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Pony Named Pleasure

By: ddraelynkhar



One of my favorite things in this world is to wake up on a warm stall on a Saturday when there's a cool breeze coming down from the aisle of our barn and hearing my masters footsteps. I stretch and shake, ready to have my blanket off me, my oat breakfast which he usually put bits of strawberry and honey into and lets me eat while he sees to me. I always try to have the bedding shook from my flesh and greet him at the stall door. Some mornings I am slower than I intend and hear him cluck his tongue in amused disappointment as I fight my way to the door, tangled in my stable blanket like a fish in a net. He likes me to be an elegant creature. Some mornings I am a lovely cat of a horse...some mornings I'm a clumsy pony. 

This morning I manage to greet him at my stall door without being in a tangle. Somehow, I even have my mane all tossed to the left side of my neck as he likes and when Master greets me I shove my face into his large rough hands. In my world the greatest thing is the scent on his hands when he touches me. He smells of leather and soap always and the callus's on his fingers gently stroke my jaw line, calming and centering me. I'm his creature. He is my world. Everything is just as it should be when he touches me. These are the hands I would follow into or out of a burning barn, they just need to touch me soothingly and take my rope.

Content, I sigh and rest my brow against his chest, encouraging him to pat my neck or stroke my shoulders, activities I would extend to the entire day if it were up to me. While I believe he enjoys these quiet moments too he would not let me be so lazy. Even on days we don't go out together I will at least go out to stretch my legs and move around my field. Or I might get muddy in the duck pond if I feel I'm being neglected and need to have my master bathe me. We shall not talk about that one time he let me sleep covered in mud as an object lesson. I now try and gauge his mood before I play in the mud. A spirited pony can only do her best though.

My breakfast is a pleasant but quick affair. Sometimes I eat warm oats and berries or honey from a pan while he does other chores about our stable. Some mornings he will feed me bits of my breakfast off the tips of his fingers. This of course is my favorite and I am ever careful not to nip him. I do not bite or fight or kick often. I am valued by my master for being his Good Girl. I would hate to loose the privilege of hand feeding to a stray nip. 

Now while I have a bit of water Master will groom me. He leads me from my stall and on a mild day like this one he will see to me inside. When the weather warms we will use the garden hose at the end of the stable where there is a rubber matt and the sunshine hits on the east side of the building. Today is just a bit too cool for that he tells me and he keeps me just outside my box stall. Cross tying me with a clip on either side of my headstall and a lead attached to opposite walls, obliging me to stand in the center of the aisle, moving neither to the left nor the right. I never have liked standing like this. It makes me feel exposed and powerless but when I snort to complain about it he just chuckles and smacks my rump. 

"Behave. I'll be right back."

Disgruntled I do behave as I don't have much choice in the matter anyway. He takes my blanket off my shoulders, folds it, and disappears into the tack room. When he returns its with a bucket and a sponge and I have a lovely hand wash from him with warm soapy water from the tap. My master is careful not to get the soap in my eyes and washes my neck well under my mane. Over my back, over my belly, there's not an inch of me that I feel doesn't glisten when he has finished and goes for clear water to rinse my mane with. 

Then the cloth, I love the cloth, he rubs me vigorously all over with it and I tingle from nose to toe. Oh how the cross ties frustrate me when he grooms me because I want to turn and lower my head and nuzzle him. My grooming is another of my favorite things in the world - like the smell of leather and soap.

I want to nuzzle and smell him again. But right now has just gently efficient drying me. 

Next the body brush. This is my favorite thing in the world surly. When he brushes he always has one hand on my body somewhere to steady me and the other wields the brush. It is a coarse hair brush, and as I am a finely made pony my skin is soft and sensitive. He says he will never use nylon or something synthetic on my hide. Only this - it is stiff enough to straighten my mane and tail if they aren't too tangled, but soft enough to go over my face without hurting. It was made to stroke my flesh though. Well, really to clean it I suppose, but I feel stroke is the right word here.

Again no inch of my body is untouched and sometimes he smooth's his hand over the patch he just brushed, feeling the prickly heat of my sensitive flesh with his fingers and telling me I am his Good girl. Oh how I want to nuzzle him while he does this. He never releases me from the cross ties while grooming. He says for me to stand tied is good and proper... but some days he's very kind and will stand in front of me a moment before he finishes grooming just stroking my neck or cheek while I lean my head into him. 

Today is a day that goes just so and after a few minutes of stroking me post-brushing he taps me under the chin with a smile. He's got something special planned and wants to get me ready. I shake my head once to hear the hardware from the ties jingle against my headstall. It's a sound similar to (though not as nice as) the tiny bells on my winter harness. My master sometimes truly knows me and laughs, taping my nose. 

"Red leather for you today Princess? Why not?" I flounce in place, excited. I usually only wear the red set in winter because the bells , he says, go with the little red sleigh I sometimes pull. There is no snow today though so I know it will be the little cart we take out, but I like those bells. Something about them makes me pick up my feet a bit higher. 

Master has a system for tacking me up that I cannot comprehend. All my harness hang on hooks in the tack room. I have seen them and they look, when hanging, like 100 mice tied together by the tail. Somehow he knows what goes where and in what order. This leather bits that go over my neck and against my shoulders first, strapped into place, then a long line that runs down my spine and circles the base of my tail. There are buckles that hold me to the traces on our carts and a large leather piece with three shiny buckles on it that circle my belly. Sometimes it tickles when he pulls that one tight and I will squeal. I'm not being bad - it just tickles and I can't be perfectly silent. I know thought that to fit properly it must be snug. It will slip and chafe otherwise.

I am getting excited to be out. I know from our routine that this is a weekend... he doesn't have to work later today so it we want to spend all day romping down the paths in our cart. Tomorrow too he will likely choose to be home and often spends more time with me. This won't be a fast 'we must exercise her before I go' run, He is taking his time and enjoying this as much as I am. He is even using a small comb on my mane and braiding it back off my neck today. I feel so proud when he does this as it shows off the small brand on the near side crest of my neck. Not every pony is branded thus and I am very proud to be one of few. Master says I should be proud, He is the man who held me steady when it was done, his strength mine to borrow and be brave with. His calm the ground that held me steady through pain of it. 

Those hands I will always trust now slip my bit between my teeth. It is the flexible rubber one which is not traditional for driving but my mouth is very soft and Master says he prefers I not drool down my chest like a venting horse. A proper driving bit makes everyone drool a little. Such bits are large and clumsy because the reins to a cart are long and don't telegraph much. But I am well trained and take very little rein to guide me. Master doesn't have to drag my head halfway to the west just to get me to make a turn. Just a little pressure and I know what is expected. Just as I know I am expected to stay standing now when he takes off the cross ties and my regular headstall, fastening this red leather one with small blinkers ( which are just squares of leather on either side to fix my vision forward) behind my ears. He smoothes my forelock over the brown band and gives each strap another tug and check before gathering the long reins and leading me into the spring morning. 

Even as I stumble a moment, barn blind and blinking, he guides me to the rubber pad I am to stand on while he sees to my feet. Before we go out he always makes sure they are clean, that my hooves are shiney, and that I am ready to go. By now I have my sight - what the blinkers allows me - and I can swing my head to look around for our cart. It is the little black trap he has pulled out of the shed and I toss my head once in approval. This cart is fancy but lightweight, made of highly polished black wood with tall red spoke wheels. The seat is up higher than the jog cart so my masters hands are higher when he guides the reins and I feel his gentle signals so well. I frisk and bump him with my head, wanting to share my pleasure. He is indulgent, not reprimanding me until he wants me to settle and back into the traces where he buckles my harness and straightens the reins. 

Next he does something unusual for us and ties the reins to the cart, reminding me I am to stay just as I am and wait patiently. So find myself in the stable yard alone while he disappears into the big house. Its not long but he comes back having groomed himself, wearing his shines boots and black clothing. He has a small overnight bag under his arm and I smell more soap than leather on his hands as he comes back to me. He runs those clean hands over my flesh, patting my neck and then my rump with pride before climbing into our cart. Its not completely unknown for him to dress up before we got out, but it isn't often either. Something special is happening but I haven't a clue what. Still it doesn't matter. He is with me, his hands on the reins, and we are about to do one of my favorite things in the world. Looking like a grand pair, a Master and his good pony, we move out of the yard and onto one of the mossy paths thought the woods. 

Master owns some of this land, I've never been sure how much, but our good neighbor and my Masters friend Sir James owns most of what I've ever crossed in harness. As far as I can go in a days trot is still on Sir James land it seems and we have permission to use all of it. There are rules - such as to close any gate we open, and that if we cross near the Sirs house we are to stop in and say hello. Master and Sir have even discussed once or twice pairing me with one of his pony's, and I beleive he means to drive us in tandem in a larger cart. I have taken both men in the jog cart before and while I am proud to say I could manage well I could not trot as briskly with both their weight behind me. 

Sir James has a pair of stallions who pull a large carriage together. I have seen my master ride in it with Sir James and a friend and did not like it. Its MY joy to take my Master anywhere, I would rather pull that big carriage alone and as many people as they care to throw into it, as see those stallions take my place again. I just hope if they want me to drive with another pony one day it will be my masters hands on my reins. I've never been driven by another and am not sure how frightened I would be without his guidance. He knows me so well. He knows when I am tired, when I have a stone in my shoe, when my flesh is raw from a strap rubbing - would another driver see these things? would - 

The light sting on my flank from the driving whip gets my attention - I had been trotting briskly and daydreaming while my Master was planning something else. He was guiding me into the tree lined path that led up to the big stable and yards of the very Sir whose plans and plots were distracting me from my own Master. I tried to appear apologetic when I twisted my head to look back at him. Again he knows me.

"It's alright Princess, some mornings are made for day dreams but today is a big day." He often explained things and spoke to me while we had these walks. "I want to slow you down so you don't arrive too sweaty - you look very fine this morning and I want to show you off a bit. James Is having a bit of weekend party with several like mined friends. Other pony's, their owners, group activities and such. This time we are going to both stay over too. I know its not the stable you are used to but you've seen it - its maybe a bit fancier than home but you outclass our good old barn anyway." 

I preened. Sometimes he complimented me like this. Some days, when he was proud of my looks or the way I stepped or how well he had trained me, I felt like a creature with 1000 years of good breeding who came out of a palace stable. But there's no place I would rather be than my own warm stall, piled high with clean straw and with my own blanket on me. Fancy was no replacement for home. But Master went on to say he had inspected the stall I would stay in himself and the blanket I would be borrowing for the night, even to make sure I would have honey oats in the morning and that he had no doubts about my comfort this one night from home. If I would follow those hands into fire, surely I could let them lead me into a strange stable for just one night.

**************************************************

When we were with in sight of Sir James home Master let me pick up my pace a bit, not too much faster mind, but to lift my feet and prance a little. I had found that when I bring my knees up high and sort of dance forward in this harness it makes my rump bounce a bit and the bells on the leather to jingle brightly. I also swish my long yellow tail, liking the way it tickles as it falls down the back of my legs.

My Master and I turn heads as we enter the stable yard - several of them as there are more people and creatures than I am used to. So many days its only Master and I, for days and days I see no one but him and occasionally Sir out and about with one or more of his creatures to accompany him. In the yard now are several pony's, in harnesses no less grand than mine, though I am the only one of us in red. In the small paddock, unharnessed, wearing only headstalls with bits and a chain lead rein are the stallions I know. Neither of them are tied - Master has said before they are poorly trained and have to be held steady. They will not stand as they should - and each have their own groom. Sir James own them, but most of their tending isn't done with his own hand. I often feel pity for the stallions, though each seems to put faith in the grooms here.

They are not the only stallions today, and I see them restless and the ends of their lead ropes, cresting their necks and glaring across the fence to the strangers on their land. That's why the bits and chain I think - to control them with strength if necessary. Stallions often fight and there are so many strangers today. Other young mares like myself, other stallions on the far side of the yard, and more than a dozen humans talking, stroking their creatures or drinking from stemmed glasses. 

My Master guides me to one side of the yard and has me back our shiny cart into a row of others. Some more simple, some just as fancy and fine. I startled when someone takes my bridle in hand before my Master has even taken his off the reins. I recognize the young male as one of those who is often cleaning the yard when we've been here before, but he has never touched me. No one really has head my bridle or reins except Master, and once Sir James when he asked to look me over when we first met. I did not like that then and I did not care for it now but Master was already out of the cart and alongside me, quietly but firmly correcting the male. Telling him you would no more grab the bridle of a pony under control than you would touch a collar that Sir had place on a pet. The boy apologizes sufficiently for Master to nod and let him go without more fuss and Master tied off my reins, telling me to remain here for now.

So I slipped into gentle patience as best I could when surrounded by strangers and sound and my own nervousness. I turned my head about a bit to see what I could. There was another pony besides myself well trained enough to trust with being tied to his cart. A handsome dark fleshed and bright eyed stallion, who seemed remarkably calm compared to the high strung pair if Sir James, who even now were making a fuss while people guests admired their build and height. I murmured a very soft greeting to this nearby stranger though..., soft enough he could ignore me if he'd been told to behave or disregard others, But no, he returned my greeting in a soft warm tone, less shy than myself he gave me his name - Sebastian - and requested mine. 

I am embarrassed to say I've never been certain. My Master calls me by several things - Good girl and Princess get equal play. Occasionally "My Brat" is used - but that's mostly on duck pond days. It doesn't matter what he calls me, as long as I hear that voice I will gallop to it. As long as I hear his steps in my stable I will wake and look for him in the early morning dark. 

This is what I admit to my new companion...but put in a more condensed way as "My name is whatever Master wishes it to be at the moment he speaks," which I think sounds like a lovely answer but it makes the dark pony laughs at me! Offended I turn my head away from him, planning to ignore him but he doesn't really let me, He bumps my shoulder and apologies, but as he's still got amusement in his voice its hard to buy. He says he will just call me Angel since I'm apparently a pony saint, and I tell him be quiet my Master is coming. 

Which turns out of be true, though in that moment I was just being snippy and feeling offended, but a moment later my Master was there, sliding his hands and their good smells under my bridle to stroke my face. I leaned against him to steady myself as he turned to the companions he had brought with him. Sir James seemed to want to show he already knew me as well as he stood on my other side and strokes my neck. It is not unpleasant and I know in the past Master has given his permission for these little familiarities so I behave as I know I should, nickering a soft greeting to our host and my Masters friend. I could tell that pleased him. They all continued some conversation they had apparently started before coming into my hearing, something and conformation and lines and temperament. Nothing I really know how to follow so I pay it little mind.

I knew Master was wanting people to admire his pony so I lifted my feet high and held my head up as he unstrapped my harness from the cart and bound up the trailing edges so I could walk about still in tack and not have any bits trailing the ground to trip me or get dirty. I felt another strangers hand go over my rump an pat it. Startled I shied and kicked, causing people to step back quickly and my Master to jerk uncharacteristically hard on my reins, yanking my head down.

"Behave," was his only word to me as he lead me in a circle away from the human people for a moment to settle me. Someone raised their voice to offered him a red ribbon for my tail if I was bad for kicking and I lowered my head a bit, ashamed.

I resolved to try and bear whatever came next. If Master brought me here it was safe, so I need not jump. I may not enjoy other people touching me but if my Master was permitting it must be acceptable. I was there to make him proud of a pretty, spirited, but well trained pony - not ashamed of a nag. I bumped his shoulder with my face, hoping he would know I knew what was expected and would do my best for him and his grip on my leads did seem to ease just a touch.


Pony Named Pleasure



He brought me where the most people were, by the fence beside Sir James stallions. They grew more restive as we came near, the slightly taller one I believe Sir had named Flames actually jerked at his head, earning himself a pull of the lead and the chain pinching his chin as he made to move closer to me. I pranced in place, unused to either of the stallions showing this much spirit or aggression. While we have never been friends I have also never been intimidated by them before. The people-humans seemed amused by his display rather than upset and Sir actually suggested to my Master that we bring me closer, to see how I'd act at 'teasing' Flames. The other - Coal - was lead further from his brother. My master wasn't sure about this it seemed and insisted I not go inside the fence yet. -Yet? But led my trembling body close to the gate as Flames lead was loosened at his Sirs direction and he was allowed to rush to me.

He seemed to want to be right against me and would have pressed his flesh to my own where there not wooden rails between us. I stepped in place high and nervous as he reached his head and neck toward mine with a gentleness that belied his excited body language and nipped my neck where it met my shoulder. I stamped my hoof, then banged it against then fence when I felt my displeasure had not been noted... hoping my Master would lead me away soon. In my heart I wished he would just let me take us home. I am a creature of habit..., from the moment we stepped on the path today has been not-routine and I didn't have to like it. 

My nervousness and discomfort was eventually noted and I was allowed to move away from Flames into a small group of people who had mares like myself on leads. Easier at heart I leaned into my Masters strength and tried to follow the rapid conversation.

"Of Course you have right to veto anything - she's all yours after all and if you don't agree to the match -"

"But it really is good form to agree - unless you have a really good reason - it spoils the fun of everyone getting together to make the decisions if someone says " no I don't want to do this." 

"-of course but at the end of the day these ponies are private property, you say who does what, and with what, if you own something "

"-but may not get invited back next season-"

"We all have everyone's best interests at heart. Spring season is good fun for all and James puts on such a show, You'll see. Belle and I had such fun last year didn't we pet?" The woman speaking reached over to stroke the side of a very pale elegant pony who stood near her, but held by another groom, much as Sir James stallions where often held by others. Some things I am not meant to understand I think. I focus less on the group and only on my Masters warm voice

"So do we just lunge the mares to show them off? or what is expected?" I saw one of the women nod. "And then we stable the mares look over the stallions and all discuss it over lunch?" 

There was amusement in his voice. Something that made my Master happy couldn't be bad, surely.

Not long later our host clapped his hands - startling a couple of the mares near me, but as my head was resting on Masters shoulder all was right with my world and I didn't care about the loud sound. Master was stroking me under the chin in my favorite way and I was half dozing in the weak springtime warmth. 

Sir James called for the stallions to be removed from the sandy ring and the mares to be brought in. A groom appeared at Masters side quietly suggesting he allow the young male to take my harness off so my viewers would not be distracted from my legs by all the bells and leather. My Master held my head and allowed this other human to take my harness off. This just didn't sit right with me, there was no petting or care in the un tacking for one thing, just quick efficiency, but those hands held my lead rope and his thumb stroked my cheek below my eye... everything is alright if Master says it is. It must be, and at least it was Masters hand who held the cloth he ran quickly over my now bare flesh, giving me a quick polish before he led me to the ring.

Lunging is easy, Its one of the first things Master trained me to do. Long before I had the privilege of pulling his cart but right after I came to live in his stable we started on the long line. Master stands in the middle of an invisible circle and guides me with one long line attached to my headstall or bridle. When I was new at this work I wore a band around my middle as well with reins guided through the loops in it and Master used this to teach me to carry my head in the correct proud arch, as well as to learn signals from the reins when he walked behind me. Today I knew how to carry my head and I knew the signals even with only the guidance of a lead. Master would turn so he always faced me and I would step around in an invisible ring at a walk, trot or canter as he instructed me. I knew that he wanted me to impress his friends so I tried to look my best.

I try and make each step high with a little snap and a bounce in legs. I step like any proud creature would... but its in my trot I am most graceful. I even hear the word elegant used to describe me, and when my Master asks for me to turn and go the opposite direction I extend my legs and try and make the transition as smooth and fluid as any show pony would at dressage. We continue this for some time, moving through my gaits and Master has me cantering for several minutes, until my hide is shiny with sweat and even I am ready to lower my head a bit. 

When he brings me to a halt I think we are done but its to my shock he hands the small thing driving whip - which he seldom ever uses, and my rein to one of the women he had been talking to. Her gloved hand conveys confidence to me even down the length of leather - but she's not MINE, nor I hers. I don't understand this and continued not to understand even when she flicks the whip on my thigh and tells me to walk on. She does so a second time before my long and thorough training takes hold and I find myself listening to her commands. I don't move with the grace or high steps I gave for my Master but I give her the walk, trot, and canter she demands of me. I try, each time I pass by the fencepost against which he leans, to catch my Masters eye and understand what is going on. 

This Lady Sir - Mistress I learn later is the term - does not work me long. Just enough to test me out as she tells Master when he returns to her for my rein. She tells him I'm lovely but spoiled and nervous. That I need to get out and exposed to new things and others handling more - for my own sake. Master neither agrees or disagrees with her within my hearing. They do discuss taking the pale Belle and myself out together - to make a picnic of it -but I'm unsure if this Mistress means to harness us mares as a team or to each take our own cart. Master seems to like the idea, whichever it is. 

We come back to that other pony, still being handled by a groom and Master asks for me to stand shoulder to shoulder with her. We are built similarly he says - equal height and long elegant legs. He asks the Lady Sir - Mistress - if Belles trot is as graceful as mine. The Lady laughs, saying not quite, but she's sure we can find a comfortable pace together. She tells the groom to put us in stalls near each other, to let we mares become accustomed to one another while their Master and Mistress attend the lunch and look over the stallions. 

Again someone not my Master is touching me and its the same groom who holds Belle with his right hand, accepting my reins from Master into his left! Master has handed me over to another person like these rest of these ponies? I snort and yank on my reins, completely displeased and starting to back away from the groom only to have one sharp yank on my reins cause my bridle bite me painfully behind the ears. I stand stock still for a moment, considering lunging forward this time and biting when I feel the sharper crack of a well known - well Loved! - hand on my rear. Its Masters hand but he has struck me! For almost nothing! Offended, hurt, and not a little embarrassed I look back to see him glare. 

"Walk on. Behave yourself," is all he says before crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't smack me like that the night he let me sleep covered in pond mud... but he did cross his arms. Was he cross because he was trying to impress the Lady Sir? She was the one who said I needed more handling...Oh... 

I lowered my head and slunk after the groom, who tugged my reins again and led me and the other mare towards those too grand stables. Away from my Master. 

About the stables themselves I should not complain. They are fine in the grandest sense of that word. The center isle is concrete - slick to walk on in metal shoes perhaps but it was easy to keep sparkling clean. Still I like the sand floor we had at home. Here there are tons of electric lights down the aisle and one in each stall as well so nighttime can be bright as day if desired. Home was not exactly dark and dank..., but sometimes the warm embrace of shadows can be a comfort. Particularly when one is embarrassed.

It was much too bright to be cross tied and brushed down in. But perhaps that was because the brushing was done with unfamiliar hands. The strange brush was just as soft but the strokes too quick. There was no Masters hand on my skin to center my world. Only a groom who held my bridle in one hand and the brush in the other, using it to give me a fast cleaning before taking out my bit, putting me in simply a headstall, and setting me into a large box stall. 

I wandered this area, circling nervously several times, kicking up the tiny pine shavings that they used as bedding here. Hay hung in a basket, clean water in a large bucket in the opposite corner and when I settled enough to notice it I drank deeply. There was no straw for a comfortable mound of bedding, just the pine which looked neater and cleaner. It was deep at least and not horrible to lay on. Just not home. I was unable to nap as I had hoped. I wanted to sleep until my Master came for me, but was not lucky enough to slip away the hours that way. 

It was afternoon when the stallions came back. A line of them trailed into the stable each of them cross tied and brushed down as I had been, and stabled on the opposite side of the aisle from we mares. None of them were quiet or calm save for the bright eyed fellow I had met earlier. He was large and strong looking as any of them but did not call out or rear or fling himself at this barred door as the others did. The cacophony of their frustration caused me to fidget and sweat and I wanted OUT, kicking my own door once in protest. A stable should be a quiet haven but they were making it sound like a Warfield. Sebastian snorted once but I had the feeling it was directed at me and my own outburst. Instead of him joining his brothers and I turned my eye to him. 

He was stalled directed across the isle from me and he rubs his face against the bars as he watches me. Calmly. His posture and eyes seeming to telegraph there was nothing to worry about, to be calm. To wait for Master as he would wish. I took a deep breath and held onto the scent of my Masters hands. I could endure this nightmare and all would be well when he had his hands on my again. I would wait for his hands... I blew a soft breath out to Sebastian, a thanks for his calm which had grounded me. 

Most of those Males had calmed after a while - save for Flame at the far end who would randomly shout and kick his door. He never seemed to get tired, only angry. I still did not understand what he was angry about - but it wasn't my place to worry about it anyway. Belle and I did not have too long to stay. She and I were both led out and put in similar harnesses. It wasn't one of my own but it fit well enough after the groom adjusted some buckles. Black leather with a few straps I wasn't used to, Besides the crupper - the bit that runs under my tail - there were extra pieces that went over my quarters and fastened down my thighs, These pulled on my legs just a bit when I stepped high but otherwise were seemingly there for show. The blinders had silver trim and the bridle was a double fashion with the kind of double bit Master never liked to use, but I suppose I was supposed to match Belle. From her calm acceptance I assumed this was gear she was used to. I felt a little silly as the groom fixed a feathered plume to the top section of the bridle and when I shook my head I could feel the feathers waving back and forth. My red harness had come with plumes but master never attached them.

The last strap before we were led out was completely new to me at least. it was a clipped bit of leather that ran from my bridle behind the ear down to a hook on the harness at the lower curve of my back. This small rein held my head in check and very still. I would be able to neither turn my head nor lower it from his highest position without a great hard pull on my bridle. Never never had i worn a check rein - I had never needed it! I always carried myself well. 

I tried to be calm. If I were harnessed I would certainly see Master soon and he would set things right.

In the stable yard was a green painted cart. It had one center bar to attach two ponies with the bar between them instead of my double traces that I would stand between. The groom fastened my harness to the near - or left - side, putting Belle on the right. Even now she seemed so spiritless and didn't speak. I had tried to be friendly earlier and speak between the bars of our stalls and she had barely paid attention to me. I didn't dislike her but was far from feeling like she were a friend or herd mate. I stamped, restless but still trying to be good, while waiting for my Master. Our reins were straightened and with the afternoon sunlight on our smooth bodies we stood, waiting our Master and Mistress pleasure with one groom, surely as bored as we, holding both of our sets of reins under our chins. 

When the human people came out they were accompanied by Sir James, who from his tone was in a very good mood. He spoke of wanting a painting of us, as we looked so fine together. The light voice of the Mistress agreed. Masters voice was low and I did not hear what he said about it, but even the sightless inflection on his voice was my music and I danced in place, happy to hear him as I could barely see him, unable to turn my head much. When he came in view I saw he carried a picnic basket much as we would take with us when he wanted a long afternoon out and would take sandwiches for himself and treats and oats for me. His other arm was up and bent in front of him with the Mistress arm looped through his the way I had seen other men lead ladies about. He led her thus to green cart and I heard him placing the basket under the seat. I could not see behind me now but heard both of them getting into the cart. I believe with Master lifting the Lady into place. 

Sir James was at my head now giving me the kind pat on the neck I had expected Master to greet me with. "You fillies look fantastic together. It's a pleasure to see you pull one of my carts." 

Sir ran his hands slowly down my side, reached to rub his palm over Belles face, and patted my rump before stepping back. I confirmed the Mistress was the one with our reins when she clucked to us, had us step out at a fast walk, and I felt a flick of her driving whip on my hip when Belle moved on without me. Harnesses jingled and I scrambled to get my feet under me as we tried to find a stride together. Belle was the most unanimated pony I had known right up to the moment her Mistress had given command. She was a different, purposeful animal, now that her ladies hands held her. I could understand that feeling. It made me like Belle a bit more. 

With the extra weight of a second person the going was not hard and the Mistress guided us onto one of the paths I knew to be almost entirely flat going. Few hills. It was a wide path with a deep footing of cinders which made a pleasant crunch sound under our hooves. Mistress seemed to favor the whip as a signal opposed to the reins and it was a whip snap that she used to move us into a trot. My head was tied up by the check rein as proudly as I ever carried it and I found myself moving into a high stepping trot to match, moving myself like a hackney might. Belle made the effort to match me as we moved in my favorite fairy footed trot and we went forward briskly thought not very far. The orchard path, which we were on, takes one just far enough not to be in sight of the house and carries either into the pear orchard itself with its shade and cool grasses, or you can take the right hand and continue into open fields.

Trotting we were well into the orchard in less than 20 minutes and the Lady pulled us up under one of the oldest trees. I heard her tie off the reins to the cart seat and Master help her down, taking her and the basket to a grassy patch in the sunshine he settled her and returned to us. This was to my relief and apparently her disappointment, for she called after him that we were FINE, an could stand tied a little while. Verbally I did hear him agree, and while he neither untied nor untacked us, both of us mares had that check rain loosed so while standing we could at least turn our heads and relax our necks. He also ran his hands over us both - quick and gentle and checked our legs and feet for swelling or heat or rocks in our shoes. Satisfied for now me gave me a pat and returned to the Lady. 

A horse or pony is an animal born to serve. We are ridden or pull carriage, We wait in stables or tied to posts, we wait in the mornings for our care, in the evenings to be put away like a well loved toy. We wait. A good well trained pony can slip into a space where time means little - how does a tied pony exist without her Master? All she is waiting. I suspect Belle spent a great amount of her life in the hands of a groom, waiting for those moments of attention from her mistress. I wait very little. Perhaps I am spoiled but I believe my Master values the time he spends on me as much as I value him. Or nearly so. I usually think so but today this human-person has so much of his attention. When she speaks he is listening, I can tell from the way he meets her eyes or tilts his head. He is not just being polite he is actually absorbing her words.

I watch them and try to just wait..., but inside my head I feel sick and green and don't like him listening to her. I don't like that he let her drive me. I don't like the color of her eyes or the way the sunlight makes her hair shine or frame her pretty face. I very much don't like when he puts a hand on her cheek and gently pulls her face to his own, his lips brushing hers.

I hate her laughter as she pushes my Master down by his shoulders and leans her body across him, sharing a kiss with him that is nothing like the gentle one he gave to her. She looks like a wolf that might eat him and indeed I hear him hiss when she pulls back a bit, biting his lower lip. I start to take a step forward to defend my Master to find Belle with her heels planted firmly bracing me and the cart and shaking her head. Very softly she tells me its what humans DO when we go out together without others.

"They will mate and we will wait," she says, very matter of fact. 

I consider biting Belle or dragging her and the cart and the tree if need be, forward against everyone's will but my own, but when I look back my Master certainly doesn't appear to be attempting escape. He is sitting up now with the Lady across his lap and he has two fingers hooked through the satin lacing on the back of her corset. He has those laces pulled tighter than I think they are supposed to and she's a little pale and gasping. It reassures me to know at least he is in control of this situation.




Pony Named Pleasure



My ears perk up as I hear that well loved voice say 'good girl' but I slump when I understand it is not me he is saying those words to. He's using My words on the Lady as his free hand smooth's down the front of her corset, reaches into the top of it and pulls out the small mound of her right breast. It is about the size of her fist. Fists which clinch and twist full of handfuls of my Masters shirt, as thought she's trying to hold onto him with all her strength. He lowers his mouth to the pink peak of that breast I cannot see more, though from her gasp I assume he is letting the corset laces loosen. He carries on as he is for minutes before pulling her other breast to the top of the corset and lowering his head to it as well. 

The Lady looks limp most of the time in his arms though occasionally she will moan or buck her hips. During one of these bucks both his hands go to her thighs and grip her there tightly, forcing her against his body and trapping her. She shudders and her small quick fingers go to his shirt, slipping each button from it place and baring his chest to her. I see the broad reach of his bare back as he takes then both down onto their sides on the picnic blanket and the grass bed and I see little else for a time as his body blocks whatever it is he does to her. I hate that, from her cat-I-heat moaning she's enjoying it though.

I wait. Belle waits. We can both smell the musk of our humans arousing one another. Belle seems barely awake, suspended in the timeless state I know I should achieve too. But my Master fascinates me and whenever they trade positions on the blanket I see something about the behavior of a Master and a Mistress together. At one point my master lays on his back, still wearing his pants though they are not fastened closed. His boots and shirt somewhere under one of the trees not far away. The Lady is still wearing her corset and boots for he told her he loves them both and wants her thus. Her skirt and the little shawl she wore earlier I think are in the picnic basket though I am not certain. Most of her is as bare as a pony though, if you think of the corset as a bit of harness strapping and the boots she wears as our fine shoes. She lacks a bridle or even a headstall though, and lacks a tail. Still, if my Master wants her who am I to judge? 

I have never thought of how like a stallion Master looks either. Certainly he is much calmer than any there today save Sebastian. But as he lays back I see his organ stand stiff and away from his body, just as most of the stallions in the stable came in today. His breathing is faster than usual - as all of theirs were. The lady slides down his body until hers is laying over his legs and her mouth is near that part of him, Looking up at him she licks the tip of him lightly as I would take a sugar cube from his fingers, with care and gentleness. She does more though and curls her tongue around the swollen tip of him and runs her lips down the length. Her hands reach lower and seem to stroke in a way that pleasures and my Master groans softly putting a hand in her disheveled hair as she puts the whole of her mouth around him, suckling at his organ as a foal would its dam - except more and more until she's made all of this length disappear into her mouth and presumably her throat.

She pulls back, breathes quickie, and does this again. Several times, withdrawing slowly each time and licking the tip before returning her mouth. Masters eyes are shut and his breath quick, and somehow it sees like the Lady is back in control. She seems to illustrate this with a long slowly scratch of her nails down my masters thigh, leaving 4 red lines in his skin but the sound he makes is defiantly a pleasure sound. 

She sits up now over him and shifts forward so the cleft of her two legs is seated against the base of his own groin and while I cannot make out her words threes a playful tease in her tone when she speaks to Master. His answer is hazy with the same pent up frustration tone that the stallions had when brought in today and as she rubs her body slowly on his he growls at her putting his hands on her legs. Clearly a threat that he will take over very soon. She seems sensible enough for a human-person at least and does what he must be ordering - moving herself forward and accepting my Masters organ into the hollow of her body.

I watch, fascinated now, as their bodies shudder together, not just where they are coupled together, but all over. The Lady moans as he finds his way within her and for a moment they are both still. An interloper adjusting to her body and vise versa. It is she that moves first, rocking herself forward and back on him, her hands using his shoulders to balance herself and her movements. A few long moments later and Masters hands run up her legs, stroking her as gently as he strokes my flesh, until he grips her bare buttocks in his large hands. He uses his grip to propel her smaller body, pulling her down, lifting her, twisting her against his hips as it pleases him. 

They kiss again for long moments until he breaks away and his lips leave kisses down her neck. Where human neck meets bare human shoulder he pauses, not kissing but sucking, bringing blood up to purposefully bruise her skin before biting her there sharply and her cry of pain is a catalyst to him. Still gripping her body to him he turns them, rolls them off the blanket and into the grass alone. With she on her back and he pinning her there with his body and with his still deeply embedded maleness. The pace of their coupling is his to set entirely now and he is moving faster. His body drives against hers and I hear flesh smack hard into flesh. When she raises her hands he catches both in one of his own and holds her down with her arms pinned above her head, held fast in every way. Why does it please me so to see my Master in power over this Lady? All I know is that it does, and in my world Master should always be the one to set the pace. If I were in the Ladies place, I tell myself, I would have already known that. 

**********************************************

There is little to detail about the ride home. Before the sun had set the Master and Mistress found their clothing and he helped her dress, getting her breast back in the corset, most of the grass brushed from her skirt, and he even helped her hair look a little better but putting it in one long tail braid for her. She insisted the check reins be tightened again on us and he consented, though he took our reins on this drive back.

In the stable yard he did allow grooms to take us, though he followed and had a look at my stall, making sure I think, that everything was in order. The harness and gear all taken off me and I was led away from him in only a headstall and hooves to be washed thoroughly. Again my groom was through and efficient, his hands neither callus nor overly kind, but I could not say I was mishandled. Only lonely for my Master, who had disappeared again back to the company of humans.

The groom unbraided my mane, letting it flow down my neck in a waterfall of gold. He dried me and brushed out my tail before wrapping it in red gauze so it stuck out a little from my rump, it felt strange to swish it like that, but again not unpleasant. He then wrapped my legs with cotton and gauze, much the way Master had the one time we had taken long trip in a trailer and he said he didn't want me to bruise myself. I found this odd since I were just going into a stall for the night..., but odd was the tone for the day, and I was weary. I settled in the pine shavings,, wishing for my own straw filled box and my good blue blanket, and slept at last.

********************************************

While I still truly believe most people mean no harm I believe now there are some who are selfish enough that if a thing pleases them it doesn't matter that it cause pain or fear to another creature. Especially a lesser creature like a simple pony. And some humans are perverse in their pleasures and are only happy if they are forcing another will to their own. For a thousand years and more man has chosen mates for mares, this is something we know and accept, but force and fear do not have to be part of it. 

It was before the sun rose that the grooms came through and woke us. They bustled about brushing pine shavings from flesh and untangling manes. A human with a clip board came to each of us. He checked my brand on my neck and moved to the next stall checking Belles halter tag before coming back to me. He consulted my groom. "It says these two are with Flames and Coal but doesn't specify which to which. Did Sir Jams say anything to you?" my groom shook his head "Hmm, well you have been handling them all night, what are your thoughts?"

"This one" the groom nodded to Belle, "is the calmer of the two. The neighbors mare is flightily, she's kicked a couple times and you can tell she's thinking about biting from time to time. She's going to be a handful whoever you put her to. If it were me, I'd give Belle to Coal since that situation will handle itself - and see if Flames can control this one so we don't have to worry about controlling him also. Personality wise she's probably a match for his temper anyway. Worst case scenario you get a good show for the guests."

The man with the clipboard shook his head. 

"Spoiled, she's just spoiled not mean, I think, and since she's maiden mare I'm not so sure..., still - " he looks from me to Belle. "If one of them has to be terrorized may as well be the one that has enough spirit to make a good show of it. Alright, the neighbor mare and Flames will go second. I want Coal to cover Belle first - no reason to make Flames think that just because he acts psychotic in springtime that he will always get what he wants when he wants it."

I was thoroughly confused and asked Belle as we were both led from the stable into pre dawn light and chill what was going to happen. She rolled one eye at me and her voice was derisive. "Seriously? I know you are green in training but you've never even been around when another mare was bred?"

I balk and stumble in surprise and get my rump smacked for it with the long end of the lead rope, apparently grooms aren't terribly permissive in the early morning.

"You saw last night our Mistress mating with your man. Every spring they choose which pony mare and stallion will mate together. We are being taken to the breeding shed and will be covered by their choices. Mistress brings me here each year for this event. Most times she comes down to the shed and watches."

I am shivering and it's not the dark wetness of the air. "Will Master be there?"

Belle tosses her head and tells me it's likely, though sometimes the watch from the big house by camera instead. "They did that last year - it was too cold for humans so they just made a video. I am to understand they watched at luncheon and congratulated one another on their choices of our mates. The dog told me so."

The breeding shed wouldn't have seemed ominous if it were a sunny day perhaps. Or maybe if I were half sick with terror. I knew what every mare knows of breeding or course. Our mate is chosen and we are put with him and the next spring we may birth a foal for our Masters who will grow up as Master sees fit. Raised, trained, sold - such are our lives. The part about being put with a stallion has always been a little vague though and while I saw my Master and the Lady in the orchard yesterday it doesn't seem quite like a pony would mate. We don't bend quite the same. I was glad I understood enough to know that Belles breeding would be before mine, and hopefully my questions would be answered. Hopefully once we were there they would give my lead rope to Master and he would hold my face in his hands. I would smell soap and leather and would be told what he expected of me. All would be well in his hands.

The shed was dimly lit compare to the stable and though Belles Mistress was there I had neither sight nor scent of my Master. I fidgeted but did my best to be patient for him, to behave as my companion was led away from me and into the center of the area, to a very tight three sided stall with her hindquarters facing the room and her face well forward over the front of it, her halter in her Ladies hands. 

There was commotion from the door and both our mates entered. Flames was like an angrily wasp being held in check with two grooms and a whip, and though his brother Coal had his own energy and intensity he was barely a shadow to his brother. Flames was pulled back hard, the chain of his halter had been bitted through his mouth and must have hurt but even this barely controlled him, while Coal was taken closer to Belle. Flames screamed while Coal stepped up to his mate and pressed his chest against her, nibbling her pale hide. In her normal fashion she reacted little, practically ignoring the stallion while worshipping her mistress fingertips with her lips.

I saw how a we - mares - are taken by stallions and it is nothing like the taking of a woman except in intensity. Coal shifted, reared and covered her, and though I could not see detail I assumed his rigid organ filled my stable mate the way Masters body had been inside the Ladies. Coals hips bunched with muscle and he thrust deeply, rapidly while Belle finally squealed and was forced to brace her body against again onslaught of his. Both of their bodies carried a sheen of sweat and before Coal dismounted Belles shoulder held bite marks that would bruise while they hadn't yet broken her hide. Coal lowered from her body, pleased and spent and then humans applauded as he was led away, relaxation and pleasure in his stride. Belle was handed to a groom and led out as well. It seemed over quickly.

I looked again for my Master, seeing only two faces I knew, the Lady and Sir James. My groom was leading me to both of them as they stood speaking to one another " - we should defiantly record it for him but really, I left him rather spent in bed. He signed off on either of your two stallions before we slept though so im sure it will be fine. Be sides if you keep Flame any longer I think he will set the stables on fire" 

"Well if you are sure -," Sir was answering the Lady as I was led up and he reached out for my chin, rubbing my face.. His hands smelled of soap but never of leather. " I think one of us had best hold her head then if he isn't here, She's a nervous little thing and a maiden mare. " 

"Then I will stand with her," that snake of a woman said with a smile to Sir. "You saw how calm I can make Belle, and I was a maiden once too - I'm not sure you were a virgin even when you were born however, Sir James. You can go inside and see to your guests, make sure the recording is started, and I will take charge here. He did let me drive her yesterday so we are used to one another, aren't we Pet?" 

She turned that smile on me and took my lead from the groom before Sir could give his assent or not. He did follow her advice though and in moments that woman had robbed me of another point of comfort, for he was gone and she, as she said - took charge.

I was led where Belle had been but with changes. The Mistress had a groom tie string to my tail and hand it to her.. With that string she pulled my tail up and aside, leaving my soft parts completely exposed to the stallion I could still hear in the shadows behind me. She pulled hard on my headstall and my head down she tied me tightly to the bar, then put her hands on my cheeks as if she were soothing or comforting me. When I rolled my eyes up to meet hers though I could see she knew. She Knew I was frightened and confused. She knew without my Master I was lost in the dark with strangers. She knew and it pleased her as surly as my Masters body had pleased her in the orchard. I've never know hate in this pony heart until the moment she and I understood each other perfectly - and I was tied too tightly to lash out at her.

I screamed, and kicked instead at the stallion they were bringing to me, who lunged just as savagely and bit my left flank. Kicking again I think I hit a groom and earned a hard strike from a crop the Lady held now in her fist. I bucked and bruised my other hip against the rails as I tried to rear and break the lead, the headstall, or my neck, whichever one gave first but found myself wrestled down by grooms.

Minutes of confusion and pain, fighting and screaming - but from the human people and myself, found me hobbled, with three of my limbs tied to posts and one foot bound up off the ground, forcing me to use my strength to stay upright and completely unable to kick. The Lady was still at my head, smiling, finger combing my mane as if I were her special pet and she was pleased with me. 

She lifted her hand to wave at a groom and I heard Flames charge towards me I felt the heat of his body as he covered me and my trembling legs fought to hold both our bodies. He was lunging forward, maddened by this frenzy of his to take me before his organ ever penetrated. His sweating body tight against my own. Without even my tail to impede him he found his way home and forced my body open. I screamed and thrashed as much as I could. Knowing you cannot fight your way free has no bearing on wither you fight with all your being or not. 

Goddess why did it had to hurt so much? So Deep? It was like I could feel his penetration in my belly. My body burned wherever his flesh scorched mine and my insides ached. 

He lunged forward again, driving his own flesh deeper - how could he even get deeper? -and I cried... not anger now just fear and pain. My body burned were Flames bit me, my pride burned, my heart broke. Could I have endured this if Masters hands held my head? I tried to imagine the scent of soap and leather, while my being was violated by the beast covering my body... this was just too much.

I saw Red. All the humiliation of this and my sense of betrayal from these people and my fear and hurt and RED was the only bright word and color and touchstone in my mind. RED, and the word, in English, roared by itself out of my throat...

*****************************************

The building was still dimly lit but warmer. Someone had covered me with a blanket and brought a bottle of cold water while I was untied. There had been a moments debate about removing my boots and headstall but someone said softly they had called the big house and He was on his way. Part of me that was floating and unfocused wondered if He would my Master or Sir, and if it mattered as long as there was one person I could trust again.

It did matter and I heard a very angry version of Masters voice from outside, his words indiscernible, his tone apocalyptic. I started to try and gather my feet under me, but standing up from the floor in pony girl boots is an art that was beyond me at the moment. Before I could re-master it He was there in the floor beside me, gathering me like a hurt child to him. He had come running to me without even bothering to put on his shirt. Just sleep pants and bare feet and his belly became soaked with my tears as I pressed my face into his skin and sobbed and breathed in my comfort.

He held me and warmed me while I shook. He whispered apologies for not being there and threats of severe harm to bodies and reputations of those who had been, starting with that woman who did not wake him. He coaxed me to drink the water and gave me gentle strokes of his fingers on the back of my neck. At length, when my face was starting to dry he lifted my chin with a fingertip and kissed my eyes. He asked the question I dreaded when he felt I was strong enough to think about it. "Do you want me to take off the boots and bridle Princess? We can go home right now if you want to. "

Now that I was safe - I know its crazy - but I didn't. Up until things went bad I was relishing this weekend. Hell I loved every weekend we spent together and any time I got this deep into my pony head space. I had BEEN a pony since I went to bed Friday night in our barn and I lived for this. Did part of me want a bubble bath and to put on sweatpants and watch Doctor Who reruns on the couch for the rest of the holiday weekend? Good old Tom Baker episodes all afternoon? Split a package of Oreos with him and brew some coffee? Of course part of me wanted to. But another part of me was embarrassed at safe wording. I know that John insists - Master that is- insists that I should Never be afraid to call out if its something I truly can't take. Despite everything else, the fact that everyone around me had instantly respected that universal call reinforced that at the end of the day there was safety and sanity in what we all did to and with each other...




Pony Named Pleasure



I was afraid if I left now it would be too easy next time something was difficult. That I wouldn't be as free inside my head if I was always looking for a place to draw the line. 

So I said "no" softy. I asked for a hand up, and when I was standing I hugged Master tightly, wiped the last two of my own tears, and gave my head a shake. "I'm ready... just, stay with me when I'm out of the stall and if that Woman touches me again I will find her on Tuesday and run her over with Your truck."

He laughed and kissed my forehead and stroked my check. "You're sure Princess? " I nodded, adjusted my tail belt and bent down to brush some dirt from the toe of my shining pony boots "If you are sure - do you think you want to try this again, the way it should have been? Different guy of course, Flames is a little too rough I think... but I don't want you to be screwed up by one bad experience."

When I gauged his smile I know that my last English answer of the day was the one he hoped for. " What happens next to this pony is in her Masters hands"

***********************************************

When I was led out the sun had fully come up. I was surprised to see Sir James waiting in the courtyard, apparently for us. My master spoke before he could ask, telling his friend I would be okay, that after he groomed me the two of them should talk privately though. Sir asked only then if there was anything he could get us, or do, and was told succinctly that if any hand but his own, be it groom or guest, touched my Masters pony the rest of the weekend that my Master would set that person on fire. I'm fairly sure, knowing Master, that he wasn't actually joking. 

So no grooms hand touched me back in the stables. Master washed me very thoroughly and when it came to my softest places very gently. But I felt clean and much myself again when he was finished and by the time he had toweled my mane dry and put me in the cross ties my world was starting to make sense. A bad thing happened... that was getting a little more hazy... but Master made things right and I was safe and his -and clean. It felt so good not to have fear sweat and the scent of the wrong male on my skin. - Damn! I was remembering again. I kept kicking up bad thoughts when I wanted to float. Callused hands were on me now, one to steady me, the other to pass the brush over my flesh. The scent of leather and soap in my nostrils and the gentle tug of the leads on my halter as I started to lower my head and the crossties pulled me up, keeping me from dozing on my feet. 

Master finished his grooming by seeing to my feet. He made sure the boots weren't dirty, no rocks in my shoes, and my laces were tied up tight at my knee. My tail was long and free and my mane left down to flow over my neck. He led me into the stall, tossed a blanket across my shoulders and told me to rest. That he would see me soon. Weary, I sank into the pine shavings, snuggled myself under the blanket, and trusted enough to sleep.

It was late afternoon when he woke me and my belly protested my lack of breakfast, long forgotten in the mornings events. I didn't rise but let him come to me this once and he settled in my stall with his back against one wall and myself laying against him. He fed me oatmeal with honey and almonds and strawberries from his fingertips. One bite at a time and then licking his fingers clean for him. Then he coaxed me into eating half a banana - which I hate but he insists on getting something besides oatmeal into me from time to time when we play. Food I mean. I keep telling him two days on nothing but oatmeal and berries is a way better diet than most of my Irish ancestors ever had. Last time I said that his response was to make me eat a potato. There are times when a Master who isn't a smart ass seems like fun possibility. Oops... wrong headspace again. Damn, it had been such a great weekend too.

There are times when the man is truly insightful and can sense I'm not where I want to be. Instead of asking me hard questions like if I were too sore, he stands me up and uses his hands to learn what he wants to know. His touches are gentle but probing and while in a spot of two I wince he seems satisfied for the moment that I'm not unduly damaged. He changes my halter for a bridle, - my own with the soft bit, and brings me outside.

There are a few people around, other guests who seem to want to ask how I am and yet know enough to not intrude just now. Good people, I remember thinking, as he leads me to the ring where yesterday I went through my paces on the long line. Today it is that kind of schooling again. Physical exercise paired with a chance to simply lose myself in the command of my Masters voice and rein and the light flick of the whip on my flank. I am excited for this and frisk in place, accidentally bumping Him with my body in my exuberance and earning the light smack of reprimand. Then he brushes my lower hind legs with whip, telling me to walk on, and lets the lead spindle out from his fingers as I establish my circle. I pay attention only to his commands, the clean air, and the feeling under my feet as my boots - my hooves - move through the arena dust, kicking a little of it up for the joy of it. He commands me to trot and I move out smoothly into the gait I perform so well. My knees high my body bent into the curve of the circle I make as I increase my pace. The perfect one-two one- two one-two rhythm sounding in the clop of my hooves and the beat of my heart. 

We work like this a while in the late sun, Master turning me, changing pace, guiding me into a canter for a few minutes until there is a pleasant ache in my limbs. Nowhere near exhaustion, but the endorphin washed weariness of a well used body. He slows me and I circle him at a walk to cool my feverish happy heart. He reins me in and again feels me all over, making note of tender places and if any sweaty bit of flesh has been rubbed by my tack. He loosens the buckle under my chin without fully removing my bridle and leads me to a shade tree where there is a bucket of not-too-cold water for me to sip from and a towel for him to rub over me, wiping dust and sweat away. He stands there with me while I drink, quietly stroking. 

"Good girl, " He says softly while those hands ease along my neck. "I'm so proud of you. Everything about you. The way you move, the way you look. Your spirit as much as your obedient heart. What I'm going to do - to have done - to you now I think is what's best. I want you to have good experiences and go forward every day without fear. But if its too much, if you are frightened or hurt or this isn't what you want girl, I absolutely order you to let me know."

He was using that fake stern voice. The one I'd learned a long time ago wasn't the tone I had to obey, but the one he had when he was trying to be my rock and not completely certain he was standing on the right ground to do so. It didn't matter..., if he was with me, if his hands held me, I could be sturdy enough for two no matter where his decisions led us. I have four legs and he is only human, after all.

Generally I am a quiet beast. I live as the lone pony in our stable and have little reason to neigh to an empty barn... but I nickered for my Master, and bumped his shoulder with my nose. I wanted to reassure him and let him know all my faith was with him. I'm sure he understood for he nodded. 

"Alright girl. We are going to try this mating thing again - no huge crowds this evening, no one you don't know. Sir James will put it on video for the voyeur vultures inside. Hell it may be fun to have a copy for ourselves one day. I'll be there and I've discussed with James a different stud, the black stallion across from you in the stable. He seems pretty calm for a stud and I don't think will hurt you like Flames. Also we'll do this in a stall where you have better light and footing and no bad associations " 

Master straightened up and we went back towards the stables, his arm draped over my withers, walking close to me. At the door Sir greeted us and offered his hands to me, palm up. I lowered my head and let him stroke my face. If nothing else I had learned that my master wasn't the only man who cared about my well being, and I could appreciate the little bit of familiarity Master allowed his friend. Sir stroked my muzzle and patted my neck under my mane while complimenting Master on how well I seem to have come together. Master allowed his friend to hold my lead a moment while he put wraps on each of my legs.

For the next step in readying me Master took back my reins and coaxed me to lean against him and be still. Sir James put his hands on me again, gentle and soothing as he stroked my sides and briefly my belly. I tried to watch him from the corner of my eye but Master began to stroke my face with his fingers and making soft soothing sounds. Sirs hands were pleasant and I stood steady as they went lower on my body, stroking my backside now.

"Some days its tempting to put on hoof boots and do these things yourself isn't it?" Sir said to my Master with a warm laugh in his voice. I shivered a bit as his hand went underneath me and his fingertips touched soft places between my thighs.

Master just nodded at his friend and continued to pet my face and neck. Sir was still being gentle with my tender flesh but his first two fingertips had begun to brush my opening, coaxing my body to accept them inside. My lower belly felt tight and fluttery and I stamped one hoof to show I felt...odd. This was entry into my body but there was no pain as there had been this morning. It was becoming pleasant as the warm fluttery feeling in my belly grew and both men continued to touch me gently, Sir with his free hand running over my ribs and thighs and Master touching my face and neck. 

I noticed I had moved my body unconsciously, parting my legs a little to stand with better balance and my center of gravity forward, using my Masters shoulder to lean into. Sir patted me and made an approving sound as he allowed his fingers to sink deeper into the warmth of my body where he worked them against the inner walls, stroking me from within that soft space. My breathing quickened and he placed his palm on my belly, steadying me against his own hip and pushing to go deeper, so now I felt the two fingers inside me and the palm of his hand curled under the rest of my heated body. 

I was feeling strange. My inner legs were damp with the moisture the movement of Sirs hands had been spreading. I even pushed my hips back against his touch - and at that point he withdrew. 

"Ready?" I wasn't sure if He were speaking me to or Sir but Sir James returned my lead and slipped into the barn ahead of us. A minute later he called out for Master to bring me in. 

I stepped carefully on the concrete, not wishing to slip, and let my eyes adjust to the light. Master let me have a loose rein so I could follow at my own pace down the aisle. Nervousness grew under my skin despite Him and despite myself. I felt the other ponies I passed eyes and felt judged and embarrassed. Most if not all of them went through the morning with dignity, why hadn't I? What made me special? I picked up my pace so that I walked touching Master for the last few paces to my stall and the one across from me. I turned my head left and could see the big pony with a stallions headstall and curb chain on in the control of Sir. He was no where near as aggressive or lunging as Flames had been but there was eagerness in his posture and in the fine sheen of his flesh. Anticipation in his breathing. He may not brutalize me but he was certainly willing to take me. 

Master rolled the stall door open and pulled me a few paces to the side. He then took my reins tight under my chin and put pressure on them, ordering me to step back. My head against his chest I drew on the strength he offered and obeyed, thought only a step and he had to speak again, ordering me back one step at a time with his voice and his firm hand. 

The Master or Sir one had made this a bit easier on me than the strange evil little three sided stall I had been bound in. This evening there were three straw bales placed in the shavings, one on its side about knee height -exactly so a human could brace her knee if needed and not be impaled on the sharp ends of the straw. In front of that one were two other stacked bales that would be a little under the height of my chest. It would be a great way to brace my body, not nearly as stressful. Master led me there, standing on the other side of the bales and guiding me until my human body had one knee up, one leg steady on the ground, and my arms could reach across the tops of the stacked bales and anchor myself. I reached out my head to my Master, rubbing my face on his chest. My bare flesh shivered as I heard hoof falls behind me. 

Sebastian did not come straight for my quarters however. Sir led him to my head and then loosed the lead. I trembled as the stallion extended his muzzle, I had no desire to be bitten again. Masters hands held my head however and I would not leave his touch to shy from this other creature. I was not hurt though, not bitten. The big stallion gently tasted my check with a brush of his muzzle. His lips fumbled pleasantly over my neck and withers under my mane. His breath was hot but steady. He was all steady... that centered calm I had drawn upon before he offered me freely. I eased out breath I hadn't remembered holding and when his teeth did graze my shoulder I squeaked but did not lash out. I let him explore my flesh with little tastes down my side and allowed him to rub his forehead against my hindquarters. I heard him breathe in deeply and sigh as though my scent give him the same pleasure I took from my masters hands. I felt the buckles on his wrist cuffs rub over my ribcage as he put hands on either side of me and his teeth nip, but gently, at my back as he slid his big body over mine.

His flesh was fever hot and I could feel and hear how his breathing increased. Master loosed my lead a little, giving my head room to move if I wished, but kept a hand on my neck, stroking me with warm fingers while my mate stroked my body with the entire length of his. I shifted, bracing my feet to make us both steady while Sebastian mounted me.

I was tender but there was no pain as he brought himself against my soft places and into position against my sex. He did break one rule but we all chose to ignore the slip as he whispered "good girl" so softly into my ear while he pushed with his thighs and his cock sunk home. I bucked slightly, unable to hold completely still or even wanting to. Trying to be as accepting as Belle had been of her own mating. There's too much fire in me to just stand and too much fullness inside me to resist over much either. I pulled my body tight around Sebastian and he buried his face in the long hair of my mane with a moan, before answering my motion with a thrust, carrying himself that little bit deeper towards my womb, before easing almost out of me. His next thrusts were slow, gentle almost, letting my excited honey coat him and ease the way into my body, but the muscles I felt against my back were tense with the effort of restraining himself. I leaned forward to the bale and met my masters eye as I tried to invite the stallion to unleash himself. Parting my legs fractionally more, and stretching my body out to offer the most natural angle for the penetration I could. Going by the feel and pressure of him within me as his thrusts increased and his body rocked into mine.

I ached but in the best of ways. The mate these men had chosen to breed me to fulfilled a need I hadn't remembered having as a mare, and there was no fear in me anymore. There was a feeling I was chasing but in a good way. A pleasure just behind a veil I was sure would be pulled down soon. My stallion-mate made a guttural sound as he took me, his covering body now driving into parts of me below my belly I was certain where meant only for breeding and foaling. He neighed loudly and held me tighter to him while I felt how close he was to completion.

There was a primitive sort of urgency in the way he rode me now, deep but rapid. My buttocks shook as his thrusts slammed my body. His breathing a rough rasp right behind my ear. The metal buckle and ring on his wrist was warm from our bodies heat and seemed like hot silk on my skin as he shifted his hands, one arm below my breasts helping me hold us steady, the other tracing across my belly and between my legs, causing me to squeal in a painful sort of elation as his large fingers searched and found that sweet little pearl of nerves and flesh in the cleft of my legs. He stroked her in the same rhythm he used to stroke me, faster when he moved fast, languid in the moments when he wanted to cause me to hold my breath. Deep inside the well of my body I felt his spasms and the pulses that were the repeated release of his seed before the sounds of his pleasure left his throat and he buried his face against me.

He drove into my depths a few more times before holding himself there, locked tight and flexing his still hard length, his fingertips working me rapidly. My own breath started to match the panting of his and I began to loose focus even on my Masters loving touch. I nearly fell as the electric pulses of orgasm rocked me but I found all three men more than willing to catch parts of my body and keep me from being hurt as I bucked and screamed and twisted against Sebastian. Orgasming for more than a minute until he finally let me have peace and withdrew both drenched fingers and softening cock from me. The warm soft satisfied chuckle I heard being me was much too human for a pony, but I wasn't one to complain as I sank onto the straw bale and focus on remembering how to breathe. 

********************************************

Master and Sir both felt my best interest wasn't to spend another whole night as a pony alone, nor to pull our cart home after dark. We would return for it on the weekend and tonight Master would take me home to sleep in the safety of my own bed. Part of me still wanted the safety of my stall but I was willing to admit there would be other days, other weekends. and always other adventures. 

Sir James drove us home himself. Master in the front seat conversing with him, I in the back on a towel as I hadn't exactly been cleaned up yet since a brief nuzzled goodbye with my stallion. I half expected Master to take me right into the house but instead our friend dropped us off downfield at our stable doors. 

I breathed in the good musty smells of home. Straw and saddle soap and the fabreeze we sprayed on my blue wool blanket each time we hung it over my stalls door. I smelled the moist earth where the garden hose leaked a little bit and the grass outside the door slowly decaying in piles as master had mowed the paddock Friday night after work but not run back over it with the lawn sweeper attachment. I sighed with peace when Master snapped the cross ties and began to strip off my gear. 

First he unbuckled both my wrist cuffs. Mine ran the length of my forearm with several d-rings he could use to clip my arms together before or behind me. Usually behind if I were harnessed or during a grooming. His warm rough hands rubbed my arms to wake my skin up and make me feel my blood flowing. My leather corset next - it had been loosely laced today, not pulled tight like Master usually did in the mornings. and so my skin was a little chafed. A tight corset is better than one loose enough to not give proper support, but in the scheme of things I wasn't complaining. Next he finger combed my hair, letting it flow loose and curtain around my shoulders. I always let it grow long and at this point it was nearly to my hips with let down fully. I would put it back in a scrunchie later. 




Pony Named Pleasure



Master paused for a moment to seemingly just admire me and we leaned against each other, offering as much of my own strength to him as I took. He kissed me under the jaw, and again on the side of my neck were we had placed his brand on my skin. I was bare now but for my tail belt, which his fingers were unbuckling without needing to look down, and my boots and bridle. I knew I had been wearing panties at some point... I had no idea where they were now. Did I have them on when I woke this morning or were they taken off in the breeding shed? Hmm...

The boots were always last. He would take my bridle and unbuckle it, hang it on its peg to be soaped and lotioned and put away properly later. I then stand, and he kneels to unlace my knee high boots. My feet, my bits of wearable art. When I stand in these high platform boots I have to use every bit of my legs strength and my body's grace to walk, to step high. Hell - just to stand on your own in boots shaped like high heels but without an actual heel to support you is a win. They are designed to give a humans foot the appearance of the hoof and fetlock of a true equine. This means I carry all of my weight forward on the bottem of my foot while my heel is inches higher, supported by the steel spine of the boot, They were custom made to fit my feet and we stuff new sheep's wool into the toes of them every weekend that I play. It both pads the toes and absorbs the blood if you have blister that breaks. Thank the gods for sheep.

Both boots unlaced, Master reaches for me, I think to help me step out of the embrace of the leather footwear but instead I find myself scooped up in his arms and lifted in that "across the threshold" way. Of course I laugh and ask what he's doing. He replies seriously he's going to carry me into the house and I respond that if we leave my boots in the middle of the barn I will leave him and walk to town to find a lawyer instead of into the house. John sighs and asks why he can't ever be romantic. When I reply that carrying my boots for me would be SUPER romantic he sighs, kisses my nose, and sets me down. He also says that if I track barn mud on the carpet I'm going to get spanked instead of a bath. 

I wrinkle my nose, grin, and before I start to limp/jog up the dirt path to our home, I ask if he thinks of that as a threat or a promise. 

I didn't hear his answer, he had bent to gather my boots and I was already yards away.