Pony Reality

Note: This chapter ends Pony Reality part one.

Chapter 16

I made extra sure that my house and stable doors were firmly closed and locked. It was highly unlikely that anybody would be coming out here anyway, those that did such as the telephone engineer who had recently sorted out my annoying intermittent internet problem, I knew about in advance. I couldn’t even remember the last cold caller, in fact, I don’t think I had ever had one since returning to live there. Nevertheless, I wasn’t about to take any silly chances.

My sense of humour took over again as I drove slowly along the winding track to my entrance gate. The subject of holidays had suddenly entered my head. You know how it goes, suddenly out of nowhere something pops up then is reluctant to go away! That set me to thinking back some months to what had started everything off when I’d been considering going on a pony trekking holiday and the keywords I had typed into Google search had ultimately put poor Beauty into my stable.

The amusement was a result of thinking on how tied down I was now in respect of taking a vacation. Way more so than any ordinary pet owner. I couldn’t exactly book little Fluffy into the nearest boarding kennels could I while I flew off to spend a week getting a tan on the beach in Majorca! Likewise, with Beauty. Excuse me could you stable my pony for a fortnight, oh and please could you give her a good whipping every day and don’t let anyone fuck her...lol! That was a practical aspect you never came across in fiction. Mind you, most people in books or stories were ‘mega-rich’ and had a ton of gorgeous young stable girls or handsome lads on hand to look after their animals hadn’t they.

That set me thinking a few moments later as I headed towards the village.  I wondered again if I were the only one, no surely not, there must be at least a few others who had harboured and then enacted the same dark desires that I had had. The interest was clearly there from the sheer amount of fetish material around. Who knows I chuckled, maybe there were even specialist ‘animal’ sitters out there somewhere? Hell, if I had known that plus the where and how I could have volunteered as one and saved myself a lot of trouble.

Not that I intended to even think about doing anything so imprudent. How many criminals got caught because of their reckless stupidity? That was something else that was now continually lurking at the back of my mind, and it killed my amusement. I was a criminal now wasn't I? I had committed serious crimes, kidnap, false imprisonments, sexual assault, torture and a few others. It was a sobering thought. How easy was it to cross that line? I was still me, and yet as I had thought before, how would other people see me?

What happened if one of my animals got sick, very sick,  would I have to...could I....that line of thought was going into a dark area I hastily decided? At this stage, I didn’t even want to begin to think about going there. Thoughts like that and I might turn around and head straight back home to release them both. I brooded for a second, then the heavenly memory of Fluffy’s frantic little pink tongue and Beauties delightful screams banished the darkness. No bloody way. I had got them, and I was damn well going to keep them. Hell, if the opportunity ever arose, I would eagerly add to my little collection. Now that was a thought, and a half wasn’t it?

That entertaining little idea kept my mind pleasantly occupied for the short drive to the village post office, igniting that now familiar tingling itch deep in my crotch anew. All the more delicious now that I had a pet waiting at home to scratch it for me! I was on a high, and my fantasies soared likewise.

A ponyboy perhaps, maybe it would be fun to have a stallion to fuck, no that wasn’t the right way to put it was it? To cover, that was it, cover Beauty from time to time but only on rare occasions and for my entertainment, not hers or his of course. Another puppy? No, I had two already now, and of course Fluffy was going to be, what was the expression for doggies doing it, mounted? No matter fucked would suffice. I suddenly laughed. Hell yes, if she thought licking my pussy was terrible wait till she had to provide Raven with some boy puppy/girl puppy fun.

A pig! I had an old disused pigsty outback, hadn’t I? Imagine owning a human-pig. A naked pink human piggy rolling around and rooting about in a disgusting, filthy muddy pigpen. How humiliatingly revolting, for them! A boar or a sow I wondered, which would be best. How about a couple even, one of each, wouldn’t that be fun? Maybe a bit boring though on second thoughts. I mean once the attraction wore off what would you do with them. Make bacon? I chuckled.

Maybe if some fucker ever really pissed me off and I got my wicked little hands on them I decided they might end up rooting for truffles in my sty. What else then, a cow, some nice plump big bitch with oversized udders in another stall I could milk twice a day. It’d read a few Hucow type books. How the hell did you get them to produce the stuff anyway? Probably pure fiction I surmised. I was parking outside the post office and waving to Mrs Ravi before I could take my fantasies any further. Perhaps just as well because who knew to what depraved depths my wicked erotic imagination might take me.

The village shop was empty I saw as I manoeuvred around the cramped confines, past the overfilled shelves towards the little postal kiosk at the back.  “I certainly hadn’t expected this to arrive quite so quickly,” I told her as she passed the heavy-duty cardboard container over to me. That certainly was super-fast”.

“It came very special delivery,” Mrs Ravi told me in her quaint sing-song voice. “Never before have I seen one arrive like this, but it is to you via us, same package like other ones you have received from Germany before, but they are coming previously by the Royal Mail parcel post. This one came on its own brought in by courier man from delivery company I have not known previously.”

“Oh well, I said. I am glad it is here early. There are a few groceries I need to buy as well while I’m here. A thought struck me as I glanced around at the well-stocked shelves of the shop. Do you still have any of that cheap dog food you were trying to shift a couple of weeks back?”

“Oh yes, we still have plenty, no one wants to buy it. I told him at cash and carry, no I said do not buy that as no one will want it, it is no good, cheap rubbish, but would he listen. I tell him if cash and carry sell so very cheap, and it have long date then it is no good, if they cannot sell, then we cannot. Did he listen to his wife speaking with the common sense?  No of course not! Ten cases! Ten we bought and nine and a half we still have! You sure you want?”

I laughed. Oh, I think I can find a use for it. I’ll mix it with a few other more tempting additives.”

Mrs Ravi shook her head, looking doubtful. “Our little Raj wouldn’t even taste it. Sniff sniff once and that was it, No, damn good, I am thinking your dog will not eat.”

I laughed again. “Oh, I have no such worries, I’ll take a couple of cases off your hands. I am absolutely sure my little puppy will eat it; I can be very patient and very persuasive” I assured her. Well I thought to myself that was only half a lie I wouldn’t have much patience, but with my cane, in my hand, I could undoubtedly be very persuasive if little Fluffy got too fussy over her future cuisine!

Five minutes later, I was on my way home, entertaining myself thinking up menus that progressively got more revolting. Doggie chunks and spaghetti, chunky dog lumps and beans, raw egg and doggie lumps in gravy and...well you get the picture. I was way too engrossed to notice a small non-descriptive white van pull out of the pub car park and proceed along the road behind me. I stopped to open my gate to get the car through when it carefully pulled up beside me, and the driver’s side window slid down.

“Excuse me, madam, please,” the driver said politely but with an odd heavy accent. He gestured up and down the road with one hand. “I have a delivery for Greystone House, is somewhere along this road but I have no number they give only road and name which is for house, is make very difficult!”

I nodded sympathetically. A lot of us don’t have assigned house numbers along here, just the building name, road and the postcode. Mine is Brockhurst Farm. I can’t help you with that one though I have never heard of Greystone House. Mind you I hardly know the names of any houses around here. Why don’t you ask at the post office back in the village down that way? It’s not very far, and they should know.”

The man gave a little appreciative exclamation and nodded his thanks, drove a little further on then made a neat three-point turn and waved to me as he passed. I thought nothing of it, manoeuvred the car through, closed the gate and drove home extremely eager to open my parcel and commence the next stage in the evolution of my two animal's.

I plopped the box down on the kitchen table and went to rummage around in a kitchen unit in search of a knife. I knew from previous deliveries that this company didn’t cut costs on the packaging, nor should they at their prices! Despite my eagerness, I was amused to find myself carefully returning the knife to its respective drawer once I’d finished murdering swathes of heavy adhesive tape with it. Quite in contrast to the resident clutter, I’d just carelessly swept aside to make room for the box. My I thought, aren’t we becoming a tidy little madam now that it might not be advisable to leave bladed items like that carelessly laying around!

A moment later, I was lifting out one deluxe made to measure  ‘puppy suit’ wrapped in several layers of soft purple tissue paper. One very high-quality outfit, my eager hands told me as I examined the garment. Smooth, very soft yet with a distinct furry feel to the exterior, thin though and stretchy it would cling tightly to every curve of my sexy little puppies body other than the intimate ‘open’ areas!  

I carefully examined the short leg and arm ‘pouches’ or pockets I suppose you could call them, after all, they were the essential features of the outfit. I’d considered the variant where knees and elbows were supported by integrated padded artificial paws and concluded that they were just clumsy and vulnerable additions. They looked good in the photos but how practical in daily use I’d questioned? I’d settled for separate thick rubber pads fitted to thin, supple leather elbow and knee encasements that could easily be replaced with the spares they included.

Also, enclosed were some wide Velcro fastening straps of a very thin material along with the instructions, quite comprehensive instructions with lots of colour photos that showed how to put the suit on your puppy, how to restrain its bent limbs, how to keep the garment clean. That was simple. You could they said, put it through the washing machine at a low temperature or, and I had to laugh at the various images. They showed photos of a puppy boy complete with doggie headgear being hosed down by his young mistress and then scrubbed with a stiff brush.  That appeared to be their recommended method, far easier for the owner than repeatedly removing and re-fitting the suit!

They advised the owner against using a very stiff bristle brush and hot water. A soft to medium stiff flexible nylon brush plus lukewarm or cold water and a mild household laundry detergent should suffice, also to choose a suitable location preferably outside. The newly bathed puppy should be encouraged to shake themselves vigorously as per their canine counterparts to assist the natural drying process. There were a couple of pictures of the same puppy boy doing just that, his mistress having swapped scrubbing brush for a bamboo cane to provide the recommended encouragement. Seriously? Shit, this company knew how to push all the right buttons on someone like me!

 Although the garment did initially feel a little on the flimsy side, my doubts about the security of the suit soon diminished. The arm and leg enclosures were supposedly much stronger than the rest of the outfit for obvious reasons, but to my fingers, I could not feel any significant difference at all. If this company described them as ‘escape-proof’, I had to believe them. Besides, even if the little bitch did manage to rip her way out of it all she’d gain would be one hell of a thrashing. The leather collar would remain locked about her neck 24/7 and the chain from that to some strong point, likewise when I was not around.

The straps included were designed to restrain the puppies doubled up limbs to assist in dressing. The suit had a ‘thermal’ element to it. They said once you’d got your puppy snuggly encased in its second skin, there was enough stretch initially to allow you to get a hand in and release the straps. You could leave them on, but they recommended against doing so. That could lead to future problems with muscle cramp and blood flow. The garment was designed to react to body heat and would contract to ensure a perfect fit and would continue to do so should the puppy lose weight. A not ‘uncommon’ occurrence the pamphlet informed when new puppies were becoming accustomed to a different diet. Shit, this companies god damn literature! They must have a hell of a lot of ‘heavy fetish’ players on their books filling up the orders for this stuff in their extreme range? Either that or it must have been designed especially for people like me! It wasn’t the first time either that I’d had that thought.

Once you were happy with everything you could fasten the unique low-profile zip along its back and the cunning seal would provide an invisible smooth join that you could barely feel let alone see. There would be no ugly break to ruin your visual enjoyment of your pets new skin nor spoil your delight when stroking and petting the animal.

The cleverly designed leg and arm restraints would adapt to your puppies needs, allowing a modicum of internal flexibility for health reasons but remain entirely inescapable. Even if the puppy tried to snag the material on a sharp protruding item such as a nail, it would be unlikely that their limited posture would allow them to muster sufficient strength to cause any significant tear given the strength and weave of the material.

They had the same confidence in this product as they had in their leather gear with the customary standard guarantee for the ‘inescapable range’. Everything was either ten years or life. It made me wonder as I popped everything back in the box how many of their customers had a puppy confined in one for ten years or life? Would I be the first?  I giggled aloud. I wondered how they’d react if I were to send them a photo ten years hence from a highly satisfied customer? One satisfied half of the partnership, I doubt that the other half would be anywhere near as happy nor as likely to endorse the product enthusiastically! Ten years, Sheesh! It was unimaginable.

I moved onto the next item. Boots or puppy-suit? I pondered briefly. A mostly redundant question because I had already considered it and ninety per cent made my mind up while driving home. I’d carry on with Beauty out in the stable; I was still dressed for that anyway.  No doubt I would be as randy as fuck once again after I’d finished with her.  I‘d pop a bottle of wine in the fridge to chill, I know some people would think that sacrilegious but I liked a chilled glass of white wine or two, now and again when I relaxed. I smiled, yes I was anticipating doing a lot of sensual relaxing later that evening!

Once I headed upstairs with a cold bottle along with Fluffy’s new outfit, I did not intend coming down again till the following morning. I planned on making it a double dressing session. There were several flimsy garments in sealed cellophane packets lurking at the back of my knickers drawer that I’d purchased on a whim and never actually worn. Tonight seemed like the perfect occasion to slip into that sexy black nylon catsuit with the open crotch. If nothing else it would give me the freedom of movement I would need when I ‘dressed’ or more likely wrestled a very unwilling young woman into her second skin. I anticipated more than a little body contact between us as I forced her into it and wouldn’t it make everything feel so much sexier?

Practicalities though first. Desirous as I was to start cramming my Beauty into her hoofs I had to restrain my eagerness and attend to the basics of animal husbandry. The fun part discounting having to collect up all of Fluffy’s piss stinky bedding and shoving it in the washing machine, was taking her for a few turns around the yard followed by the interested Raven yapping at her heels. Poor little weepy thing desperately shuffling along on her filthy elbows. Terrified both of my hovering cane and her substantial inquisitive four-legged admirer sent me into overdrive. The urge to drag her sexy quivering little body straight back into the house and up to my bedroom was almost irresistible!

I was about to make a little speech about puppy bedroom hygiene when I remembered that she probably wouldn’t understand me. Beyond basics her English was virtually non-existent and what with Raven and me both menacing her I doubted if a single word would have registered anyway even if she’d been fluent! OK, so I might as well start her toilet training by example. I mean to use the much-hacked phrase, it wasn’t rocket science, learning to crap in the dirt, and last night she’d shown she could learn pretty darn quick when it came to the intimate service I’d wanted from her other end!

Besides, real puppies don’t speak English either, and they soon learned when and where to pee and poop, also to hold it in till it was time for walkies. All it took was repetition plus perhaps a little mild ‘corrective’ encouragement.  Mild? Not relevant for this particular breed of stubborn puppy!  Plus I  was already holding a suitable implement to assist the tutorial.

Fortuitously as I was thinking about it, I was ably assisted as it happened by my real four-legged canine. I’d dragged the other reluctant little beast over to the corner of the stable near my overgrown rubbish heap when Raven abandoned sniffing at her rump and decided it was time to cock his leg. I bent down and grabbed her head, twisting it and pointing to Puppy number one going about his business as though on cue!

“Good boy, good boy” I complimented him and stroked his head then hauled Fluffy over to the little brown pile and pointed my cane at it. Given the uneven head down posture, her bindings forced her to adopt the nose of the creature was almost touching the three fresh turds, nor would I let her retreat from them. I contemplated whether I should shove her cute snout down into them or just hold her head near enough to get a good sniff. That was one thing the little bitch would have to get used to, sniffing all those dubious things doggies so love to smell!

A thought occurred, resulting in the inevitable giggle. Better make sure that I always wiped the bitches muzzle down carefully before she got busy on her extended oral puppy duties. I doubted if Raven would be fussy, but I most certainly would be! The little bitch wasn’t at all happy what with what was right under her muzzle nor with Raven resuming his sniffing at the other end making her flinch at every touch of his cold, wet nose upon her well-flayed rump.

“No, NO, STAY” I ordered hauling her forward. “NO” I gave her a quick cut, my cane hitting the same area Raven had just been sniffing. “Stay, stay  Fluffy, that’s a good girl! No Raven, away Raven, not now, not yet boy. You can play with her later, away. Go on boy; it will be well worth the wait mummy promises darling”.

He gave me a long reproachful look and then slunk away pretending to be miserable for a few yards till something fluttered past his head. He bounded forward, barking loudly and happily chasing after it in the direction of my little paddock.

Fluffy was watching him, so I gave her a mild cut to remind her to stay focused on the matter to hand. I decided that I might as well demean myself again; it had worked well enough last night, so why not now. I waggled the cane in front of her eyes, keeping a firm hold on her leash as she attempted to back away again. “NO Fluffy!” A sweet little tear-stained face turned towards me, so pathetic and yet so deliciously adorable. I’d shoved her gag back in before we came out. I suspected that if I hadn’t, we’d be back to square one when it came to getting vocal, and it was unlikely to be in ‘puppy talk’.

I pointed to the unpleasant little pile again making sure that I had her full attention, then at the cost of a certain amount of dignity, I made a squatting motion and pantomimed pointing to my arse and then Ravens small pile. I did that several times then tapped her rump and followed through by poking her ass hole and clit with the tip of my cane and gesturing toward the yucky brown lumps with an outstretched finger. Then I deliberately assumed a posture indicating that I had all the time in the world to wait.

It took a couple of goes, but finally, I saw horrified realisation dawn in her eyes. It was fun seeing that mortified look she gave me. I smiled triumphantly and nodded down at her, pointing once more to Raven's dump. Yup girl, bingo, you got it in one bitch. Well maybe got it in four! I wonder if you are all that bright. There you are, down there at my feet, helpless with a dog collar around your neck, grovelling on all fours on the end of a leash, do you think it will all stop for a proper human-style bathroom break you silly little bitch?

I jabbed a finger down again at the example and tapped the cane impatiently against my boot. Three times I repeated the action then losing patience, lashed out, giving her a savage cut across both cheeks. That sent the little wretch rolling in the dirt howling mutely into her gag. I gave her a couple of seconds before dragging her back on to her paws and repeated. Four more times, the cane whistled and bit deep into her puppy backside! Then I grabbed her reluctant head and rammed her fucking tearful snout into the pile of dog shit swiftly followed by my boot on the back of her neck holding the disobedient animal there!

Two minutes later, her hind legs reluctantly parted in a sort of squat, and she finally peed for me. Not a huge amount but enough to satisfy me as I watched the yellow trickle splash into the dirt. The bitch now had eight fresh new bleeding stripes across her tortured rump, but once again, puppy girl had learned a new trick.

“Good girl, good good girl!” I cried aloud watching the final dribbles with mixed feelings. A part of me was thrilled and elated at how quickly I’d reduced the little bitch to this lowly animal status, yet another part was a touch disappointed. Had the bitch no pride, no sense of shame, could she not resist me for at least a little bit longer. Maybe it was my fault I reflected looking at the bloody welts across her already swollen bruised and pulverised rump. If that was me could I have stood up to another thrashing on that oh so tempting plump little booty I wondered?

Thirty minutes later I was back to my parcel on the kitchen table retrieving the second major item I’d ordered, the long rectangular box that contained Beauties new permanent footwear. Little Fluffy was back safely chained to the wall having been fed and watered. I’d gone soft and changed my mind taking pity on her at the last moment. I’d grabbed a couple of tins of the new dog food from two different cartons intending to give her a choice, but somehow the forlorn look in her sad puppy eyes got to me. Well, that plus the state of her backside did make me feel a tad guilty! Softie! Anyway, didn’t I wanted her fully energised for later?

I’d filled her doggie bowl with muesli instead, added a couple of mashed up bananas, some mixed dried fruit and a generous quantity of semi-skimmed milk. I reminded myself that I was going to have to spend time doing some serious research on suitable ‘animal style’ diets for my two pets before much longer. I needed them healthy but by no means happy with their food.  Perhaps in time, I’d relent a little, but for now bland, boring and repetitive would help enforce their lowly unimportant animal status! 

The little bitch tried to get stroppy again as I started to remove her gag, so I held a finger up to my lips, shook my head and gave her couple of sharp taps on the end of her nose with the cane to stop that. Silliness.  Once again I demeaned myself repeating the doggie noises I’d made the previous night and pointed at her then tapped her with the cane. My angry eyes never left hers as I removed the red ball gag. She gasped and spluttered and briefly resisted as I took a firm grip on her collar and pushed her head down over the bowl and snapped my fingers. 

There was a pause, she opened her mouth, looked at the cane then up at me then began to weep silently. My boot nudged the bowl nearer, and a gloved finger pointed. Ten minutes later she hadn’t finished her supper, but at this early stage of her training, I could forgive that especially given the choking fit she’d had halfway through. I would not tolerate it for too long, though. Good puppies licked their food bowls spotless, and I would expect no less from her regardless of what tasty delights I placed in them! Raven was still happily running around and playing outside, so I’d left her secured in the kitchen and went to muck out Beauties stall.

Twenty minutes later, with all my chores finally done, I re-crossed the yard with the boots box under my arm. That would be another lesson I’d have to teach the little bitch soon I thought to myself. Puppies should greet their owners enthusiastically every time they enter the house not just lay there in a tearful snivelling heap of self-pitying misery. The bitch was there for my entertainment and delight, so she’d better learn to save such emotions well hidden or else!

These boots were something else.  Vastly more impressive in the flesh than in the website pictures. Unlike some over-priced ‘must-have’ smartphone or the latest fashionable electronic gadget, they didn’t come in a fancy designer box.  One of those cunningly contrived to convince the gullible that the product within was better than its rivals and could thereby justify its premium price. These just came in an unadorned, simple stout white cardboard one with the contents wrapped individually in that same purple tissue paper.

It hit you immediately, though — that heady aroma of pristine leather, expensive leather, the craftsmanship, the quality. Yet also perhaps a slight feeling of initial disappointment. I’d seen cheap high heeled knee boots in high street shops that outwardly looked glossier, hadn’t I?

That feeling quickly disappeared as I took picked one up and started examining it. These were working boots handcrafted to the highest standards and intended to last for years. They’d cost an absolute fortune, but then I thought, take that price and divide it by the number of weeks, months even years then the amount was negligible! How much did a decent pair of hand-made construction site steel-toed work boots cost and their usage would be minimal compared to these two 24/7 beauties? Naturally, I giggled. Two booty beauties for Beauties tootsies!

No these were not fashion boots designed for some little pretentious little tart short on skirt and long on makeup to strut her stuff around the office or down at the local disco. The only ‘hard-ons’ this footwear would arouse would be in perverted people like me, just looking and touching them for real rather than over the internet was already stirring up those sadistic ever-eager internal juices I’d so belatedly discovered.

As with the puppy-suit, there was a comprehensive set of instructions and recommendations enclosed, complete with numerous colour photographs. Hell, I thought as my eye quickly scanned the literature, this was a bit different from the last pair of boots I’d purchased. All that had involved had been opening the box, removing the packing pieces, sticking my feet in and then pulling up the zips. My eye caught advice on removing leg hair, particularly in male ponies, wetting and warming the leather for a skin-tight fit, permanent and non-permanent usage – that looked interesting. The toe end of the hoof could also be removed via some small recessed screws to allow an owner to trim the nails on the ‘natural inner hoof’- their expression not mine.

Just as with the puppy-suit, there was a definite thread running through the ‘recommended’ advice they gave. I wouldn’t have described it as blatantly sinister, but it was always there and not entirely subliminal either in some places. Take this paragraph, for example. 

 ‘Owners with a requirement for permanently shoeing their ponies should give serious consideration to the removal of their animals toe-nails. The procedure is minor and negates the need for regular removal of the boot or for trimming excessive nail growth’. Jeez, were these guys for real? If so, sheesh the mind boggled!

I put the box down on my improvised flogging bench and turned to look thoughtfully at my wary captive ponygirl while absently turning the right boot over and over in my hands. Beauty was stationary and watching me intently, but I was too far away to see the look in her eyes. I knew she could clearly see what I was holding and that she would also know which of us would soon be wearing them! What she didn’t realise and at that distance probably couldn’t yet appreciate was just how specialised her beautiful new footwear would be!

Pity I’d not received that text notification a little earlier while I still had the big creature securely strapped down to the bench here I thought looking at the boot and glancing down at the info.  I was going to need her fastened very firmly so that she would be completely immobile again. It wasn’t going to be a case of grabbing hold of a stubborn flaying limb tightly and thrusting her foot into a boot, then securely fastening it.

No, this would take time, and I wanted to do it properly, once these boots were on her, I intended for them to stay on for a long time. A very long time. I didn’t want the creature imagining that they’d be on and off every ten minutes. I intended for them to be as much a part of her anatomy as the leg enclosed within it. In a sense more even than that, in my eyes, they would replace everything from the knee down, human feet would become animal hoofs on this exquisite creature! What was that term, ‘natural inner hoof’? Yes, that natural inner and the un-natural outer would become as one on my Beauties hoofs!

I was so engrossed in the erotic thought process that I neither saw nor heard the stable door open quietly behind me. Beauty noticed because she startled me by suddenly jumping up and down in her bonds and making frantic noises into her bit, her head and body shaking violently from side to side, her eyes suddenly wide. Just for a second, I was scared she was having a fit or seizure, but then I heard a quiet cultured female voice from behind me.

“I  think perhaps that you will find it easier to fit her hoofs were I to assist?”

Not being restrained, I jumped much higher than Beauty, and it was my turn to have a fit! 

End of Pony Reality Part One. 

The story will continue in Part 2 Pony Renaissance.

Pony Renaissance