Chapter Six
I raised my whip hand, held steady for a second while I aimed, and then flicked it forward. I was nowhere near as accomplished with it as young Suzy beside me, but I made up for that by repeating my action on Lucy’s left buttock. I’d already left my mark on the right one more than once since we had set off likewise with Glenda’s tempting rump. Both ponies, I noted, were relatively free from fresh corrective marks, so I had two, well, not precisely pristine targets given the old scars but temporarily unblemished animal rumps to feel the painful caress of my whip!
Suzy had so nonchalantly yet expertly curled the tip of the long carriage whip to kiss one large right udder and one smaller sized left udder as she motivated the ponies she’d chosen for our brief journey to start us off. Once moving, she’d suddenly chuckled and said, ‘why should she have all the fun instead of the guest’ and promptly passed both whip and reins over to me. “Anyway, I’m a lazy little bitch!” She finished with a big grin.
I was heading home, back to my pony, back to my reality from this crazy fantasyland. Mandy had apologised and excused herself as she was expecting an important Skype call from Bob and told Suzy to harness up a trap and take me back to my car at the end of an exceptionally delightful and exciting visit to her amazing establishment. Research or otherwise! The hug on the front steps had been fine, but I thought she’d overdone the parting kiss a little. Hell, we were saying goodbye or perhaps more aptly ‘au revoir’, not about to leap into bed together! Although from some of the things she’d told me as clearly as bisexual as her husband, Bob was with his pretty ponyboys!
Then again, I thought, giving the reins a quick shake to remind the two ponies that I was in charge, although perhaps my whip had just rendered that action unnecessary. That lingering kiss seemed par for the course throughout the whole estate: sexual hedonism and sadism, a heady combination. I’d earlier watched Judith savagely flog a ponyboy with her cane into near insensibility till Mandy called a halt to the clearly aroused though disappointed girl.
All the S’s I reflected. Sex, sadism and sensuality. My head crammed full with the sights, sounds, smells, and I suppose a whole lot of squeals and suffering that I’d seen during my visit, and I knew that today would be but the first of many such visits. Mandy had made it clear that I now had an open invitation any time I wanted. If she and Bob weren’t there, then the girls would be only too happy to entertain me.
Happy and entertain being the keywords. Yes, I was sure that they would be delighted to include those two words in any program they might devise for me, although their charges would certainly not be happy to provide that entertainment! I wondered how Mandy was able to recruit such girls, another question among the many that I’d meant to ask and would now have to wait till another time. She had remarked in passing. “These pretty young girls I have working for me. I pay them well, but I know they would all work for nothing such is the delight they take in their work and that work as we both know is thoroughly evil, and yet they relish it!”
Apart from Sarah, who’d appeared to be in her early thirties or so, the others were all much younger. Suzy sitting so demurely beside me, hardly looked a day over eighteen and a couple of the others not much older. Maddy presumably still on ‘guard duty’ at the main gate. Judith and her friend Heather who was away visiting her family in the North, and the unfortunate Sandra.
I realised what Maddy had meant earlier by ‘in the stalls’ when Mandy introduced me to her, the first stall we’d visited after witnessing Poppy’s severe punishment. Mandy had laughed as she waved her hand at the enclosure. “No, Honey, don’t go getting any wrong ideas in your pretty head. No, they are not all like this one. Don’t think for one moment that this is an example of standard accommodation on offer to all my ponies!”
The stall was undoubtedly spacious, a double one I learnt, but this one had a clean floor with a grey vinyl covering, a comfortable single bed complete with a duvet and pillow and a stainless steel toilet plumbed into one corner. A harnessed ponygirl was sitting on the bed looking very bored, immediately rising to her hoofs and approached as Mandy beckoned from the low doorway. I noticed that she was not tightly bitted, nor was her pretty freckled face overly obscured by the simple head harness. She gave me a rueful little welcoming smile.
Mandy introduced me to Sandra. “‘Doing her penance for letting that idiotic overzealous sales rep in without an escort, foolish girl! A case of the old ASS-U-ME, eh Sandra. Just because we were expecting someone else. Never assume anything, silly!” Mandy explained that every girl who works at the stable had to spend the first-fortnight experiencing life as a pony. However, the accommodation and diet are somewhat less spartan, likewise the attendant corrective regime. “Turn around please, Sandra”.
The girl obediently did as ordered. I noted that her smooth white bottom displayed none of the old scars I’d seen on other ponies, but it did have a couple of recent vivid red weals on the left cheek, and the right was bright rosy red. Mandy had laughed and lent forward to remove the girl's bit. “Who did that, Suzy, I’ll wager?”
Sandra had nodded. “Yes, Ma’am, little bitch!”
“Well, the good news is that I’m giving you parole. Sarah will free you later, and you can resume your duties!”
Sandra had squealed with delight at that news as we turned away. Mandy explained that though they lived as ponies during punishment or acclimatisation, they had better facilities, a bed and bedding, a proper toilet, although they’d have to use their mouths to pull the flush chain, she’d laughed at that one. Also, getting their faces into a trough to drink and eat! The other girls took turns in grooming, and they could be punished as well, but not severely—one or two painful but lightish strokes of the cane every other day and a dusting with the paddle daily if merited.
“If merited?” I’d queried.
Mandy had laughed, and Sandra gave me a wry grin. “Oh, I leave them to use their own judgement on that one. When and if the naughty pony gets her bottom smacked !’ she said with a knowing wink. “I find that having spent time as a pony, they have a better understanding that encourages tolerance on the one hand when required and, on the other, a better awareness of when to use serious correction on a lazy or disobedient animal. They know what is achievable and what is not. Likewise, an appreciation of the effect of such discipline. Although there are some differences of opinion as to what ‘light and dusting’ means, she’d finished with a chuckle.”
I’d admitted to experimenting similarly with crop and cane on myself, briefly! I also asked her if it was customary for them to punish each other; didn’t that lead to bitchy type problems?. Mandy had chuckled again at that. “Oh, they are all bitches, Honey, every one of them. I wouldn’t employ them if they weren’t! It keeps them all on their toes. None of them wants to occupy that stall and be subject to the others. I can positively guarantee that Sandra will not fuck up again, not for a while anyway. It's part of the job, and they all rub along pretty well. Sarah is the only one excused. Bad for discipline, etc! Same with me.”
Our progress wasn't all that fast, so I cast a quick sideways glance at Suzy, but she was sitting back, relaxed and seemed unconcerned, totally absorbed in some faraway thought process of her own as we trotted along the road. I flicked out with the whip just for the fun of hearing those muted squeals, then thought back to Mandy’s confession.
“Sarah and I have known each other for a long time. If I feel it necessary, I invite her for a little private disciplinary session over at the house. Likewise, suppose she feels that I may have made a serious error. In that case, I get a similar invite to her bedroom in the stable apartment to, err, discuss it’ Mandy had laughed and added, ‘we can be very comforting to each other as well afterwards!”
That seemed to say a lot about life there, I thought, casting another sideways glance at my young companion. I’d seen her busily raking the stable floor while Sarah delivered some chastisement to a pony in a nearby stall. One moment she was busy with the rake; the next, she was squealing and giggling as Sarah emerged and grabbed the smaller girl groping her all over. Buttocks, belly, breasts all being fondled as her face was forced upwards to meet the greedy descending lips that clamped down to silence her girlish squeals.
“Stable fun and games, ’ Mandy had remarked without so much as a raised eyebrow! “Chastising an unruly pony often makes Sarah somewhat randy!” She’d paused and winked at me, then shouted to the two girls. “Hey Sarah, leave Suzy alone; she’s still got work to do. Go and release Sandra and get her out of that harness tack. Take her upstairs to do it if you want; I imagine she’ll be ever so grateful to you!”
Our tour of her amazing facility had continued as Mandy proudly showed off her impressive collection of hapless captive human equines stall by stall. To say I’d been impressed would have been an understatement. I was astounded in equal measure at the occupant's misery and her absolute mastery of the creatures she had so casually and so cruelly stabled.
The four slim young ponyboys housed in their respective stalls, three of them standing dumbly patient by the stainless steel feed and water troughs tethered by a short lead to their posture collars. Hair and harness damp from the hosing down and grooming they had received after their recent outing except for the quietly sobbing Poppy, who was securely fastened face down bent over a low frame in his stall. A crook handle bamboo cane dangled just a few inches from his head and well within his line of vision.
A leaving present no doubt from Miss Judith once she’d returned him to his stall after we’d witnessed his punishment. Doubtlessly the very same implement that she had wielded so expertly and with such evident enthusiasm across his squirming rump just a little earlier. Patricia had not been impressed by the ponies pathetic attempts to resist the inevitable nor with his foolish verbal outpouring once Judith had released his mouth bit. Her preference, not mine, Mandy had told me.
“All my girls adore hearing these headstrong, foolish young colts squeal and beg far more than they do the mares and fillies. The stable cane mercilessly wielded by a young feminine hand soon deprives the beasts of any pretensions of masculine pride they might still harbour!” Consequently, she’d told Judith to leave him for ten minutes or so, then strap him over a mating bench in his stall and give him another dozen later before evening feeding time.
I would have loved to have lingered far longer in that colossal building, but Mandy had her mind on the proposed little jaunt she’d mentioned and accompanying late lunch. I think she was a touch peeved that I hadn't arrived earlier, but to my recollection, I had told her on the phone, mid to late morning, probably the latter. Consequently, I was rushed from stall to stall far too quickly. If her intention as the proud owner had been to show off her impressive collection of captive two-legged equines, she failed somewhat. I was hustled around way too quickly to fully appreciate most of them.
I felt like I was flicking through an exciting picture book way too fast, the enticing image on every page beckoning alluringly, worthy of much close examination and the questions they raised deserving of answers. I was reminded of my railway journeys back to London after visiting my parents for the weekend. Trying to read the platform name boards flying by in a blur of jumbled letters as the express hurtled through the many outlying little suburban stations rushing towards the terminus.
We started okay. First, the more oversized stalls housing two ponies, the tall, beautiful silver-blonde identical Nordic twins in their splendid white working harness, the mother-daughter combination in the adjacent stall. Mandy’s show animals. Her dressage pairs, obviously privileged animals to a certain extent for their stalls, in a way were slightly more akin to the ‘staff stall’ than the others I was to see. Not just more spacious, but there was similar grey vinyl on the floor but no toilet as was immediately evident from several deposits the occupants had left on the floor!
They had beds, narrow metal lattice beds, one on either side with a thin plastic covered mattress on top lacking both pillows or other bedding. I did notice a heater mounted high up, one of those that could either provide heat or double as an air conditioner in sweltering weather. Along the back were open-fronted closets with a selection of different coloured harness items, bits, head plumes, boots and punishment implements.
“More for my convenience”, Mandy laughed, gesturing to the floor. “I spend a lot of time with them hands-on grooming with these duos, and so prefer a cleaner environment underfoot”, then she’d laughed again. “Bar the obvious and unavoidable smelly animal deposits, of course!”
I barely heard. I was still admiring her champion dressage show twins. Identical, tall, wasp-waisted, prominent high udders that jutted proudly above their harness needing zero support. Firm buttocks without the slightest sag, not an ounce of cellulite anywhere to be seen nor surplus flab. Bright, sparkling youthful eyes gazed mournfully back at me, set in their beautiful made-up faces.
“Permanent tattooing,” Mandy said, entering the stall to grab the nearest pony and marching it forward so I could get a better look. “It will fade, of course, in time and probably look quite horrid, but by then, these two animals will be long gone from the show ring and assigned to more onerous and far less glamorous tasks!”
I could only shake my head in admiration, tinged, I might add, with a considerable degree of envy. I mean, my Beauty was a damn impressive filly, but these two were in a different league, a league of their own. Fuck Mandy; one would have been enough for me to go green-eyed but to own two of them, two such gorgeous young creatures, two!
Mandy released the bridle and pointed to three framed gold rosettes on the wall. “Three big shows so far and three golds, pretty darn good, although it’ll get more challenging now that they are so well known on the circuit. I probably got the first couple mostly just on appearance, but I’m going to have to up their routine in future I expect to keep them competitive.
I could see what she meant, for if ever an artist needed a perfect model for a ponygirl painting, just one of these beauties would have more than fulfilled the criteria. Hell, even the most obsessive and demanding brush wielder would have been delighted. Just looking at them made me catch my breath, and if I had been judging, they’d be 10/10 scored before the music even started, let alone the first crack of Mandy’s dressage whip!
“Nineteen, coming up to twenty now”, Mandy answered the question clearly posed on my lips, “and no, don’t ask where from, how so or how much, either” She grinned. “Nearly divorce time for your truly though when the bill came in! Mind you, the offers I’ve had for them! Come on, lots more animals to see yet.”
“Wait, they are so smooth and the skin, so smooth, so pale and yet not so. It is hard to describe how it sort of almost shimmies in the light to match their silver-blonde hair. Dyed hair, I suppose?”
Mandy shook her head. “Nope, not those long manes anyway. Natural silver-blonde, the pair of them, was the first thing that caught my eye—never seen hair like that on anyone so young. It always reminds me of a mountain waterfall sparkling in the sun. Soft too” She grabbed the ponies bridle again and walked her forward, twisting her grip forcing the ponies head downwards. “I spend hours just brushing them both, and every three days, I loosen that headpiece to pull the latest growth through. Hurts like hell, but I like to keep it as tight as I can!”
She was right, silky soft, and so long. Unlike the other ponies I’d seen so far, these two had been spared the Mohican cut in favour of their long tresses tightly swept up to a leather cone that crowned their bridle. The cone was high, at least six inches long, thinning out at the top where the silver silken strands erupted into a high silvery ponytail to fall gracefully down the animals back.
The statuesque sisters must have topped near six feet with their slim, shapely bodies and long legs that could give my Beauty an inch or two. Add in the height of their booted hoofs and crowning it all that high silver cascade, they were a perfect pair of slender young Amazons. I saw the twinkle in Mandy’s eyes as she looked at them. Impressive Amazons might be but captive and harnessed; they were the helpless prisoners and possessions of a cruel warrior queen and would never again know freedom!
Noticing my evident fascination, Mandy released the pony and walked over to the storage area returning with a couple of objects in her hands. “Skincare regime,” she said. In one hand, she held a wooden handle supporting an eighteen inch long oval of thick pliable rubber and in the other a standard spray bottle containing some opaque think looking liquid that did have a sort of sparkle to it as she shook it.
“Most of the time, this rubber slapper or similar is used on their hides. Ordinarily, I appreciate the sight of whip scarred pony flesh but not on pretty show animals. Not out of compassion,” she smirked, “but more practical reasons. Judges like to see absolute instant obedience but are swift to knock marks off for disfigured animals through over corrective use of the lash. Pristine perfection is the order of the day, and a good deal of the skill and challenge is to get them to perform without resorting to the more usual if brutal training methods!”
“Of course, that doesn’t excuse them entirely. Naturally, in the early days, they are exposed to the normal brutalities of pony life. Later one just had to be far more careful both initially and during the intervals between displaying them. Especially these two pretty and highly expensive beasts, you’ll have noted their gleaming white hides!
I nodded. “Certainly eye-catching. What do you feed the poor things on, luminous paint and batteries?” I joked, looking at the two ponies whose hides did have an almost luminescent quality to them.
Mandy laughed. “Not quite, although they might welcome a change of diet. I never allow anyone else to chastise these beauties, and as I said, I am extra careful” she tossed the rubber slapper onto a shelf and used the free hand to rove over the nearest pony, which I noted made no attempt to shy away. “This gorgeous pony flesh is far too valuable to sully with unsightly marks and scars. There will be plenty of time for her to earn those stripes in the future when she’s no longer cavorting in the show ring.
Mandy gave the pony one last pat on its left udder and waved the spray bottle she was holding in my face. “A little known mixture an old friend suggested to me. Used in the nineteen twenties and thirties, I believe, by certain silly flappers who wanted to make themselves stand out from the crowd. It never caught on big time because it’s acid-based, stings like buggery for a day or two, and then makes the skin go beetroot red and very itchy. No doubt it would have been declared illegal immediately! It certainly scared the shit out of me when I used it on one of Bob’s pretty boys to test it. Poor creature, all it wanted to do was tear its skin off, couldn’t, of course, but I had to move it to the middle of a stall and tether it by its neck to stop it rolling in the dirt or rubbing itself raw against the brickwork. Naturally, I’ve experimented and refined the mixture a bit!”
I looked from the innocent plastic spray bottle she was holding, which still retained the readable remains of its original label as a container for a well-known household cleaner. “Experimented?”
“Yeah” Mandy looked down and shook the bottle. “Bob went wild when he saw what I’d done to one of his favourites, but fortunately, those initial effects wear off after a few days but leave that delightful sheen on their hides plus making the skin that bit more soft and sensitive. A helpful bonus when I use the various rubber slappers on them.
I was amused to see that both ponies had suddenly retreated as far from their cruel owner as their tethers allowed, nor were they looking at her but rather that simple spray bottle she was waving around. I got the distinct impression that the rubber slappers held few terrors compared to the contents of that seemingly harmless item!
“Took a few months”, Mandy elaborated. “But I was fair; I spread my little tests around the entire herd perfecting it. These two,” she jerked her head, “of course now hate it probably more than anything else I do to them. The first batch’s I mixed tended not to last and faded in a day or two. Trial and error, eh ponies, but I’m pretty happy with what I finally ended up with.”
“How long does it last?”
Mandy pursed her lips and regarded her two beautiful twin ponygirls thoughtfully. “I buff them up every three weeks. A couple of the girls help me strip them, and then we lube them all over. Have to be careful, make sure we wear gloves and aprons, of course. The silly creatures still wriggle like crazy, which doesn’t help, so it's entirely their own fault if a few drops slip into tender places where you wouldn’t want to be burning and itching!”
“The downside is that the initial effect is slightly more severe than the original, likewise the itchy period, but then I do get two and a bit weeks with them looking so beautiful that it’s a chore worth doing. If we have a show coming up, I increase the strength a bit, and they get a double treatment a few days apart. So far, I’ve not noticed any long term effects, but who knows?” she finished with a careless shrug.
I leant against the door to the stall, looking at my companion's thoughtful face. Then switched to the two ponygirls who managed to given an impression of cowering back submissively even though they both still stood tall and proud as no doubt Mandy had painfully schooled into them. ‘Who knows’, she’d said and so casually said it! Thank heavens I stood on this side of the stall as she emerged to join me and not the other wearing one of Mandy’s pony harnesses on the other side!