Ponygirls, a Dog, and a Couple of Cute Fillies

by Bingo
- do not use without the author's permission.


Chapter 7


Del was about worn out. Tomorrow was Friday and everything had to be spic and span because the place would be overrun with owners. Friday, Saturday, things started to return to normal on Sunday afternoon.

Star and Penny had been cleaned top to bottom; he wouldn't repaint them until Monday. He kicked off the high table, landed on his feet, to check to see if they were dry yet.

His boots scratched on the wet cement floor and the sound echoed in the washhouse. He was usually alone in the washhouse on Thursday afternoons; the other hands weren't quite so fastidious with their charges. Penny and Star hung from a reinforced crosstie. Their toes just touched the ground, their ankles in iron stretcher bars, wrists in leather cuffs and chains.

He felt the base of Penny's back, between her butt cheeks and crotch, then he felt Star, including her hair. Penny was dry. He went to the sink by the window and picked up Penny's tail. He hadn't washed their tails since he wanted to braid them dry.

Benjamin had been taking Misty on drives the past few days so Del wasn't expecting to see them out the window but there they were doing circles. She was still beautiful but he was beginning to find her boring. She always looked the same.

He spit on Penny's tail plug, parted her cheeks and pressed the plug in place. Her ass had firmed from all the exercise. He checked the temporary brand; it was healing nicely.

He knelt and braided her tail. He could barely keep his eyes open. He finished Penny's tail and backed away. She smelled so good and her skin — he rose to his feet, patted her ass cheek and walked to the door. Both of them looked good. He gave them a salute, watched their eyes. He'd tie ribbons on their bridles tomorrow. They were a fine looking pair. Paints but their pride showed.

He enjoyed the feel of the sun on his back and shoulders. A cup of coffee, kick his feet up for a few minutes. He heard the crunch of tires behind him and stopped. The Colonel's zip buggy pulled up alongside. "Sir," he said.

"Just the man I wanted to see." The Colonel's hand rested on the top of the steering wheel, fingers relaxed.

Del watched the big gold and diamond ring spin on the Colonel's finger with the help of a thumb.

"I'm having a few friends over this evening. A nice night for a cookout. I want you to bring Star, Penny and one of the other girls up."

Del nodded, "Anyone in particular, sir?"

The Colonel waved at Carl, turned back to him. "Entirely up to you. We'll be done about ten. Be there at seven. Hitch one up to a buggy. These are potential investors." The Colonel winked.

"Yes, sir."

The Colonel drove off in a rush to upset some other poor fool's well-laid plans. Del checked his watch. Three-thirty. He went to the bunkhouse and waited while Cookie packed him a box meal, a thermos and slices of apple and carrot, all in a basket just like an owner.

He dropped the basket off at the washhouse, stuck a baby carrot up Star's twat since he was pissed, and left them. He needed to call Marge and tell her he'd be by shortly to pick up a few things.

When he got back to the washhouse he felt a little better. He'd seen Sam and Randi would be ready at six harnessed and ready to go.

He released Penny first. Her ankles so she could stand, then her wrists. He removed her tail and carried it over to the sink and laid it next to Star's. Penny's eyes never left him as he moved about in the washhouse. He'd hood her back at the stall.

He removed Star's bridle and bit, carried them to the sink and came back with a dry rag. He tied it around her eyes, left and came back with the lead. He folded it up several times, held one end and swung.

Star jerked forward, off her toes then back.

He hit her slowly, hard blows. The carrot popped out, rolled on the floor. Penny knelt and watched him, her lips partly open around the bit.

He carried the lead, coiled, and laid it by the sink. He removed the stretcher bar from Star's ankles and carried it to lean against the wall. He released Star's wrists and forced her to the floor on her back. He dropped his jeans and knelt between her legs. He leaned forward and entered her as he pulled her blindfold from her head. He watched her eyes as he fucked her.

She grinned at him as he used her, twitched her pelvis from side to side.

Del held her jaw and said to her as he finished, "Spot's a better fuck."

She bucked under him; he squeezed her jaw, shook it and released her. He rose to his knees, drew up his jeans and stood.

Her stare could burn a hole in him if he let it. He went to Penny. "Up," he said.

He left her and went to the sink where he leaned, looking out the window. He had to get all of his soldiers in line before marching.

He went to Star and helped her stand, checked her new brand. It was more blurred than Penny's which was okay. He'd wanted to hurt Star, enjoyed hurting her. She moved stiffly under his fingers, still angry at him.

He dumped the lead, bridle, tails, everything in Star's hands and handed Penny the basket. He led them to the stable, the ranch hand and his motley crew. He made them kneel on the blanket, hooded Penny and cuffed Star. He gave one of Star's nipples a playful tweak, wrote on the blackboard where she could see it, "Star fucks worse than Spot. Needs practice."

If they weren't such pains in the asses he'd tell them they were good girls. Star would let it go to her head. Penny would blush, then give that smile of hers.

Rush. Rush. Rush. He reminded Sam he could use either or both of them and thanked Sam profusely for loaning him Randi.

He sat in his Dodge and wished he'd had coffee earlier. Nap, coffee, a four-week vacation like in Europe. He wanted to go to some place different, maybe a monastery or something. He sometimes felt that if he saw another cunt he'd bust a gasket.

On the drive home he tried to organize a schedule for tomorrow but couldn't. He had a long night ahead of him. He'd have to clean them up afterwards before anyone slept. All three of them. Bodies, tails, equipment. Everything.

He relaxed his grip on the steering wheel, took a deep breath and grinned. He'd get a six pack on the way back. The Colonel would absolutely flip if he found out; no alcohol (for everyone else) on the ranch was the primary rule.

Marge had his stuff ready, he gave her a hug and a kiss and promised he'd be home tomorrow night. Then off in a rush. He didn't dare check his watch.

He parked the Dodge by the stable, left his stuff inside and went to get his charges. Penny and Star didn't look like they'd been bored.

"Stand," he said. He uncuffed Star and put the cuffs in his pocket. He removed Penny's hood, tossed it onto the shelf. Penny still wore her bridle, he put Star's on. She didn't look quite so mad at him as before. He popped their tails in, grabbed a second set of cuffs and handed Penny the crop. She held it with both hands in front of her belly. He gave Star the basket, remembered the apples and carrots in it, and kicked himself. Couldn't be helped. He attached the leads to their bridles and led them out of the stall.

He thought for a second before shutting the stall door. He had everything, he shut the door and led them out of the stable to the wagon shed.

Randi was waiting, serenely beautiful, harnessed to a buggy and ready to go. "Bless Sam," Del said. He tied the leads to the rear rail, set the basket in a seat, took the crop from Penny and tried to decide how angry he still was. Not that angry.

He sat in the driver's seat and snapped the reins. Randi turned a graceful curve, pulled him around the yard to the path up the hill. He checked his watch, six thirty.

He made Randi stop and watered everyone who needed to go. Just his two. He felt bad while he waited for them, not feeding them earlier. Star and Penny came back onto the gravel path, looked pretty good for a rush job. He'd wished he'd gotten new shoes for them. Hadn't even been thinking of it.

He snapped the reins. Randi easily pulled him up the hill, past the house, past Spot's merry barking, into the woods.

"Whoa," he said. He turned to Penny and Star. "There are apples and carrots in the basket for later. I meant to give them to you earlier. I'm sorry." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Randi turn her head then face forward.

Under the trees it was darker. There was still an hour or more of sunlight but here it seemed later. Fine by him. He was looking forward to a nap.

He got out of the buggy, set the basket on the bench close to the path and said, "All right, Randi. Why don't you turn her around." He took the handcuffs out of his pocket, waited until the girls were even with him and said, "Whoa."

He walked to Penny. "Hooves in front." He cuffed her. Star was ready when he turned from Penny. He cuffed Star, looked her in the eye and smiled at her. She stared at him for a minute and looked away.

He got in the buggy, snapped the reins and relaxed as Randi pulled him back toward the Colonel's. Before he forgot, he tossed a key to the handcuffs onto the seat by the crop.

In front of the Colonel's he stopped Randi, had her approach the house slowly, then stop at the door. He wasn't sure those inside had seen him. He could have circled the house a few times, whooping and hollering, but figured the reason the Colonel asked him was because he wouldn't do something like that.

The door opened and the Colonel and his party left the house, the Colonel talked intently with a short older woman, both a few steps behind Sharon. Sharon wore a black dress that looked like it had been dripped on her. Maybe her nipples held it up.

Del counted. The Colonel, Sharon, two couples. He wondered what the Colonel had in mind. He hoped he hadn't overdone it with the handcuffs.

Sharon reached him first. "We meet again."

It had been what? A week. He hadn't expected her to remember him.

"Del," the Colonel said. "Let me introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Waverly and Mr. and Mrs. Bronts."

Del left the buggy, walked around it and shook hands. Mrs. Waverly's eyes were feverishly intent; she kept looking past him at his charges, then Randi on the other side of him. Mr. Bronts had a peculiar smile.

"Del is our most experienced ranch hand. We'd be lost without him." The Colonel saw the crop and grinned as he picked it from the seat.

Del stepped aside to let Mrs. Waverly chat with the girls.

The Colonel swung the crop and his party stopped talking and looked at him. He handed the crop to Mr. Waverly, "Why don't you do that one there?" pointing to Penny. "As I was saying, we'd be lost without Del. He personally oversees every one of our charges, makes sure they receive exactly the right training they need. Like this magnificent creature." The Colonel turned and grinned at them. "Did you ever hear the one about the whore and three nuns?"

There was a whoosh sound, the sound of a crop hitting skin and a cut-off squeal from Penny.

"Oh, I say. Well done, Franklin." The Colonel glanced at him. "Thank you, Del. At ten."

"Yes, sir."

Everyone was crowding around Penny as Mr. Waverly showered blows on her. Del took a last look and turned away, going toward Spot's doghouse. Spot watched him approach wagging her rear.

He unclipped the chain from her collar. He took the leash out of his pocket and clipped it on. She followed him giving soft yips as he walked toward the woods.

"Del," the Colonel shouted.

He turned.

"Thank you for remembering Spot's walk." The Colonel waved and bent to say something to Mrs. Waverly who was examining Randi.

Del gave a wave, led Spot to the path and into the woods. He sat on the bench by the basket; Spot knelt at his feet and whimpered.

He scratched her head, gave a tug on her nose ring and shook his head. Now he really felt bad about not feeding them earlier. He opened the picnic basket and took out the thermos and the box meal. He poured a cup of coffee, said to Spot, "Hot. Hot. Not for dogs." Spot looked up at him.

He shook his head. "Maybe later."

Spot settled at his feet and nibbled on the bits of the sandwich he threw to her. At least she didn't go crazy around people food like some dogs.

He finished his meal, still feeling bad about his charges. He hated it when he wasn't paying attention like that. He liked to believe he was on top of things, that all of his intricate plans were clicking along like clockwork. At moments like this he saw what he was doing was all a shoddy pile of crap. He was just bumbling along, barely making it. An incompetent fuck up. And the Colonel's bullshit to those investors or whoever they were. About how Del this and Del that. The Colonel could barely stand his guts. He'd made that plain enough.

A place of his own. He thought for a second, decided why not, took one of the slices of apple. No more bullshit. He was good at what he did. Maybe tomorrow night he and Marge could go over their accounts, see how much they had. He wouldn't just up and walk away. He'd stay until Penny and Star were done, that long at least.

The bugs sounded nice. He wished he dared a campfire. He checked his watch, tilted it toward light. Only a couple of hours. He hoped he got them back in one piece.

He shut his eyes. The bugs sounded nice. Spot's breathing at his feet sounded nice. If he trusted himself he'd try napping on the bench. But he didn't trust himself.

He poured a cup of coffee and bent, unclipping the leash with one hand. He stood, said, "Let's go for a walk," and crossed the path to the woods on the other side. He went along the edge of the cleared area, liking the way the coffee smelled. Spot rubbed against his leg almost like a cat.

When his coffee was done he turned back to the bench, crossing the path and walking in the cleared area on the bench side. He could hardly see where he was going. He should have brought a flashlight.

He should have done a lot of things.

He sat on the bench, patted the plank seat beside him. "Up, girl." Spot squatted next to him. He slipped two fingers in her cunt, just left them there.

He wished Spot could talk. He'd love to find out who'd trained her. He sometimes wondered what Spot was thinking. She wasn't stupid or crazy. You could see more than a glimmer of intelligence there, not buried deep. You could see more intelligence than in most people.

Spot held his wrist with her paws and moved slowly up and down on his fingers.

"Spot likes that, does she?"

Spot gave a bark, wiggled her rear as she raised and lowered herself.

"Let me have my hand back."

Spot released him, raised herself off his fingers.

He unfastened his jeans, kicked off his boots and pushed his jeans off his legs. Spot moved so she straddled him.

"Cunt," he said.

She lowered herself onto his cock, rocked her ass to fuck him. She used her paws to pull his shirt snaps open, pressed her breasts and stomach against his.

He shut his eyes, relaxing into the sensation. Spot was a much better fuck than Star. When he came he stilled her, held her close to him. She nuzzled his ear, gave it lick, licked his jaw.

Shit, he thought. I forgot my shaving things. Then he remembered Marge putting them in his bag.

Spot stopped when she felt him tense. She laid her cheek against his and rocked her ass slowly.

After who knows who long he decided he'd better check his watch. He held it up to the light, behind Spot's back as she fucked him, her eyes closed. After ten.

"We'd better go back."

She shook her head, thrust hard on him and squeezed his cock with her cunt.

Okay, they wouldn't go just yet. He tried to feel every inch of her. Couldn't understand why the hands weren't in line to be next. Couldn't understand why his suggestion that the stable have a dog got so many blank stares. Sometimes he felt like he was from a different planet.

She growled as she thrust her body into his. She nipped at his neck.

He bent and bit the base of her neck, hard. She leaned back, his teeth still in her, arching her neck up for him, all of it, her chin straight up in the air.

He raked her back with his nails and came hard in her, grunting. Afterwards her back was wet and he couldn't tell if it was sweat or blood. He let go of her neck, dropped his hands to the bench and fell back.

He didn't know how long they were like that, she on top of him, slowly licking his chest, he out of it. Maybe he slept. He made her get off; he fastened his shirt and pulled on his jeans. He stood in his boots, found the leash and clipped it to her collar. He patted her head. "Good girl," he said and they set off back to the Colonel's.

When they were out of the woods, in the open, he could see better with the star and moonlight and the light from the Colonel's house.

Del checked his watch, almost eleven, but it didn't sound like the Colonel and his party were done yet. He could hear shouts, maybe that was Mrs. Waverly shouting. He didn't hear the girls but they all had bits and bridles on.

He walked Spot back to her doghouse, unclipped the leash and fastened the chain to her collar. He rolled the leash up, put it in his pocket and set the basket by the doghouse.

He sat on the ground by the doghouse. Spot settled across him, her paws in his lap. He expected to see them racing by any minute. The Colonel standing on a buggy seat, Franklin next to him waving the crop. Poor Randi pulling hard with double weight. The others and the girls were somewhere, in one of the Colonel's special rooms upstairs, the pool, down in the stable. Somewhere.

He didn't have any strength left. He laid his hand on Spot's head and scratched with his forefinger. He couldn't see claw marks on her back though with the tattoos and the bad light that didn't mean anything.

There was a knock on the doghouse behind them, then steps.

"I thought I might find you here," Sharon said. She stood above him; the dress still looking like it might fall off any moment. She held a glass in her hand, pointed to him with it. "I need you to help me with something." She stepped back.

He looked at Spot, put his hand on Spot's back, and looked up at her.

"If it's him you're worried about, he's with," she paused, "Dogmeat. Is that right? The blonde." She smiled at him. "It won't take long."

To be continued...