Pony Life

Chapter 2

“Expensive, but then stuff from there always is”, Suzy muttered. “I mean the real top-end heavy stuff, not intended for play use. Not that bedroom and BDSM club crap they sell!”.

I couldn’t help grinning at how she derisively spat out the word ‘play’ as if she found it insulting. But then, there was nothing ‘playful’ in her version of ponyplay, was there? We’d only been back home, what? Not much more than a day, and her new ponyboy, Candi—jeez, what a name for the young Aussie hunk! Anyway, he’d certainly not been subjected to any erotic and light-hearted ‘bedroom play’ at her less than tender hands, had he!

I stifled a chuckle at that thought. Suzy was obsessed with her hands and had a row of different hand creams lined up along the window ledge behind the kitchen sink. One for each day of the week! Penny had commented caustically when she stayed, which reminded me that I’d yet to call her back. This collection, despite her being the only one who washed up wearing rubber gloves and regularly predicted Cassandra's style, that our hands would suffer one day from our laxity. My amusement, however, stemmed from the word ‘tender’. The girl's hands might be soft, but her heart certainly wasn’t, especially when it came to training new ponies. The only tender thing in the relationship between the young girl and her new Aussie ponyboy was his well-tenderised rear!

It was mid-morning coffee time, and the three of us were crowded around my wide-screen PC monitor, which served my oversized antique technology, as Suzy deemed my desktop PC, since I still didn’t have a laptop. Little Miss IT, of course, had one or three, plus the latest iPad and another tablet, and, lord knows, what else. Anyway, my PC wasn’t even four years old, so that wasn’t antique in my eyes, nor even old!

“Even the crappy stuff Mandy’s company sells is expensive”, Sally observed in defence of my elegant friend. “Expensive, I mean, compared to the stuff you can get on Amazon and FleaBay, and that is crap. At least Mandy’s low-end stuff is good quality, not Chinese sweatshop rubbish that wouldn’t secure a sick puppy for very long!”.

“Low-end crap!” I laughed.

“You know very well what I mean”, Sally glared at me.

I knew that look, so I promptly changed the subject. “That’s the one I bought for Beauty,” I said, tapping one of the saddles displayed on the screen. I opted for the standard black one, but they can be made to order in a range of colours. You pay extra, but if you have one made to measure and can afford that, why not? I only went for black because I couldn’t make my mind up about another colour”.

 “I know. It's the same with all of their top-end bondage and harness tack and stuff,” Suzy replied. But it does the job it’s designed to do, and having one of the beasts get loose… well, talk about a potential mega disaster under the wrong circumstances!” She pulled a face. It’s a good job…”

My phone rang at that point, cutting her off mid-sentence as I responded to a familiar, cultured and sexy female voice. “Hi….yes…yes, I got it. My apologies, it slipped my mind to call you……Sure, no problem. Yes, it's perfectly fine; it's insured for other drivers. Suzy uses it quite often. Yes,  the brats ’ still here….okay…bye,”

My part in the conversation had been relatively brief and to the point, and I turned back to Suzy. “Good job, what?” She shook her head and shrugged, indicating that whatever she’d meant to say now escaped her.

“That was the uber-glamorous Penny,” I told them. “She’s coming to stay with us again. She’s got a modelling job in Norwich for a few days, so rather than stay in a city hotel with the other girls and crew, she’s invited herself here and is bringing her camper van again, along with a couple of occupants to amuse her. She’s going to borrow my car on shoot days."

“What occupants?” Sally asked quickly. “We don’t have any vacant stalls now!”

I shrugged “ She didn’t say, I…hey!” I tried to snatch my phone back as Suzy grabbed it off the desk.

Keep your hair on. I just want to borrow it for a second to call her back; I don’t think I have her number in mine. Saddles, and I’ll tell her the stables are full while I'm at it! What’s your unlock code? Oh, never mind, I remember.

I stared at her. “Saddles! What do you mean? Oh yes, I get it!” I exclaimed, nodding as understanding replaced astonishment. Suzy had decided that Candi was a sizeable, strong young colt, so she’d also make him an occasional riding pony. We’d spent the first part of the morning taking various measurements from him and Beanpole and recording them to ensure the best fit, and we were now at the ordering stage online via my ‘antique’ hardware!

That German company Mandy was involved with produced excellent products. Still, they were not magicians, and it would take some time for them to manufacture, if that’s the right word, the two bespoke saddles—especially as Suzy wanted hers in shocking pink. “Why change from what I’m used to? I inherited Candyfloss in pink, and Helga delivered my boy in the same colour, so why change it? Maybe I’ll give him a Mohican in pink?” she mused.

One of Penny’s specialities was training two-legged riding ponies, and her tack room had what mine and Mandy’s lacked. She’d brought several saddles with her when she’d visited previously, and I’d learned how to saddle and ride Beauty under her tutelage. I’d purchased a bespoke saddle for her since then, and… ”Hey, remind her that she needs to collect the one she lent me last time. I don’t need it any more, and she forgot to take it back with her.”

Suzy nodded and waved a hand in acknowledgement from the doorway. The high-tech security equipment Tony’s company had installed all worked a treat, as did the Internet; however, the cell phone signal strength varied considerably for some reason. Suzy, being something of a tech nerd, habitually went into the farmyard if she wanted to make a call during the day to get an extra half an indicator bar or whatever on her phone, as if it mattered. Besides, she ought to know my code since she was the one who’d set up my new cell phone.

Like every other member of my sex, I customarily carried it around in a hip pocket, and the damn thing had decided to jump out while I was delivering an energetic whipping to Goldie. It survived both fall and landing, but not my boot heel when I automatically stepped backwards and scrunched its screen. When surveying the damaged screen, Suzy said she could get it repaired, and then, after examining it further, asked me how long I’d had it. I told her and….well, long story short, I bought a brand new one to keep the peace. The same brand, but the latest model. After setting it up, she casually tossed my old one into the kitchen waste bin.

I was momentarily horrified; it was like saying goodbye to an old, trusted friend, but I kept quiet. I knew it had no value, and if I did say anything, I could imagine the sort of teasing comment I’d get back. Doubtlessly something along the lines of ‘Oh dear, did I want her to organise a funeral for it and bury it in the veg patch with full honours, or something similar. Sarky little bitch!

 “All settled,” she said when she came back in and returned my ‘new and overly expensive’ phone. I told her his size, and she will bring a couple of saddles with her. I'd forgotten about the one she left, so we can also try that one for size and fit before she comes. I want one thing clear, though,” she pointed a finger at the monitor. “I don’t want any financial favours; you know what Mandy’s like, generous to a fault, and Bob’s already splashed out on Candi, and I can never repay them for that. I’m buying the saddle myself, no tattel tales, so no freebies or silly staff discounts, right?

“Right,” I laughed. I could understand how she felt. Hell, my entire operation was a testament to my friend Mandy’s interest and generosity, not to mention the additional bonus of a certain ex-Russian government official, stroke mafia boss, now occupying one of my stalls. “You can get it sent to the village post office. They’re used to receiving those parcels from Germany for me, and I doubt that Mandy examines every invoice personally, although…..”

“Although what?”

“Nothing,” I shook my head and grinned at her. “I’d suddenly remembered that that’s precisely what had happened not long after I’d got Beauty and Fluffy. Mandy had turned up that evening quite unexpectedly at my stable door because of my order from the company she part-owns. Then again, I’d ordered Beauty's saddle and other pony gear since then, and she hadn’t commented on it or anything, had she? Had I benefited from one of those chance flukes, one of those unexpected, random life-changing events? My new friend being in the right place at the right time to notice something that sparked her curiosity.

“Did you tell her about the stable?” Sally asked collecting our empty coffee mugs.

Suzy nodded. “Yeah, she’d already heard about Melons from Mandy, probably, why she wants to come. Candi and Beanpole as well, and….” Suzy paused and looked quizzically at Sally, who was busy at the sink rinsing crockery. I thought she was going to say something about gloves or hands again, but she didn’t. “Are you really going to stick with that name? Penny seemed to find it highly amusing!”

“Maybe, maybe not”, Sally shrugged. “I didn’t care for Flach, not one bit, so it will do for now, and she is a bit stick-like, long and thin. What did she say about the stable being full?”

Suzy yawned and stood up from the table, automatically picking up her riding crop and tucking it into her belt, pressing it into place with one small hand. It was as much a part of her daily outfit as the belt itself. I even had to point it out to her the other week when she borrowed my car to visit the big supermarket. It wasn’t illegal, I presumed, to do so, but I doubted they received many customers thus equipped through the automatic doors!

“She thought that would be the case,” Suzy replied, slipping her phone into a hip pocket, although God knows how she managed it in those second-skin jeans. No chance of hers jumping out! She’d used it earlier to note down the various measurements she was taking off Candi. “She’s going to bring her dogs over instead. Give them a change of scene, and they’ll stay in the camper van with her. Where did you put that saddle she left? I’d forgotten about it. I’ll give it a try for size on Candi, and if Penny brings a couple more, I can be pretty sure before emptying my piggy bank,” she nodded at the monitor screen. I’m happy to pay my way, but those things are horribly expensive,” she waved the cell phone. “What's that old saying, measure thrice and cut once, or something similar, my grandad used to say.

“It helps avoid mistakes,” I agreed, joining her. I’ll give you a hand, and we can also try the one I bought for Beauty while we're at it. We might get a reasonable fit. She’s pretty broad-shouldered but not as much as he is. He must have been a competitive swimmer or similar back in the wild”.

“All the better for me, though”, Suzy laughed cheekily, wriggling her bottom towards me. “More for me to perch my cute butt on!”

***** 

I couldn’t vouch for her bottom, happily perched as she was high atop the young colt shoulders but the rest of her looked pretty damn cute. So did….well, perhaps, cute would be the wrong term, but her mount, Candi, looked equally impressive in a captive riding pony way. However, unlike his owner, his expression, such as could be seen behind his bridle, was about as far from being happy as you could get. Recalling a geographical program I’d watched the previous evening, his body language and demeanour were Equatorial, burning hot, compared to the cheerful Arctic cool of the young woman seated high on his back and shoulders—chalk and cheese, to use the standard old cliché.

The girl had excused herself at one point and reemerged from the house some ten minutes later, having shed her usual working garb of jeans, trainers, and abbreviated top for the full-on pony club or equestrian show ring riding outfit. Black peaked hard hat, red jacket, pristine white blouse and cravat, tight beige riding breeches and gleaming black boots. Her blonde hair was in a neat bun behind her hat rather than the usual ponytail or loose cascade.

Sally took one look and immediately chuckled, but I chose a different approach. I thought she looked lovely—very stylish and sweet, very chic. I complimented her on the outfit while dismissively waving a hand in Sally's direction. She responded with a charming smile, while Sally’s mirth was met with a single raised finger!

“Very apt. Where did you get the outfit?” I asked, thinking it a foolish question even as I asked. Then again, maybe not, given her usual skin-tight working outfits.

Suzy grinned at me and pirouetted around, looking pleased with herself. “Brought it with me, of course, silly! Packed on impulse. I haven’t worn it for ages, too much of a hassle, but I thought I’d give it an airing today. I mean it is, like a special day for Candi and me, isn’t it?” she laughed. “Kind of like a wedding, the joining of two people as one, so to speak, for a time.”

I glanced over at Candi, whose head was turned towards us as he absorbed every word, and I wondered what he was thinking. Bride or groom, I mused, then grinned to myself. Need I ask? Someone would lose their virginity today in the ‘saddle pony’ sense, and it wouldn’t be Suzy who was being ridden. The poor creature was hitched forlornly beside the mounting point and looking thoroughly dejected. Was he pondering how a holiday of a lifetime with his two younger sisters had turned into this nightmare? Miserable or not, if he didn’t straighten himself up pronto, his new young Mistress and owner would be adding to his discomfort if he thought he could slouch like that!

“That’s the one they bought you for that modelling job you did for Mandy’s website stuff the other year,” Sally noted. “I missed that when they were doing all the photoshoots. It was summer, and I was doing an extra reception shift at the medical centre to cover holidays and maternity leave, as I recall.”

Suzy nodded. “Yeah, they could hardly call the local model agency, not for some of the stuff they wanted to shoot” She paused and laughed. “Well, perhaps they could, but the girls might have become curious about the… their fellow models' willingness to participate! Not that they used much of what they shot in the end because of that. Very fussy about not showing too much of the ponies' faces, nothing identifiable. I think the original intention had been to have the ‘good stuff’ on an extra password-protected link, but I probably scuppered that. I pointed out to Mandy that the Internet is not that secure, and was it worth the risk? Besides, most of her ‘special’ customers only had to pop out to their own stables anyway to see the same in the flesh, so why bother with unnecessary pictures? It was an interesting experience, though. Something different, yes?”

That last query was directed at me. I tried to snap my fingers and failed, so I flapped my hand up and down instead. “That was you!” I exclaimed. “I saw those pictures on the Internet when I was looking for pony stuff. I stared at them for ages, thinking that there was a sense of realism about them, and I’ve had this nagging feeling that I knew you from somewhere or had seen you. I kept meaning to ask and then forgot about it.” I paused for a second, thoughtfully, before continuing with a question. “Not just you either?”

Suzy laughed. “Oh, very observant. Yes, several of us participated, including Sarah. Next time you're on that site, look for the big one in the mask. She was a bit self-conscious, so she’s the one playing what’s his name, Zorro, only with tits! You can even see Bob driving a ponyboy cart, back view only, that is, in a couple of shots. All the ponies, male and female, came from Mandy’s stable. It was a fun few days, at least for us, and I expect the ponies also enjoyed the break. No nasty marks to be on display,” she giggled and swished her crop up and down meaningfully.

I nodded. “Yeah, I kinda got the impression that some of those ‘bondage models’ weren’t exactly what they seemed… I paused then chuckled. “Or rather, perhaps they were exactly what they seemed! Was there ever any comeback on that? I mean, it’s out there for the whole world to see, after all!”

Suzy shrugged and looked at Sally, who also shook her head and said, “Not that I’ve ever heard. Hiding her many sins in plain sight, Mandy called it. But come on. Forget little Miss Red Riding Coat here and give me a hand to harness Medusa to a cart.”

We’d spent the latter part of the morning trying the two saddles on Candi and Beanpole, and they hadn’t liked the idea one bit. You didn’t need to be an Einstein to work out what the things were for and on whom they would be used, and more importantly, for what purpose. You’d have to have been a pretty dim-witted individual not to have realised what we intended, and neither animal was that stupid! Surprisingly, Beanpole had put up the most fuss and received several flurries of swift crop strokes for her truculence from the three of us until Sally objected.

Hey, you two. It’s my bloody pony, remember, so back off, will you! Half the time, she’s not even feeling it because we're banging each other's bloody sticks, so stop it!

“Sticks!” Suzy chuckled, raising her pliant riding crop. “Sticks!”

“You clowns know very well what I mean!” Sally retorted. “Now you two concentrate on getting that saddle properly fitted and secured, and I’ll deal with any further trouble from this feisty animal.” She stood on tiptoes, and stretching her left arm out, managed to yank on Beanpole's short reins, pulling the pony’s head down slightly while simultaneously tapping the tip of her long crop on the animal's nose.

“Quit it you stupid creature or I’ll roast your fucking hide again! If you think that little taster I gave you yesterday was bad, then think again dumbo. “You belong to me now, not the slack happy fucker who sold you because you were useless! Your days of standing around doing sweet fuck all except admire your stable walls are over now. Remember, I don’t give a shit about how much it hurts and it will bloody hurt, that I promise!”

Well, that settled that question, I thought, watching Beanpole’s face closely. Yes, she had a good understanding of English. I read that in her eyes and body language as she froze for a moment and then seemed to relax, or maybe sag helplessly would be a better way to describe it, showing apparent resignation and outright fear. Sally might be small, but she terrified every pony she handled. I’d seen that in Goldie's eyes. He looked at me mainly with hatred and contempt, but with Sally, it was pure fear and terror. There was a noticeable difference. The other feelings were present, but took a back seat to his dread of the tiny woman.

The latter I could easily understand, recalling the events of the previous day. “A screaming day!” as Suzy callously and somewhat offhandedly described our afternoon's activities, only we weren’t the ones doing the screaming. Once again, I’d been grateful that my nearest neighbours were several miles away! There was always the possibility of a walker or cyclist passing by, but I couldn't do much about it.

Fortunately, I had all that high-tech security equipment installed, which, according to young Suzy, would have sent those responsible for maintaining the integrity of the infamous Berlin Wall into raptures had they had access to the same kit in its heyday. Anyway, most of the local tourist attractions were some distance away in another direction. Plus, the minor road running past my tiny chunk of the quiet, rural English countryside would probably be the third or fourth choice for leisurely recreational travel towards those delights.

Irritation or perhaps exasperation best summed up our mood when we gathered for lunch the previous day after our delayed feeding session. I don’t know about the others, but I had a … mmm, how to describe it? A feeling that perhaps things were slipping backwards a little. I don’t know, it was hard to explain but I got the impression that our ‘older’ animals were kind of taking the piss, not being quite as respectful and obedient as they should have been.

Maybe with just Sally looking after them, they’d thought it some holiday, which, knowing Sally, I thought was surprising, especially Goldie, given how she’d thrashed and punished him. Nevertheless, there seemed to be a subtle difference in their behaviour, nor did I appear to be the only one to perceive such a collective sullen mood once I’d mentioned it.

“I mean it's not as though they can talk to each other”, Suzy mused when we were spooning our lunch of tomato soup, tinned rather than homemade and some of those semi-cooked, vacuum-packed bread rolls you can buy that taste almost like fresh bread after ten minutes in the oven.

I nodded. “Plus, three of them are new arrivals, so it’s not as if they’ve been together for years or even months”, I noted. “I’ve heard of jungle drums in prisons, messages being sent cell to cell via the heating pipes and similar, but that hardly applies here. Still, it’s weird that they are all acting up similarly”.

“Well, don’t look at me!” Sally exclaimed. “I’ve done nothing unusual while you were away, and besides, you were only gone for a couple of days.”

“Probably a coincidence”, Suzy decided as she tilted her bowl and chased up that final spoonful of artificially colour-enhanced orangy liquid. “Remember what I’ve said in the past about maintaining daily routines. These may be highly intelligent and potentially dangerous animals, but their lives are deadly dull, dull, dull..…” She paused and chuckled wickedly, “Well, most of the time anyway, and they certainly don’t appreciate those times when we’re making their lives considerably less dull!”

Sally and I grinned at that for we both knew exactly what she meant. Those times would be when we were amusing ourselves at their expense, and even if we weren’t, the fact that we were around meant they couldn't relax. They were always on tenterhooks, apprehensive because they had no way of knowing what we intended, and of course, they couldn’t exactly excuse themselves and go elsewhere, could they?

“We can expect the three new ones to be perhaps a little unsettled and difficult, especially Melons,” Suzy continued. “I’ve seen it before with new arrivals,  even with well-trained long-term ponies.”

“First day on the job, syndone”, I offered, “or something akin to that”.

Exactly, “Suzy beamed at me. They’re disconcerted. Everything is new and different. Well, maybe not completely different, but a new kind of new, to two of them, from what they’ve been familiar with, and given the lives they lead, even a small change is probably unsettling. Then there's Melons, to whom everything is very new and almost certainly terrifying!

“And it’s catching”, Sally joined in.

Suzy and I stared at her for a second, and then we simultaneously nodded, understanding her meaning. My spoon had paused halfway between bowl and mouth as I took in what she meant. Now that was an interesting line of speculation.

“Mmmm”, Suzy agreed. “Interesting, but I was thinking more along the lines of routine. Big Sarah was constantly stressing about that when I started, how routine was essential to the animals. Routine comforts them and doesn’t differ significantly between domestic pets, such as cats and dogs, or our more intelligent beasts. Routine is what they quickly become accustomed to, and they become very unsettled when it changes. That makes our lives a little easier, but I like what you’re getting at. Maybe it does happen in stables like Mandy's, but we don’t notice because there are far more animals there than we have here”

“A far more compact environment here “, I mused. “That would help. Very primal, instinctive communication that was what you were eluding to, am I correct, Love?”

Sally smiled. “Spot on. Perhaps our lovely animals are a little more animalistic than we imagined, as you say, primal. We bring in three new and highly unsettled ponies, and the existing livestock somehow sense that and react accordingly. They might not be, no, probably aren’t even aware of it, but they also become unsettled and troublesome.”

“Five to Midnight,” Suzy announced and promptly burst out laughing at the puzzled expressions on our faces, then immediately apologised. “Sorry, it just slipped out. I remember years ago watching one of those, you know, Attenborough-style documentaries on TV. It had to do with dinosaurs, evolution, the primordial soup, they called it that, supposedly started everything off. They likened it to a twenty-four-hour clock, and according to the programme, we humans first appeared at five minutes to midnight, twenty-three hours and fifty-five minutes after life began. Hardly surprising then that they retain such instincts given we’re probably no more than about thirty seconds into the next day on that evolutionary scale!”

“Well, it’s all fascinating, if also very speculative," Sally announced, slipping down from the elevated chair she always used. We strictly avoided using the term ‘high chair,’ of course not wanting to demean her stature, although it was difficult to shake that ‘baby high chair’ image from my mind sometimes when I glanced at her sitting there with her sexy little legs so far off the floor.

She yawned and looked surprised that she’d done so, then smiled up at me. “Screw the washing up. Just put the bowls and dirty soup pan in the sink and leave them until later with the supper stuff, saving on water. I don’t know about you ladies, but my primordial or primitive instincts are all fired up, and I’m in the mood for tenderising and cooking some troublesome meat — raw red rump meat. Let's go and teach our animals, old and new, to keep their damn instincts to themselves. What say you?" She winked at the two of us and picked up the short, coiled whip she’d carried in with her.