Ponygirl Spring

by Rider

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




"It had been a long winter, and the Pony girl was restless. She had tired of the long hours of dressage training in the stables. Hours spent at the end of the lunge rope, repeating her drills until they were her natural way of thinking. Often, during the past month, her mind had wandered from the performance in hand, and she had to be brought back to reality by the sharp sting of her owner's crop.

She knew that she deserved it, but it did nothing to quell her restlessness. Now, Spring had arrived, bringing thoughts of the joys of Summer. Her owner had fitted her with a newly made tail and she had wandered from room to room, delighting in the soft brush of its luxurious length against the back of her legs as she paced the house. Secretly, she had hoped that it would have matched her own mane, but accepted that it was a wonderful match for her skin. The main thing was that it had pleased her owner; lifting her from her gloom.

All day she had gone from room to room, following the progress of the sun as it moved around the house. Now she ran to the window, kneeling with one leg up on the settee, draping herself over it to stare out at the dappled green of the trees.

"Soon," she whispered to herself. "Soon". She pictured the time when she would be led outside for her first real run of the year. She would stand still, exulting at the feel of her owner's firm hands as she was harnessed. She would know the feeling of security as the straps were tightened around her. She could almost smell the soft tang of leather as it warmed to her body, almost hear the clink of metal as the buckles were fastened.

She would breathe in the fresh smell of the hay and the sharp smell of Coltsfoot oil, as she wet her lips then opened her mouth to accept the bit, standing as patiently as she could while it was adjusted. Her owner's hands would caress the nape of her neck as her mane was lifted to fasten the buckles; making sure that the cheek straps would not chafe, yet be tight enough to keep her head lifted. Working with her as she worked her jaw to get her tongue out of the way, tossing her head to get the bit into a comfortable position between her teeth, making sure that it would not pinch at the corners of her mouth when the reins were used to turn her.

Then she would be backed between the shafts of the pony cart, her wrist cuffs locked onto the shafts and the heavier straps would be joined to the harness rings at her hips, set to take the weight as she was wheeled out of the paddock and put to the slope that ran up to the woods. She would lean into her harness, hearing her owner's quiet clucks to her, encouraging her to take the slope at a walk rather than a canter. Then they would be into the woods, the broad trail winding through the golden pleasures of fresh growth as she was turned to take the way to the lake.

She recalled the last run there. How she arrived with the sweat running down her body, her breasts flecked with her saliva. It had only taken light flicks of the whip across her back to keep her running at her best for the last quarter mile. She had been allowed a short rest on the shafts, sucking in lungfuls of air before being unhitched and wiped down. Then she was walked along the shoreline to cool before being led to the water.

Kneeling to drink, she paused to look at her own reflection. Her face appeared framed by her bridle, cheeks aglow from her exertions. Her eyes looked back at her, and she had winked at herself. As she bent forward, she had been struck by the symmetry of her cheekbones behind the straps. The fullness of her lips, shining through the coating of saliva, were accentuated by the pressure of her bit. She looked so fit and healthy.

Her heart sang to her, "I am a Pony girl, a Pony girl."

She had been unaware of her owner's approach until hands stroked over her raised flanks. "Enough of admiring yourself, beautiful creature, drink up". The words and tone conveyed all the love and respect for her, and she felt a surge of contentment and happiness as she lowered her mouth into the surface of the lake to nuzzle at the clean water.


Rider 2003