, so I guess I get to follow in her footsteps”.

I gave her an amused look. “Still gross?”

Charlie pulled a face and then laughed. “It’s actually pretty cool, especially now that I’m a senior. Absolute heaven, my mum says, compared to when she served her time there without any remission for good behaviour! All big dorms, cast iron bedsteads, scratchy ex-army blankets and as much soggy green cabbage as you could eat with every meal bar breakfast. Mind you, I’ve talked to some of her friends during the ‘old girls’ day in summer, and I think she’s exaggerating a bit or more than a bit. We’ve got twin rooms with ensuite bathrooms, Wi-Fi, TV, cafeteria-style meals, and much more. It costs a fortune every term, and Dad always moans about it but coughs up when the bills come in. They’re divorced, of course, but” she shrugged, “hell, who isn’t these days!” I wonder how much she’s likely to go for tomorrow?”

“I have no idea. I’m very much a novice, I’m afraid. This will be my first auction.”

“Really?” Charlie exclaimed with a sort of accompanying sympathetic sound. “Well, don’t take this one as a general example. Grandad is always so fuc…, so damn lax when he organises these things. Other livestock sales I’ve attended have been far more professionally organised, and you get all the info well in advance, either electronically or via glossy brochures. However, that’s becoming rarer, I’m told. Whereas him” she jerked her head sideways, presumably towards the house and dropped her voice. “Cheapskate Charlie, some people call him. When he decides to sell off a ponyboy or two, he invites his mates and various other people along to buy or sell any they’ve got spare or want to sell and does it all on a shoestring budget. That’s why there will only be a handful of people here tomorrow, then again,” she considered. “He never takes a commission or anything, not as far as I know anyway”.

I nodded. “Mandy wanted to ask you who was attending, and she did tell me it would be a rather small and low-key event. I’m sure it will be fascinating though”.

“Maybe?” Charlie nodded to herself. “I like her. Have you been to her place? I was there with Mum a couple of years ago. It was mega cool. Do you know much about this one?” Her attention returned to Pandora, mine too, for I’d seen next to nothing of her when they loaded up Candyfloss a few hours earlier. Sally suddenly became emotional even though I’d only be away for a few days and smothered me with kisses and affection. A little embarrassing, I’d thought at the time, and fortunately, young Suzy, despite grinning like the proverbial Chesire cat, had refrained from saying anything. Maybe she’d sensed it would be ‘smack on head time’ had she done so.

“No idea”, I replied, but Charlie had moved over to put her head around the doorpost into the adjoining stall and called out. “I was too sleepy when we drove back last night to ask about it, about who’s attending tomorrow; I mean, and this morning, he was already up and out before I came down for breakfast. That’s an old one you’ve got there, isn’t she?”

“Oh, okay, thanks”, Mandy answered. “An oldie but still goodie…. ish!”

“What are they doing in there? I was curious.

“Giving it a quick touch-up with some makeup by the look of things.” The girl chuckled, pulling a face as she resumed her perusal of Pandora. “Going by the saggy udders on it and the wrinkles, I’d suggest a steam iron and a bicycle pump might be more apt!” She giggled again and gave me a mischievous wink. “That was a bit naughty, wasn’t, although it’s probably just as well Grandaddy is not on a commission looking at that one!”

“Candyfloss is not for sale. At least not as far as I know. She’s involved in some sort of a partial swap deal for a ponyboy that Mandy’s organising on Suzy’s behalf”.

“Well, she’s come to the right place,” Charlie muttered. Ponyboy City! Grandad has never been interested in anything else! This fine-looking filly, I take it, is for sale?” Charlie asked quickly, a slight note of anxiety evident in her tone. 

I nodded and couldn’t help laughing at the sudden look of relief on her cute young face. “Yup, no strings attached so far as I know. Candyfloss next door is some sort of private deal, as I understand it—nothing to do with Pandora here. I’m not sure I’d call her a filly, though, more mare, perhaps. Apparently, she was a short-term livery along with her husband. I gather they were owned by a middle-aged showbiz couple who’ve recently split up but amicably. No arguing about who gets what,” I grinned, recalling that Mandy was chuckling about it just after we set off. ‘Good job, ' she said, ‘ because they can’t exactly take that one before the divorce court. Can they see who gets what? House, cars, money, cats, dogs and kids, but not two-legged ponies!’

“Husband?”

There was the sound of a couple of hard slaps from the next stall and a curt “Stop it, you silly animal, what on earth has got into you today? Hold her steady, please, Suzy. I want her to look her best for this transaction, not like a damn circus clown with gunk smeared everywhere! Keep her still”.

Charlie and I shared a brief amused look before turning our attention back to Pandora, who was shaking her head from side to side and stamping her hoofs in the dirt. Anger or stress management, I wondered, probably both with a hefty dose of fear and apprehension thrown in. She was a tall, broad, shouldered pony with a pair of generous udders that bobbed so delightfully with every move she made and long, strong, shapely legs that were just made to end in a pony hoof boot. She still had a full head of long, wavy dark hair, which contrasted strongly with her pale white body. An indication that she hadn’t spent much time out in the open air recently.

“I’ll bet you could dye some of that white hide different colours. Now, wouldn’t that be cool?” Charlie muttered to herself, and I knew what she meant. I’d never seen one, but some owners I’d heard had ponies that had been heavily tattooed. Pinto’s being the most popular someone had said. Charlie’s mind, it seemed, was running along those same lines, looking at Pandora's pristine white skin. Well pristine, apart from the faded crisscrossing marks of past whippings. Her following words added confirmation.

“She’d look very pretty, and you wouldn’t have to do all that many patches, would you, or maybe spots? Or do you think that would be too Dalmatiany if you get my meaning? Dye would wash off, of course, in time, whereas tattoos…..”

I smiled at her serious, thoughtful young face. “Longer lasting and thus lower maintenance”, I agreed, and then, thinking along those lines as the girl pondered, my mind switched to an image from the previous afternoon. Suzy had been busy with soap and razor, shaving every stray hair she could find on Candyfloss bar eyebrows and that impressive high pink plume atop her head. That had prompted Sally and me to perform similar personal hygiene on our captive trio. Animal maintenance, Sally called it, rather than the regular daily grooming.

I’d given her a hand with Medusa as she removed stubble from the mare’s prominent pubic mound and the scalp on either side of her growing Mohican cut. Naturally, the big ugly creature had gone wild, especially when Sally did the intimate lower-level bits. However, my diminutive lover was no novice, and I wasn’t stupid. About the only thing Medusa could move was her bulging angry eyes the way we’d got her strapped down before we started.  

Her ex-boss, Goldie, wasn’t too different behaviour-wise when we swapped over and did him with the added attraction, if you could call it that, of freeing and teasing his sizeable cock for a while. Sally mostly did that; it amused her to flick it up and down with a tiny finger. I recalled that Sarah had mentioned in passing once that Sally had often shaved and groomed the genital areas of Bob’s two massive stallions. Her little hand pumped Goldie's sizeable shaft until it reluctantly stirred into life and then, with growing enthusiasm, took on a life of its own to stand stiffly to attention before her amused face. Its circumcised, bulbous purple tip was almost quivering with anticipation. 

Anticipation inevitably doomed to disappointment, as the foolish creature should have realised by now. Sally and I were natural soulmates and agreed on so many things, and one of those was a big NO-NO when it came to allowing orgasms for our animals. Taking them to the threshold was amusing, but neither of us believed in allowing them to put so much as a toe across that forbidden threshold, let alone the whole foot. No way!

My mother used to say that the ‘way to a man’s heart was through his stomach’, an oft-repeated cliche that may or may not have been true. My father’s favourite was ‘I’ll bet that made his eyes water’ when something untoward happened to some unlucky guy on TV or at the movies. So far as the first one went, the diet we fed Goldie might be good for his heart, but I doubt it endeared either of us to him. As for the second, Well, even a child-sized hand could make a man’s eyes water when it ceased sensuously pumping and moved South to viciously squeeze upon a hairless ball sac, instantly killing any lustful ambitions stone dead! I smiled and then realised Charlie was giving me a questioning look as though I’d said something or made a noise.

“Sorry, I was just thinking…about ease of maintenance.” I nodded towards Pandora. “And shaving. That one’s got a pretty prominent bulge on her, hasn’t she?”

“Mmmm,” the girl pursed her lips, looking where I was. “Now that crack of hers is just crying out for a nice tight crotch strap, don’t you think. Maybe with the occasional insert if she a very good girlie!”

“Nice?” I queried with a chuckle.

“Well, nice to me. I’ve added tail inserts to Ponyboy but never had the opportunity to fill two holes! That would be extra fun, wouldn’t it? You mentioned a husband, so what's Pandora’s story, then? I mean, well, sugar and spice and all things nice, I think it’s time we had something a bit different around here”.

“You mean that you wish you had something different to play with. You’re the twin of this one, almost,” Mandy said, joining us along with Suzy. “Only my young friend here is lusting after a cute young ponyboy of her own. You’d have liked this one’s mate,” she turned to Suzy. “A yearling, only about fourteen months in harness. Twenty-six in people years. Taken from the wild along with its mate, Pandora here, who’s a year or so younger”. She turned back to Charlie.

“They belonged to…well, that’s irrelevant. Read up on recent showbiz gossip if you like playing detective. Their owners were splitting, separating, selling or dividing everything and starting afresh, so they needed somewhere to stable the two ponies until they decided what to do with them since their property was no longer available. Bob and I went to their wedding and…yes, what?” she broke off, looking at me.

“Their owner's wedding, I assume, not the ponies?”

Mandy gave me a sour look, ignoring my silly question as she continued. “I’ve known them for ages. A nice couple and supposedly bi, but everyone knew it wouldn’t last. They were far gayer than bi, and it was a very ‘open’ marriage. A little bit too open by all accounts. Anyway, long story short, they became more attached to their latest lovers than each other, which led to the inevitable split. From what I've heard, it’s all been pretty amicable, with none of that speculation as to who’s telling the biggest lies and courtroom fights so beloved by the tabloid press. I’ve still got Spartan stalled at my place. He chiefly belonged to his Master, whose new boyfriend adores him, Spartan, that is. Whereas Madam's girlfriend is a green-eyed, possessive little piece of fluff. A jealous young bitch who’s not prepared to share her older lover with anyone or anything, not even a captive ponygirl, and so her owner thought it better all around if Pandora was permanently removed from that love triangle.”

“Not that she received all that much love, not from the look of her flanks and rump”, Suzy laughed. “Not from what I could see when we walked them over here”.

Mandy looked at her and then gave an indifferent shrug. “I’ve got Spartan stalled because ex-hubby and his new partner haven’t found it anywhere suitable to keep it yet, although they’ve been visiting him frequently. The hunk he’s taken up with is not the least jealous of his older lover's unusual pet and can’t get enough of him” Mandy paused and chuckled. “If you get my meaning. They’ve been making full use of all those stopping-off spots of Bob’s around the estate when they take him out. Poor Spartan, his world just got twice as bad, at least so far as one activity goes!”

Pandora made a stifled noise and stamped her hoofs again as she turned her back on the laughing female quartet. Mandy shrugged and continued. “As I said, the hunk in question is somewhat well-built, so I imagine that  extends to all areas and aspects of his anatomy!

“Sounds like he’d fit right in here then”, Charlie giggled. “Grandaddy was something of a romantic in his youth, or so I’m told. Although he had a roving eye for the ladies outside the house, he saved all or most of  his…his ‘physical affection’ for those housed in this building, which hasn’t changed with age!”

“Affection!” Is that what you call it, and what about you, young lady? I vividly remember a pretty young miss, pink ribboned pigtails and dental braces on her teeth not so long ago.” Mandy frowned and then laughed, winking at me. “A right little cutie, but the long whippy cane she was using on some poor helpless ponyboy didn’t go with the  ‘nice as pie’ image, as I recall. I wonder what happened to her?”

“Ugh!” Charlie shivered. “Don’t remind me. I loathed those braces and wasn’t overly fond of the stupid pigtails, either. Mum liked them, so I tolerated them back then, but that was then, and this is now, and they’re long gone and…” she paused, then giggled. “I’ve still got that cane, though! Now, about taking a closer look at  this gorgeous big uddered filly, if I ask nicely and say pretty please?”

“What does Miss Pretty please want?” Sarah joined us. “The Johnstons are here, by the way, viewing a pony down the far end. I was talking to them a moment ago, and they said to say hello. Are we done here for now because I’m famished? Did you ask her?” she nodded towards Charlie.

“Ask her what?” Charlie paused in the act of reaching for the stall door catch and half-turned. Her other hand withdrew a nasty-looking riding crop tucked under her hipster belt.

“Not so long gone, " Mandy chuckled and liked them too, the pigtails. I doubt you’ve become any cuter so far as these wretched creatures are concerned. Go ahead, but before you do, answer me one question”.

“Shoot”.

“Pub or village inn where we’re staying tonight, food-wise. Are they open at this time of day and if so, which is the better option for a gaggle of starving females?”.

Charlie glanced at the Apple watch on her slim wrist. “Both should be serving, but I’d opt for the Inn as you’re staying there anyway. The food is pretty good at both, but the pub is more bar mealy, with chips for everything, whereas the Inn has a much better menu with veggie options. A bit pricier, but you get decent portions.”. 

Mandy nodded her thanks and then added a sharp “Hey!”

Charlie paused partway through the open door to Pandora’s stall, looking back questioningly at the four of us. Her pretty face was a youthful picture of innocence. Her left hand had flipped the catch on the stall's lower door while her right held that slender riding crop she’d casually removed from her belt, presenting an image far less innocent.

“You know the rules. Looking, even handling the goods is one thing,” Mandy stated flatly, indicating the riding switch. “Damaging them is something entirely different. I might have to withdraw them from the sale, and whoever damages them will be responsible. It’s customary in such cases for that person or persons responsible to pay compensation or buy the goods outright at a price set by the buyer, usually a considerably enhanced one!”

“Really?” Charlie’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ll have to keep that in mind then, won’t I? Merely a badge of office, a symbol of my authority” She raised the crop and flashed us a very insincere mischievous grin. “You know Grandaddy’s been promising me a new pony for ages and has been very tardy in fulfilling his obligation, and he does so enjoy a good haggle! Well, enjoy your lunch, ladies. There is no need to hurry back. Off you go”. She waved the crop at us in an imperious, dismissive gesture before entering the stall, where the nervous pony tried vainly to back further away.

“Who’s a pretty ponygirl then?” That soothing tone was somewhat offset by the ominous sound of a leather crop smacking hard against the open opposite palm of the hand that held it.  

None of us said anything, and Sarah broke the silence as we took our seats in the car and fastened the seatbelts before Mandy started the engine. “Well, I think that might be one guaranteed sale, Boss, one way or the other, and I strongly suspect the other! Poor Pandora, I wonder if she may have been better off in the long run staying with her owner despite that jealous bitch she’s taken up with. I expect she’d soon get bored with the beast,  whereas young Charlie…well, it’s none of our business, and my belly is rumbeling.”

The car engine roared into life, and as it did, I glanced back at the stable. Such a sweet young girl, but then, weren’t we all? Besides, as Sarah had just said, it was none of my business. I looked at the head stable girl as a thought occurred to me. 

“Who are the Johnstons?”