Pony Ranch

Chapter Seven

“Have you had him out before” I pointed towards Goofy as he walked or, perhaps more aptly, shuffled forwards, his whole body radiating unspoken rage and discontent at the helpless position he now found himself in and his ability to do anything about it! He’d tried, of course, as had my Goldie harnessed next to him, but although I held the reins, Penny literally held the whip hand! The long carriage whip she so casually wielded in one slim, manicured hand had swiftly, not to say, savagely terminated any reluctance for the intended outing on their part. Although we hadn’t gone far, both animals already displayed well-stripped and bleeding rumps.

“Only the one time, briefly”, Penny replied, her eyes fixed firmly on the reluctant pair in front. “The day before, I came but only for about ten minutes. It took longer to harness him to my pony cart than we spent on the road!”

“Sounds like someone wasn’t very enthusiastic”.

Penny laughed and hefted her whip as though to lash out again but changed her mind. “Very unenthusiastic, but then I was probably being way too optimistic anyway, given I hadn’t had the beast all that long” Even as she spoke, her arm twitched. The long lash flicked out to deliver its savage kiss across the exposed flesh of Goofy’s shoulder.

“I’m going to need a lot more practice”, I contemplated, unintentionally speaking my thoughts aloud as her stallion jumped in his bonds, making the cart shake and throwing Goldie off his pace. Not that there was much to throw off. I’d seen how well-trained duos performed at Mandy’s place, a delightful balance of matched motion and a joy to sit behind. In comparison, these two clumsy animals were a vastly different proposition. Like comparing a tuned-up Ferrari to a poorly maintained garbage truck, and they were only walking!

“You’ll learn with some practice, as will those two creatures!” Penny laughed, delivering a similar biting leather kiss to Goldie’s shoulder, “as these creatures will given time. Ponies can’t escape their harness or the shafts they’re bound to, so the only option, if they want to avoid my whip, is to move forward. That’s lesson one!”

“And Lesson two?” I asked, smiling at her.

Penny turned and grinned at me before quickly delivering two more cuts, this time to the pony’s other shoulders. “Oh, that’s the given time part, and they’ll certainly have more than enough of that in their future lives. There is no soft-hearted parole board for these animals; the sooner they realise that the better not that it makes any difference to us. Lesson two is learning to perform exactly as we wish at all times. These two big boys may still think differently and probably will for a long time but in the short term, this makes all the difference and will eventually negate that process,” she laughed, shaking her carriage whip vigorously. “This or its equivalent, when applied to soft pony hide, ultimately equals obedience. It’s a straightforward but inevitable equation that even the most rebellious animal learns in time.

She said it with such a sincere expression that I laughed aloud. “Penny’s mathematical theory of pony training! However, I suspect it will take a whole textbook to get those two brutes moving in harmony, let alone looking as graceful as some I saw when I stayed at Mandy’s!”

Penny pulled a face at me and giggled before adding. “Maybe we should have run them in blinkers?” as our ponies automatically veered left around a corner, the reins hanging slack and unused in my hands. “Then again, that might have been one step too many considering they can’t even keep in step anyway, and you get the impression that although they’re going forward, it almost feels as though they’re trying to head off in different directions!”

I nodded, knowing instinctively what she meant. “The pairs of ponies I’d driven at Mandy’s had moved as one to the extent that it was almost like driving a singleton, even more so with those that were permanently matched together becoming virtually Siamese twins when in harness.

“Is there much difference?” I asked, watching our two hunky brutes doing their best to pull the cart and rebel against the indignity of doing so simultaneously, “between male and female ponies when pulling something like this. The fillies I drove at Mandy’s were so elegant, a joy to watch and sit behind?”

“Unlike Clumsy and Clodhopper!” Penny grunted, nodding forward. “I know where you’re coming from, but there shouldn’t be much difference with the appropriate training. Yes, fillies and mares always look a bit more graceful somehow than their male counterparts, something to do with their bodies and appearance. But performance-wise, they should be the same. I mean,” she qualified herself and asked. “You ever go to the ballet?”

I shook my head, thinking it a rather odd question to throw at me under the circumstances as that whip flicked out again, catching my Goldie presumably for some offence that I’d missed or perhaps just because she felt like it!

Nope, never…it’s always seemed a bit…” I trailed off, not quite sure how to say what I wanted to say, besides Penny might be a keen aficionado of the dance form, mightn’t she?

“Highbrow, somewhat boring, and not to say ridiculously expensive!” Penny laughed, delivering a similar stinging flick to her Goofy. “I tend to shut my eyes and listen to the music most of the time. I’ve got a girlfriend, an old school pal who’s a pro ballet dancer. Of course, she’s mostly chorus or whatever the backup is called, but I’ve seen her perform more important roles several times. She sends me first-night freebies, usually good seats, so I go along to lend her some moral support. She’s divorced, and her parents are dead. The divorce was a nasty messy business, anyway; that’s beside the point.”

“And the point is?” I gave her a questioning look, not getting her point. What had ballet to do with those two lumbering stallions up front?

Penny laughed and wagged a finger at me as though to curb my impatience, then pointed forward. “As I was saying a moment ago. There shouldn’t be much difference between a well-trained pair of female ponies and their male equivalents. Filly or mare, colt or stallion, they should all perform similarly when trained properly, just like the dancers. The general feeling is that female animals always look better and more pleasing to the eye than their male equivalents. But that’s down to looks and body form, not how they perform. That’s my point”.

I frowned and almost forgot to use the reins again as we approached a bend until Penny’s free hand reached over and tapped them with one finger. I realised what she meant and increased the tension on the log leather strips leading to the left-hand rings of their harness mouth bits to indicate where I wished them to go. Early days but they needed to get the message. They obeyed the reins and my wishes rather than their own common sense. In time the whip would teach them that they should continue their forward momentum straight into those prickly bushes unless their driver indicated otherwise. Obedience, blind, unquestioning obedience!

“And the ballet reference?”

Penny had raised her hand again and then hesitated, seemingly undecided which of our helpless beasts would accommodate the bite of that vicious whip. Goldie and Goofy followed the path around the bend but certainly more on account of their instincts at this point rather than any input from me, and after a lengthy pause, Penny lowered her arm and continued.

“Like the dancers. I mean, they are all so graceful, that’s what I meant, both men and women, even though the latter seem that bit sexier and pleasing to my eye. Their pose, the way they move, everything about them. That’s what I mean by there should be no great difference in performance, especially if you persevere long enough with your training regime. You get the point I’m making?” The whip hand suddenly raised, and that thin lash flew forward again with precise and deliberate accuracy. It missed the rump, shoulder and back to curl with deliberate cruelty around Goofy’s hip and land unseen on those parts that would have been missing in a gelding.

“Sorry,” Penny grinned at me as Goofy’s abrupt dance of agony was transferred down the shafts he was harnessed to and rocked the lightweight carriage alarmingly. “I just felt that urge come over me”, she laughed, dropping one eye in a wink to excuse her cruel blow. “Pretty good, though, wasn’t it? My aim, I mean?”

I let go of the rail I’d grabbed again in panic. “Yeah, very good”, I acknowledged a shade sarcastically. “Just warm me next time you intend to light the blue touch paper and send the poor creature into orbit and us along with it!”

Penny grinned and stuck her tongue out at me. “Practise makes perfect, does it not, Sweetie? I like to keep my hand in, and if the mood takes me when I’m holding a whip and there’s a suitable target to hand, well….” She nodded forward. “Come on, chop chop, shake those reins and get those laggards moving!”

I scowled at her and shook the reins. “Hup, hup, move it, move yourselves!” Even as I spoke, that whip flashed out again, but Penny contented herself by allowing it to crack over their heads this time. She was very good with that horrible thing, and I made a mental note to get instructions from her before she returned home.

“Don’t take this the wrong way”, I said as our two beasts lurched forward almost in unison, showing they were starting to learn. My Goldie couldn’t possibly have seen where that last blow from Penny had landed on his companion, not with that high-posture collar he was wearing, but I suspected he could guess. Yes, I thought to myself, although I found the sight of a freshly raised red angry wheal on a pony’s rump such a sadistically delicious erotic sight, that technique of hers would undoubtedly be worth learning. “Just how long do you intend to stay?”

“Why, getting fed up with me” she laughed.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know that! Stop being so irritating!”

 “Just teasing, Honey” She grinned and then shrugged. “To be honest, I haven’t overthought about it. After talking with Mandy, my original intention was maybe a week, perhaps a bit more, what with hubby and the kids visiting his mum in Scotland” She paused and shrugged her shoulders again. “I’ve nothing very pressing on at the moment, and I’m enjoying myself here. You were there when I got that call from my other half last night about Granny’s being hospitalised for a few days, so he’s staying up there a bit longer. I miss the kids, of course, but I gather they’ve made friends with a neighbour’s brood and are thoroughly enjoying themselves, so I doubt the feeling is mutual!”

“Does it work just as well on female ponies?” I mused, still thinking about that whip stroke she’d applied so accurately to her stallion, unintentionally posing the question aloud, for I’d only been half listening to what she told me.

“Penny immediately laughed aloud, instinctively sensing what I meant. “That willy womper flick! What do you think? Don’t tell me that you’ve never tickled your Beauty down there with a painful implement or two before now,” she giggled. “Although speaking practically, it does work so much better on the males of the two-legged equine species. They’ve more on offer, so to speak!”

I nodded. “Yeah, that’s understandable.” I grinned. “Well, if you’re going to hang around eating my bread and meat, you can give me a lesson or two in that technique!”

Penny giggled and cracked her whip over our stallion’s heads again. “Of course, I will. We’ll set up a couple of target dummies with some cardboard in the critical areas and see how we go. Once you’ve got the knack of shredding that, then…” she pointed forward with the whip and giggled again. “No shortage of ‘volunteers’ to replace the dummies for a little live practice!”

“Volunteers?” I queried, steering our reluctant team around another bend.

“Figure of speech, Honey. Funny how I’ve never yet failed to find a suitable subject or two for my little games when I’ve needed one!”

I thought, yeah, very funny, but not so amusing for everyone!

*****

“Nice ride?” Suzy asked as I steered the cart to the area outside the stable. Penny gave me an approving grunt because the two animals in front had obeyed the reins and promptly swung in towards where I wanted. Not very gracefully, I’d be the first to admit, as they plodded along like two indignant angry old men, bent, bowed and with not the slightest cohesion of movement between them.

“Not too bad”, I replied and glanced towards Penny, who nodded. “Well, possibly pretty good for a first outing, although we were mostly walking them.” I smiled down at the smaller girl as she offered me her hand to help me down from the seat as I tied the reins off to the front rail. “I see you’ve been keeping busy in our absence”.

“Uh-huh!” Suzy agreed, looking towards the big outside walker that Tony and his excellent team had installed. Until now, it had remained unused with its arms folded down and a green nylon protective cover over it like a large version of those outdoor rotary clothes airers, the ones with four arms that you push up into position with many strings to hang your damp stuff on. In our case, four damp female human equines were getting airing as they plodded around in circles. One didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to know why the wetting since the sky was blue and virtually cloudless. A discarded green garden hose still dribbling water lay in assorted coils on the scrubby grass.

“Tony’s gang should have put some gravel or dirt down there”, Penny observed, joining us. “That grass, such as it is,  won’t last long with them trampling all over it!”

“No problem”, Suzy shrugged. “Let them wear it down, and then we can sprinkle some stable floor stuff to cover it. We’ve got a ton of it in the storage shed, or even” She paused, looking back over her shoulder and then towards the four ponies. “Then again, why waste the fresh stuff when we can use what we muck out from their stalls? Rake the nasty lumps out of it and then spread it around for them to walk on or maybe not even bother doing that” She suddenly pointed towards Candyfloss, her pink-haired aged mare. “They’re going to do that anyway, aren’t they?”.

Candyfloss was high-stepping with immaculate precision as a well-trained ponygirl who’d been stalled for many years should. Her head up, back straight and raising her legs high, thighs parallel to the ground, her whip-scarred bottom and similar saggy breasts bouncing delightfully with every step. Nor did she miss a step or hesitate as a stream of semi-liquid shit emerged beneath her tail to splatter soiling tail legs and grass.

“What lumps” Penny laughed. “Looks like you’re getting their diet spot on to me. Personally, I prefer them always loose like that. Most owners do, I believe!”

Suzy shrugged indifferently. “That one’s been in a harness for so long now I doubt its belly could process anything decent anymore. How’d the big boys behave?”

I glanced towards Penny, who nodded, and so I said. “Not bad, they went pretty well, I thought, all things considered. Needed some firm and frequent encouragement from Penny at first, but they soon got the hang of it”.

“Next time, I think we’ll put them in blinkers, “Penny added. “Probably way too early to blindfold them entirely, but let’s see how they get on with their field of vision vastly reduced”, She grinned at me. “That’s always a…an interesting experience for them, especially once they have to pick the pace up when they feel the lash biting. It goes against every natural instinct to move and move at a fast pace when you can’t see much or anything at all. They have to learn to trust their driver along with the fact that they have no alternative but do as we demand of them! It’s not for them to decide to stop or make a sharp turn should you ever choose to run them straight over a high cliff”.

“Fun though”, Suzy chuckled, making a whipping motion with her crop. “Not the cliff part, though. I’d avoid that if I were you!” She chuckled, reaching into a pocket to pull out a small remote and pointing it towards the walker. How about I release Candyfloss and Chatterbox? Apart from getting some exercise, they’ve nothing new to learn, have they? Your two Stallions have hardly worked up a sweat yet, so what say I replace those two oldies with this fine pair and let them stretch their legs alongside Medusa and Beauty for a bit if they’ve only been walking? I’ll up the pace, and they can all have a nice little trot in the fresh air while we have a coffee break” She smiled at us. ”Sound good, ladies?”

I busied myself in the kitchen while Penny took herself off for a quick bathroom break and, no doubt, to refresh her makeup a tad. The girl was an absolute beauty and blessed with a flawless complexion that needed no foundation to cover the blemishes. I noted that she only used the merest touches of warpaint and didn’t even need to do that. I supposed it was a model thing that became a subconscious habit for a woman like her to touch up the paintwork occasionally. Who for though, I wondered, grinning as I lifted the kettle and filled three mugs. I doubted if Goofy was interested in his gorgeous owner’s appearance. Beautiful or ugly, her whip would bite equally, so it mattered not one jot how the person wielding it looked!

They’d released the two old mares by the time I carried the tray out to the picnic table and bench, just leaving my Beauty and Sally’s giant Medusa stamping their hooves and twisting back and forth where they stood as though trying somehow to release themselves from the long tethers attached to their posture collars. Even if they managed to get free by some miracle or equipment defect, they were surely intelligent enough to know that there would be no escape for them. There were three, often four of us, around, plus cameras keeping an eye on them. They were all harnessed, booted and virtually armless with those binders. I suppose one of them might be able to run down my twisty track to the road, but she’d set off a half-dozen and more alarms en route. Did they think we were stupid or something? Maybe their brains were already starting to atrophy, but I doubted it.

We could discuss some new topics when we all sat relaxing after dinner, finishing the chilled wine. Did it matter to a pony how its owner looked, and at what point did a pony realise that escape from its miserable new life was impossible? These possibly would be old topics to my more experienced companions but new and interesting to me.

I placed the tray carefully and absently mopped up one slight spill with a paper towel while glancing towards the open stable door. No, it was far too early for them to escape that way; their brains were still far too fresh, too full of pointless hope and vengeful hatred towards me and the others. Give them the slightest chance, and they’d take that vengeance and blend back into society with maybe nothing but the odd nightmare to trouble them.

I slid one leg over the bench, settled my bottom on the slatted bench, and swung the other over and under the table to join it. These simple rustic wooden picnic benches were a useful addition, but they were not the easiest to slide yourself onto, even if your legs weren’t long. Suzy and Penny were fussing about unharnessing the two Stallions, so I looked back to the stable again. Those two older mares, there had been no waking from the nightmare for them had there, and neither of them had gone…..what was that term my mother used to use? Doolally, that was it. Doolally, crazy, out of their minds despite the long passage of time since they last roamed free!

At least, I didn’t think they had, although how did you tell? We didn’t exactly go in for conversations with them, did we old or newly captive? You could tell a lot from their eyes and body language, couldn’t you? The more staid and passive older ponies had sad, somewhat resigned, melancholy eyes, and the newer ones were angry, enraged, with eyes that blazed with an internal fury. How did they differ within their minds, I wondered.

That made me think of Mindy or Miranda, as her mother named her. I’d never had a best friend, a bestie as they called them now when I was younger, but a small gang of girls had all hung out together. We’d lived near each other, belonged to the same Girl Guide troop and attended the same schools till we’d ultimately gone our separate ways to uni and so forth. Mindy had been the brightest, studied medicine, and specialised in psychiatry and mental health. I hadn’t seen her in several years as I’d heard she’d married a South African rugby player and moved to Cape Town. Mindy was always curious about cause and effect, what people thought about things and how they behaved, so I expect she’d have loved to probe the minds of our ponies.

I grinned to myself at that thought. Mindy had always been the more forward, the most adventurous of the gang, possibly because of that curiosity as we entered puberty and beyond. I’d have bet the guy she married was probably a forward, built for offensive bulk, not speed. Big for sure and significant in all aspects. Size had mattered to Mindy, and it was a joke in our teens that when sampling her latest conquest, she took a tape measure to bed with her and a box of XL condoms!

I was distracted by several meaty-sounding cracks as young Suzy reminded my Goldie who was boss and who was a captive pony courtesy of that long crop she was holding. Mindy had also been somewhat petite and possessed that same kind of effervescent irrepressible personality. She’d never seemed that small, though, possibly because of that towering intellect that made the rest of us frequently look like a bunch of thickos!

I watched Suzy march the reluctant animal to the walker, along with a few more encouraging cracks. Beauty and the Beast. Little and Large. The whip mistress and the whipped cur! The cute girl looked like a peach, a ripe, delectable and perfectly proportioned little peach. My recent conversion to sapphic delights had undoubtedly changed my perspective, hadn’t it? The girl looked adorable in those ultra cut down denim shorts, the bare midriff and tight little white top covering those cute firm titties that needed no bra and her mane of tussled ash blonde hair. A gorgeous little princess entirely in control of her big bad beastie boy, which was as it should be.

What would Mindy make of that? I wondered and then grinned to myself, for I’d a strong suspicion recalling my friend's somewhat advanced sexual curiosity as to whether she’d bat so much as an eyelid in her eagerness to question the pair of them and assess their respective positions. She was the sort of girl who’d put that crop to good use herself and then sit notebook in hand and question the golden boy about how he felt being beaten by her. Mindy had always had that sort of emotionless curiosity! How did he feel, Mister ex-Russian mafioso boss being beaten by a slip of a girl half his age or someone as glamorous as Penny?

“Penny for them?”

“Eh?” I looked up as the woman herself sat down on the opposite rustic bench, swinging her long legs over with a natural flare that I could never hope to emulate as she slid them under the picnic table and reached for her coffee.

“You looked miles away, so I thought I’d bring you back down to earth. I contemplated chucking something at you, but that would have been discourteous to my hostess. Besides, there was nothing suitable to hand,” she added with a big grin raising her mug to me in a mock salute.

“Bitch”, I scowled at her and then admitted that she was correct. “I was miles away, South Africa, if you want to know. I was thinking of an old friend I hadn’t seen for years. She’s a psychologist, a head shrink; I was wondering what she would make of all this” I nodded towards the walker where young Suzy was seemingly engrossed with the machines control box along with the remote she’d just fished out of a rear pocket flap in those minuscule shorts.

“Us or them”, Penny laughed, “those whom we might describe as the less fortunate members of this situation. Those who are undoubtedly being slowly and remorselessly driven towards insanity by those who already are insane! Or would be regarded as such by most or more likely all the global population!” she grinned and shrugged her shoulders indifferently.

“All?” I quizzed back.

She shrugged her shoulders again and helped herself. “Tens of millions or billions. I’ve no idea how many people there are on the planet, nor do I  particularly care” She bit into the biscuit, thought for a moment and then sprayed a few crumbs at me. “Which isn’t a bad thing for the infinitesimal few…that’s a good word, isn’t it, infinitesimal? I mean the small global assortment of people like us and our…..em, singular hobby, shall we say!” She swallowed the remaining biscuit portion and smiled at me, nodding towards the pony walker.

Suzy had disappeared, and the four animals stood restlessly, shuffling their hooves up and down and swaying about as though to test their tethers. I turned back to my glamorous companion, who was idly toying with a far too tempting double-thickness chocolate biscuit.

“Remind me who was casting doubt as to the accuracy of my bathroom scales the other day and boasting about her waist measurement that same evening,” I told her with a pointed glance towards what her slim fingers were toying with. “And why isn’t it bad for people like us?”

Penny pulled a face, sighed regretfully and reluctantly pushed the plate of biscuits aside. “Elementary, my dear Watson, was it, not Sherlock Holmes who once said you could deduce the likely existence of the Atlantic Ocean from one tiny drop of water, or something akin to that?”

I’ve never been a fan of detective fiction, old or new and promptly opened my mouth to make a sarky response to that meaningless reply, but a loud crack followed by a muted squeal stopped me dead. We both instinctively turned towards the walker from whence the sounds had emanated.

Suzy was back and had discarded her crop in favour of a medium dressage whip and started the machine at a medium walking pace. I had no idea which pony had been the first to receive some additional encouragement beyond the irresistible pull of that leather neck tether, but Beauty got the second. A full crisp blow that seared both rump cheeks and made her jump and hop as well as squeak into her mouth bit.

“You know, that big filly of yours is a splendid creature,” Penny observed, taking a long swig from her mug. “Just out of curiosity, would you have carried through with your plan to grab an animal from the wild had things been a bit different? Say there hadn’t been such a gorgeous specimen just waiting to be stalled, or if they’d all been prospective colts or stallions?”

There was another crack, and this time Goofy was the one squeaking and jumping as that thin braided leather bit deeply into his rump. Suzy, I’d noted more than once, never held back, never used half measures, didn’t do soft. It was all or nothing, which I suppose was understandable. Why spare the rod if the animal needs to be disciplined or motivated? I was becoming convinced that the old proverb was undoubtedly correct.

Penny and I watched young Suzy, standing there with the whip in her right hand,  left on her hip, casually watching the four helpless living beings who had no option other than do as she wished or suffer the painful consequences. The girl radiated confidence and supreme authority over her charges so that neither of us spoke for a while. I don’t know about Penny, but I suspected she found the sight as enthralling as I did.

After the whip had cracked seven or eight times, Penny broke the silence. “Your Beauty seems to be learning or have the wit to know what she’s about. Clumsy, but she’s trying to please the eye, unlike the others who don’t seem to have a clue. I’m a shade disappointed in my Goofy; I’d have expected a better effort from him. He ought to know what’s required of him by now! More than a little disappointed. I know I haven’t had him all that long, but we’ve covered the basics often enough, yet look at the slovenly brute slouching and plodding along like that! I think a little private chat or something later is merited!”

I nodded in agreement. Her tone expressed far more than disappointment, as did the expression on her face that didn’t bode well for the beast later, and I doubted it would involve much chatter. Once again, I recalled what she’d said previously about a steel-cored whip. An image of the various elegant high-stepping ponies I’d seen at Mandy’s estate came to mind whereas, apart from my Beauty...! Hell, even those giant brutes Samson and Hercules looked more graceful when they were trotting along pulling Sally’s carriage than the other three sullen animals on the walker did.

The four animals continued their endless circular journey to nowhere under that threatening whip. For the first time, I experienced a slightly different sensation of pride as I watched my Beauty high stepping, head up, back straight or as straight as that arm binder permitted. By no means a filly at the height of visual perfection but pleasing nevertheless and a vastly contrasting sight to the other three lumbering animals she shared the walker with.

Mandy had talked a few times about that feeling of pride, of immense personal satisfaction when one of the racing or dressage ponies she’d trained performed well or even won an event, and for the first time, I experienced that same high she had referred to. A kind of extra, an additional feeling of fulfilment that both added to and exceeded that usual glow of pleasure ownership of such a splendid creature always gave me.

I beamed across at Penny and said, “Thank you”, stretching my hand and pulling the plate of biscuits back in front of her, somewhat to her surprise. She looked at me for a second, then at the biscuits, and laughed.

“Well, she is looking good. Please don’t take this the wrong way, I’m sure I’m not the first to say it, but that’s a very valuable filly you have captured for yourself. She’d fetch an excellent price at auction or privately were you so inclined to sell her” She cast a speculative look at me. “You’re not; I take it?”

I grinned and shook my head, noting that she wasn’t disappointed. “Beauty and I have just started our long journey together”, I laughed. “One of us might like to get off at the next stop, but I have no such desire!”

Penny laughed, eyed the plate before her, and firmly pushed it away. “No return ticket either once they start the journey, of course, and unfortunately for them, it is always an express one, no stopping en route!”

“What about the terminus,” I asked, perhaps somewhat foolishly without thinking. However, that’s not to say a particular morbid aspect of two-legged pony ownership hadn’t occasionally reared its ugly head in my mind.

Penny picked up her mug, and her vivid green eyes looked at me intently over the top of it, all trace of humour gone. “You know the answer to that as well as me. There are no return tickets in this business. When did you last read a ‘shock, horror’ article in the Sunday popular papers about a captive pony telling its terrible story? That’s the sort of sensational crap they love to publish but have never been given a chance.” She pursed her lips, gave me a speculative look, and shook her head. “Mandy has a friend, well, perhaps not exactly a friend, a contact who runs...” she paused, thinking hard before continuing. “Well, let us call it a sort of retirement sanctuary for older and unwanted animals” She took a sip from her mug and wasn’t inclined to say any more.

“So tell me about Sherlock Holmes then?” I asked, changing the subject. “What was that about? That and the Atlantic Ocean bit,” I prompted, for clearly, she’d lost her own thread.

“What about him, Sherlock and what’sis name? I mean,” Suzy joined us carelessly, tossing her whip down on the table. I noticed she didn’t bother sitting conventionally but parked her cute little butt on the end of Penny's bench.

“Dr What his name? That’s a terrible joke, I shot back at her. It doesn’t remotely sound correct, doesn’t even rhyme and that coffee’s probably stone cold by now. You need to make another or stick that one in the microwave!”

Suzy pulled a face and then shrugged. “It’s brown, wet and warm, which is good enough for me. I’m not that fussy, especially as you only serve cheap instant! What have I missed while I was working?” she put a lot of emphasis on that last word I noted.

I glanced at the walker, where the four animals were moving faster, not quite a trot but faster than a walk. I'd noted that Suzy had put the remote down alongside the whip more carefully than she had the whip and made a mental note to ask if it had a problem.

“I’ll give them half an hour,” the girl said, then up it a bit. “They can enjoy a nice little trot for another half hour or so, and maybe we’ll all finish with a canter, work up a bit of a sweat, and then I’ll use that hose again. ” she tapped her whip with one finger along with a bit of encouragement beforehand as needed.

“We’ll finish?” I queried.

“Figure of speech, so what about Mr Holmes then, what’s that about? Some big secret between you two?” Suzy asked, helping herself to that same thick chocolate biscuit that had tempted Penny. The latter instinctively made a preventative movement and then thought better of it.

“Mitthhed”, Suzy chortled through a mouthful of biscuit.

“Greedy little slut”, Penny countered. “Now, if you are that curious, I’d just made a remark referring to something in one of the books.”

“One of the earlier Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Holmes stories, if memory serves me right”, Suzy said after swallowing. “Relatively early on in their relationship, when Sherlock is explaining the process of deduction to Dr Watson and infers that one can deduce the existence of the Atlantic Ocean from a single drop of water. I assume that was what you were referring to?”

Penny gave the girl a sweet smile. “Oh, very impressive young madam. I see it’s not just cheap romance novels and comic books you read in bed!”

“Makes a change from explaining simple technical instruction sheets to those with less….less intellectual ability”, Suzy shot back and returned an equally sweet smile. “I suppose I could restrict my literary interests to looking at glossy pictures in fashion and beauty magazines like someone I know. Personally, I prefer to leave that sort of thing to dental waiting rooms!”

“Fifteen-thirty, your serve” I grinned at Penny, who promptly pulled a face at me, then laughed, making a rude gesture towards Suzy while disengaging herself from the picnic table with that same graceful, elegant flowing motion.

“Re my earlier remark, I just meant that all those millions and billions of people meant there would always be a supply of suitable ponies for people like us to cut from the wild with care” She pulled a face and then smiled. “At least I think that was my point, whatever”. She shrugged, picked up her coffee mug and Suzy’s discarded whip, and strolled across to watch the walker and the four unwilling animals tethered beneath its rotating arms.

“She loves me, really”, Suzy chuckled. “She’s even offered me a job at her place a couple of times but keep that to yourself.” She put a finger to her pink lips. “Mandy doesn’t know, so please don’t tell Sally. As you know, your diminutive lover is close to Bob and Mandy, and she can be….”

I laughed as she trailed off, looking for the appropriate word or phrase. “Gushy!” I offered, and Suzy nodded appreciatively.

“Yeah, that’s appropriate. Never tell her a secret, well,” she waved her arm towards the stable and pony walker. “I mean a normal secret, leaving all this stuff aside. Sally doesn’t always think about what she’s saying, especially when excited about something. It’s nothing malicious; she’s normally quite shy because, well, you know all about her background and problems. It’s just the way she is when she’s feeling confident with someone”.

I nodded and turned to look towards Penny. ‘Leaving all this stuff aside’, what a simple way of describing my exciting new lifestyle and that of those unfortunate creatures. I watched the sexy model draw back her arm and expertly send the lash forward to bite into Goofy’s rump. Even through his bit, the sound of his anguish reached my ears.

“Will you take up her offer, I mean?” I asked, my eyes on Penny.

“Mmmm, I don’t know. It’s been a while since she last mentioned it. I’ll see if she says anything before she goes home.” Suzy made an odd sound, something part sigh and part laugh. “Honestly, I hadn’t given it that much thought, not recently anyway. I know she wants to spend more time at home with the twins, so she cut down on her modelling commitments and had plans to expand her stable. So maybe I will chat with her to see how that’s all shaping up. Stallions and colts are more her thing, and I’m leaning that way more and more. Pony, wise, I mean”. She clarified with a giggle.

I nodded, watching as Penny casually ran the whip through her hands, preparatory to using it again and did so, repeatedly every third time her helpless stallion passed by. I wondered if that was instead of the ‘later’ and that little chat with him she’d promised herself. No, she was being far too casual, and I hadn’t heard her say anything to him.

“Plus, she’s kinda super sexy, isn’t she,” Suzy said from behind me. ” I mean, so is Mandy, but not quite so young plus, I wouldn’t be getting grabbed by big Sarah every time she felt randy either, would I?” the girl finished thoughtfully.

I glanced around, but Suzy had another chocolate biscuit in her hand and seemed to be addressing it rather than me, her mind elsewhere. I smiled indulgently and turned back as Penny’s whip cracked upon pony flesh again. No, I decided that even though Goofy was obviously suffering, those were no more than casual additions simply because his owner was standing there with a whip in her hand. I made a mental note to accompany my glamorous guest when she delivered those ‘laters’. I had a feeling watching her when she was a touch miffed about something would be educational for both Goofy and myself, albeit in very different ways!