Chapter eight
Mandy had been right; I should have gone back along the same route I came. Never ignore local advice! Those utility road works around the village took forever to get through, with all those portable bloody traffic lights seemingly stuck on red everywhere. Why did they need to dig all the fucking holes at once, I wondered. It must have created a nightmare for the local delivery drivers. Anyway, not my problem, I reflected as I said goodbye to the queue as the final one grudgingly turned green and headed for the main highway home.
I now regretted not setting off much earlier in the day and spending far more time at Mandy’s fantastic place. What a fool I’d been. My own fault for getting up late after a night of pleasure with little Fluffy and then spending time in the stable with Beauty before setting off. Jeez, to think that I had almost phoned Mandy and made an excuse to cancel, and I was thankful now that I hadn’t. What a day I’d had? What a delightful day. Incredible, unbelievable!
I consoled myself with the thought that Mandy had repeated her invitation to come and stay for a few days at least twice. The second time almost as an order to report along with my ponygirl to harness her to a cart and give her a good run out! I got the distinct impression that Mandy rather disapproved of the somewhat sedentary life my pony might otherwise lead at my modest facility.
There was something else on my mind as well, little Sally. I gathered from what Mandy had told me she didn’t live there full time. Although I’d only been with her for a few minutes, I’d felt strangely drawn to that delightful diminutive doll-like woman. It wasn't just because of her masterful handling of those massive beasts, Hercules and Sampson, with such accomplished ease either. I couldn’t exactly say why but watching the tiny woman had stirred something deep within me that wasn’t just confined to my clitoris. I could not remember the last time anyone had generated such emotions and certainly the first by a member of my own sex.
I was momentarily distracted by some idiot in a white van sounding his horn. Impatient fool, I thought as I slowed and pulled into the side to let the van behind overtake and accelerate into the distance before returning to my mental thread. Perhaps my recent highly pleasurable experiences with little Fluffy had triggered something, or maybe it was just something that had been dormant within me. After all, I reflected, it had been that image of a ponygirl that I’d accidentally come across that had sent me down this exhilarating path. All those images and stories I’d subsequently collected, ninety per cent plus, had focussed on ponygirls rather than boys, hadn’t they!
I remembered something Mandy had said as we drank our wine sitting in the sun on that hilltop while our sweaty ponies cooled off. She’d pointed down the hill into the distance. “Looks like Sally’s giving those two brutes a real workout today. I doubt that they’ll be good for anything tomorrow, so she’ll be complaining again that we need to add a few more such beasts to our collection” she laughed and then reached for her drink. “To your next pony”, she had toasted, raising her wine glass. “one such animal is never enough!”.
I wished she hadn’t said that, for I couldn’t evict her words from my head; hell, she was so right. It wasn’t so much that Beauty was a disappointment or that I was already bored with her, far from it, but the limitations imposed by just having access to one pony were so downright frustrating in one practical respect.
I was lucky, fortunate that I had two animals. I mean, shit, let's face it, way luckier than I deserved to be, considering how many things could have gone wrong when I set about acquiring them. That was something Mandy had also implied a couple of times discreetly. She hadn’t revealed much, but I strongly suspected that those who supplied her human equine needs would have been very disapproving of my ham-fisted methods of filling a stall with a reluctant harnessed occupant!
I had been very lucky, and I doubted that I would ever be able to get away with such a blatant criminal act again. Equally, I doubted if I’d ever have the courage to do such a daring thing again! I still couldn’t believe that I had done what I’d done. Given what I’d already achieved, it would be foolish to take such a chance anyway, wouldn’t it?
Yet another reason to berate myself for not taking up Mandy’s initial offer of a more extended stay when I first had the chance. I felt sure that she would have revealed far more to me over a few days, been much more open about such things. That thought made me chuckle. A little chat about kidnappings and kidnappers over our morning coffee, perhaps!
One thing I did know was that I had the bug, and it had bitten deep. Like Mandy, I was now an owner, albeit a modest one. I had my own human equine stalled, bitted, harnessed and one hundred per cent dependent on me and subject to my whims, of course! My one-time wishful fantasy had become a reality, I was addicted, and I knew that just like any addict, my craving for more would only increase over time.
My thought’s revolved around the subject most of the way home. The difference between now and a few months ago, from an intense masturbation fantasy upon a subject with which I had become obsessed, to full practical day to day living reality. A Pony reality that brought with it a host of problems I’d naturally ignored during my frenzied sessions of sexual self-gratification with the aid of my little buzzing pink plastic sex toy!
One advantage of sitting in a traffic queue waiting on some obdurate tri-colour light’s feeble electronic brain to recognise that there is absolutely nothing in sight coming from the opposite direction, fuck! Well, at least you could disengage a sizeable portion of your brain and divert it to more entertaining topics.
Had I rushed way too quickly into human equine ownerships? No, not really. I’d prepared pretty thoroughly, hadn’t I? Spent a whole heap of money on a foolish fantasy unlikely to be fulfilled, on wishful thinking, on what if’s! In retrospect, an awful lot of money, yet as nothing, I suspected compared to what Mandy’s place must have cost must still cost in day-to-day expenses.
How much did she pay her stable girls? Hadn’t someone, one of the girls or Mandy herself, said they’d probably be happy to work there for no pay? I couldn’t remember my mind still being in something of a whirl, but I could understand exactly what they meant. Fuck, the entire place was a sadists paradise!
Nor had I seen it all. Mandy had hinted at other things, even apologising for that fact. At one point during lunch, I’d mentioned little Fluffy, which prompted Mandy to reply, but she’d been too quick and enthusiastic, almost choking on the portion of sandwich she’d hastily swallowed. When she’d finished spluttering, I gathered that she had a kennel of her own behind the house that I must see next time.
Thinking back upon what I’d already seen, I doubted that the kennel by itself would be the main attraction! Christ, but she had some operation going, didn’t she? My thoughts switched to my small farm and its two unwilling occupants running things through my mind, a short checklist.
Stable security, check. Stall, check. Site security, probably a semi check. Mandy had given me the name of the company she used and again strongly suggested I add a few more electronic refinements. Harness and kit, check, although I intended to add many more items. The rest included training, day to day management, feeding, toileting, cleaning and general maintenance, all part of my ongoing learning and experimentation process.
I chuckled to myself, thinking back to those damn traffic lights. Well, at least I need not worry about low flying bloody helicopters and attendant warning systems, need I. That thought prompted a giggle but quickly stifled. Hell, who was I to criticise? Mandy had one hell of an operation going and one hell of a vast estate. I was a mere idiot who’d relied heavily on luck and still had weaknesses in my security setup.
Maybe on reflection, I could also benefit from that apparent, apparent what? What would be a good word or term for something you thought perhaps ‘more than a little over the top?’ Excessive, over-elaborate, ostentatious. No, not that last one, although maybe you could apply it to Mandy. There was something a touch flashy and showy about her.
Disproportionate perhaps? I did have external areas of my own, though, didn’t I? Plus, the animal had been outside more than once on my improvised pony walker. I had a large paddock, an old orchard and a couple of acres of overgrown woodland. Plenty of cover, still, belt and braces never did any harm, I mused.
Mandy had mentioned those special intruder sensors they used again; now, if I could link those with my cell phone, that would be more useful. Trespassers were my most significant worry, not malevolent media filled helicopters. You could hear those noisy things, whereas some Sunday afternoon hiker or bird spotter hopping over my decayed or non-existent boundary fence would be a different matter.
I was determined to ride my Beauty regularly. I’d enjoyed my first ponygirl carting experience immensely and wanted more, but I also wanted to ride my own pony. My ambitions up to today had been on a relatively modest scale because of such security concerns. Initially, in my mind, I had planned to mount Beauty within the confines of the stable or at most ride her for a couple of circuits around the farmyard.
That carting trip had, unfortunately, or perhaps, fortunately, widened my horizons, making my earlier ambitions look decidedly limited, not to mention boring. My magnificent Beauty was a strong, healthy young animal. Was she not capable of carrying me a reasonable distance, and I did have land available, so why confine myself to such meagre perimeters? Why indeed!
Given that I’d gone from fantasy to reality rather abruptly, I thought I was doing pretty well. Perhaps on reflection, not entirely unexpectedly. I tended to forget all those months dreaming up crazy plans and all that time I’d spent stalking that idiot farmers field and his dilapidated caravans! I gave a little shiver at the recollection of some of those highly impractical wild plans I’d conjured up to obtain a ponygirl. Crazy was a word that sprang immediately to mind.
Thinking along those lines, I realised that one thing was now becoming clear no matter how I looked or tried to deceive myself. Or perhaps two things, but they were inevitably connected, intertwined and inseparable. I was a sadist! That was the simple crux of the matter. I realised it was now an undeniable fact. I was a sadist, a girl who had been on a sexual high from the moment I’d espied Mandy and her captive pony team trotting into sight until the moment I’d given those two ponies that last farewell kiss of my whip as I pulled them to a halt by my car.
And that really was the crux of the matter, I thought, gripping the steering wheel extra tight. Yes, putting Beauty into her harness and Fluffy into her bitch suit, treating them like the animals they now were and would remain. The pain, the humiliations and deprivations they endured at my whim and by my hand were so satisfying, so enjoyable and yet I needed more, and I knew precisely what that ‘more’ entailed. Agony! Absolute pain and suffering. I wanted to be able to flog some wretched creature all day long if the mood took me!
How lucky Mandy was to have so much helpless captive pony flesh at her disposal. So many animals, so much variety to apply her many whips upon whenever the mood took her. Did she ever get bored of it? I wondered, but not for long. No, Mandy would never get bored with it and nor would I given such an opportunity.
On impulse, I reached up and twisted the rearview mirror to see my face, then sighed and pushed it back in position. Okay, so I wasn’t likely to win any beauty contests, was I? Correction, make that none at all! Sheesh, I mean, I was by no means a horror was I and in all the war paint and powder actually not too bad in the looks department, although I said it myself. More than acceptable anyway!
One had to be realistic, though. I was heading for my thirtieth birthday way too fast! Mandy had captured herself a husband with enough millions to his name to set him well on the way to his next multi zero title. However, she had been an established eye-catching top model in her early twenties, from what I’d gathered!
So far, Mandy was the only person I’d met, not counting her stable girls in what was obviously a mega-millionaire…, I paused wondering what the appropriate term would be. Hobby, no, it was more than that, occupation perhaps? No, not really. Lifestyle, I supposed, was the nearest that came readily to mind. Although we’d primarily focused on the stable building, I’d seen enough to know that her natural sadistic dominance and ownership extended beyond the miserable creatures occupying stalls in that building.
I sighed deeply. The number of like-minded people, even on a global basis, I thought, was likely to be exceptionally low and the chances of my finding my own version of a ‘Bob’ probably non-existent! Come to that, did I even want to enter into such a relationship? Apart from one exception, I was perfectly happy with what I already had, and especially now, I’d discovered the delights of having a submissive tongue at my beck and call.
I continued to brood on the ‘one exception’ for several more miles. I wasn’t a pauper by any means. The farm was a valuable property given its size and location, but of course, selling would solve nothing. I had money in the bank and sensible investments, more than enough to cover my simple needs and accumulate month by month adequate interest once rates picked up a little.
I hadn’t asked one key question, had I? Another mental note to myself for the next time I met Mandy. How much did a two-legged pony cost, on average? I remembered what she’d said about her latest unique pair. Sheesh, I expected that even some worn-out old nag would involve many zeroes on the price tag.
That sort of sum just to fill one empty stall, and I had five. Not quite one for every day of the week, I giggled, then another thought occurred. Not all those Animals Mandy had stabled belonged to her, did they. Maybe I should open a sort of equivalent to the local kennels or cattery, board other people’s ponies while they were on holiday or whatever?
I giggled again at the ridiculous idea. Entertaining but impractical. Anyway, the sort of people who could afford to own human equines almost certainly would have the means and staff to cover such situations. Those who were stabled with Mandy were there permanently, as I understood it and because she had the expertise, security and facilities inside and outside necessary for keeping and exercising such valuable animals.
As I turned off the approach road and accelerated onto the dual carriageway, my mind was already drifting back to the recent stable tour. My ageing little hatchback wasn’t fitted with cruise control, but that didn’t apply to my head; fortunately, this stretch of highway was rarely bustling with traffic.
I couldn’t even remember the names of those ponies we’d looked at last. Mandy had rushed me around far too quickly to fully savour all the miserable creatures she held captive in that terrible yet wonderful stable of hers. She was so set on getting me outside and whipping a pony towards our lunch destination that even the sex’s of the last couple we’d visited might have presented problems. A case of blink, and I’d have missed them!
It didn’t because I knew she was only interested in mares and filly’s, and I’d already seen the male occupants of the stable earlier on. She still managed to catch me by surprise, though, as our whirlwind rush abruptly halted as we headed for the exit opposite the one we’d entered the building—the one facing the big house where she’d parked the carriage when we arrived.
A ponyboy hung suspended from a roof beam, his hoofs barely touching the dirt floor, swinging slightly as he endeavoured to achieve a better foothold for stability. The ponies rump cheeks a bruised mass of purple and red wheals oozing tendrils of blood. I recognised Poppy, the one who’d received that brutal caning earlier, as he swayed slightly upon the restraining rope fastened to the lower part of his armbinder, causing him to adopt a forward-leaning position.
Jessicas smiling face appeared over the door to his stall. “That bastard made a right mess in here the moment I removed his tail. Talk about a dam bursting! I thought it best to get him out of here while I clean it all up. Jeez, but he’s a stinker! I took the liberty of giving him a few more strokes for being such a filthy animal, ma’am.”
She was right. I’d noticed the smell as we walked up. Could one pony make that much of a stink? Hell, much as I relished that distinct aroma of captive pony, that was overdoing it by a mile. Maybe I’d better look at my ventilation system again when I got back! However, my companion seemed oblivious to it, merely acknowledging Jessica’s actions with an approving wave of her hand as we stopped by the pony.
Mandy seemed to have forgotten her urgency to rush us both towards lunch. I’d noticed that she could be somewhat impulsive, and now Poppy had captured her immediate attention. Did she favour him in some way, I wondered? She certainly hadn’t shown much interest in respect of the other colts she’d shown me, I’d noted. Maybe it was because he was a newcomer to the stable?
“Poor silly Poppy, she’d cooed softly while gently stroking the gasping, sobbing pain-wracked ponies head. We haven’t had a chance to get to know each other yet, have we what with my Bob monopolising you so much to dance on his splendid cock, but then you are his ponyboy, are you not? Such a short memory, though, eh pony? I warned you this morning did I not before we set off that I would not tolerate any foolish nonsense from you. There are no allowances here for newbies. You felt my whip did you not yet you choose to continue being such a silly billy, and now all you have to show for your rebellious attitude is a red-hot blistered bottom and filthy shit covered hind legs. The pony winced loudly into his refastened bit as her other hand reached around to rub that tortured bleeding rump.
Foolish, she repeated, still gently stroking his head. Very silly, for there is no escape from your new life, Poppy, no escape ever, and I think you are beginning to realise that aren’t you, pony. You have no life of your own anymore; you belong to my husband and me. You are ours to do with just as we wish. You are a mere possession, a piece of property, a valuable one, yes – in a way like my expensive sexy silver Porche 911 or my husbands Bentley.”
I watched as she paused while running her long fingernails along the right-hand shaved portion of his scalp, then blew softly, “My my, quite a little snowstorm! You're developing a good crop of dandruff alongside your budding new Mohican cut; you know, pony? I think a wash in cold water, a good scrub with a stiff bristle brush to stimulate the skin and a little baby oil, but where was I? Yes, pony, I know it hurts when I squeeze your blistered bot bot but remember that splendid animal rump belongs to me now. Belongs to me and to my whip, and in time the hurt will lessen”. Then she laughed and winked at me before adding, “well, perhaps not, we’ll just have to hit that much harder as your hide toughens up. A little extra effort on our part, but don’t worry; we don’t mind!” she laughed.
“Yes, property Poppy, just like my beautiful car, although obviously, I endeavour not to damage my expensive motor whereas you, on the other hand, are a slightly different proposition. Unfortunately for you, your value lies in the fact that you are here to be damaged. That, among other things, of course, as you have already found out, a possession that will continually suffer at our behest.
Indeed those days when your animal hide does not feel the savage kiss of bamboo, wood or leather upon it will be few and far between. Pain, I’m afraid, as you have discovered, is a daily fact of life here. Behave, learn, obey, and maybe you will earn such rare days more often. However, today alas, is not to be one of those my fine but unruly animal!
An animal Poppy, no longer a man, but an animal for that is how I see you, how my beautiful young stable girls see you, how my visitor here sees you, how my husband sees you, well, almost in his case! But then you know all about accomodating his not so little additional amusements, don’t you, Poppy! Do not expect sympathy, for there will be none, nor leniency. You have been here long enough now to know the reality of that, to have seen my other splendid animals and how we treat them and what is expected of them. Whether you come to terms with your new life matters not one jot to me or anyone here, you will obey without question, without thought, without sense of self to perform as we demand or suffer immediate and painful consequences.
Poppy had raised his head and stared at me in despair as she continued to gently stroke and verbally torment him. Sad brown eyes damp with tears of pain and shame at his weakness and humiliation. A proud, headstrong youth brought low by his owners and the cruel application of a cane in the practised hand of a girl hardly older than himself! A girl who’d made him dance and scream, beg, bawl and blub like a newborn baby as she gleefully flogged him.
The pain had made him forget his audience, but now he stared at me with such a pitiful look in those sad pleading eyes that for a moment, he seemed almost pure animal, like a terrified puppy, and I was almost tempted for a moment to help the poor despairing creature!
An urge I resisted, of course choosing instead to smile sweetly at him and walked forward to lift his chin on my palm and look him full in the face enjoying that change of expression as whatever faint hopes he’d harboured faded at my mocking smile. He was trembling, visibly shaking at the presence of the two of us standing so intimately close to his helpless body.
“Such a sweet-looking boy”,’ I’d taunted, “I’ll bet your Bob just adores fucking this one?’ I addressed Mandy, but my eyes never left Poppy’s face delighting in how those parts of his face I could see turned bright red with shame as he tried to turn away, but I would not allow him that luxury. I heard Mandy giggle as I grabbed his bridle and forced him to look at me as I pushed my face closer to his while my other hand stretched downwards and took his captive manhood between two fingers.
“Nothing to be ashamed of down there, pony,” I said softly, “not that it matters, of course, for they will never let you use it other than for pissing in the dirt. Only your Masters magnificent cock matters now for you, Poppy!” I chuckled, giving his useless dick a vicious squeeze that probably made his eyes water that bit more.
Mandy, who’d stepped away now rejoined, me, looking thoughtful. “Bob was complaining that this one was giving him a major problem in that department. Unusually tight, apparently. Sarah, out of curiosity, left his tail tube out for a few days and put him on a high fibre diet to keep him solid to see what he voided naturally. Never seen such long dainty turds as this one produced his shit chutes so damn narrow. Talk about rabbit droppings and worms! Squeals delightfully, Bob tells me when he finally gets up him, but says the journey is such a hassle that arriving is hardly worth the effort involved or so he jokes!”
“Stretch him”, I blurted out, stating the obvious I realised immediately with some embarrassment even as I made the suggestion.
I need not have worried, for Mandy was still looking thoughtfully down at the Ponyboy whose face I held twisted towards us both, and she probably hadn’t heard a word I’d said, then a wicked smile formed on her classically beautiful face. The pony also saw that smile, and I could feel him start to tremble anew. “Why not, why not indeed”, she murmured. “I shall be talking with Bob later, and I’m sure he’ll agree, and if he doesn’t, we’ll what’s done is done, eh pony? It's not as if you’ll be in a position to tell him!” She stood up and winked at me before calling. “Judith, Honey, got a moment!”
The stable girls pretty face immediately bobbed up over the door to the stall, looking interested so that I knew she’d also been listening to every word we’d said. I still held Poppy’s bridle tightly and saw that the expectant eager look on her face hadn’t been missed by the pony either, whose head was pointing in the girl's direction.
“Jess dear, a little extra job for you”, Mandy called. “Later, when you have finished delivering the additional punishment to this foolish disobedient animal, you have my permission to use it for your pleasure. I suggest one of the larger toys, say a four or a five. “ She stopped and smiled at Judith. “Your choice entirely dear, that’s if you don’t mind putting in a little, er overtime shall we call it?”
The expression of delight on the tall stable girls face at this unexpected bonus answered that question for all three of us, confirmed by the nasty smile she immediately flashed at the ponyboy and her words that made him quiver in my grasp.
“No problem at all, ma’am. Just for today or every evening until I head back to uni?”
Mandy made a theatrical show of considering the suggestion, absently reaching out a hand to stoke Poppy’s head. “Oh, let me see, Bob doesn’t fly back from the Caribbean for another what, eight days and you leave, when was it, dear?”
“Saturday, two days before that”.
“Well, Honey, we shall all miss you once again, most of us anyway,” Mandy said with a laugh, lightly slapping the ponyboys head. “I’m sure six days will be more than enough for you to, shall we say, enthusiastically expand certain boundaries a little for my husband's convenience. I dare say this truculent beast will be the first he chooses to exercise his masculinity upon when he returns!” She paused and winked at me. “Let us call it a little or perhaps not so little going-away present from a grateful employer!”
I released Poppy as Mandy motioned me to follow her towards the exit saying, “We must get on; our overdue lunch awaits. It's sweltering out, and those two ponies have been waiting long enough.”
“Do you worry about them getting sunburnt?”
Mandy hooted with laughter at that as we left the building. “Forget sunshine, Honey. They’ve all felt heat far more intense than that upon their hides, believe me. Nope, I just don’t want that bottle I had chilling getting too warm, c’mon!”
*****
I’d been about to call out something like ‘Hiya pony, pleased to see me then?’ but refrained, catching myself in time. I was trying to train myself out of the urge to speak to my beautiful animal that way. Little Fluffy, yes, I absent-mindedly talked to her all the time over at the house just as I did to young Raven, my German Sheppard, but they were both pets. Raven was a dog and Fluffy; well, she was also a cute and sexy little blonde in a puppy suit with whom I shared a very intimate relationship at times. Albeit very one-sided!
Beauty was something else entirely, though, a pure dumb animal no different to those I’d spent the day with in Mandy’s impressive stable complex. Mandy and her girls talked about them but rarely to them other than to give simple commands. They gave little or no indication ever that those same animals might understand everything that they said.
I could fully appreciate the logic or psychology behind such actions. There was no point spending time and energy ruthlessly training the livestock, depriving them of virtually every vestige of humanity, of beating them to the point whereby blind obedience became second nature. Not if you then proceeded to hold a conversation with them, albeit something else entirely one-sided. No point whatsoever!
Her conversation with Poppy had been an exception. A spur of the moment whim of pure sadistic malevolence, as Mandy admitted to me later and anyway, he was one of Bob’s, not hers. That unfortunate animal immediately came to mind partly because of that and for one other more tangible reason that assailed me upon entering my stable.
Beauty had soiled herself, of course, in my absence. That hollow tail plug allowed her no choice in the matter. My nose had detected that distinct aroma the moment I heaved open the stable door, nostrils twitching even as I made a mental note to rummage around on my workbench for an oil can or the WD 40 aerosol thingy. Something had to be done about those awful squealing hinges!
I paused to savour the smell. Under other circumstances, perhaps in a regular stable, I dare say my nose would have wrinkled and rejected that odour, but it was always as delightful to me as the most delicate perfume. Essence of captive ponygirl! Not just any ponygirl either but my own captive, non-consenting ponygirl.
I’d noted it in Mandy’s vast modern aircraft hanger sized stable cum training arena, but the sheer size of that building inevitably diluted it unless you were right outside a stall as per young Poppy. Although from Judith irritated attitude, he seemed a more malodorous offender. Whereas in my more modest ageing building, it always seemed to be the prevailing smell. Dominant but not overwhelming all the other delightful aromas.
Beauties shit wasn’t the sole reason for my pausing as I entered on this occasion. Nor for once did my gaze immediately focus on that magnificent, feral creature I’d scouted, captured, harnessed and stabled. Rather than Beauty, it was those empty stalls that were my immediate and regretful focus. Filthy untidy enclosures, each half full of accumulated junk causing me to idly speculate as to the last time they’d been occupied as originally intended?
Certainly before my parents time and probably years before that. Even as a small child, they’d stood empty and slowly filling with all sorts of junk, adding to the detritus they’d inherited when they bought the farm and its remnants of land.
I knew Beauty was watching me, expecting me to approach her as I always did immediately after entering. Expectant and fearful as she should be when her owner was present. They say you can smell fear, but I’m not sure that’s true. Anyway, given the stench such ponies make, it would have to be a potent odour indeed to overcome the stink of the human captive equine’s natural waste!
I looked over to my animal waste producer, grinning as I thought I perceived a shudder run through her beautiful tall frame. Fear? Very probably, for the animal had been in captivity long enough now to have experienced just how cruel her owner could be. Foolish creature, we’d only just begun that painful voyage of discovery together, and I suspected we were barely out of the shallows, let alone in deeper waters!
It was more sense than smell, I surmised, running my eye over her harnessed magnificence. A subliminal awareness based on a mixture of posture and body language maybe, or maybe not? I could sense it, though, her fear! I shivered but not from cold as that familiar sensation shot through my crotch, giving me that all too familiar weak at the knees feeling. Shit, just walking in and looking at her almost brought about an orgasm. The sheer power of ownership of the creature, just one such creature and if…
My mind returned to the problem I’d been pondering for most of my trip home. It wasn’t technically a problem at all because I already knew the solution. Only the solution itself presented problems far more formidable. If I wanted to apply whip, crop and cane to pony hide as often as I desired and as intense as I desired, for as long as I desired, then the answer was simple. I needed more ponies!
The thought made me turn and look at Beauty again, who promptly backed deeper into her stall, possibly alarmed by something in my speculative gaze. Either that or her bourgeoning primal animal instincts were coming to the fore once again! To be honest, I wasn’t even looking at her as such, merely reflecting that if I didn’t reign in my growing sadistic desires or obtain additional livestock, I might end up doing something silly to one or both of my animals! Something I’d do in a wild moment of sadistic lust and then instantly regret!
I shook myself and returned to my perusal of the old stable. Well, it wasn’t all doom and gloom, was it on that front. I had one ponygirl, and I had five more stalls that could be used once they were cleared of all the accumulated rubbish. Heck, I’d put my DIY skills to good use preparing Beauties stall, hadn’t I? Plus, if I were busily engaged in a major renovation project, I’d be far less likely to overindulge myself and beat the poor animal to death!
Besides, another thought suddenly occurred to me as I looked about. I’d initially chosen that particular stall for Beauty partly out of convenience and partly because it had been the least cluttered. I looked at the nearest one. My father had been a keen cyclist owning numerous bicycles. His varied collection had been sold off after he retired, but there were still plenty of remnants from his hobby laying around in the shape of old frames and numerous wheels. This stall had a stack of such things.
My eye continued roving noting various items. Why not? I looked at my apprehensive ponygirl now cowering fearfully in the shadow at the rear of her stall. It was the right time of the year, the weather was good, and my farm was well overdue for a good clearout, inside and out. I’d been putting that task off ever since I’d returned home from London after my mother's death. Getting someone to cart it all away would be no problem, but rather than have them come up to the buildings if I or something else did the ‘donkeywork’ excuse the expression.
I eyed the collection of old wheels again and grinned. I was sure I could find a way of conveying all the junk down to the end of my drive, where there was a convenient turning place just inside the gates to dump it. A way that apart from loading and unloading wouldn’t involve too much effort on my part so far as the actual transportation went, plus being a whole lot of fun! I turned back towards Beauty and flashed her the very sort of anticipatory grin that I’m sure she’d been dreading. Fun for me anyway!