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New!Gallery New!Stories
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my Instructions to Be Trained as the Pony i Am my instructions had come by e-mail, short and concise like all Her commands. With Mistress Louise there was never a doubt that She expected to be obeyed. i left on Saturday morning very early heading east on I-76 during a gentle morning rain that made the ribbon of pavement before me shimmer with a patent leather shine. After i had left the Pittsburg exists far behind me, i headed north on a two lane state road that wound through lush green valleys and meadows. i drove leisurely through central Pennsylvania. It was a beautiful trip through rolling hills that stopped at steep valleys. Slow meandering streams snaked this way and that, and an hour later i was outside the huge fenced-in farm. The signs said it all: PRIVATE KEEP OUT NO TRESPASSING i was greeted at the main gate by a female guard wearing tight leather pants and handed an envelope that contained a map that would lead me to the stable area along with a list of instructions. “you’ve been assigned to stall #19,” she said, “your tack is hanging.” “Most of the other animals are already here.” ……………………………………………………………………………………………… The stable was full of activity when i arrived. There appeared to be close to three dozen human animals split equally between fillies and stallions, and more than a dozen stable boys were tending to their preparation. Two handsome grooms escorted me to stall #19, removed my clothes, then sprayed me down and scrubbed me with long handle brushes and warm soapy water. Ponies loved to be groomed and i’m no exception. They clipped my nails, trimmed my pubic hair, and inspected every inch of me before starting my harnessing. The younger of the two grooms picked up my supple red harness and began buckling it into place. “you must have a wonderful owner,” he said, “This is the most beautiful tack I’ve ever seen.” i wanted to speak, but knew i didn’t dare. Ponies have a tendency to continue talking as humans for a long time into their training and anyone can tell you that they’re paddled good and hard for every word. “Of course She’s wonderful,” i thought, “Lovely and wise, everything any submissive could dream about.” The second grooms reached for a latex glove and jar of lube, i bent forward with my legs perfectly straight and gripped my ankles. “Good boy,” he said, then added a friendly pat. He was very young, no more than twenty, but had the experienced hands of a Master. my sphincter tensed when his first digit opened me, “Easy boy, easy.” His voice was so calming, i relaxed and opened to his intrusion. “Good boy,” he added, “Just relax and enjoy your greasing. It will make everything easier. His second finger joined the first, then came a third. His hand was small, i wondered if he would fist me, but three fingers were sufficient to work the silicone gel into my passage. The other boy who had been combing out my tail now stepped forward and positioned the plug, then pushed very slowly. “Grip it boy”, he ordered “grip it.” i snapped shut around the hour-glass shaped missile then twitched my muscle so the tail swung right then left. The horsehair felt good scratching against my thighs. “Perfect,” they chorused, just as the stable door opened and the most beautiful man i had ever seen walked in to greet us. ................................................................................................................................................ The owner of the farm was an Argentinean named Diego Brunner. His grandfather had been an Oberstleutnant in the German army before fleeing at the end of World War II with a fortune in jewels and paintings. His grandmother was an Argentinean ballerina. They say he inherited her beauty and his sadistic nature. The young Diego had been raised on a large estancia bordering Uruguay, yet close enough to Buenos Aires that he could enjoy the cities culture as well as her decadence. And of course he spent his youth sampling the lovely senoritas in the city and the handsome gauchos on the pampas. He was wearing riding clothes that afternoon, tight tan britches and high brown riding boots. His white silk shirt was half open to the waist and in the hot summer heat clung to his chest. Under the wet shirt his nipples appeared as dark and plump as grapes. Every eye in the room followed him as he moved from pony to pony. He charmed everyone with compliments, every girl and every boy. He touched our hair, squeezed our muscles, and before moving to the next pony he let his hands linger between our legs. i watched a haughty blond pony girl swoon when his finger moved between the lips of her sex and tickle the little bud. By the time he got to stall #19 i was stiff with anticipation. He smiled at me with big white teeth. “Bueno!” Then he stroked my cock and i thought i’d die. “Tiempo,” he shouted and the grooms quickly herded us down a chute made of barn wood fencing. We walked single file as they coaxed us with electric prods and playful swats from their paddles. i could hear each pony whinny delightfully as they made their way through the building and out into the bright sunlight and an outdoor corral. On an adjoining patio a cocktail party was in progress with over a dozen riders in costume. Louise stepped forward and raised a glass of champagne in a toast. “The livestock has arrived,” She announced. ……………………………………………………………………………………………… The patio was crowded with handsome Masters and beautiful Mistresses in outrageous fetish riding attire, yet every eye in the corral fixed on Mistress Louise. She was every pony boy’s wet dream and every pony girls too. i scratched at the dirt with my hoofs when I saw Her. She wore white riding britches with a full leather seat. i’ve dreamed so long about licking the leather clean that it’s become a magnificent obsession of mine. The red jacket She wore hit Her natural waistline gracefully, very snug and chic, and the boots were crafted from an exotic skin, perhaps some South American lizard. Louise was exquisite, trendy, sexy, and just a little too perfect, but isn’t that the stuff that a modern day Goddess is made of? i could feel the excitement growing in the corral as we all anticipated our Master’s plans for the day. The small herd moved closer and closer to the fence till we all rubbed up against another pony. i felt a soft filly’s breast against my chest, then a stiff stallion’s cock rubbing my backside. We moved against one another with a growing excitement as the hot sun lathered our bodies and the feel of skin against skin fueled our passions. Then suddenly a fence rail fell over, then another and we were suddenly free from the confinement of the corral. The first pony to bolt was an Irish filly with a red tail and a green shamrock tattooed on her lower back. She had a tiny waist no more than eighteen or nineteen inches making her hips and rump appear very wide and very round. i watched her full rump wobble and her tail shake as she began running towards the meadow and without a moment’s thought i followed with the rest of the herd. We are after all, only animals. ............................................................................................................................... i ran with an exhilaration that gave me a sense of freedom that was almost an aphrodisiac. Louise had always said that i had to wear blinders when running so that my small mind would not be distracted from the task assigned to me. Yet now i ran stretching my neck, moving my head from side to side to enjoy the beauty of the ponies beside me. To my right was a black stallion with a prodigious cock, and next to him a male Arabian with long legs and a sleek rump. To my right was a matched pair of dark haired pony girls with pierced nipples and noses. We all nickered loudly and felt deliciously naughty. i’d never experienced anything as satisfying as that run in the hot sun with the summer wind blowing in my face. I studied the faces of every pony I could see. It was obvious that the stallions were aroused. my own cock was high and hard and my plug worked itself deeper and deeper inside me massaging my prostate till i dripped like a faucet. The fillies’ mouths hung open and when the sun glistened between their legs the moisture was evident, the burrs attached to their crotch straps were chafing delightfully. Then the horn sounded the call to the hunt and we realized that it was only a game. Their game. .................................................................................................................................. The grooms ran to the stables and quickly saddled the horses then delivered one to each Master and Mistress. Earlier in the day they had drawn names for the hunt and everyone had a short list of animals to return to the stable. The first one with all their ponies would of course be declared the winner. Louise sat tall on huge chestnut stallion. She slid back and forth a few times in the saddle to adjust Her position, then did it again just because it felt good. She spanned the horizon with a pair of field glasses and quickly spotted Her ponies, a Belgian filly with a platinum blond tail, and a deeply tanned young Florida stallion with exquisite little buttocks. She checked the lasso attached to the saddle horn and the rifle sheaths that held two of Her favorite paddles. The Dominants had devised a little plan earlier in the day that allowed everyone to play the game to their own enjoyment. “They’ll both get a good spanking,” She had decided. “Naughty animals had to be disciplined. And then perhaps a little reward.” Louise cropped the chestnut lightly, the ponies wouldn’t be so lucky. ……………………………………………………………………………………… i heard whinnies and neighs as ponies were roped and tethered, then disciplined in a variety of ways. But i kept on running. i remembered an erotic story i had read years ago that involved a beautiful, naughty princess who kept escaping from her bondage. During her last attempt she had been caught by two female Amazon guards and spanked back to captivity. The image of the Amazons swinging their paddles at the impudent little buttocks of the princess played on my mind! Would I be spanked back to the corral. By who? A Master? A Mistress? The lovely Louise D? And then i heard a strange whirring sound that frightened me. At first i thought it was a lasso being spun round and round while measuring the distance to its target. But it was different, yet similar. Then just as the notion crossed my mind, the bolas wrapped around my legs and i fell quickly to the ground and rolled down a small hill. Diego straddled my body, reached down and took hold of harnessing, and lifted me up and over a fallen tree. When i felt my harness loosen and my plug escape, my passions rose. He placed a boot on my lower back then removed his wide worn leather belt. i can’t remember ever receiving a harder strapping. The leather bit into the soft flesh of my buttocks and we both grunted like men do when they’re having sex. i was actually trembling when he stopped and i heard his tight jodhpurs being lowered. i dared look back over my shoulder. “Por favor mi commandante,” i begged, “Aprisa y pesado”. But i didn’t have to beg. He was a brutal lover and i knew after a few strokes that i would carry a sweet soreness home with me that would last a week. .................................................................................................................................... It was probably the most wonderful day of my life. i crawled into bed that night wonderfully tired and sore and ready for a long long sleep. The door creaked open and the moonlight shined on those marvelous white riding pants, and now there was an unmistakable outline, a bulge that made my breathing quicken. i rolled over on my stomach and raised my hips. “Por favor, mi Diosa.”
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