Ponygirl Yvette

by Anthony Masters

- do not use without the author's permission.


Yvette was a quite attractive girl. Not stunning or ravishingly beautiful but just fairly attractive. In her last year at the high-school, one boy on the school bus said "Phwoa! She was at the front of the queue when the tits were handed out." He was young, he was rude and he was wrong. She was not at the front but to be fair she was a long way from the back. She was reasonably slim but a bit 'hippy'. If she asked you "Is my bum too big?" You would answer, if you were honest "No. Well, not really." You would be right. She was slim, but womanly hips, not supermodel hips, are what she had, and none the worse for it.

It was her hips that led to her downfall really. She worked as a waitress in a restaurant in the small town in which she lived. One evening, fairly early, a stranger came in and sat down at a corner table. The table was not one of Yvette's and while the other waitress looked after him, Jacques, the proprietor, asked Yvette to get some new menu cards out of the cupboard. The cupboard was a low one, just opposite where the stranger was sitting and while he contemplated the menu, Yvette crouched down with her back to him as she took the cards from the back of the cupboard. As she did so, the waistband of her jeans slipped down slightly, revealing the cleavage at the top of her buttocks. The stranger noticed this and his attention wandered from the menu as he felt a surge of desire. Then Yvette stood up and, still with her back to the customer, bent from the waist as she closed the door of the cupboard.

The stranger gazed at the sight of her legs with that bottom and those womanly hips above, and imagined how well they would look if the girl was naked, in the open air and in the warm sun of the south. Even then Yvette would have been safe, but as she walked away from the cupboard she dropped the pile of menu cards she was carrying and had to bend to pick them up. As she did so, she was facing the customer, and he had an excellent view down her rather low-cut blouse to her breasts, hanging heavily in her bra. That sealed her fate. The stranger turned his attention back to the menu and ordered. After he had finished his meal and paid he left the restaurant still reflecting on what he had seen. The Prefect, for it was he, then made two phone calls to some associates of his. Yvette carried on working until the end of the evening. Then she finished her work and left. On her way home she was intercepted.

A month or so later, in the stables at an old chateau in the midi, a part-trained ponygirl was sleeping in the straw of her stall when the stable hand came in, roused her with a kick, unfastened her neck chain and led her outside into the sunlit stable yard. There, having hosed her down to remove the muck and straw from her and having plugged her and bridled her, he harnessed her into a light trap. Shortly afterwards, the Prefect stepped into the trap and, thinking once more how fortunate it had been that he had dined out in that particular restaurant on that particular evening, gave his ponygirl a sharp cut with his crop and started Yvette, for it was she, off down the track, as he gazed once more at those, now properly naked, legs, womanly hips, and well-striped bottom.