Pony Life

Chapter 8

“You realise they’ll kick me off the shoot if I can’t get into the outfits!” Penny complained as she licked tomato ketchup residue off her thumb. “My agent would kill me if she saw me eating bacon sandwiches. What next, fish and chips for supper, I expect!” She paused and then asked thoughtfully. “I assume that little shop in the village is still open, they are very good from there as I recall.

“Yup, still open most nights plus Saturday lunchtime and still yummy”, Suzy confirmed. “I don’t know how they make their batter or what oil they use, but their fish and chips are delicious”, she cocked an eye speculatively in Penny’s direction. “They do a smaller, cheaper pensioners portion for oldies…or

Penny gave her thumb one last lick and interrupted, “And presumably children’s portions for irritating little brats, likewise! What a mess,” she muttered, scraping large dollops of tomato ketchup off the upturned slice of bread and bacon, salvaging her sandwich after the sauce bottle had decided to shed its plastic top along with a goodly portion of its contents when she’d squeezed a tad too hard.

I glanced at young Suzy, expecting a sarcastic retort, but for once the girl held her tongue. Instead, she looked from me to Penny and back again. “You two seemed deep in conversation just now. I was waving like mad and then had to shout to get your attention.”

“Penny was telling me about those two, Champ and Caesar.” I glanced over to the far side of the big farmhouse kitchen, where one, two, three and a fourth dog were lined up along one wall. Two real canines and two wannabes… no, strike that. Two who very much didn’t want to be doggies but had no choice. My little Fluffy and Penny’s big boy, Caesar. My pair were over to the left in their respective baskets, Raven growling quietly over one of his toys and occasionally glancing warily at the two new interlopers, as though still unsure how to receive them. Fluffy, cowering quietly in the big basket we’d provided her, was also watching the two new arrivals with her usual sad, hopeless-looking eyes.

I made a mental note as I looked at the poor creature. I, or we, the three of us, tended to take her for granted, didn’t we? Indeed, half the time I forgot she was human, well, forgot! Familiarity breeds contempt, that sort of thing. She’d been encased in that puppy suit, or its latest version, ever since I’d acquired the poor little bitch, hadn’t she? The only time it came off was when I replaced it, and I reminded myself that this was only the second one and would probably need replacing in another month or so. Daily wear rather than tear, as the material was pretty robust, and it wasn’t as if she spent much time outside like young Raven. Still waddling around on knees and elbows, and continuous wear took its toll, as did the fortnightly bath and scrub down.

I didn’t differentiate between my two ‘pets’ when bath time came around. Raven went in first, partly because he always put up more of a fight, surrendering only when he sat in my bath, looking miserable, whining and howling as we soaped and rinsed him. Unlike Fluffy, he never went upstairs except for the enforced trip to the bathroom, so he knew what was coming as we dragged him towards the stairs. Fluffy was the opposite, probably spending half her life upstairs, either in the main bedroom with Sally and me or keeping Suzy entertained in the guest room.

How long had it been? I did a quick mental calculation and was surprised by the answer. In one sense, it seemed like only yesterday that I’d put that incredibly foolish but successful plan into action and acquired myself a for-real, live-and-kicking ponygirl, and she still did kick given half a chance. Fluffy had been the unexpected bonus, two for the price of one. While I’d been tempted to add her to the stable, my own sexual needs had decided that having a house pet with a readily available tongue conveniently to hand would be far more useful, not to say entertaining! A decision I’d not had cause to regret, having spent a delightful time in the stable training Beauty. I was invariably in need of some soothing, and having reached a sadistic high, a submissive, trained tongue to provide such relief was infinitely better than my old plastic vibrator.

Fluffy went straight into the bathwater after we’d hauled Raven out. Well, why not? I’d paid a lot for him, whereas Fluffy was a mere bonus, and besides, it amused us to delegate her thus and condemn the little bitch to being bathed in Raven’s dirty water. Not that he was that dirty unless he’d been rolling in the mud, in which case I’d have turned the yard hose on him before letting him in the house. Fluffy made no fuss at all as we sponged her down, and we always took longer with her than with Raven, simply because it was more fun and she felt so good in that wet doggy suit. Poor thing must have been covered in unseen bruises each bath time from our probing and pinching fingers, but it was such a delicious sensation…for us, anyway!

Fluffy had been Beauty’s smaller friend, and her personality was very much the opposite. Beauty could still be a handful when the mood took her, which happened more often than I liked. I mean, yes, on the one hand, I wanted a pony with spirit, one that still had fire in her belly, so to speak. But on the other hand, not too hot a fire, too often, because I felt that… what would be a suitable word? Perhaps demeaned me, belittled my training abilities, such as they were in the eyes of my companions!

Fluffy, on the other hand, was ultra docile. She’d had her moments, of course, but a taste of the ‘stick’ soon put an end to any silliness. Indeed, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had to give the little bitch a severe thrashing. A snap of the fingers, followed by a pointing finger, be it towards her food bowl or a horny, damp pussy, and she obeyed instantly, her cute little tongue at work. I’ll even admit to being somewhat fond of the little puppy in a pet sort of way, which was decidedly different from how I viewed and felt about the occupants of my stable.

I glanced along the row of ‘doggies’ again and wondered if Penny would feel the same way about her Caesar in time, and decided the answer would be a firm no. I mean, she’d had no qualms about selling off his predecessor, had she? And while she was a wonderful, charming, warm, funny person in herself, none of that seemed to extend towards her livestock, chalk and cheese in that respect. My eyes switched to the end pair, Champ and Ceasar. My two pups were quiet and relatively relaxed, whereas Champ was sitting on his haunches, looking as though he were about to hurl himself into energetic action at any moment. He seemed undecided, his big head swivelling back and forth between the quietly growling Raven and his human kennel mate…and bitch as Penny put it!

That one, Caesar, was at the far end of the line-up, farthest from me, and seemed to be trying to merge himself into the corner where two walls joined. Unfortunately, he was a big brute, and trying to look inconspicuous was not going to work. My kitchen, by normal house standards, was big, virtually the entire downstairs area of the old farmhouse, but even so… then Penny’s voice caught my attention.

“…read a chapter in my book, then dropped off till they started. I suppose I should have separated the buggers before settling down, because every time I woke up, it was because of the racket Caesar was making when Champ mounted him again. The bloody dog’s insatiable. He’d had him for a long session before I turned the light off, which ought to have tired him out, but no, evidently not. I expect Caesar also got zero sleep, but…” she shrugged her shoulders indifferently. “He’s Champ’s bitch, so who am I to interfere? Besides, I was all warm and cosy and very disinclined to get out of bed, besides…” she chuckled. “Trying to pull big boy here off his bitch when he’s in that sort of a mood is…”

“Futile,” I offered, eyeing the monster-sized dog as her words sank in.

“Kind of!” Penny giggled. “Like trying to drag a bus backwards. A double-decker one! It’s no better afterwards either, because his knot is so large and takes an age to subside. It’s like they were conjoined twins! Imagine that, and how handicapping it must be. Half the time, once hubby has shed his load, and I’ve climaxed, I get the sudden urge to head for the bathroom to pee. How could I manage that if hubby was still up my pussy for half an hour or whatever afterwards!”

Hell, I thought, looking over at the dog that wasn’t. If I thought Fluffy’s life was pretty bad, that poor mutt’s life had only just begun and was already far worse! Almost unimaginably worse! His new role, along with Penny, to contend with was bad enough, but then throw in Champ, sheesh!

“Anyway, enough of this.” Penny drained her coffee mug, then rose from her seat and headed over to her reticent and suddenly fearful pup in the corner. “C’mon, you,” Penny poked him lightly in the ribs with the toe of her boot, then hauled on his leash she’d just clipped on. “You had your chance to piddle and wasted it. Back to the caravan you go.” She turned to me. “How’s about you show me Melons? She’s partly why I invited myself. Melons, jeez, like I said last night, what a bloody silly name!”

“Work in progress,” I laughed, also rising. “Same as she is. Besides, that was Mandy, not me. Why didn’t you remove his tail so he could… well, you know?”

“Don’t be bashful," Penny chuckled. “If you mean shit, then say it! No, I didn't — he wasn’t fully house-trained when I got him, but that was the main attraction. I’m not some finicky Arab Princess, only interested in a polished end product and too lazy to get her hands dirty! Metaphorically speaking, that is. We’ve had our share of accidents. Back home, we usually take a nice little evening stroll so I can unwind a bit from the day's stress, and he goes with me. He’ll get his chance later, but he ought to have peed when he had the chance. If he does it in my van or in your farmyard near the buildings or the stable… well, he’ll regret it!” she finished ominously, shaking the leash.

“Well, there's always that huge stinging nettle patch down there where the track through the woods starts, by the… well, whatever that little building over there was!” I jested.

“Yes… there is,” Penny said thoughtfully, following my line of sight as if she had X-ray vision. While I might have been joking, her expression made it clear she wasn’t.

I stared down at the… thing, couldn’t quite see it as a dog on the end of her lead. Not yet anyway. But they were going to be here for a week, so that was plenty of time for me to become accustomed to it. I mean, as I said, I hardly saw Fluffy as the girl she’d once been. That suit and its successor, which I’d crammed her into, had become a permanent fixture. Maybe it was because she’d been living in the house 24/7 rather than in the stable.

Penny clicked her fingers towards Champ, and he bounded forward immediately and tried to leap up at her, his big tongue lolling out, only for her to push him away, “NO, no, NO! Behave, down boy, down! Remember where you are, NO!”

“Not you!” I yelped, for Raven had also risen and was about to follow his new friend. I jumped forward, grabbed his collar and hauled him back. “Basket, no, basket, now! No, you’ve been out, and you did do your business down in the woods, both, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Here,” Suzy joined me, a half-eaten Bacon sandwich in one hand. “I’ll hold him if he’s going to get Frisky.” She glanced at her watch. “Goodness, we’re a bit late on parade today, and we’ve no pony chow made up. I was going to knock some up yesterday afternoon, but you know how it is, one thing and another, with Penny arriving.”

“They won’t starve. Let's clear the decks, get washed up first, and then we’ll do it together”, Sally offered. You two go and play with Melons, and I’ll bring the breakfast bucket over when it's ready. Didn’t you say you wanted to do some IT tech things today?” she directed the question at Suzy, who nodded.

“Yeah, some stuff I want to do on my laptop, and I owe Big Sarah back at Mandy’s an email. She wanted some info on one of their programmes, plus there's a load of updates to download on the security tech server here. Well, not loads,” she amended. “But there are some new things I want to play around with…” She paused and looked thoughtfully out of the window towards the stable, then shrugged. “Nah, two’s company, three's a crowd. I can wait for my turn. Have fun,” she winked meaningfully at Penny and then snapped, “No, no Raven, no, what's wrong with you this morning?” She grabbed his collar.

Raven was still struggling to join us when I closed the Kitchen door on him. Champ had also become somewhat ‘frisky’, trying to jump at Penny and Caesar both. Instinctively, I grabbed his collar and hauled the eager dog backwards. He growled savagely, twisting his head around so fast, baring his teeth that I almost let go in alarm, but then he calmed down and started to behave. Or attempting to lick my face with that big slobbery tongue didn’t seem anything like as threatening.

“No, boy, no Champ, no…. behave, quiet, you bloody monster, NO!” Penny admonished. “The nice lady doesn’t need her face washed!”

“He’s excited again”, I said, digging my boot heels into the mud and hauling lightly on the oversized hound's collar. “Thanks,” I accepted the leash Penny handed me, taking several turns of the other end around my hand. I heard Suzy shouting something at Raven from behind the kitchen door. “Someone else getting overexcited too!”

“Which one?” Penny laughed cocking her head at the door. “My fault,” Penny admitted, leaning forward and lashing out twice, hard, with the doubled-over end of one long leash at Caesar's exposed rump. “Behave! Still early days,” she muttered, straightening and smiling apologetically at me. “It was probably the spray I use on him, still lingering, that your Raven suddenly got a whiff of. It does that, I’ve noted. Comes and goes, effect-wise. He’s not been neutered, has he?”

I shook my head. “No, he’s overdue, but somehow, I haven’t got around to having him done. He’s a clean dog, doesn’t spray or anything, and he’s never been smelly and never… well, yes,” I admitted, thinking about it. “He’s a bit of a furniture and leg humper, come to that. He seems to like Suzy’s leg best when he’s in that sort of a mood. She finds it funny, but maybe it is time to….”

“Why?” Penny interrupted as we headed over to her camper van. “My vet wanted me to have Champ neutered, but I told him no. I wanted him to breed.” She paused and giggled. “I just wasn’t very specific about how or with whom, eh, boy?” She giggled again and ruffled Caesar's mass of saggy, unkempt hair. The poor thing tried to back away, but she was having non of it and grabbed a handful, yanked him forward and then swatted him hard on the nose with two fingers.

A gesture I was very familiar with, as was my little Fluffy. Penny had done it automatically, just as I did, one pr two fingers, almost as much a gesture of endearment as punishment. It still hurts, though I assumed it would.

“What spray?” I asked her, recalling something she’d just said as she opened the door to her vehicle and led her dogs inside. “I didn’t smell anything unusual”.

“You there, go on. Move yourself into your doggie cage and be good. There's a camera up there, remember, and I’ll be watching on my phone. Misbehave, and I’ll let Champ loose on you, and we both know what he’ll do to his favourite bitch, so stay! Now you come here, yes, no, bed, go on, lie down, boy and I’ll tie you up here. No, maybe later again if you're good. No, don’t hump that. No, stop it. Save yourself for later! Now you’ve both got water and doggie bix. Mummy will come back and see you later, bye bye, boys”

Penny appeared in the doorway, dusting off her hands. “All settled for a couple of hours now, I hope. Talk about insatiable he’s… oh yes, you asked.” She disappeared, and a moment later came down the steps with an ordinary household plastic spray bottle in her hand, then tossed it to me. “Catch.”

I did, albeit at the second attempt after an initial fumble. Outwardly, no different from the sort many kitchen and bathroom cleaners are sold in, no doubt a standard design. One of those trigger bottles with a twist nozzle offering several settings: two off positions, a fine spray and a less fine one, or a direct squirt. It was white, opaque plastic, felt about half-full, with no label or visible markings.

“Very nice, I’m sure,” I told her, handing it back after a glance, but I’m none the wiser. “It seems to have lost its label, although I expect it still kills 99% of household germs, or whatever the advert says these days!”

“They don’t go in for labels, and it's not a cleaner, silly”, Penny laughed. “I get it from Dee Dee and Gale and, oh, that reminds me. I was talking about that time Mandy came over, when she came about a ponyboy for Suzy, you remember. How’s he doing, by the way? I gathered she bought him off that horrible German bitch. I forgot to ask last night”

I nodded and chuckled. “Well, I wouldn’t say he was very happy, not with Suzy as his new owner. Mind you, having met his last owner, he was very lucky Helga had no interest in colts or stallions. I doubt he appreciates it, but sadistic little Miss Suzy might be the better option. At least he’s still got his balls! Whereas with Helga?” I shrugged.

Penny nodded and tossed the spray bottle carelessly through the open doorway of her van, presumably to land on something soft. “Oh, the brats not that bad…well, maybe she is, but she’s not an out-and-out sadist, unlike some I know. The girls always been objective and never…” she gave a sort of shudder. “Well, let's keep it on a need-to-know basis. I know a few people, if I can even call them that, who belong more in the Middle Ages than the present century. I may not be nice, very un-nice quite frequently,” she jerked her head towards the open doorway behind her. “But there are limits that I would never go beyond, in terms of” she sighed, and her lovely face assumed a more disapproving expression for a moment, then she smiled again, and I realised once more why she was a top model.

The sun came out from behind a cloud, I thought, using the old cliché, but the change was so dramatic. I wondered whether she’d ever considered acting, as some models did. She had the looks, the presence, the vocal range and a full range of facial expressions; she’d have been pretty good. Then again, I always felt like the ugly duckling compared to my glamorous new friend. She was perfect in looks, natural grace and mannerisms. A potential Oscar winner in the making, no doubt, had she ventured in that direction!

“Of course, I wouldn’t count neutering or gelding them in with that”, she said so innocuously that I felt the cloud had popped out again to cover the sun and shivered slightly at how casual she could be. “As or if needed, of course”, she qualified, poking her dog that wasn’t with the toe of one boot.

“Of course,” I parroted, and she smiled that gorgeous Hollywood smile at me.

“Fuck juice! Her crude words immediately belied that impression. “That’s what Dee Dee and Gale call the stuff. Basic but descriptive, and you wouldn’t smell anything, it…well, not unless you were a randy male pup or similar. Animals generally have a far more advanced sense of smell than we do. Imagine having a dog's acute sense of smell and having to travel on the London tube on a hot summer's day! I’m sure half of them sitting there don’t wash or only bathe once a week, if that!

I didn’t need to imagine. I’d done that daily for several years, winter and summer, and you didn’t need ultra-sensitive nasal organs to wonder whether the capital suffered from a water shortage or merely a lack of baths and showers. Although, to be fair, it was primarily the lack of decent air conditioning on an ageing mass transit system that was the chief culprit.

I put that to one side and blinked at her, my mind switching back and forth between the glamour of Hollywood Boulevard, the London underground system and my slightly overgrown and muddy farmyard. “What?”

“The stuff in the spray bottle I just gave you. Fuck juice for doggies, or rather bitches. It’s a kind of powerful, what do you call them, phergnomes or something sounding like that!”

“Pheromones, you mean?” I corrected after a moment's thought. “I thought they were a bit of a myth so far as a sexual stimulant went”, then I laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

I smiled at her. “Just a recollection, a crazy one, Sally read some crap about female pheromones in a woman's mag and when we were feeling randy that night, insisted on sniffing me all over and me her to see if it made any difference!”

Penny’s lovely eyes widened with sudden interest. “And did it?”

“No idea”, I laughed again. “We were both pretty damn hot before we started all the sniffing, so we were soon kissing and licking. I doubt smell had anything to do with our… our subsequent lust!”

Penny closed the door to her camper and took her keys out of a pocket, then shrugged and thrust them away again, saying, “No need, they aren’t going to get loose, and no one’s likely to come nosing around”.

“Not without setting off a zillion alarms I assured her. All that kit Mandys' guy Tony installed is working fine, and Suzy’s added a few tweaks of her own. She’ll be in her element right about now. Keyboard or whip, Tech stuff or suffering ponies make for one happy brat as you call her”.

Penny nodded and chuckled. “I was feeling tired last night, but maybe tonight I’ll borrow sexy little Miss IT and do some tweaking and sniffing of my own! Hey, maybe you should try squirting a bit of that stuff on yourself tonight and see if it has any effect on Sally.”

“Eh!” I grunted, giving her a decidedly penetrating look which missed because she’d momentarily turned her head back towards her camper van.

“That Fuck Juice. They import it from somewhere in China, discreetly, of course, as it’s banned there, and if that’s the case there, heaven knows how they’d deal with it over here. Make possession a bloody hanging offence or something!”

“Banned or not?” I replied a little coldly and, without thinking, pulled at the hem of my jumper, which pushed my tits out a tad more prominently. “I don’t need a bloody spray for Sally to take notice of me!”

“What, oh! Sorry. No offence intended”

I smiled. “Okay, not taken. Somehow, I don’t see that happening, given how opposed our politicians are to capital punishment. Does it work?”

“Oh yes,” Penny gave a wicked chuckle. “It was developed in secret by an agricultural company to aid livestock reproduction in a far-flung province. That’s how things tend to work in China. The more central authority squeezes, the more things ooze out at the country’s extreme edges, like biting into a huge doughnut!”

“I can imagine!” I muttered. I was perhaps being a little unfair, but like many people, I harboured a degree of mistrust towards that country, its huge population, and its unchecked, unelected leadership.

“It works a treat to make a disinterested bull or a boar ultra randy when sprayed on a cow or a sow, and similarly,” Peny continued. “If it didn’t have a significant drawback, I might have been tempted to give it a go myself and see what effect it has on my hunky hubby, but….” She paused and laughed. “Hell, not needed. All I have to do is snap my fingers and waggle my naked bottom in his direction to get his full attention if I’m in the mood!”

I stopped dead and stared suspiciously at her. “Drawback!” My farmyard was by no means vast, and the distance between where Penny had parked her accommodation for the week and the stable was not great. We’d been ambling very slowly, so we were still somewhat short of the stable doors when I stopped. I didn’t like the negative inflexion in her voice when she said ‘drawback’.

“Oh, pooh, nothing much to worry about, not for us anyway. I was joking about you and Sally, so please don’t even think about trying it! That’s why I wasn’t seriously considering spraying my pussy with it either. I’ve got two, and we haven’t entirely ruled out maybe a third at some point.”

“Two what?” The conversation was rapidly losing me.

Penny sighed, then said very slowly. “Kids, Honey. Children, wee bairns, as my Scottish mother-in-law would say. I have two, one of each. Remember, and as I just said, maybe I’ll add a third before I get too old, maybe… Oh, I see, sorry. Yeah, the drawback I mentioned is that it makes half the female animals sterile and, from the first spray, so virtually fuck useless for its designed purpose! I gather they had several goes at developing the stuff, each batch more potent than the previous one arousal-wise, but equally worse in that negative aspect as well.”

“But good for dogs, though. Getting them all worked up, I mean!” I showed her that my brain could fire fast once supplied with the right ammunition, as I automatically glanced back at her camper van, thinking of its occupants. “You really are a nasty, evil bitch, you know!”

“Takes one to know one,” “Sweetie!” Penny flashed her perfect white teeth in a grin of pure evil and winked at me. “I don’t know about good, but certainly useful. I don’t think there are any side effects for him, other than getting super excited and his doggie dick immediately straining his pants, were he to wear any. Anyway, I think it's very thoughtful of me to provide my randy, over-sexed big boy with his own bitch!”

“Especially one that can’t get pregnant anyway!” I added, wondering what other horrors as yet unknown lurked in that bland plastic container, she’d so casually tossed into her van. Hell, hadn’t bloody Covid come from China, according to some people! I glanced back at the innocent-looking vehicle again, thinking, ‘I really am in a different league, aren’t I, compared to some people? '. Then I hurried after the beautiful woman who seemed not the least bit bothered at what she’d just told me.

*****

“What big udders you have, Grandma!”

I sighed audibly. To think I’d promised Mandy I’d make sure she wasn’t ‘damaged’ too much before she took full ownership of the mare! I hadn’t reckoned on Penny’s unexpected arrival, had I? That gleam in her eye, along with those eager outstretched fingers, probably frightened me as much as it did Melons!

Although they’d moved in very different circles within the modelling business, Penny had mentioned the previous evening that she had once worked with Melons during the animals' previous existence—a two-day, themed kitchen shoot for a Breast Cancer awareness charity featuring a variety of popular models, both domestic and international. They were creating a calendar and other items, such as plastic kitchen aprons. ‘My face on a plastic pinny, can you believe it! Not exactly your glossy Vogue, Cosmo or the stinky stuff!’ she’d laughed. Penny invariably referred to all the high-end perfume shoots she did as ‘stinky stuff!’

Apparently, it had been a fun day for her, with a chance to meet up with other girls and old friends, some of whom had retired from the modelling ‘circuit’ or ‘bloody silly circus’, as she added with a meaningful laugh. ‘Quite a few of them brought their kids along as well, adding to the day's mayhem, and we had a heap of fun…, well, most of us did. Talking of plastic, though….’

Penny had trailed off then and glanced towards the curtained window, presumably towards the farmyard and stable building beyond, before shaking her head. The three of us waited expectantly, but nothing more happened, and by mutual silent agreement, we let the matter drop. I’d seen that cold, calculating look in our visitors' lovely eyes, along with a hint of something else that made me glad I wasn’t the one likely to be on the receiving end of that look in the unseen stable!

I’d gone to bed that evening, wondering whether there was a previous ‘history’ between Penny and Melons. I’d indeed got that impression from what she’d said, or perhaps not said, during dinner. Was that the reason for this impromptu visit? But no. Her acceptance of this modelling job predated Mandy’s acquisition, but then she’d phoned to invite herself after we’d returned from the auction, hadn’t she? Fifty/Fifty, I decided. She’d accepted the assignment, but after hearing about Mandy's acquisition of the pony, she’d decided to alter her accommodation arrangements.

Melons scowled at the pair of us, or rather her eyes did, since her bridle and mouth bit obscured much of her face. Her eyes had widened slightly, I noted, as she took in my glamorous companion. She was still mouthing obscenities into her bit, at least that’s what I assumed they were, as Penny frowned, and stopped her advance, pulling back those greedy, outstretched, long, slim fingers. I caught a brief flash from her rings, wedding and engagement, both very minimal and discreet, for she’d once confessed to hating flashy jewellery and anything remotely ostentatious, saying she was just a plain Jane at heart. Yeah, some plain Jane, I’d thought!

Like me, she didn’t even have her ears pierced, and her rings, although meant to symbolise a permanent union of two souls, tended to come and go from her finger depending on her mood and what she was doing. Her husband apparently hadn’t worn his wedding bands since the initial exchange at the church service, being of a similar mind about jewellery. An attitude not shared by Melons, who, in Mandy’s words, had ‘More bloody holes in her than a pub dart board!’.

Along with the pony, one of Sir Jeffery’s grooms handed Mandy a small plastic bag the morning after the auction, when we’d collected her. “Extras!” the guy had laughed, shaking the bag with its shiny contents. “We removed them after the sale, as per normal. Didn’t have time beforehand. We’ve also adjusted her harness tack a bit more, Ma’am. Now we’ve had time to do things proper, like”.

Mandy had accepted the bag, shaken it a couple of times as she scrutinised the contents, then tossed it back to the groom. “Tch, just what you’d expect. Cheap tat, for the most part. Hardly worth getting assessed. You’d be lucky to get much for that lot from a back-street pawnbroker, never mind a decent jeweller. Do with it what you want. Flog it and share the proceeds among yourselves. Personally, I’d find the nearest rubbish bin,” she’d sniffed derisively. “No class whatsoever!”

Mellon's attitude to jewellery differed considerably from ours. She had five holes in each ear, two in her nose, a stud and a ring and had sported no fewer than three belly button piercings. I doubted that anything they’d removed in the stable was cheap. Unsophisticated tat, maybe, but probably not cheap. Not, judging by the sudden look of gratitude on the groom's face as he caught that little bag.

Mellon's fingers were always invariably crowned with improbably long fake talons or had been when she was running loose in the world, so to speak. The acrylic or whatever stubs remained on her fingernails, or most of them, presumably cut back when they stripped and tacked her. The same fingers had also sported a collection of garish rings with large gemstones, courtesy of numerous boyfriends and lovers, but probably chosen by her. They were the very opposite of those on Penny’s finger, and I assumed the chunky things were all in that plastic bag as well, so no wonder it clinked so much when she threw it back, and the young guy looked so happy.

Melons, of course, had been less happy, or so Suzy told us in the car afterwards. She’d been watching the ponies’ eyes while Mandy and I had been focused on the groom. ‘Mortified’ was the word the girl used later when we were talking about it. As for Melons’ weekend, I’d thought to myself, it was like the final sour topping on a very unpleasant-tasting cake. Mind you, had I been that creature, seeing my jewellery so casually described and ruthlessly discarded would have been upsetting, perhaps, but given the circumstances, it would hardly have been the most serious problem I was facing at that precise moment!

Maybe the unexpected turn of events since she’d arrived at the event in her oversized, garish pink motor had overwhelmed her limited mental faculties… Then I reconsidered, dismissing that line of thought. No, given the social prominence she’d achieved, the plastic-titted bitch had never been stupid, had she? Manipulative, exploitative, ambitious, self-seeking and a whole lot more along those lines, but never stupid. Plus, she’d had a night in Sir Jefferies’ stable, stripped and tacked up to mull everything over as well!

Penny had paused in her advance and sniffed loudly and disdainfully as her prey backed up against the rear brick wall of her stall, and she probably would have gone through it if that had been possible. Wishful thinking, and by no means the first time I’d seen a scared pony try to do that! Human nature, I suppose, or perhaps primitive animal nature, is to move away from what you perceive as threatening. Had not Caesar done likewise not five minutes ago in the corner of my kitchen?

I wondered whether that contemptuous nasal noise from Penny was aimed at Melons, at me as her supposed trainer, or perhaps at both of us. Ponies were expected to stand upright and proud at the front of their stalls when their owner or trainer entered the building or when they were viewed there. That way, you could admire and pet them if you wished, basking in the distinct thrill of complete ownership of the respectful, submissive beasts. Well, so far, I’d had mixed success with that, if that’s what was annoying the woman. Rome wasn’t built in a day, either. What did my glamorous visitor expect?

Looking around, I could see that Beauty was perfectly positioned, as were Beanpole and, surprisingly, Suzy’s Candi. He’d survived his time in Helga’s stable almost untouched by whip and crop, but his behaviour clearly showed how true the German woman’s reputation for savagery was. He must have watched and learned while she inducted his sisters into their new lives, along with all the other unfortunates in her stable. Young Suzy was highly proficient, but she’d not had him long enough to achieve that level of submission, I thought.

Medusa and Goldie were also showing themselves, which was a plus. Well, if not exactly in the correct locations, at least they were up on their feet, hooves rather, I immediately corrected myself for slipping backwards and hovering near the front of their stalls. That was a big improvement from a few weeks ago. Well done, us, the home team, I complimented myself. Of course, it was just as likely that the Russian duo were trying to keep a wary eye on what was happening, but I chose to ignore that in favour of some mental back-patting.

Penny, it appeared, did not agree if that was the case. Still, she was entirely focused on Melons, who remained distinctly apprehensive, cowering as far back from us as she could and showing neither the slightest hint of submission nor respect for her betters. Hardly surprising, I thought, for I’d probably have reacted in the same way were our positions reversed. Perhaps even more so, for she had an evil reputation for being a first-class bitch to anyone she perceived as more menial, such as shop and restaurant staff, hotel employees, and a whole range of others. To my knowledge, she’d been kicked off at least three flights, but being the bitch, she was, that wouldn’t have worried her. She had the knack of turning such embarrassing situations into yet more publicity for herself.

They’d never know it, but there were probably many ponies or other captive unfortunates out there who could thank their stars that the bitch had ended up here had she been less of a security risk. I suspected that, as an owner and trainer, Melons would have been far more akin to Helga than to me, and potentially worse than the German woman, given her well-known petty, spiteful, unforgiving nature. I was apparently a little too, well… Sally and Suzy were always nagging me to adopt what you might call a less sympathetic attitude and approach to the animals!

I thought it was a shade harsh on me, for I doubted whether Beauty, Goldie, or even Melons here would agree with them, nor little Fluffy, come to that. True, I was probably more reflective and introspective than they were, but that didn’t stop me from wielding a mean whip or crop on helpless captive pony hide, did it! I didn’t think I was soft. Hell, if I’d been the least bit soft-hearted, would Beauty and Fluffy be here, or my new friends, come to that!

“When is Mandy going to collect the animal?” Penny asked. “I was somewhat surprised to hear she’d even left it here with you, given what I know about her?”

I shook my head. “No idea. She was a bit bothered by what Bob might say. I gather he was in the throes of an excessive bout of doom and gloom, predicting the imminent collapse of civilisation… the financial side of it, anyway. Apparently, he gets such bouts of severe depression from time to time. That’s why Mandy was reluctant to spring her purchase of a new and extremely expensive pony into the mix. At least not until he’s cheered up a few notches and she’s had time to prepare the ground a bit, I thought that a little odd as well, but who am I to say anything? She’s going to work on some scheme Suzy suggested to get his approval, so it’ll be a few weeks yet, I’d imagine.”

“Of Suzy’s,” Penny snorted derisively and muttered something else under her breath. I caught the words ‘…go belly up’ among others, but decided to stay quiet.

Penny shifted her thoughtful gaze to me and clicked her tongue. “Well, as I gather you’ve been nominated trainer in chief, I think I’ll add my experience to the project on Mandy’s behalf while I’m here. Not that I’m trying to put you down or anything like that, you understand. On a scale of, say, one to ten, where would you put this sad creature in terms of training and basic obedience, progress-wise?”

“Progress?” I stared at her for a moment, and for a second, I felt a little put out, but that passed almost immediately. Penny was one of those people who were blatantly honest and open, and who tended to speak their minds, which was all she was doing now on behalf of her other, far older, friend. Older in terms of years known, I mean, Mandy hadn’t actually said anything about training Melons. Still, I suspected she’d be disappointed in me if I sent a completely feral animal back to her when she was ready to receive it. Indeed, I’d also be disappointed in myself to some extent, and would be left feeling like an amateur to boot! True, I was ‘boarding’ the animal, but I’d gained the distinct impression that slightly more was expected of me… and my team, so to speak.

I noted that Melon's agitation had momentarily ceased after trying to reverse through a solid brick wall, and she was now standing rigid, staring fixedly at Penny. I reminded myself that, despite how we regarded and treated them, we sometimes forget that, though they may seem dumb to us, they certainly aren’t deaf or stupid! The animal was watching us both warily and, for once in her life, keeping quiet. Probably a first for her, because she was also known for her hair-trigger temper and the vocabulary of…of a ‘fishwife’, as my grandmother would have said. I never understood that term as a child, but I had looked up its meaning in later years. Apparently, in the Victorian period, the female porters at London’s famous Billingsgate fish market were known for being loud, coarse and proficient in profanity! Hence the expression.

“One to ten?” I repeated slowly, then sighed, thinking of those well-trained animals Mandy kept in her stable, Penny no doubt likewise owning similar. Hell, my Beauty was probably only a five, maybe a six, or occasionally a seven on one of her better days…at a stretch! “Honest assessment, one to ten?” I queried, staring at Melons, at that outraged expression in the mare's eyes, and feeling a touch amused.

I mean, it was entirely her own fault, was it not? If you were determined to be a social climber, do it with a bit of class and common sense. She’d climbed upwards, becoming ever louder, more vulgar and more obnoxious the higher she got, dragging the popular media with her in that seemingly insatiable lust for publicity and so-called fame. Fame, though, is a fickle thing with a poor memory and demands far more than a pair of ever-expanding boobs, a once-pretty face that had met the surgeon’s knife a few times too often, and… not a great deal else to anchor you among the ‘greats’.

Like me, she’d somehow gained access to another world, but unlike me, she had failed to recognise that such a world and its inhabitants would shun fame, publicity and the media, treating exposure to them as they might the infamous plagues of the Middle Ages. Small, insignificant outbreaks of infection they were more than powerful enough to deal with, and evidently, from what I’d gathered, had and did deal with when necessary. I presented no danger, no threat, whereas… I eyed Melons. Who in their right mind would consider her a suitable initiate for such an ultra-exclusive club! Another potentially deadly outbreak that was swiftly dealt with, isolating both her and her foolish sponsor.

I found myself shivering slightly. Talk about being ruthless and without mercy. Once you were on the hook, there was zero chance of them throwing you back in the lake. Then I thought of Beauty again, and the others, and, of course, that ruthlessness made eminent sense. You didn’t take prisoners, did you… not in the normal sense, and as for Melons, there was no Geneva Convention to guarantee her rights.

“You're doing it again, Sweetie!”

“Doing what?”

“Going AWOL on me. What was that word I used earlier, Spasmy wasn’t it?”

“Pah,” I grinned at her. “Merely exercising the little grey cells, as what’s-his-name would say, the famous Belgian detective and…” I considered a rueful smile. “Maybe zero point five on your scale,” I shrugged, adding defensively, “I mean, she’s only been here a couple of days, and I’ve had lots of other things on my mind and to do since we got back from Sir Jeffery’s place.” A little white lie goes a long way!

I didn't know what else I’d had on my mind or what to do, and luckily Penny didn’t ask. She pursed her lips, frowned at Melons, then smiled and nodded. “Well, no harm done, and I’m here now. I’ve got a week, and probably more, if I know Bettina - her photo shoots are always a bit chaotic and tend to run over. The word ‘schedule’ means nothing to her. She drives her PAs mad. I should have been on set with the gang tomorrow, but I’ve already had a text saying it's been pushed back till the day after.”

“Well, you're more than welcome to stay as long as…” I let it trail off as Penny's attention was clearly elsewhere. She’d resumed her advance towards our new ‘shrinking violet’. I shrugged and hastened after her. I’d seen Penny in action and heard a few things about her from Suzy and Sally. She might be a drop-dead gorgeous, ultra-chic international professional model, a working mum with two lovely kids and a big, handsome hubby, but she was also a grade-A bitch when it came to captive animals!

My glamorous guest might have known Mandy for much longer than I had, but I felt a certain sense of responsibility. Melons, yes, we would have to do something about that name soon. But the animal had been placed in my care, albeit temporarily, and she/it was still my responsibility. ‘No harm done!’ Penny had said, so what did she intend? I’d had a pretty good idea, but how harmful did she intend it to be?

Melons, as I might have said before, wasn’t very tall. I don’t mean she was like Sally or even Suzy, but she wasn’t as tall as I was barefoot, and even in her hoof boots, she didn’t match the height of the tall, willowy model. Indeed, as I said, this was the first time it struck me how tall the model was, probably why she intimidated young Suzy so much!

Melons, in her human form, had a certain kind of presence, I suppose, which might be one way to describe it. That ability—some people, especially in show business and similar circles, seem to possess to project themselves on a larger-than-life scale. Naturally, everyone appears more prominent when seen in tabloid papers or glossy magazines. Add to that her generous smile, a pair of breasts that had progressively expanded over the years and were regularly on display until quite recently, and a ruthless talent for marketing herself at every opportunity, despite not having any talent as such! Well, I doubted she was smiling now behind that mouth bit, and if she were, I’d have been very surprised if it had any effect on Penny!

“My, what a hideous pair of oversized udders!” Penny mocked, reaching out to grasp and squeeze the pony's jutting right breast. Melons squealed into her bit, a mixture of indignation, outrage and anger. Not that she should have been surprised. The creature had been in harness long enough to have received more than her fair share of such intimate attention. They were just too… too tempting and so prominently displayed. ‘Triple-strength silicon, gotta be to stick out like this, Suzy had commented, bouncing first one and then the other up and down that first morning, much to the mare's obvious discomfort and chagrin.

“What’s the matter, Melons?” Penny asked with complete insincerity, doing almost the same thing to those creamy orbs that Suzy’s eager fingers had done. “I thought you liked having these fat udders appreciated, heaven’s, you must have spent a small fortune at that Turkish clinic over the years! Mind you, it might have been cheaper to have had your local bicycle dealer install a pump valve, eh! The fat tits that launched a million juvenile male wanks, eh?”

Melons squirmed and struggled, mouthed obscenities through her bit, some of which were readily comprehensible despite that oral impediment, such was the vitriolic tirade. That was all she could do, though, pinned hard against the wall by a taller, younger, fitter woman. An outburst that deteriorated into painful shrieks as Penny's long, slender fingers began to do more than merely caress and fondle those soft, fleshy orbs. Silicone or not, there was still enough original content to cause the silly bitch acute pain.

Penny's head lowered, her features twisted into a contemptuous smile. Her right hand released its grip on Melon's left udder after a final hard squeeze that made the pony writhe in desperate agony. A finger pushed Melon's chin upwards, forcing her to look into her tormentor's eyes. Eyes that were stone-cold, cruel, lacking warmth and empathy to match the cruel smile on her luscious lips. Natural lips, I noted, unlike those on the pony, who sported a pair of ‘blubber lips’ as Suzy would have called them!

Don’t get me wrong. I mean, Melons. She wasn’t exactly unappealing to the eye and certainly hadn’t been in her younger days. Not quite in the same class as Penny or even Mandy, but she’d more than held her own against an entire generation of similar centrefold and tabloid wannabes and continued to do so once past that first flush of youth. The face and body that had launched a thousand, or perhaps more like ten thousand, plus clones, almost an entire youthful generation of rubber-lipped, big-titted, over-painted, artificial and… well, you know what I mean. Fortunately, not all of us had followed the trend and remained au naturel, fake tan, eyelashes, plastic and lip filler free!

“Remember the ‘Domestic Goddess’ kitchen and home calendar shoot we did a few years back? No, yes, that’s right, slut! What was it you called us… Oh yes, flat-fronted freaks. Flat-fronted freaks!” Penny repeated slowly. “And what was that other one, that snide comment you aimed specifically at me… Oh, you know, I’ve forgotten it, would you believe. So petty and unnecessary that I didn’t even bother to remember it.” She paused, and her voice turned cold. “I’d remember the way it was said, though, that… that sneering, condescending tone and that look you gave me. Yes, I definitely recall that look and tone.” Penny nodded slowly, then turned to me. “Do you know what this bitch did afterwards?”

I shook my head. “I doubt it was to give you an apology”, I grinned.

“Oh, no. Nothing to do with me or the other girls she insulted. This greedy bitch insisted on being paid and made a huge fuss about it after the shoot, of course. She claimed she’d been lied to, that she’d been told it was only a one-day event, not two, and demanded payment for her participation at her usual rate for both days! Would have taken that poor charity to court over it as well, would you believe, the greedy, money-grubbing bitch! Turned the whole thing into a publicity exercise, casting herself as the exploited heroine, no less!”

I nodded. I had a vague memory of reading something about it a few years earlier. Hadn’t she been accused of using a charity event as a publicity stunt, or something like that, around the time she started marketing her own cosmetics line? One of those ‘storm in a teacup’ situations that the tabloid press delights in stirring up. The conventional establishment was against her and her wannabe supporters, who claimed she was being unfairly represented and portrayed!

“Quickly, settled out of court in the end,” Penny grunted, turning her attention back to the struggling Melons. “And guess who coughed up the cash you so greedily took. Yes, that’s right, cunt. Me and those other models, some of them anyway!” She turned and winked at me before lowering her face almost into Melon's. “Funny how things work out, isn’t it, bitch. Don’t worry, though, I’m no Shylock. I don’t want a pound of flesh… I’ll settle for leaving my mark permanently embedded on said flesh instead!”

Melons screeched into her bit as Penny slowly and deliberately squeezed hard on both of the mare's most prominent features.