Ponygirls Of Palemoore Manor

by Ironhawk aka Balance
- do not use without the author's permission.



Bryony glanced at her phone. 6:58! Eeek!

"Stay!" she commanded urgently, shouting above the torrents of rain and jabbing her finger towards the ponygirl. "Stay!"

Blue-maned Beach Bunny shuffled miserably and shivered, but remained where she was as Bryony let go of her, taking her place at the end of the line beside tall, elegant Catwalk. Only one left! She could do it! Bryony dashed back into the stable. Being one of Lady Palemoore's stable lasses was an honour, but she demanded the highest standards – if Lady Palemoore arrived and Bryony wasn't finished, it would mean the cane for her for sure this close to the November meet.

She charged into the last ponygirl, Marmalade's, stall brandishing a bridle, and pounced on the surprised pony like a tiger. Armless like all Lady Palemoore's ponygirls, Marmalade squirmed, worm like, as Bryony's soaking raincoat smeared all over her bare flesh, but Bryony could handle her. Thread-buckle-jerk, thread-buckle-jerk, Bryony's practised hands worked feverishly, punctuated by little whimpers from Marmalade's horse-like voice as the mask tightened and the steel bit drew back into her mouth.

"I kissed a girl and I liked it..."

The song burst out of Bryony's phone as her 7:00 alarm sounded. Bryony dragged the reluctant show-pony towards the door. Marmalade was having none of the weather, and dug her heels in desperately on the threshold.

"Oh, come on, you stupid thing!" Bryony wailed. She ducked back inside the door and smacked Marmalade square on her naked rump. The pony winced and whinnied, but still quailed, her fear of the freezing rain yet greater than that of her young handler. Near panic, Bryony belted Marmalade again as hard as she could, sending drops of water flying and buttocks rippling, and this was at last enough to break Marmalade's resistance. The pony unwillingly tottered outside into the wall of cascading water. In seconds she was drenched, and this at least ended any fear of further soaking. Already looking like a drowned cat, she tamely let Bryony lead her to the end of the line beside Beach Bunny.

Not a moment too soon. At that instant, the Lady herself appeared, trudging around the corner in a pair of Wellington boots and armed with a huge umbrella.

"Young Bryony," she greeted in that flawless accent, "ready on time as always, I see. And in this horrendous weather too, you poor thing! Well done, your friend Amber could learn a thing or two from you."

As the Lady began her inspection of Bryony's work, Bryony let out the deepest breath of her life. She pulled her hood up in an absent-minded attempt to appear nonchalant. Several pints of water dumped out over her head.

It was going to be one of those days.