The Ride, Part 1

by Wendy Slippers

- provided for use on SirJeff's Ponygirls.
- do not use without the author's permission.

From an actual journal entry, names and such changed. I was with a friend of mine, who I’ll call Anthony. He’s a little older than me, distinguished, and a great way to kill a couple hours! He can talk about anything, is genuinely interested in other people. He’s got salt and pepper hair, not a muscular body, thin, and well, masculine.

“Are you in the mood for an adventure?” He was quizzical, and playful, and I soooo have a hard time saying no sometimes. I mean, he’s been a friend for a long time, nothing weird, nice, with similar interests like trancing, I was pretty safe right? He went on before I could stop him. “You need a ride in the country, something to unwind those knots, girl!” I laughed. There was nothing that could unwind the knots of worrying about your parents possibly divorcing, losing your college money and room and board, car, basically everything I have- and this would be the second time in two years this occurred. I nodded, cuz my heart couldn’t verbalize yes.

He was up in no time, massaging my shoulders. His hands never strayed, just working my neck in small circles, my shoulders, my upper back, and along the top of my collarbones. Sometimes hard pressure, but usually light and stroking, pulling, and as his hands got warmer, it felt even better. I have a weakness for having my hair pulled, gently, and stiff fingers run across my scalp. He was saying “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, I’ll understand, stuff like that. I just kinda laughed I think, and got up, grabbed my purse.

The wind was whipping my hair around wildly, It was too early to be very hot yet, and we must have looked like uptown snobs, cruising the countryside in his convertible. He had his white shirt unbuttoned a few inches down, and in jeans and boots, he looked relaxed but confident. I had my khaki shorts, with the fabric belt, a simple white cotton T-shirt, my ankle high socks with my hiking shoes. The shoes add a couple inches to me too, which adds to confidence, though I’m not sure why. I slid up beside him, so he could put his arm around my shoulder. We didn’t talk much, just pointing out the dark trees, the fallen ones adding brown splashes in the green and coal shadows of the woods. He worked his hand on my neck and back of my head.

“Does that feel nice”? “Do you like that”? “Does that feel good”? He kept checking with me, but his hands are magical and yes could be the only answer for his massaging touch. I of course sometimes didn’t answer, just smiling.

I opened my eyes sleepily, and at once noticed my hair wasn’t blowing in my face. The sun was warming my cheeks, and neck. I heard birds calling, singing, two or three different songs. The most amazing scents of pine, dead wood, hot grass, and livestock filled the air. If you ever smelled a horse, you’ll know it instantly. The leather, the sweat, the hay and alfalfa, and like, sawdust too. The colorful flowers in the flower bed radiated happiness and contentment, and smelled wonderful. So many smells I didn’t want to wake up, or get up, just sit and smell. But he was holding the door for me, so in a daze I rose and my hand in his, we walked toward an old wood barn.

The sliding door to the old log barn was open, in fact it probably can’t close anymore, with all the weeds overgrowing the doorway, and the rust on the slide rail thing. He said to watch the step, but I honestly don’t think my feet were touching the ground at all, and I floated by the old hand water pump, into the old building. It had several large stalls, and winch things beside each one. There was a workbench with lots of old gadgets on it, and many leather harnesses hanging from pegs on the far wall. Some were really nice and shiny, with tons of brass and chrome like buckles and little D shaped rings. There was a burlap lump in the middle of the place, and piles of hay. The corners had rusty sharp things, like for cutting hay or something, so I avoided the corners, hoping that no huge bugs would come out of the hay and crawl up my leg. Just thinking about the possibility sent the sensation of grasshoppers leaping onto me into the forefront of my mind. If I had been fully aware I would have noticed that as a sign I’m at least a little trancy, but I wasn’t fully aware, and hadn’t been since the car. Everything was surreal, like a Disney cartoon. Reds were so red, and I heard him asking me to join him by the workbench seconds after heading over to him, as if sound was delayed in the movie playing for me in that old comfy barn.

The desktop was so dirty and covered in wood chips I was afraid to touch anything.

“Yes”, I said softly. Then he asked moments later if I would accept something. It occurred he may want to give me jewelry or something but we’ve never been that romantic. Just comfortable friends with similar interests, and I felt a little awkward with the idea he was giving me a necklace, as he draped it over my neck and lifting my hair. Awkward and dizzy I think.

There was a soft click, and I was feeling for the necklace as I asked where we were. “This is my place, my property. I train ponies here.” I felt really bad for the ponies, in the crowded dirty place, with hay everywhere. My fingers felt a thick leather collar, with a cool, metal lock on it. I looked up not just a little confused.

“Hon, what is this, it’s on me,” both my hands felt the leather accoutrement with metal stud things, rings all over it jingling, it was thick, and stiff, and scratched a little where it sat on my collarbones. It felt like he had told me a joke that I didn’t get, but I was sure it was funny. I giggled nervously, drunkenly. “We had a workshop once, back west,” I was reminiscing freely, floating between past and present as he approached. He stood in front of me, in too much of a hurry for me to grasp his intentions and really not caring, too absorbed in my thoughts. I remember at one point then, I had taken off my T-shirt, and hung it on a yucky rusted nail, certainly staining my once-white shirt for good! I had my bra undone, and my hands held it to my chest, the straps tickling my wrists. I had been remembering riding our horse as a girl, through the Bighorns, and was unimpressed with having to stop that beautiful memory, but as I tried to grasp what it was I had been doing, Anthony’s breath in my ear carried his intentions. “Relax, relax, relax, we’re getting ready for our ride, we’re going riding, our ride in the country, relax,,,.

I grasped for clarity but was washing down a concrete storm overflow during a rainstorm, and couldn’t get my claws into solid ground, nor did I feel like it, cuz it would require being like, waking up, and in my mind I just wanted to roll over and snuggle up to whatever dream I had been living.

I was in mid sentence, fumbling with verbs as he simply took the bra and hung it with the shirt, my hands still in modesty’s place. My left hand was taken quickly and a warm furry bracelet was buckled on, and then the other, both very plush and so silly I laughed. They had these brass looking rings on them, and little toy looking locks! I couldn’t help shaking my head and giggling, I felt a little too warm, the air was stuffy and smelled so like straw and leather and I realized he was humming, Lyrically, melodically, I tried to find the melody in my mind’s recesses. I closed my eyes, humming. I think I found the melody, my head kind of swaying with it, when I felt my left arm pulled and heard a click like the hook makes when you hook your dog up outside.

Both my furry bracelets were clicked to opposite sides of the stall I was standing in! My breasts weren’t excited ,which was maybe odd, they were relaxed, as unconcerned with my doings as I had been. He was standing by me, his cologne was powerful, since it was the only synthetic fragrance around, and its headiness made me swoon. Maybe I already was swoony. He was pressed against my side, with his hands lightly caressing my body, not tentatively, confidently, just lightly and slowly. I asked him where my shoes were, when I noticed the tickle of the straw against my ankles. His hands then found one of my magic places, a place that has been used in so many hypnosis stage shows that it’s reaction is pretty ingrained and automatic. I felt that sinking falling away feeling, and that sudden dizzying heaviness, and new I was going to have to trust Anthony, because the lap bar had totally been pulled down, and I was resigned to the coming roller coaster ride. He wouldn’t stop his soothing circles! I tried to exhale, to sigh, but this moan came out that completely embarrassed me. That made things even deeper, and I wasn’t sure what was dream and what was real. If he’d said a unicorn was beside me I would have totally seen, smelled and heard him!

His hand stopped on the spot and I inhaled. I felt alive, exhilarated, but very disconnected. Almost like I was watching myself. He had just put my foot down. He had lifted both feet, removing my hiking type shoes, and replacing them with really sharp looking black boots. But standing in them felt like they had a hard front soul, and were missing the heel! They were made like a high heel though, with my toes pointed and my calves tight. I was, except for the knee high boots with the strange souls, and my furry cuffs and collar, naked. My pants and panties were gone and I didn’t even notice when they left or where they went to. His hands roamed back up my body, and I was saying to well, really nobody I guess, “why? Wait hon, is that a belt hon?” And then seconds later I saw and comprehended what my mouth must have already noticed- Anthony had pulled a thick black strap around my tummy very tightly, and I sucked in my breath as it went around and he secured it. I was still looking down when he pulled the two upward, with little triangles in them, too small really for my breasts to fit inside, so they acted a little like a bra, supporting and framing me.

“Wait hon this,,” I was putting thoughts together as he was strapping the lower ones between my legs, a well placed diamond shape becoming some weird medieval thong. When he pulled them all snugly, my butt cheeks lifted and it pulled back my shoulders. I was standing in strange high heel boots, my arms still hooked to the rails of the wooden stall, displaying my genitals and so mentally freaking it was nearly orgasmic. I was trying to catch my breath, but the inhaling stretched the straps more, squeezing and rubbing areas that enticed me more. I exhaled, and the shiny straps moved again, their rubbing causing me to gasp, and the whole thing started again! I went on like that for what seemed like hours, till I wasn’t aware of time, or much of anything except a couple of metal D rings rubbing and tinkling, and some very pleasurable straps. If I’d been really aware, I would soooo have freaked, but I’m not like that, I mean, “Wendy” isn’t into that straps and stuff, sooo, maybe. I know this sounds crazy bizarre, but I was thinking, “maybe I wasn’t Wendy?”

“Hon, wait, itches, , , the leather,, I mean, why”, He was smiling as I worded and reworded some sort of question, but he pulled a strappy cappy thing from behind him, and plop it went on my head with little tinkling buckles jangling. “Hon I’m naked, please why, what,” was all I got out, and this black rubber stick went into my mouth. He pulled on something by my ear, then the other and I remember feeling my hair get entangled, and the metal connection of the rubbery bit catching the corner of my mouth.

I said, “Hon this is a pony outfit! Oh My God!” He heard, “Huuntitibapoonafut” and my saliva drained out my mouth’s edge, right onto my right breast! Ick! I shook my head, but when I went to pull, I noticed the leather strap now running from my collar to the right stall pole. Yanking on it did nothing but jar my top like, 6 vertebrae or something. It wasn’t painful, but you wouldn’t do it twice. All these little chrome D rings and things all over these straps jingled when I shook and struggled.

His hands were there again. My whole body melted, almost making me fall off the weird high heel boots with no heel. His words from behind were something like, That’s a good girl, relax. You’re such a good pony aren’t you” and his hand added more pressure to its teasing and relaxing caress. He knew what he was doing to me, I could sense his smile. I was trying to make a word, a phrase, imploring, but his hands on a few special spots were erasing everything, even light and heat, only his words and the pleasure in his palms.

“Hold still now, so obedient, what a good ride we will have won’t we?” His hand was between my legs, his longest finger tracing my anus, feeling very gooey. He grabbed a strap in front of me, and then the hand I couldn’t see began to push something into me from behind! I gripped my cheeks, saying “wait wait” but coming out muffled through my rubbery training bit. He sensed it wasn’t going well, and began to exploit my sensitive triggery spot again. I shook my head, tried to say no, but what was the point when before I could even pass a slobbery syllable past my bit, he had lifted a foot, widened my stance, and in went this hard thing which must have been a foot long! I can confess here now, at first it hurt a little, but then it was very very arousing, and it was in so deep it wasn’t even trying to come back out. I felt him buckle that front strap to it.

He stepped back, and I was able to “step back” as well, mentally. I wasn’t me anymore. I was nearly naked, except for straps framing my genitals and a head harness and a bit in my mouth that tasted like a bicycle inner tube. There was a plug in my butt. I had never and would never allow that, but, it wasn’t really me was it now? I tucked my pelvis under, seeing how the anal plug would feel if I tensed, and it really didn’t bother much. The movement caused the long horse hair attached to it to swish against my legs. My whole body jumped for joy! I had a tail! A beautiful long tail! I twisted my hips and kinked them, doing fancy isolations like dancing, making the tail fly!

“You like your tail, my pony?” I didn’t even hear the question before I was nodding violently. If I had said “Oh God Wow!” I would have blown more spit down my chest, so, I guess I decided talking would be minimal, since it was hard to understand anyways, right?

Continued in The Ride Part 2