The One Pound Ponygirl Read online

  Circling the post in the barn with her body beautifully presented and her knees lifting high in the graceful, sensual display of her obedience to the commands and whip of her Master, Gabrielle shivered as her nipples stiffened and her sex grew moist to the thrillingly erotic knowledge that she was no longer merely playing the part, but had actually become a true and permanent pony-girl. For, even though she still found it hard to believe that any man would go to such lengths to possess a woman as ordinary and unremarkable as she had always considered herself to be, there was no denying the flattering truth that Matthew had wanted her so much that he had been prepared to risk everything to have her for himself, regardless of the dangers or even of her own preferences in the matter.

  Whether she wished it or not, he had made her his and as her belly churned with fierce heat, Gabrielle knew that she was his. For good or ill, she had accepted her fate and as she welcomed the delicious pleasure that her willing surrender sent rippling through her body and mind, she fervently hoped and believed that the incredible sexual rewards her obedience and submission would bring her, would compensate for the discomfort, humiliation and strict discipline that she would have to endure.

  In the days that followed, neither she nor her Master referred to the brief argument and her training continued exactly as if nothing had happened, her skills improving rapidly under the twin stimuli of his whip and her own determined efforts to prove to him that she was capable of reaching the standards he set.

  Obviously pleased by her willingness and hard work, he kept his promise and rewarded her efforts with frequent stimulation of her breasts and belly and as Gabrielle became conditioned to associate unquestioning obedience with the devastating arousal his touch brought her, she thought less and less often of her former life and simply accepted her new role.

  When the weather finally improved enough to dry out the paddock, her training was moved outdoors for the first time. To begin with, Gabrielle found the change not to her liking, for although the fresh air was invigorating and the warm sunshine a welcome improvement, she could not help but be intensely conscious of her naked breasts and belly and buttocks. Inside the house and barn she had grown used to being displayed in her harness, but to be outside where strangers might see her, was deeply unsettling and affected her concentration.

  For a short while, her Master made allowances for her concerns, assuring her that the paddock was totally private and that she need not worry about being seen, but despite his assertions and encouragement, Gabrielle’s performance remained well below his required standard. After several circuits of the paddock with no improvement, he ordered her to halt, then walked over to her and delivered an ultimatum.

  Holding her anxious eyes with a hard, flat stare, he told her that although he understood her fears and knew how difficult it was for her to keep her mind on her work, she was a pony-girl under training and no matter what distractions might be going on around her, or how nervous or worried she might be about being seen by other people, such things were not her concern. As her Master, he and he alone would decide whether to put her on public display and when and if he did, she would be given no choice in the matter. All she needed to worry about was satisfying him and at the moment, she was failing and his patience was wearing dangerously thin. So she had best start paying attention, or it was going to be a very long and painful day for her.

  The warning was unmistakable and as Gabrielle understood that it was her last and that if she ignored its clear message, he would not hesitate to use the long coach-whip in his right hand, he turned and walked away and picked up the lunge-rein attached to her bit.

  “Walk on,” he called and at the same time, sent the whip hissing through the air to land with a sharp “crack” on the smooth curve of her naked flank. Considerably harder than the usual flicks she was accustomed to receiving, the lash burned a line of cruel heat into her flesh and as she winced and lifted her knees high in the smooth, even paces of the walk, the painful smarting told her more clearly than any words, that her Master was not going to be content with anything less than her perfect and unhesitating obedience.

  “Into the trot…now,” the command was accompanied by a second, equally hard lash and as scorching heat blazed across her thigh, Gabrielle gasped in anguish and doubled her speed. Her legs pumping, breasts bouncing and the hobble-chain between her knees jingling as she was forced to comply.

  Just as in the barn, she trotted in a wide circle with her Master at its centre…but not so wide that she was ever out of range of his whip…and as she was instantly punished for every tiny error or hesitation she made, the absolute necessity for her to devote her entire attention and effort to maintaining the perfectly smooth and even gait he demanded, drove out all her fears and anxieties about whether she was being watched by strangers. If she was, there was nothing she could do about it and in any case, her Master’s displeasure was a far more immediate and painful threat.

  Focused solely on her own performance, she trotted around and around the paddock in the graceful, high-stepping rhythm she had been trained to achieve and as her Master lowered his whip and nodded in satisfaction, Gabrielle found that she was really beginning to enjoy herself.

  The warm sun on her body, the delicate scent of trees and wild flowers in her nostrils, the rustle of grass under her feet, all combined with the familiar and comforting tightness of her harness and corset to give her a sense of well-being and security that was delightfully relaxing. She was a pony-girl being trained by her Master and all she had to do was obey. No decisions to make, no choices to consider, no bills to pay or deadlines to meet, no more pretending that she was something she was not in order to gain advantage or promotion ahead of her rivals at the Bank. And best of all, no need any longer to hide her deepest physical needs and desires.

  Delicious warmth percolated through her belly in anticipation of the moment when she would be rewarded for her efforts and as she visualized the instant and uncontrollable passion that his touch would send raging through her body, Gabrielle shivered in fierce need. Knowing that her desires enslaved her even more effectively than the straps and chains of her Master’s bondage and that when he chose to take her, she would surrender and serve him deeply and fully. Her submission to his thrilling dominance and power over her, is that of a true and willing pony-slave.

  During her second week of captivity and training, the lunge-rein she was accustomed to was replaced by a pair of normal reins clipped to the rings of her bit and instead of circling around her Master, Gabrielle was required to walk and trot ahead of him, her speed and direction indicated by the pressure of the reins at her mouth. It was a strange sensation, for with her head and neck immobilized by her posture collar, she could only look directly ahead and was unable to see him or anticipate his wishes, her instructions coming only in the form of the uncomfortable dragging of her bit across her tongue and at the corners of her soft lips.

  As she soon discovered, the tugging of the reins was not only uncomfortable, but quite irresistible, for if she was slow to understand or act on their commands, a sharp tug by her Master was enough to turn discomfort to a painful sawing of the bit at her lips and tongue, compelling her obedience. With, as ever, the ultimate sanction of his whip if she was foolish enough to persist.

  To Gabrielle, the worst part of her new training sessions was her Master’s silence, for after the first, when he accompanied the reins’ instructions with verbal confirmation, he didn’t speak to her and made her turn left and right and vary her speed with separate and thankfully, simple variations of pressure and angle. She found it highly embarrassing, for instead of even the doubtful courtesy of a one-way conversation, she was forced to respond just as a real pony would, her actions directed by the bit and reins she wore and the whip she could not evade. Just like a real pony, she had no choice but to learn to interpret the silent signals and act on them, whether she liked it or not. It was not particularly difficult because her Master’s signals were quite clear, but his
refusal to talk to her intensified her feelings of helplessness as she understood that he was quite deliberately teaching her to obey as any mute, harnessed farm animal or domestic pet would. With the added incentive of a reward after each session as her offered breasts and sex were caressed and stimulated until her belly swirled with deliciously erotic heat that only a full climax could assuage.

  Gabrielle was perfectly aware that her Master was conditioning her to accept his authority and that each time she submitted to his will, it reinforced his determination. But knowing it and combating it were two very different things, for as his power over her increased, her ability and desire to resist grew weaker as she became accustomed to the undeniable pleasures her situation forced upon her.

  Harnessed by day and chained in her stable by night, she had no choice and as her Master aroused her, took her and sent her hurtling into the explosive orgasms of a genuine pony-slave, the last remnants of Gabrielle’s defiance were consumed in the raging fires of her passion and she screamed an ecstatic welcome to the fate she could no longer escape – even if she wanted to.

  Chapter Nine

  Gabrielle stared at the black leather open-face hood with its tall plume of purple ostrich feathers and her eyes shone with delight as she visualized herself wearing the lovely and clearly expensive present that her Master had provided for her. It was exactly like the ones that she had seen adorning horses on the final evening of the International Horse Show when all the riders decorated their animals for the closing ceremony and she had always thought how beautiful and proud the horses looked with plumes nodding at every step. Now, she was to display the same adornment as a pony-girl and she made herself control the immediate arousal that warmed her belly and stand perfectly still as her Master fitted the soft hood over her head and tightened the laces.

  She hadn’t noticed the attached blinkers that restricted her view until then, but harnessed and leashed as she already was, there was nothing she could do about them and consoled herself with thoughts of how good she would look with the purple feathers adding another foot or more to her height.

  Her Master reached into the box again and lifted out a second present and as Gabrielle saw that he held a long, silky mane of purple-dyed hair, she snorted through her bit in astonished amusement at the thought that he’d actually bought her a tail. Once she noticed that the tail was attached to a fairly small, lozenge-shaped rubber plug…and realized just how the tail was going to be fitted…

  Backing away until the leash to her collar drew taut, she stared pleadingly at his smiling face, already knowing that her gag-distorted protests would be ignored and that she was going to have to accept the humiliating addition to her pony-girl costume whether she liked it or not.

  As he calmly instructed her to bend over and spread her legs, she trembled to a scorching burst of heat that raced through her belly as he applied a thin film of lubricant to the plug and pressed its rounded tip against the puckered ring of her anal passage. The automatic tightening of her muscles resisted its entry for several seconds, but as her Master chuckled and told her that if she relaxed it would make the insertion a lot less uncomfortable; Gabrielle forced herself to overcome her natural instincts and submit to his will.

  Taking his time, her Master slowly pushed the plug into her body, allowing her time to get used to the unfamiliar sensations as her anal ring stretched to accommodate the thickest part of the device and then contracted around the narrower neck to form a tight seal and hold the rubber plug firmly inside her.

  To Gabrielle’s immense relief, it was nothing like as uncomfortable as she had feared; creating a feeling of fullness in her lower belly that was actually quite pleasurable and even mildly arousing. Although nowhere near as arousing as her knowledge that she now had a tail projecting from between her buttocks and couldn’t eject it without her hands. Which were, as usual, immovably strapped behind her back and useless to her.

  With the leash untied, her Master slapped the reins lightly across her shoulder-blades in the signal for her to walk and as she automatically slipped into the high-stepping gait of a pony-girl and he guided her out to the paddock, the plumes on her hood nodded, her silky tail swished back and forth against her thighs and the plug in her bottom shifted at every step.

  At first, Gabrielle found the sensation deeply embarrassing, but as her body adapted to the presence of the rubber lozenge and she became accustomed to its movements inside her, she was able to relax and began to enjoy the low-level arousal it created. A level that increased markedly when she responded to the reins’ instruction to trot and the plug jiggled faster and more erratically at the higher pace.

  When, after several minutes of trotting, her Master brought her to a halt, then calmly informed her that she was now fit enough to handle cantering, she gazed at him anxiously, immediately realizing the effect the plug would have when she had to run. As ever, she had no way to object or argue and when he added that he was quite sure she could cope and reattached the lunge-rein to her bit, she knew that she would have to obey.

  “Walk on,” he ordered, then, “trot now.” A minute later, “Canter, pony-girl” and as he flicked the whip across her buttocks, Gabrielle surged forward, her hobble-chain jingling and legs pumping.

  It wasn’t a flat-out run, but it was considerably faster than the trot and as the plug made its presence felt by sliding back and forth in her bottom in time with the rapid swaying of her hips, her eyes opened wide in dismay and she stumbled, losing the smooth, even pace required of her.

  “Steady, pony-girl,” he called sharply, “concentrate. And keep those knees up.” The order accompanied by a stinging lash that brought a shrill squeal from her bit-gagged lips as a red stripe bloomed across her right buttock.

  Gabrielle wanted to protest, to tell him that cantering was too hard and that she couldn’t possibly do what he wanted with the plug causing merciless havoc in her belly. Of course, she couldn’t and as the whip hissed out again, then again, and again, she was forced to abandon her objections and devote her every thought and effort to perfecting her performance and avoiding having yet more burning stripes added to the web of scarlet lines that criss-crossed her flexing bottom.

  Humiliated, aroused and just a little bit frightened by how ruthlessly and easily she had been made to submit to his will yet again, Gabrielle slowed to a halt and stood still, her breasts heaving and legs quivering from her exertions as her Master walked up to her, took off the lunge-rein and casually knotted her reins to the top rail of the fence that surrounded the paddock.

  “Well done, Gabrielle.” He smiled warmly. “That was really good and you look terrific with your pony-plumes and tail. I could see that was difficult, but knew you wouldn’t let me down. A little reward and a rest, I think, before we start the next stage of your training.”

  His hands fondled her reddened buttocks, then moved lower, past her tail to the moist lips of her sex and as his touch instantly ignited a blaze of heat in her belly, she gasped and pressed backwards against his hand, her hips undulating in shamelessly erotic invitation. He chuckled softly, enjoying her obvious need and let his fingers explore the slick velvet of her belly until she quivered and whimpered in almost unbearable pleasure and frustration. Then he took his fingers away and said, “Not yet, pony-girl. You still have work to do. Wait here and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Gabrielle gave a low moan and tried to turn towards him, her eyes filled with helpless longing, but as the reins snapped taut and she heard him walk away in the direction of the barn, her belly kicked strongly as she was forced to accept that she wasn’t going to be allowed to climax until he decided she had earned it.

  As it dawned on her that she was alone in the paddock, fully harnessed, tethered, gagged and virtually naked, Gabrielle stared anxiously around at the encircling woods, intensely aware of how helpless and vulnerable she was if anyone should happen to stumble across her in her Master’s absence. Realistically, she knew that was highly unlikely…after all, she
hadn’t seen a soul other than him in weeks…but that didn’t mean it was impossible.

  After several seemingly-endless minutes, her nerve cracked and she jerked her head against the reins in an effort to free herself. All that achieved was to tighten the knot, making escape even more impossible and bringing a groan from her as she realized that she had only made the situation worse, because her Master could hardly fail to see that she had tried to escape and might punish her for it. She should have trusted him to ensure that no harm came to her and waited patiently for his return, but she had panicked. It was a reason, but not an excuse and as Gabrielle understood that she had failed him and thought of his disappointment as he saw the evidence of her lack of trust, she groaned and felt her face redden in shame. But what was done, was done and although she was annoyed with herself for being so weak and foolish, it was not too late to make amends.

  If he punished her…well, perhaps she deserved it…but when it was over, she would show him just how good a pony-girl she could be.

  Just for a moment, Gabrielle frowned, wondering why she was so concerned about pleasing and impressing Matthew when he was the one who had tricked her into becoming a pony-girl and taken away her freedom? Then, surprising even herself with her own calmness, she shrugged and decided not to waste time and energy on pointless speculation that no longer mattered. Whatever the rights and wrongs of her situation, she was a pony-girl and he was her Master. He wasn’t going to let her go and if truth be told, she didn’t actually want him to. Not any more.