A Pony Tale

‘OK, take off your clothes’ the man said calmly as he shut the door behind her. Although Lucinda had often been naked with him before, it had invariably been in bed together in a darkened room at night not broad daylight in the living room like this.

‘This is silly’ she thought. Considering what was in store for her through the weekend she was behaving like a virgin bride on her first night. However, as she caught sight of the vast array of harnesses and equipment carefully aligned on the coffee table like the instruments of some bizarre veterinary surgeon she suddenly felt very much a virgin at this new game.

Peter had suggested that they visit the Club on a number of occasions over the three months since they became lovers. During this period he had become her mentor in the ‘scene’. She had come to realise she had always been drawn to the more extreme, some would even say perverted, aspects of sex and sexuality but had not found a path that she felt comfortable to explore. He had become her guide. Carefully teasing and tantalising but never pushing her too far beyond the safety of the edge she subconsciously hung onto.

She maintained that a worthy and satisfying relationship was more about a meeting of minds, not some mindless ‘fucking’ like animals in rut. In fact, she found the idea of a one-night-stand totally abhorrent. For her sex was one of the many ways she could share her mind and thoughts with her lover and had little to do with a competition to get prime DNA squirted onto her ova.

When she discovered that the actual act of coupling was just a tiny part of a much bigger picture that could involve the mind even to the exclusion of that final purpose, it awakened a hunger in her that needed to discover more. At times, she sensed that the intensity of her interest even alarmed her new mentor.

Just over a fortnight ago she accepted his invitation to visit the club. The Pony Club. Even its name was intriguing and thrilling. Innocent on the surface but potentially veiling so many darker layers below. ‘Real ponies?’ she thought, shuddering at what they might do. Her knowledge of equine male anatomy was limited to what she had seen on farms. She felt it would stretch a lot more than one’s imagination to appreciate what was possible.

What she saw there, however, had profoundly disturbed both her sleep and her waking hours with a confusing mixture of doubt and compelling curiosity.

For the first time since she had discovered the concept of sexual power play, or BDSM, she felt she really had some inkling of the appeal it held for its devoted disciples.

She half smiled at her lover.

‘I’m sorry but I’m still a little unsure’ she said nervously.

‘It’ll be fine darling’ he said as he moved to her and hugged her tightly. ‘We’ll take it one step at a time and you know we can stop at any point you want?’

She slipped her arms around his huge waist and snuggled up close. Although she was tall and long limbed, he still towered over her. His size and strength reassured her greatly, she eagerly wanted to please him in every way.

‘I know, I know, I’m sorry, I really am being silly’

‘No you’re not, you are being you and I wouldn’t have you any other way’ He murmured as he stroked her hair over and over again, soothing her like a timid pet.

She rubbed her cheek against his chest and cast her mind back to the similar displays of love and devotion she had seen at the Club.

They had arrived there at around 10pm on the Friday night after a simple but delicious meal at her favourite Italian restaurant. After a fresh pasta and ruccola salad with parmigiano washed down with a basic, but good, red wine her hormones had started to create havoc with her decorum.

A litre of the wine between them ensured that her decorum was well on its way back home for cocoa and early bed as she, in turn, was feeling the night had only just begun.

The combination of the alcohol and her normal reaction to things that made her nervous resulted in a giggling fit in the taxi as it pulled into a sleazy half lit street behind one of the larger main-line stations.

The driver must have known where they were going and she caught an exchange of glances in the mirror between him and her lover who calmly slipped his hand between her thighs and gripped all of the flesh around her sex in his huge hand.

‘Behave!’ he commanded.

She was so surprised at the directness of the act and his public display of control that she just sat bolt upright with her mouth open like some paralysed goldfish.

‘That’s better’ he smiled. He eased his grip and, as he removed his hand, he pressed the crotch of her panties and tights into her vulva with his fingertips before drawing them up to caress the sensitive bump at the top.

She gulped and nodded. He smiled as he withdrew his hand to leave the hem of her skirt lying across the tops of her thighs.

He stared at the sight of her exposed legs in black Lycra tights, kissed her cheek, then took her hand and helped her out.

As the driver sorted out the change he winked at him and said

‘You’ve got a lovely one there Guv, I’m sure she’ll do you proud.’

She frowned indignantly, hitched her bag over her shoulder and smoothed down her skirt. Although she tried to look aloof she found it difficult with the flesh of her pummelled pussy still tingling and a cotton gusset stuffed up her.

Her lover smiled and, looking her over, nodded,

‘She already does that but, I have no doubts that she will continue to do so in the future, thank you’

The driver waved goodbye to them with a raised finger and grinned at her,

‘Have fun then, love’

She gave her sweet and cheesy thank-you-but-you-have-a-snowball’s-chance-in-Hell smile. The two men just grinned.

She ignored them both. She noticed that the architecture of the building was Victorian Gothic as she wandered indifferently away. Sadly, the impressiveness of the overblown Imperial dignity of the old station was slightly ruined by the fact that she stood on a used condom. It was one of those garish purpley pink types but she couldn’t really tell under sodium lights. The first thought she had on noticing the horrid thing was that it was probably blackcurrant flavoured too. She wasn’t prepared to find out.

‘Oh yuck!’ She cried lifting her foot only to find the obscene thing tenaciously hung to the sole like a gutted fish before it dived back to the pavement.

The cabbie laughed and drove off.

Now it was her lover’s turn to have a giggling fit, she turned and flexed her fingers at his groin intent upon inflicting a similar treatment to that she had received.

He backed away laughing,

‘OK, Touché. Besides.. ‘ he said puffing his chest up, ‘..you need strength for that!’ He playfully grabbed her wrists and forced her arms high up behind her back as he pulled her roughly to him and kissed her hard.

She melted. From the feeling of his tongue deep in her mouth, through the pressure on her small but highly sensitive breasts via the tingly bits inside until she positively dripped from below.

It was delicious.

‘Mmmm’ she purred and added with a grin ‘Lead on O Masterful one’

He laughed and, as he put his arm around her shoulders, she slipped her arms around his waist.

He guided her down a short cobbled street towards a small door set in a larger door made of blue planks. This shut off the front of one of the old railway arches. Light shone from under the door and cast dancing shadows of moving legs and feet on the shiny curved stones of the street.

‘They hold a Fetish Flea Market here on alternate Sundays. That’s how I discovered the Pony Club’, he said, proudly showing off his knowledge.

‘They must be very skilled to make rubber and leather outfits that small’ she teased.

He rolled his eyes to the sky.

Her other defence against nerves was making terrible jokes. Judging by the butterflies in her stomach and his reaction she felt he would end up with a detailed appreciation of the ceiling inside.

She suppressed a giggle and looked up seriously..

‘Sorry’

‘No you’re not’ he grinned and hugged her to him, ‘you’re a tease and the loveliest one I know’

She felt a warm glow inside and kissed his cheek as he reached to open the door.

The place was huge and surprisingly warm. The heat came from gas fires like those in her old school gym. They hung on thick, black steel pipes from the curved brickwork above and, dangling from each side, had chains with rings in the end to control them.

‘How fitting’ she thought ‘Even the heaters are subs!’

She was very nervous now they were inside with other people.

A pretty waitress in a short flouncy skirt greeted them and took their coats before leading them to a table. Peter ordered two cappuccinos and the waitress curtsied and wiggled off.

Lucinda was fascinated. Although the room was fairly empty, people bustled about giving it an air of excitement. She looked around.

The ‘bar’ was a cluster of four round, white plastic tables and a few matching uncomfortable chairs. They were the type that are so slippery you end up hanging by your kidneys if you try to lean back. She perched on the edge.

There was a crude coat rail between the tables and the large door but she noticed that two of the women in the party just arriving kept on the long cloaks they wore as they and their partners hurried through a curtained door set into the wall on the left side of the arch.

‘Most Owners will have brought their Ponies here earlier to let them settle down’ her lover whispered to me. ‘The less experienced ones can get very jumpy at an event’

‘An event?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’ He continued, ‘Tonight is one of the main Shows. The best Ponies win trophies and rosettes. They are highly prized.’

‘Just like a real horsey event?’

‘Absolutely. The members take this very seriously. To have a winning Pony is a great honour for an Owner and an enormous accolade for the Trainer. The prize-winning Trainers are sought after by Owners and Ponies alike. The top Trainers only devote the time and care to the few Ponies they feel have winning potential.’

It made her slightly uncomfortable.

‘You mean the Owners don’t train the Ponies?’

‘Oh sure, most do, but they can only go so far. Besides, a Trainer is much more objective, he or she can exert a discipline many Owners find hard to give.’

He looked at her and said carefully as he cupped her hands on the table.

‘I would only use a top Trainer for a future Pony of mine.’

She stared back and felt the flush warm her cheeks.

‘You’d not mind that another had use of me.. er the Pony I mean?’

He smiled and squeezed her hands.

‘I’d only want the best for the one I love’.

She swallowed hard.

‘I wouldn’t want to disappoint you’ she said quietly, realising that she had not only accepted his invitation to become his Pony but also that he said he loved her.

He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed her fingertips softly.

‘You would never do that’ he smiled.

‘This BDSM stuff still worries me though’ she added, ‘I still remember how it upset me that first time and I embarrassed both of us.’

He nodded and leant over to kiss her lips.

‘I will never go too fast for you again my darling, that also taught me to be more careful.’

He went on,

‘I’m worried now as well. Do you mean you don’t like the games we play?’

‘Oh no! I mean yes, I love them’ she grinned and rubbed her foot on his calf under the table, ‘Quite the contrary. You have shown me pleasures I didn’t know existed and I will be eternally grateful for that.’

The waitress returned with their coffee and Peter paid her.

Lucinda continued,

‘It’s just that old niggle I had..’

‘You mean the How-can-he-want-to-do-that-to-me? niggle?’ he asked.

She nodded and bit her lip, feeling silly.

He grinned and stroked her cheek.

‘My darling. I love you very much. You are the most precious thing in my life and I constantly ask myself ‘Why me?’. Please understand that I would never, ever do anything to hurt or scare you that you didn’t agree to.’

‘I know. I know. But.. Oh! Damn, I don’t know how to put this’ she took a breath. ‘It’s just that I’ve always been taught to respect my body and look after it, sometimes I think that this is wishing damage upon it and I can’t bear to think that you’d want to do that.’

She felt terrible but had said it. She tried to hold back her tears.

He was obviously very concerned and looked at her without saying anything for what seemed like ages.

‘Oh God! That’s torn it’ she thought, ‘My big mouth and stupid ideas destroy yet another relationship’

He touched a tear as it welled up in the corner of her eye, licked his finger and smiled.

‘Please believe me when I say that I would never do or think of harming your lovely body in any way. Let me explain..’

‘Our bodies are the physical extensions of our minds, we use them to communicate with each other in all the obvious ways. Many people even screw that up!

He chuckled and went on..

‘When you let me do those things to your body you are indirectly sharing with me a part of your mind that few people appreciate can be shared. Part of the ‘inner’ you if you like. The bit one retreats to when things get tough out there. I find that one of the most intimate and sexiest things imaginable. The sight of you as you drift off and luxuriate in that space is incredibly erotic and the trust it implies is probably the greatest gift one can give. Does that make sense?’

She felt a huge wave of understanding and relief wash over her. He had managed to express what she felt this was all about and dispel the worries she had that it was selfish to ‘retreat’ as he put it. She kissed his fingers and tasted the salt of her tears.

‘Oh my love, I do want to share that, you know how bad I am at saying those things. If I can give you that with my body then it makes me very happy. Probably the happiest I’ve ever been’

She smiled and cocked her head to one side, he beamed.

‘Hello again’ a tall, distinguished looking man said as he held out his hand to Peter .

Lucinda broke her reverie.

The man was tall and obviously very fit, he seemed to be in his mid-forties and had neatly groomed ginger brown hair that looked almost orange. A blonder moustache made him look a bit like a World War II flying ace.

He was wearing a tweed suit complete with a mustard yellow waistcoat and Hunter chain. Lucinda imagined him more at home in a Barbour on a farm overseeing the season’s labours than in a cellar below St. Pancras Station. He turned to her and almost clicked his heels as he gave a slight bow.

‘..and a special welcome to you my dear, Charles Hamilton-Pearce. I’m the Club President. It’s always gratifying to see a new face here, especially one so pretty’.

Lucinda shook his hand and used her ‘sweet’ smile again. She was certainly not his ‘dear’ and he increased her annoyance as she felt him appraise her from head to foot. She restrained her grin for fear that he might decide to check her teeth and fetlocks.

‘Hello, and thank you for letting me visit’ she said as she idly wondered whether there was any entrance fee to pay or if it was one of those ‘guys pay chicks free’ clubs like the crummier discos. The arrangements for the evening had just gelled alarmingly well considering she had only decided to visit on the Wednesday.

‘It is quite.. er.. unusual’ she added, looking around.

He beamed, still holding her hand tightly.

‘Yes my dear. Unique we think. Certainly in Britain anyway. We are a very select group and take a great deal of pride in the quality of our events. Tonight we hold the Berkshire Trials, an especially important event in the calendar. I don’t think you will be disappointed’

She extracted her hand.

‘From what I’ve heard so far I suspect it will be fascinating.’

He nodded,

‘I understand this is your first introduction to Ponies?’

‘Yes, indeed’ she replied.

He turned and waved at a group of tables at the far end of the room.

‘We have a small display area at the back which may help you understand a little more about what goes on. Sadly lack of space here means our vendors can only display a small part of their stock, but you can always order anything as most items are.. er.. bespoke. I suggest you go and have look at some of the wares.’

‘Yes, we’d like that, wouldn’t we.. dear’ she glanced at Peter who frowned slightly then nodded.

Charles smiled at them both,

‘You may even be tempted to buy something to try yourselves?’

Lucinda reddened a little and, noticing her lover grinning from ear to ear, banged her ankle as she attempted to kick him under the table.

‘Well, we’ll see’ she grimaced.

‘Excellent!’ their host leaned over and said conspiratorially,

‘I’ve reserved two seats in the Owners’ enclosure for you’

Lucinda looked at Peter quizzically, this was again too convenient, he shrugged.

‘..right beside me, so I can help answer any questions you have’

‘Lovely.’ She smiled, ‘That’s very generous of you’

‘Not at all my dear’, she was certain he even stressed the ‘dear’ that time, ‘I’m sure the Ponies will perform even better in front of such a charming guest’

She felt nauseous and moved to stand before she deposited the pasta of earlier into the empty coffee cup.

‘I think we should do the shops love?’ she said and shook Charles’s hand again. ‘Nice to meet you, we’ll see you later’

Peter also took his hand and, as she picked up her bag and started to walk off, she sensed a level of understanding between them that she was not privy to.

‘Pah! Boys together’ she thought. It reminded her of the Point To Point events she had been dragged along to in her youth where the ‘gals’ were expected to look pretty and hold polite discourse as the men got pissed in the beer tent and blew all their money. She vowed to wind her lover up about this later and grinned, she might even buy him a ghastly yellow waistcoat to go with his jeans.

The ‘shops’ turned out to be three long trestle tables, separated by a small gap and arranged along the end wall.

Despite the size, the way the comprehensive array of products made by the stall holders was arranged in the tables and hung from the wall made it look like a cross between a village craft fair and the back pages of the Sunday tabloids.

‘Ye Olde Sexxe Shoppe’ Lucinda thought as she approached, half expecting to meet some genial local trader who also ran the village grocery. ‘Maybe that’s where they got the name Mr. Whippy’ she giggled to herself

She regained her composure.

‘I get the impression you didn’t like Charlie boy?’ asked Peter as he caught up with her.

‘Euchh! He’s so slimy’ she said, ‘Like having warm syrup poured down my back’

‘Oh. Maybe that’s just the way he comes over at first meeting, but he’s considered to be the top Trainer and also owns many Ponies.’

‘Owns?’ she asked.

Peter nodded.

‘Yes, sort of. He has a large farm in Sussex, rich too I think, he’s Baron..ette something of somewhere or other, is that a little royal?.’

Lucinda laughed at her American companion.

‘Baronets are hardly ‘royal’, all you needed to do was slaughter a few of Queen Victoria’s pre-colonial natives and capture their country then you were rewarded with a Baronetcy! Their heirs inherit the title’

Peter looked glum, she kissed him.

‘I’d much rather wrap my legs around an ex-colonial to get my rewards’ she grinned.

He laughed.

‘I know.. then capture their hearts instead’

‘Aw’ she said as she hugged him tight.

‘Anyway. I gather he has lots of Ponies, both boy and girl Ponies who actually live in stables at the farm. They are made to do work like real animals, pulling carts etcetera.’

Lucinda felt a little thrill go through her at the thought of an entire community acting out this fantasy then shuddered at the thought of Slimy Charlie getting his hands on her.

‘I still don’t fancy him’ she said moving to the first table.

A range of harnesses, bits, blinkers and other leather paraphernalia was neatly displayed on a green baize cloth. At the end, just before some vicious looking canes and crops, were a set of long tails with lumpy flared handles. She picked one up and flicked the, real she noticed, horsehair at Peter.

‘Hmmm, that wouldn’t hurt much’

He laughed.

‘They’re butt plugs! You silly thing’

Lucinda dropped it onto the table with a crash.

‘Ugh! I hope they don’t offer a try before you buy policy’ she said as she rubbed the palms of her hands on Peter ’s chest.

‘Oh, thanks very much’ he said, ‘I don’t think so, somehow’

Lucinda inspected them further. They were between four and seven inches long and tended to flare out to about a quarter of that in diameter before tapering back to a slender cylinder which formed the shaft of a T-shaped bar. It was now clear how they worked and she felt her sphincter involuntarily tighten as she inspected the larger sizes.

‘They look very painful’ she commented.

‘Not if you take it slowly and use lots of lube’ he said gazing at her in a strange way.

‘What?’ she asked looking up, ‘Oh.. Oh! No, no way!’

Peter took her wrists and held her, he continued to stare in that strange, almost feral yet loving way.

‘My darling, you don’t know how much pleasure it would give me to see you wear one. It’s something I’ve dreamed of since the day I first saw you.’

She looked startled.

‘Really? Hmmm, it’s not the first thing I’d have hoped you’d have thought about me.. Cor, she’s lovely, I wonder what she’d look like with a lump of plastic up her ass?’

Peter sighed and then smiled as she wiggled her rear at him.

‘You silly love’ he laughed, ‘No, you know I didn’t think that. It’s just that it’s one of my most intense fantasies to take you from the rear with a butt plug in you’

She’d not made love with him behind her and she felt herself thrill at the thought of it. Her breasts gave her the longest and sexiest climax when caressed, occasionally without even needing to stimulate her below. She felt her nipples harden at the thought how much attention they could get from his powerful hands in that position. She was not too sure about the tail however.

She gazed into his eyes, filled with love and lust, and, after a moment’s consideration said,

‘All right lover boy, you shall get your wish’

His draw dropped open.

‘What?’ he beamed, ‘Seriously?’

She giggled it was obvious it would make his week,

‘Yes. Of course. I’d like to try it. Honestly’

She giggled and bent forwards over the table teasing him.

'Do we have time?' she asked in a husky voice.

His eyes positively twinkled, sadly their repartie was interrupted by Charles Hamilton-Pearce marching up and putting a proprietorial hand on their shoulders.

‘My dears, the Event is about to start, you need to be seated’

Peter frowned.

‘Damn, just as we decide to er.. buy something’ he winked at Lucinda.

Charles looked at him and said.

‘Excellent. That’s no trouble. I’ll escort your lovely partner to her seat if I may while you complete your dealings here, you already know the basics. You can join us when you are done here’

He added, smiling at Lucinda,

‘Besides, it will give me a chance to get to know your lovely companion better, won't it my dear?'.

Peter nodded and beckoned over the stall holder who had remained discreetly at a distance.

Charles crooked his arm for Lucinda who glanced at Peter before slipping her arm through.

‘Don’t be long, love.. please’ she implored as she was led to the curtained door in the side wall.



A Pony Tale - Chapter 2 - On with the show

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