Pony Renaissance

Pony Renaissance  

Chapter 1

“Do you mind if I come in and take a look?”

Those words seemed to hang in the air for an eternity. The speaker was a tall slim blonde woman perhaps in her early forties but supremely attractive,  willowy the sort that had ‘ex-model’ written all over her and not the cheaper page three ‘tits and bums’ end of the business either. Hair in a simple ponytail and dressed in expensive but scuffed brown heeled knee boots, tight fashionable ripped jeans and a baggy fawn sweater. If I had worn clothes like that, I would have looked merely scruffy, but she oozed cat-walk class turning scruff into sophisticated casual elegance. It seemed to be an irrelevant question because she was already inside and confidently crossing over to Beauties stall even as I stood rooted to the spot gaping open-mouthed at and then after her. 

Beauty was animated, frantic, body shaking, chains rattling, stamping her feet, head bobbing about as far as she could. She was even vocal, although screaming incoherently into her bit she was managing to create an impressive amount of noise despite that devices impediment. The racket was slightly annoying, I thought peevishly. Evidently, my visitor was of the exact same opinion for she stopped before my excited pony and immediately lashed out backhanding one breast and then slapping the other full-on with the palm of her right hand.

“QUIET!” she ordered aloud. “Stop it at once you stupid animal. I am not here to set you free so get that notion out of your silly head right now!” She repeated the punitive action this time on just the right breast. “Clear?”

“Sorry” she turned to me beaming a wide apologetic smile. “Atrocious manners on my part I know, but I can’t abide disobedience and unruly behaviour in these creatures. I don’t normally make a habit of talking to them either. Mind if I take a closer look at this fine animal of yours? I assume from her idiotic behaviour that she’s untrained as yet, fresh from the wild perhaps? ”

My dazed head responded automatically shaking from side to side to indicate that I had no objection, my mouth also opened but nothing came out other than something that sounded to my ears more like a gargling hiss! I was about to try again, but the visitor was already engaged in her examination of my ponygirl.  

My world had abruptly come crashing down around my ears. How the hell? Who the hell, I mean? I’d been so sure, so damn sure and piss pot pleased with myself. The perfect crime, my god how clever I’d thought myself and now this? Yes, my heart was in my mouth, and the bottom had abruptly dropped out of my stomach…., and yet as I looked towards Beauties stall, those feelings began to abate somewhat.

This stunning blonde interloper seemed to know exactly what she was doing. Her hand-delivered two more meaty slaps to Beauties udders in a manner that showed she would brook no misbehaviour whatsoever from her. The woman used that slim hand almost as effectively as I had earlier used my cane, leaving vivid imprints on my ponies quivering breasts that were now more red than white! There was not the slightest sign of hesitation as she chastised my captive pony. Nor was there any display of sympathy or outrage at the girl's predicament.

Now she had Beauties bridle in a tight grip twisting her one way and then the other. She would have been almost as tall as my pony without her expensive-looking heeled boots and was obviously well accustomed to handling such unusual captive animals. Her free hand ranged all over squeezing, kneading, weighing, assessing as Beauty now frightened into silence,  squirmed in helpless indignation in that firm grasp. 

“Don’t worry” she called reassuringly over her shoulder. “these proud udders will soon lose their colour though she’ll be a mite sore for a few hours. Habit I’m afraid, most people flog their rumps raw. I have always found that a few flicks of my whip across the more sensitive parts of their anatomy is the most effective way of ensuring instant compliance when required!” The woman chuckled and added, “ Besides, the way a mare or filly then squeals for me is so delightful!”

I began to relax as I watched Beauties head roughly wrenched around. “No, you don’t!” the woman snarled then called back to me to carry on the one-sided conversation. “Much less effort as well not that I don’t regularly indulge myself employing cane and crop across such as these tempting meaty mounds from time to time. These beasts need constant reminders as to their status and who owns them!” she slapped Beauties exposed rump hard, leaving another visible handprint. Her attention moved upward as she twisted the bridle, even more, making Beauty squeak and dragged her anguished face closer to her own. “Don’t irritate me animal; I expect that I am vastly more experienced than your new owner. I doubt that you can even begin to imagine the sort of nasty things that I am capable of doing to you!” she hissed before turning to me again.

“How long have you had the beast?”

“Just a… not long, only a couple of days actually” I managed to stammer as I continued to gawp at this unexpected but supremely confident intruder.

“Uh-huh, thought as much, STAND STILL DAMN YOU!” There was another loud crack as palm met flesh producing a muted fearful pained squeal from Beauty, but I noted an abrupt cessation of movement at her left breast quivered under the harsh slap. Her head shot upwards, and she arched high on tiptoe in shock as her bridle was released and two sets of long fingers explored her most sensitive and private spots front and back. Her head turned towards me wide-eyed in a startled horrified mute appeal.

Evidently, I was already her protector? Strange, I thought. My pony recognised which of her tormentors posed the more significant threat at this particular moment, and it wasn’t me! Mind you; she was almost certainly correct. I thought as I watched the strange woman crouch as she ran her hands down, Beauties strong legs and calves before lifting and examining her feet. Hooves I should say because that’s just what I was reminded of as I watched.  It was a replica of a groom or blacksmith doing precisely the same with a real horse. Not that she wasn’t in many ways a ‘real horse’ to my eyes now. 

To anyone else, well almost anyone else she would appear as an attractive shapely statuesque girl bizarrely confined by tight, uncomfortable bondage, to my eyes and evidently to my visitor another perception now overlaid that fundamental reality. That of the captive human equine and it was clear that my visitor had neither surprise nor an ounce of sympathy for the girls' predicament.

The elegant blonde ceased her examination and stood upright dusting and smoothing down her jeans then gave Beauty a lighter parting slap on her left buttock by way of a farewell before approaching me. A rueful smile crossed her face as she was about to hold a hand out then looked at it recalling just where her fingers had been probing only moments before.

“There is a basin over in that corner” I nodded pre-empting her question. “It only has cold water, though. I didn’t think it worthwhile to….” I trailed off under her amused quizzical expression.

“Quite right,” She said with a glance back to the occupied stall. “No need to pamper the creature although if you intend to increase your stock substantially in the future,  you might want to think of your own hygiene requirements in terms of comfort and convenience” Her eyes briefly ranged around my building taking in the empty stalls and general clutter.

“Perhaps the kitchen over in the house?” I offered.

She nodded and smiled. “I think that would be more appropriate. One does get used to handling the creatures but…” she looked down at her hands and laughed. “Hardly very polite though to shake hands when you have ponygirl pussy juice and traces of shit on your fingers! Anyway, I could murder a coffee should one be forthcoming.”

We both laughed, and I led the way out and across to my house. My glamorous new ‘friend’ nodding her approval as I paused to close the stable door and set the lock and alarm. Neither of us thought to give Beauty a second glance as we departed although a thought crossed my mind as the lock clicked shut. I somehow knew that any chance, small as it might have been of my releasing my captive had vanished the moment this unexpected but supremely confident woman had poked her head into my stable!

*****

“That’s perfectly fine” Mandy assured me as I passed her a mug of coffee and placed a plate with an assortment of biscuits on the kitchen table. “My husband is the one who’s a total fusspot when it comes to coffee, me I’m a gal with simple tastes, hot, brown and wet, so instant suits me just as well as anything else. Lived on the stuff as a teen during my early modelling days” She selected a large chocolate biscuit, bit out a hearty chunk and munched noisily for a couple of seconds then swallowed and brushed a crumb from her lightly glossed pink lips.

“So, having apologised for this rude and completely unannounced invasion of your privacy, I should, of course, explain more. No doubt you are curious as to why I came and a whole lot more? I expect I gave you a teeny bit of a shock!”

My eyes widened “Teeny!” I protested indignantly, and we both laughed again.

“Well, I have already apologised for startling you. Truth to tell, once I peeped into your stable and confirmed my suspicions I was in two minds. Should I sneak away and then contact you via more conventional means or just barge straight on in? Well, as you noticed, I can be very direct at times, hence me sitting here with you now. These are gorgeous, absolutely delicious by the way”. She finished her biscuit and promptly selected another.

“There is an elderly lady down in the village who bakes them. The Post Office puts them into small bags and sells them for her on behalf of a local cat rescue she supports, bit pricey but very good”.

Even as I spoke, my mind drifted back a couple of hours to my recent drive to the post office and my earlier train of thought. Extraordinary. My carefully preserved awful secret was already out, and yet I now sensed no reason to fear my visitor none at all. “I’m all ears” I assured her, and of course I was. My visitor had introduced herself while she rinsed her hands in my kitchen sink, and then we’d shaken hands. Not immediately though because as soon as we had entered, she’d spotted Fluffy chained to the wall and rushed over to have a closer look at my frightened little puppy girl.

“Delightful. Quite delightful” was her opinion and so perfect for the role you have assigned to her. I did wonder when I saw the order for the puppy-suit, branching out in another direction?

My unexpected visitors' name was Amanda Montague-Smythe. Very pretentious isn’t it she’d laughed and added to just call her Mandy, everyone else does. Except for her husband, she had confided. Always Amanda with him, a bit of a stiff-necked formal bastard, good family and all that upper-class rot, but rich, oh so filthy rich” she’d added with a wink, “old money too, tons of the stuff and a godsend to a vicious, sadistic bitch like me. You met him earlier!”

I shook my head and must have looked puzzled for she laughed again, nibbled on the biscuit and then enlightened me. “You met him at the end of your driveway doing his delivery driver impression no doubt abetted by a horrendous East European accent. He really needs to work on that. Does a far better Chinese one but hardly looks the part!”.

“That was him?”

“Umm…yup, I must call in at that post office when I leave and make my contribution towards those poor pussy cats, I’ll take a half dozen bags home with me, very pleasing to the palate. We don’t live all that far away so brought that big box over there back from Germany with us and delivered it to your village post office as per the label. We keep an old white van handy for…Mmmm, let’s say some deliveries or collections that are better kept as discrete as possible!

We didn’t have your house address, but I had a hunch it wouldn’t be long before you came calling, so we had a bar meal in the pub and kept an eye out for you, or at least for whoever came to collect the parcel. You’ll have noted that it was somewhat oversized and generously covered in that very visible thick reinforced yellow tape.”

I nodded. “Almost blunted my knife hacking into it!” A thought occurred to me. “Suppose I’d been away, on holiday or something?”

“That was always a possibility. Its happened to us before when we have taken an interest in one of our customers. Of course, always one of the regular ones who order a lot of stuff from our more extreme range. You hadn’t spent a huge amount, but as I said, we live not too far from you.”

“We?” I asked, Your customers?”

She sipped her coffee and nodded. “Uh-huh. A colleague of ours founded the business some five years ago; it was becoming increasingly difficult to purchase the sort of items we wanted, indeed needed through more…shall we say sources of mediocre bondage items? There was next to nothing available that would meet our stringent requirements for the tack we need to contain and control our stock. Plenty of ‘play-acting’ kit around but nothing of substance”.  I noted that she literally spat out the word ‘play’ with a good deal of contempt.

“My research and quite a few of my early purchases showed me that” I noted regretfully thinking of the money I’d wasted.

“Junk” she observed cynically. “Designed for Saturday night ‘lovey-dovey’ fetishists and similar amateur wannabe perverts. Try keeping 250 plus pounds of highly muscled angry wild stallion bound in that crap while you flog the skin off its recalcitrant rump! I wouldn’t recommend it, not if you value your life!” she exclaimed aloud then continued.

“There was a guy in Spain, a superb leather craftsman who used to supply a fantastic range of kit all made to individual order, but he was virtually a one-person business and when he passed away…” She paused and shrugged. “Well it was hard to find decent replacements, and of course the one thing you don’t want to risk is anyone asking questions as to just why you want stuff of a quality that would make Alcatraz or Sing Sings finest restraint items look weak! Any fool can make heavy and secure stuff but inevitably always too damn heavy, clumsy and ugly. To do the same but make it light and easy on the eye, well that’s an art!”

“So, you decided to manufacture your own items?”

“Correct, but please don’t make us sound like a bloody car factory! Craft is a better word. Craft our own equipment to our unique specifications. A German friend with extensive business interests set up a small company. He discretely bought all the assets, equipment, contact lists, etc., from our Spanish supplier and offered his sole apprentice a very lucrative salary and relocation package. I understand that the old man's relatives were happy to get shot of the somewhat unorthodox leather business when they discovered that most of what he appeared to make and sell to tourists was just a front for his real business. Very conservative Catholics I believe” she added with a laugh. “I can imagine their faces when they did a stock take”  she chuckled again.

I sipped my coffee thoughtfully, frowned trying to get my head around all that she was saying. “So, you are telling me that this company, this company is just a sort of front for your….your organisation or whatever?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh goodness me no, not at all. My German friend would certainly take offence at the very notion. Making money is the most important thing in his life…” she paused to consider then added. “well maybe joint equal with some of his more exotic little hobbies and of course the former pays for the latter”. She stopped and then closed one eye in a mischievous wink. “When I say hobbies I’m not talking about stamp collecting either!”

I smiled. “I’m not stupid Mandy; I think I’ve gathered that. I take it that we are both on the same wavelength?” I nodded my head in the direction of my stable.

“Oh my goodness, yes, I didn’t exactly arrive with a posse of police cars, all blue flashing lights and wailing sirens, did I?” Mandy laughed and then added. “But, of course, you want to know why and how I knew what I would find or suspected I might find over there?” This time she was the one to nod her head.

“I take it that this visit is in some way connected to my equipment orders, but surely you don’t spend all your time, err….?”

“Snooping?”

“I was going to say, taking such a personal interest in your customers, investigating them up close as it were!”

“No, of course not” Mandy laughed then frowned in thought. “Our little, let’s call it a circle of, well not necessarily friends” she paused and then whispered. “Actually, there are a couple of people I positively hate and loath!  Let’s say our circle of acquaintances with similar unique interests is not particularly extensive as I am sure you can imagine.”

“People with interest in Ponygirls, reluctant ones?” it was my turn to smile.

“Ponygirls, ponyboys, yes, but that only touches on one particular aspect of our members varied and perverse interests” she broke off with a wicked chuckle. “Reluctant’ would perhaps be rather a mild adjective when it comes to describing the acquiescence nature of the creatures we delight in owning” she gave another evil chuckle and reached for the biscuit plate again. “Very mild!” she repeated thoughtfully.

“Another, or a top-up”, I indicated her mug and received a thumbs-up, followed by the now-empty biscuit plate pushed in my direction. Yeah Gods, how the hell could she keep that trim figure with that sort of an appetite!

“Mmmm, lovely, thank you.” She sat down again and pulled the steaming mug towards her. Little Fluffy was whimpering quietly in the corner no doubt on account of Mandy taking the opportunity to examine her in more intimate detail. At the same time, I was busy with kettle and biscuit tin nor from the smacking sounds behind me had she spared her palm.

“As I was saying, our numbers are limited, and we can’t exactly advertise for new recruits” she gave a short laugh. “Mind you; I am sure we would get plenty of suitable applicants, one only has to glance at the newspapers to realise how many nasty people there are in this world”.

“Is that how you see yourself, nasty?”

Mandy pursed her lips and looked at me thoughtfully. “No, no, not really. Different perhaps, superior, privileged. I suppose deep down one does not even think about or consider what you are doing. It becomes, umm, second nature almost natural. One does what one does, but without thinking about it overmuch because of the pleasure, you derive. Throughout history, there have been Masters’, and there have been slaves, that was accepted as a social norm. The owned and their owners. Those who wield the lash and those who suffer under it.” She laughed, “Getting rather deep aren’t I and nasty is probably another mild term. Evil, wicked, perverted, sadistic, perhaps even sick!” she paused and shrugged her shoulders adding quietly “but also completely natural and acceptable for me these days, normal and very satisfying in more than one way. But enough, such discussions are a complete no-no, very bad form in my circle!”

“Also unnecessary I expect.”

“Quite. None of us is ever going to backtrack. The consequences would be unthinkable; I assume you took that onboard yourself when you decided to acquire that splendid creature housed out there in your stable plus that cute if terrified, little puppy bitch over there?”

I nodded my agreement. I understood her thinking. There was no way I was ever going to release either of my animals, no way. Nor would any other soul ever find out about them. That thought immediately brought me back to Mandy. No soul? I’d failed already on that score big time, hadn’t I!

“Security is obviously of the highest priority.” Mandy continued as if reading my mind “Naturally, we all have facilities that would rival, even exceed some Class A  prisons. Unlike them, we don’t have any namby-pamby liberal rules regarding the use of leg irons, chains, collars and the like, plus carte blanch to amuse ourselves as we wish and to ensure none of our stock is ever going to wander off and seek pastures new”.

“That was one of the first things I thought about,” I told her and gestured to a monitor mounted on one wall. I picked up a nearby remote and took her on a whirlwind tour of my farm. She nodded approvingly.

“Not bad but you were certainly not paying attention earlier were you. My husband noted the camera by your gate, so I swung a leg over your fence lower down. I’d strongly suggest getting that replaced with something more substantial plus audible and perhaps re-siting your gate camera, maybe adding one or two more as well. I can recommend a suitable company; they have some that have decent motion alarms that work very efficiently. Good enough to let a badger, fox or a cat pass but recognise something our size instantly. You ought to have some of those spread around.

I decided it was time to take the bull by the horns plus I wanted more information about her, about this so-called ‘circle of friends’. I was feeling both excited but also a little angry at myself, also at her!  I had thought I was oh so smart, so safe and yet my secret was no longer a secret before I’d barely even been able to begin and enjoy my ponygirls training! I felt a touch indignant about that also vulnerable and perhaps even a little afraid. Being a natural loner since childhood, I’d long understood that a secret was only a secret when only one person knew about it!

Maybe I’d let those feelings show for Mandy who’d been watching me closely suddenly chuckled and demonstrated once again that uncanny ability to read my mind.

“What’s that expression people use” she pondered aloud “Ah, Rocket science, that’s it, that’s what they say. It's not rocket science nor black magic come to that, nor has your admirable security been compromised. You found our bondage equipment and accessories site on the internet, did you not? You saw the various ranges, quite comprehensive now, growing both in items and profitability. The world is full of kinky people judging from the sales figures. Hermann is indeed one happy bunny. You will also have noted the significant price jump between our more normal ranges and the extreme range. It isn’t just the quality of the product and craftsmanship, but the price is deliberately set very high. 

“I noted that,” I remarked a trifle peevishly.

That made her laugh. “Oh, don’t worry honey, I think from now on you will qualify for items at cost or even free maybe in future. What made you buy in the first place though if I may ask?”

“Your marketing blurb was compelling, might even have been written for me plus everything I saw convinced me of quality, those pictures, it all just looked so …so un-escapable!”

“That was the intention. A significant portion of the site is dedicated to just that range, yet only two per cent of our sales come from those products. Just a measly two per cent!  It gets a tremendous number of hits as you can imagine but very few sales given the exorbitant prices. The profit from that low per cent is, of course, useful when compared to that from the other stock. You are right of course in respect of the quality and as for the pictures…” she broke off with an abrupt laugh.

“They were real weren’t they,” I said slowly, realisation dawning. “I mean they were not models, you could never see a face, not in even a single photo, not clearly and the way they were bound and posed or perhaps not posed. There was something about them, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on, the look in those anonymous hooded eyes?”.

“Very perceptive” Mandy smiled approvingly. “Part of the last photoshoot for the most recent update was done at my place and featured some of my livestock. Yours truly even appears in a few pics although all you see is a booted leg or an arm holding a crop plus a couple of shots from the rear” she grinned. “I can still do a nice rear shot in tight pants. No action pics though and I had to restrain myself for almost an entire month to keep their hides in pristine, unmarked condition prior to the shoot. Bit of a giveaway if they’d been snapped in their normal state. My whip might have given photoshop a problem to remove” She finished with another chuckle and casually added, “ They still had some editing to do though, my abstinence couldn’t remove all the old scars left on their hides from my obedience training!”

“So not many people order from your top end, reality range” I mused daylight beginning to finally dawn.

“Reality range, that’s a good term. Nope, very few and so we naturally take an interest in all those that do. Many are one off’s never to be heard from again or else they stick to the cheaper stuff with follow up orders. No, make that our more economical ranges, cheap we don’t do. Maybe we are missing a bet there, but you have to draw a line somewhere. Either they are not serious players or perhaps just cheapskates. Neither is of interest. People who skimp on gear are likely to skimp dangerously elsewhere!” Mandy finished with a nod toward my security monitor.

“…and I placed more than one order, didn’t I. Spent quite a lot, in fact?”

“Sure did honey and so that trigged the green light—possibly worthy of a discrete little visit, especially given your location.  Normally we use a specialist company, expensive but very good at ferreting out peoples naughty little secrets. Then your last order came in while hubby and I were over there on a routine visit and interestingly you had a whole range of precise measurements for the first time. Either you had found your self a willing partner and considering some of our gear they’d have to be ‘very willing’ or there was another reason?” she smiled and turned to look at Fluffy. 

“Elementary, my dear Watson!” I muttered. “Do I get a gilded invitation to join this little club of yours….” I stopped briefly as a sinister thought struck me. “Or is there an unpleasant ending should you get blackballed?”

Mandy gave me a big beaming smile. “Possibly to answer the latter but so far that has never happened.” The smile faded abruptly. “Well, not entirely true. Once we nearly had an unfortunate incident. One of our older friends rather foolishly became enamoured of a much younger woman, even married her, one of those ridiculous spur of the moment holiday romances. A cruise ship, a young dancer and a silly old fart! The greedy bitch wasn’t interested in sharing his lifestyle, and it rapidly became apparent that her interest in him was exclusively confined to his numerous bank accounts. The stupid creature seemed to think that those more specialised little interests of his gave her an excellent reason to add a substantial bonus on top of what she already intended to take him to the cleaners for. Fortunately, he’d had the good sense only to disclose some of the less controversial aspects of his unusual interests.”

“What happened to her? She wasn’t….” I left the question open. I was curious but also feeling a little afraid suddenly.

“No nothing like that” Mandy reassured me then screwing her face up thoughtfully, added. “Mind you; she might have preferred it so. Officially the silly girl simply disappeared one fine day. Car was caught numerous times on the autobahn camera system but not where she intended to get off, never got off at any camera covered exit, just disappeared car as well! That company I mentioned earlier can provide a wide range of very specialised services. The family doctor, conveniently another established member of our little group testified at the inquiry as to the ‘schizophrenic behaviour he’d been treating.  Missing person, known behavioural, medical problems, the case still open on the books  but effectively closed forever.”

“So, what did happen to her” I repeated.

Mandy feigned a yawn. “Oh, I expressed an interest, being a dancer she was a fit young filly, but Anton gave her to his daughter instead. They hadn’t hit it off from the beginning. Sophie had made something of a token effort for her father’s sake, but new ‘step-mummy’ wasn’t particularly receptive, a right little gold-digging bitch! All I know is that Sophie keeps her locked up along with various other toys in the basement of her villa. A lovely old place I’m told overlooking the Aegean. I know that she is still there, but beyond that, nothing. Sophia isn’t given to gossip. 

“Me neither” I assured her.

Mandy laughed again. “Don’t worry. I think you are in a vastly different league to that money-grabbing deluded little fool. Anyway, given that Robert and I live less than an hours drive from here, we decided to bring your last order over personally. The PO address was a bit of a nuisance, but Robert said he’d plant the idea that as it had urgent stamped all over it, they might like to call or text you. We simply sat in the window seat of the local pub with a bar meal and waited till you showed and Bob, don’t ever call him that by the way, he hates it! He simply drove after you and caught you at your gate, serendipity my dear Sherlock.”

I made a wry face. “OK. It’s a fair cop; you got me bang to rights, ma’am!” We both laughed.

“Yes, well on a more serious note since we are talking of cops, anything untoward likely to interfere or deprive you of your  ownership of these fine new animals?” 

I shook my head. “Nope. Highly unlikely. Both illegal foreign farmworkers. Nothing in the news, or local papers, nothing at all. I doubt if they have even been reported missing, or ever will be. Maybe there will be questions asked back in their home county at some stage, but by then the trail will have been cold for a long time”.

Mandy nodded approvingly. “Illegals are so useful in that respect. One wonders whether Brexit will make it better or worse when it comes to adding to one's stock? I always….” Her phone beeped at that point interrupting, and she paused to check it then tapped out a brief message. 

“Bob, Robert I should say, just checking up on me”. I sent him a quick message before entering your stable. Mandy gave a short laugh.  “He’s just making sure that I have not ended up occupying one of your empty stalls! You do intend to add more stock I assume?

Strange, I thought once more. Those silly casual thoughts that I had amused myself with earlier when I’d driven to the village to collect my parcel. Idle fantasy speculation yet now…..now not at all speculative as I looked at the serious face of my visitor.  

I blinked. It was a question I was utterly unprepared for or hadn’t even though about beyond those idle fantasy thoughts of an hour or two ago. Hell, I’d only just got Beauty and Fluffy and I had barely started breaking and training them. More? How many months had I spent thinking about and planning to acquire just one ponygirl and three-quarters of that had been mere masturbatory fantasy? More!

Mandy popped the remaining portion of her latest biscuit into her mouth and absently selected another, but her eyes never left my face with that questioning look in them. She was quite serious, and a sudden thought struck me. Was there some sort of ranking system maybe based on how many captive creatures you owned? Was I going to be bottom of the pervert league! Was that her concern? I remembered something from one of those tedious ‘flip-chart’ management courses a few years ago. Struggling to think of an answer during an interview, do the politicians favourite trick, turn the question around and throw it straight back!

“How many do you own?” I asked bluntly.

Mandy laughed and pretended to think even going so far as to pantomime counting upon her fingers.  “Sixteen” she finally announced. “Sixteen jointly, I own ten and Robert has six”.

Once again, I was conscious of my jaw-dropping as I stared at her in amazement. “Sixteen!” I echoed aloud.

“Uh-huh, ponies that is. You can add on another half dozen if you count the house slaves and pets as well”.

She laughed at my expression. “Our little pile of bricks isn’t all that little. Roberts ancestral home to be precise and runs to about forty plus rooms more or less. You don’t imagine that I spend all my time pushing a vacuum cleaner, do you?”

I shook my head awed by the casual way she’d said it and trying to get my head around the logistics of such a setup and if every one of them was a captive, sheesh! I had to ask even though I knew what the answer would be.

“Of course, silly, why would we want it any other way? ‘Willing masochists’, don’t be silly”.  She looked at my awed expression and laughed. “Do close your mouth dear before I tumble down that big hole as my mother used to say. I own ten, and my husband has six. We both have our individual preferences, of course. He likes handsome cute firm butted young ponyboys to run as a pair pulling his sulky around the estate. There are various places where he can stop and play when he gets randy.  Mind you I don’t think he’s ever got to the farthest one yet without having buggered one or even both of them en route!

Apart from the four colts he has also acquired two massive stallions, I mean massive as well, heavens the sheer size of those primitive beasts, all muscle and raw brute strength. Absolute monsters compared to his lithesome young colts. He must have worn out a good half dozen whips on that pair, and they’re still half-feral. You should see the leg irons he’s got on them; you could moor up a battleship with them.”

“They sound dangerous.”

“Dangerous, I'll say they are. All our ponies are dangerous, even the most docile given half a chance would turn on us in a flash, so we make damn sure that chance never arises. That savage pair of animals, Sampson and Hercules could probably rip him to pieces with their bare hands in an instant! God, they literally radiate hate!”

“Why does he keep them then?”

Mandy smiled. “Why do any of us keep them. Power, of course. Power and control, absolute and total control, plus other reasons. Robert is not a very tall man, even in my bare feet, I can top him easily. Nor the most muscular. Don’t get me wrong, he’s no weakling, far from it and what he lacks in height is more than compensated by what nature endowed between his legs. Way too big and virile for me unless I am in the appropriate mood, but I’m fortunate that he has other tastes.”

“His cute ponyboys?”

“Got it on one.”

 “So, what does he use the big ones for, racing?”

Mandy chuckled and shook her head. “Nah, way too big, too slow and far too clumsy. No, like I said it’s about power, power and control. There isn’t enough of him to make up even half of one of them, yet he is the one in charge, the owner, the master, the tamer of wild beasts, and there isn’t a damn thing those brutes can do about it. No doubt they are aware of the irony, named after legendary strongmen but he has also ensured that they are helpless and impotent. He uses them like beasts for manual labour, hauling huge logs or yoked to a plough or farm cart, meaningless tasks half of the time, but they have no choice but to comply, his whips ensures that”

I nodded, my eyes becoming distant as I took in what she was saying and various exciting images stored on my hard drive came to mind. Maybe Beauty would find herself put to work hauling some of that accumulated rubbish outside down to a suitable collection point.

“Of course” Mandy continued, “using a whip or whatever always gets one so randy” she paused to point over at little Fluffy, “judging from that animal's sore rump you will have found that out and presumably used the bitch to satisfy yourself. Bob likewise. He just loves to work those sweaty brutes to the point of exhaustion, beat one it until it is on the point of collapse, then unleash his enormous dick to sodomise the brute. The master and the mastered. The colossus humbled, humiliated and degraded by another great erect behemoth!”

“Size does matter then” I quipped.

“Sorry,” Mandy apologised wiping her mouth again a few moments later after I’d mopped the table with several pieces of kitchen towel. My sense of humour had triggered hers just as she was taking a mouthful of coffee as she finished speaking and immediately spluttered everywhere.

“No harm done, my fault really for setting you off, but what about you, your ponies? Do you really have ten?”

“Yo, as they used to say in the cavalry. My tastes run more to speed along with grace, style and beauty as opposed to my husbands more basic preferences for brute force and buggery!” she admitted. “I have a couple of matched chariot pairs that I race. I love training two ponies to move as one, two fast leggy racing singletons and of course, dressage is my other passion. The grace and elegance of a beautiful pony performing a perfect routine to music and the crack of my whip. My interest in pairs extends to that area as well. My champion set, a pair of identical twins and my newest acquisitions still very raw, a mother and daughter set.

“Really?”

“Yes, going to be a bit of a challenge given the age but then that’s part of the attraction. Fortunately, mummy was careless and got herself knocked up quite young, but I can see why, the filly is just eighteen and a real honey while the mare is only thirty-five and still looks good, more like an older sister. I know they will thrill the spectators when in competition with the more usual performers. Still at the basic stage though and they both need to shed a few kilo’s to look their best, mummy in particular. ”

“That sounds so...so exotic and so...”

‘Wicked?” Mandy laughed. “Give me a few months to whip them into shape, literally I might add. Get the routine perfected, the makeup right, and they will look as good as my twins, better maybe given the background. But yes, deliciously wicked!”.

“Yes, but in a mind-bogglingly sexy way.”

“Mmmm” Mandy murmured looking out of the window at something more in her mind than outside. “They will be divine performing in the show ring and goodness, oh so different. However it was a tough decision, should I add them to stable or house? I could have made good use of them in more intimate ways, imagine, an attractive mother-daughter combination in ones bed!” She finished with a slightly regretful sigh.

I frowned puzzled. “You still could, I mean....” I stopped as Mandy shook her head and made a flapping motion with one hand.

“No,” she said emphatically, “I could not. I am not Bob, nor am I Elenor Braithwaite,  she is my biggest rival by the way both on the track and in the show ring. A miserable sour-faced old hag I’d advise staying well clear of her. Once in my stable my ponies… ”  She broke off as her phone vibrated demanding her attention for a second time.

I waited while her long elegant fingers tapped out a response. “Robert again” she paused to glance down at the cell phone then tapped once to send. “Getting a bit impatient, he’s like that. I remember our wedding night, god it was like getting hit by a freight train; fortunately, I have managed to slow him down a bit over the years, although I doubt his ponyboys would thank me for extending their misery” she grinned.

I gestured towards her mug and the biscuit plate she’d single-handedly emptied again. “Would you…”…

“No, better not. I can’t keep my Big Bob, don’t you ever call him that either honey, not to his face. I can’t keep him waiting any longer, not after a week in Germany away from his ponies, so boy will the unlucky ones get well pounded tonight. I told him to pick me up at the bottom of your drive in about half an hour. Come on, let's go revisit your splendid animal and I’ll give you a hand with those ultra-expensive hoof boots you bought. Much easier with two of us to do it. Let us see how the splendid beast looks! Will, she appreciate your generosity I wonder?”

We both laughed as we got up from the table.