The One Pound Ponygirl Page 6

  “Up,” he ordered casually and when she rose to her feet, he unlocked the chain to her collar and replaced it with a leather leash, using it to lead her from her stable, through the tack room and into the main lounge.

  Her nostrils twitched to the delicious scent of cooking and she suddenly realized how hungry she was.

  She hadn’t eaten for almost twenty-four hours and when he led her over to the table and told her to kneel beside his chair, she obeyed at once and arched her spine to display her body as he flipped up a floor tile and knotted her leash to the ring beneath it.

  “Much better, pony-girl,” he said approvingly. Gabrielle flushed with embarrassed pleasure as his eyes drank in her posed nudity. “I’ll fetch breakfast and then we’ll start your training.”

  Her pleasure was short-lived, for when he returned, his meal was on a normal plate, while hers was in the steel dog bowl.

  Her mouth opened to protest, but as he murmured, “If you’re not hungry, I can always take it away, pony-girl,” she bit back her objections and made herself accept the humiliation, bending low to nuzzle at the food.

  Thankfully, he ate his breakfast in silence, not adding to her frustration and shame as she chased her food around the bowl until her lips could fasten on the eggs and bacon and sausage and when she had finished, he simply used his napkin to clean the food smears off her chin and cheeks without comment.

  “OK,” he said calmly, “time to get you harnessed,” and untying her leash from the ring, he let her rise and took her to the tack room.

  A delicious warmth rippled through her belly as he began to fit her with her pony-girl uniform and as the basque tightened to compress her already-slim waist and the spike-heeled boots added inches to her height, she watched herself in the full-length mirror, secretly delighted and only a little embarrassed by the way her body was enhanced and displayed by the revealing costume.

  She hesitated when he picked up the posture-collar, remembering how restrictive and controlling it was, but as he paused and asked, “Problem, pony-girl?” she reminded herself that she was only playing a game with him and would have to be freed to return to work after the weekend.

  “No, Master,” she replied humbly and arched her neck to allow him to buckle the heavy leather around her throat after removing her padlock-collar and leash.

  “Good,” he chuckled, “only your single-glove, hobble and bridle to fit, then you’ll be all set, won’t you?”

  With the handcuffs removed from her wrists, she winced and complained as the leather clamped her arms behind her back, “Oof, that’s awfully tight, Matth…Master. Couldn’t you loosen it just a bit? Please. You know I can’t get free even if I wanted to.”

  He smiled at her, “True,” he agreed, “but do you want to free yourself?”

  Gabrielle felt her face flush, “Well…No…Not really…” she admitted shyly. “I…like being tied up and…and at your mercy, Master. Knowing that you can do whatever you want to me and I can’t st-stop you.”

  Matthew nodded, “Me too.” He grinned. “So, as we both like you the way you are, there’s no need to loosen anything, is there? In fact, I think a little extra security wouldn’t hurt,” and before she could react, he grabbed the discarded leather leash, snapped it into the ring on the front of her posture-collar and quickly knotted it to a convenient ringbolt, tethering her with only a few inches of slack.

  Fastened in place and unable to turn her head because of the posture-collar, Gabrielle could only tug vainly at the leather and protest as she felt three broad straps tighten around her wrists, forearms and biceps, welding her arms immovably and removing any hope of escape and as hobbles were buckled above her knees and connected with nine inches of thick chain, she shivered at the knowledge of her total helplessness.

  “Open your mouth, pony-girl,” Matthew ordered firmly. As his crop flicked across her naked buttocks, she gasped in alarm and her belly flared with instant heat at the unmistakable message.

  She was a harnessed pony-girl and if she resisted or disobeyed, a punishment would inevitably follow.

  There was no choice and Gabrielle knew it.

  The cranked steel bar slipped into her open mouth and as straps tightened around and over her head, she whimpered in anguish and was forced to bite down on the rubber-covered bit.

  Incapable of speech, she squealed and writhed as his hands snaked around her body to capture her breasts. His thumbs and fingers rolled and squeezed her delicate nipples to throbbing rigidity as he exerted his complete Mastery over her and forced her to respond.

  Fierce arousal raced through her belly as he ignored her futile efforts to evade his touch and when he eventually took his hands away and chuckled, “That’s enough for now, pony-girl. You’ve got work to do,” she whimpered in need and loss, wanting more.

  She didn’t get it, for her needs and wants were no longer the deciding factors of what she got and as Matthew untied her leash and gave a firm pull, she had to follow where he chose to lead her, the chain linking her hobbles clinking musically as she stumbled forward on her towering high-heels.

  She hadn’t realized that it had rained hard overnight and when Matthew opened the door and she saw the sodden grass of the meadow, her spirits soared to her assumption that it meant her training would have to be postponed and that she would have the chance to use her feminine wiles to persuade him to spend the day in much more enjoyable activities.

  Even fully harnessed and bitted as she was, she was still confident that she could seduce him and once she was in his bed, it would be up to her to convince him that a willing and enthusiastic lover would give him a lot more fun and pleasure than trying to train a reluctant pony-girl.

  Her reasoning was sound and her conclusions perfectly valid, but unfortunately; Gabrielle never got the opportunity to put her plan into operation.

  Without stopping, Matthew towed her out of the house and across the wet grass towards the much larger building she had noticed the night before, then pushed open the door and pulled her inside.

  Disappointed by the failure of her idea, she took two steps and stopped dead, her eyes widening as she saw the thick layer of peat that covered almost the entire floor area and the well-worn track that formed a huge circle around a tall wooden post in the centre.

  With her love of horses, she recognized instantly what she was looking at and even before Matthew confirmed it, she knew that the building was an indoor riding arena.

  Except there were no horses…only her…and as Matthew added cheerfully, “It’s a pity about the rain, pony-girl, but not to worry. We’ll just begin your training in here and move it outside when the paddock dries out,” she realized that not even bad weather was going to be able to help her.

  Resigning herself to the fact that she was going to have to put up with being trained as a pony-girl whether she liked it or not, Gabrielle made no resistance as he led her to the central post, then lifted a long coil of braided leather rope from a hook and snapped the clip at its end into the ring of her posture-collar before removing her leash.

  “OK, pony-girl,” he said casually, dropping the rest of the rope to the floor. “Let’s get on with it. Go out as far as the track and when the lunge-rein is taut, start walking anti-clockwise, making sure to keep your head up, your back straight and your knees lifting as high as the hobbles allow. Off you go.”

  Gabrielle tried glaring at him, but he seemed impervious to the angry glitter in her eyes and when she saw his fingers begin to toy with the handle of the crop at his belt, she decided not to push him too far.

  He had already proved that he was quite prepared to enforce his orders by whipping her if he decided it was necessary and having felt the fiery bite of the crop, she had no desire to feel it again even though it had given her an incredibly intense orgasm.

  Turning her back to him was a weak, even pathetically futile gesture, but it was the only way she could express her annoyance at him and although she was well aware that it wouldn’t make any di
fference, it made her feel a little better as she trudged reluctantly out to the track.

  The lunge-rein uncoiled smoothly behind her until, as she reached the peat circle, it lifted from the ground and she turned to her left as she felt its slight weight drag at her posture-collar. It wasn’t enough to affect her breathing or balance, the pull was nevertheless highly effective and insistent, its presence a constant, nagging reminder that she was controlled and no longer free to wander wherever she pleased.

  It was an extraordinary feeling and Gabrielle was still trying to decide whether she rather liked being restricted or hated it for limiting her freedom to a circle bounded by its length. She heard Matthew call, “Walk on, pony-girl,” and felt a sharp, stinging pain at her left thigh.

  She yelped in surprise, twisting her torso to stare at him and as she saw a long, thin coach-whip in his hand, her eyes widened in alarm.

  “Walk on,” he repeated firmly, flicking his wrist to send the whip’s thong across her left buttock. Gabrielle squealed in anguish and stumbled forward, her bottom and thigh both smarting from the skillfully-delivered lashes. Only to receive several more as he ordered, “Head up, pony-girl. Keep your back straight. And get those knees lifting. Higher. Higher, I said.”

  Tethered by the lunge-rein, Gabrielle was unable to evade the whip by retreating and foolishly attempted to outrun it, her booted feet thudding on the peat and her hobble-chain clinking and rattling as she tried to escape its cruel torment.

  “Whoa, pony-girl. Stop, dammit,” Matthew yelled, but panic had Gabrielle in its grip and she raced on, unheeding. Until her hobble-chain tripped her and she crashed to the floor, knocking the breath from her lungs.

  Dazed and winded, she lay in the dirt gasping for air as Matthew hurried over and knelt by her side, his eyes worried as he checked to ensure that she was uninjured.

  Then he shook his head angrily, “You crazy idiot. What did you think you were doing? You could have been really hurt. Don’t ever try that again, you scared me half to death.”

  His concern was obviously genuine and as the labored heaving of her breasts eased, Gabrielle flushed in shame and remorse, knowing that she had allowed her fears to get the better of her and that she should have trusted him not to really hurt her.

  Nodding her head, crinkling her eyes and mumbling around her bit-gag, she tried to tell him that she was all right and as he frowned and asked, “You’re trying to tell me that you’re OK, are you?”

  She nodded repeatedly until he accepted her assurances.

  “Right then,” he told her firmly. “You’ve learned your lesson, so let’s get you back on your feet and we’ll try that again.”

  Her eyes widened in dismay as she realized that he was going to continue her training and he saw her reaction and gave a deep chuckle, “What’s the matter, pony-girl? Surely you didn’t think a little tumble like that would get you out of training, did you? I’m not that soft, or that easy to persuade. It was all your own fault anyway, so come on, get on your feet and hurry up about it.”

  With her arms useless to her and her knees hobbled, it was hard for Gabrielle to obey. The task was certainly not made any easier when his crop cracked across her bottom and as she squealed to the fierce heat, he grinned and told her that he was getting impatient.

  Somehow, she managed it, but not before he had administered two more strokes to her buttocks, turning them a bright shade of red.

  Whimpering in pained despair at her undeserved punishment, she hollowed her spine, thrust her breasts forward and spread her thighs as much as she could, hoping her arched body would save her from any more cropping.

  It worked, but not quite as she had intended, because he simply smiled and said, “Excellent, pony-girl. I see you’ve remembered how to display properly,” then reached out and captured her nipples, rolling the tender buds between his thumbs and fingers.

  She couldn’t hold back a low moan as arousal shot through her breasts and as she fought not to move he nodded in satisfaction. “You see, pony-girl,” he told her, continuing to fondle her. “Training isn’t all about crops and punishment, you know. An obedient, well-disciplined little pony can earn herself nice rewards like this. It all depends on how smart she is and how quickly she realizes that it’s in her best interests to try hard to be pleasing. I wonder how smart you are?”

  Gabrielle stared pleadingly at his smiling face, her nipples stiff and throbbing with delicious need as he took his fingers away and said, “That’s enough for now, pony-girl. If you want more, then you know what you have to do, don’t you?”

  She wanted to scream and fight and stamp her feet in frustration, but understood that if she gave in to the temptation, it would only give him a reason to discipline her again and make her wait even longer for more of his touch.

  Despite knowing full well that he was using her sexual excitement and need as a training-tool…she did want more…

  Feeling her cheeks flush, she gave a shame-faced nod of agreement.

  “Good,” he said briefly and walked back to the post in the centre. He picked up the coach-whip and ordered, “Continue, pony-girl.”

  The whip cracked warningly behind her and Gabrielle resumed her long walk to nowhere, concentrating her whole attention on keeping her head up, spine straight and knees lifting high as her trainer and Master required.

  Chapter Seven

  Gabrielle had no idea how long she had been walking, or how many times she had completed a circuit of the peat track that unrolled endlessly beneath her spike-heeled boots. She only knew that her feet and legs ached relentlessly, competing with her pinioned arms and the bit-gag wedged between her jaws to give her the greatest discomfort and misery. The only bright spot in her situation was that her performance had improved markedly which reduced the number of times the coach-whip had snaked out to crack across her buttocks and thighs to enforce her Master’s instructions. Reduced, but not eliminated completely, as the mesh of pink and red stripes adorning her pale skin confirmed. On their own, none had been unbearably painful, but added together they smarted and burned at a level that could not be ignored or disregarded, but only accepted and endured along with her other tribulations. Worse than any of these, though, was her embarrassment and humiliation at finding that she was unable to suppress distinct and persistent feelings of unmistakable pleasure at the way she was being controlled and made to obey by Matthew.

  His total domination and determination to impose his will upon her, sent waves of thrilling and shamefully submissive excitement rippling through her belly and as his whip disciplined her and forced her to display her body exactly as he commanded, she was intensely aware that her breasts and nipples remained taut and rigidly erect also that between her thighs, a slow trickle of her juices oozed from her sex.

  Focused on her performance, the command, “Halt,” caught her by surprise and she stumbled on for two paces before stopping.

  “Pay attention, pony-girl,” her Master snapped. “When you’re told to halt, you do it immediately, not two paces later. And you go straight into the display position to await instructions the moment you stop. Got it?”

  Gabrielle shivered at his harsh tone and jerked her shoulders back, simultaneously spreading her legs as far as she could, her eyes wide with fright in anticipation of a punishment. It didn’t come and she sighed in relief as he laid down the coach-whip and walked towards her. Until she remembered that her breasts and sex were completely exposed and he couldn’t fail to see the betraying evidence of her shameful arousal.

  She blushed furiously, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her, but dared not close her legs and as he reached her and his eyes went immediately to the wet, glistening stains on her thighs and belly, she groaned in anguish.

  “Be quiet, pony-girl,” he ordered. “You are to remain silent while you are harnessed or in display position. And you keep still, no matter what is done to you.”

  He didn’t say that she would be punished if she broke the new rules, but he
didn’t need to and Gabrielle understood the unspoken threat perfectly. Her freedom had already been taken from her and now, his rules were to remove her only means of communication or protest.

  Like a real pony, she was to become a dumb animal, trained to respond obediently to her Master’s commands and his whip. As her belly kicked violently to a vivid mental image of herself trotting around the grassy paddock, fully harnessed and powerless to resist, her sex pulsed to release a fresh trickle of her juices.

  “My, my, Gabrielle,” he smiled coldly, “you are a hot little filly, aren’t you? It seems you rather like being trained and disciplined. And the stricter the better, it appears. That’s very good. Very good indeed. In fact, pony-girl, you’ve earned a small reward.”

  Her eyes almost bulged from their sockets and her lips drew back from the bit-gag in a silent scream of shocked disbelief as the fingers of his left hand caressed the swollen, wet, exquisitely sensitive folds of her labia and his thumb circled and pressed gently on the engorged nubbin of her prominent clitoris.

  For endless seconds, she shuddered wildly, her breasts jiggling as every touch sent jolts of devastating arousal storming through her body until, almost at the climax that boiled and churned in her belly, she screamed and bent forward, her thighs coming together in an effort to trap his fingers and draw them deeper into her quivering sex.

  Her Master had anticipated her response and was quicker, instantly stepping back and removing his left hand while his right, gripping the crop, swung backhand and then forehand to burn two lines of searing heat into her flanks.

  Gabrielle wailed in pain and dreadful loss as she was ruthlessly punished and deprived of the sexual release she had so nearly achieved, but as she jerked her head up to gaze imploringly at her Master, begging him to have pity on her and let her come, he repeated flatly, “You are to remain silent while harnessed or in display position and you keep still, no matter what is done to you.”

  An icy chill of apprehension cooled the fire of her arousal when she heard his uncompromising words and as he slowly raised the crop, she fought down her growing horror and forced her body back into the display position, trembling in fear of the consequences of her disobedience.