Pony Trap by Deborah Ford
As you can imagine, Thomas needed to say something, make some kind of protest. The people at the Manor had made a dreadful mistake.
Here he is dressed as a pony girl, in thigh length high heeled boots and black tights. His wrists and ankles had been secured behind a post and his breathing was now shallow because of the tautness of the leather bodice-corset that gave him small breast mounds on his chest and a girly narrow waist and the appearance of swelling hips.
And yet … it was that very predicament that made him reluctant to speak. Something about the outfit that sort of demoted him.
Before him were the two tall, formidable black mistresses, Miss Olive and Miss Khaki, along with the adorable but cheeky male maid, Poppy.
And now, staring at him from behind the small group was the imposing figure of the Master with his superior smirk, holding a leash that was attached to a collar about his wife, Izabella’s neck!
Izabella wore the same uniform as the dominant women, tight white blouse, with the ruffles down the front, teasingly exposing a V shape of pert breasts plus the knee height black boots.
The Master said to Poppy. “Where’s the pony’s head attire?”
Poppy appeared flustered, “Sorry, Master. Yes, Master.”
She, (or should Thomas see her as a ‘he’ now?), lifted out of the white box a trailing series of long leather straps with tiny bells attached. The bells quickly produced a gently musical sound as Poppy held them out to the man who titled himself as The Master.
The Master shook his head, “Do you really think I put these things on a trainee pony girl?”
“Oh no, Master,” Poppy was overcome with fear, looking from Mistress Olive to Mistress Khaki for guidance.
Miss Khaki snatched the harness from the maid with a clanging of small bells, sneering a, “Dumb bitch!”
“Sorry Miss Khaki,” Poppy said before stepping quickly away.
“Come closer, slut,” The Master said to Izabella, giving a gentle tug on the leash. “As I told you earlier, the head harness is one unit, that locks at the rear of the pony’s vacuous head. As his new owner, you should do the locking.”
Thomas gave a start, feeling the wooden post dig into his back. The master had called his wife ‘slut’. Why didn’t Izabella protest? She hated vulgar men, and she detested bad language. Embarrassingly she wasn’t afraid to remonstrate with men in a bar when they cursed aloud.
Worse. Suddenly Thomas could make out the words on his wife’s collar. The first line read Miss Indigo, and the second read ‘Owned by The Master’.
Thomas was fully aware how Izabella hated being dominated. She often took the upper hand in their BDSM games, so Thomas could envisage the ‘Miss’ title and the outfit. But owned by the Master? She despised dominant men, that’s why she married Thomas.
It was time to interject, just to save his wife from her humiliating ordeal.
Thomas took in as much air to his lungs as permitted by the restricting corset and said, “Erm, sir, erm, Master, listen. I hope you don’t mind me saying, there’s been a big mistake here. No one’s fault, really. I guess these things happen …”
The Master laughed, asking Izabella, “Does your boy always jabber like that?”
She giggled, “He can do, Master. When he gets excited.”
Everyone laughed, and Thomas’ red face grew so hot he could feel the heat stretch down to his neck.
Miss Khaki was holding up the mouth bit part of the bridle to Thomas’ mouth.
Thomas tried again, “You see Master, I’m sure this will make sense, and you will be able to see where the confusion has arisen. I wanted to see my wife in the pony outfit, she is so stunning …gulp, uuuurgh …”
As he spoke the leather clad bit was pushed deep into his mouth by a determined Miss Khaki, and the harness straps pulled taut around his cheeks to the back of his head, with a gentle ringing of bells in his ears. He felt it belted shut.
Horror. He couldn’t speak! The leather bit pushed against the corners of his mouth and rested firmly on his tongue.
It had happened so quickly and now his feelings of vulnerability welled to an explosion of panic.
He was bound helpless, dressed in the absurd pony girl attire and now could no longer speak. He needed to tell them to stop this. It wasn’t why he brought his wife to the stables. They had got it all so wrong! It should be her in the pony gear, secured to the post.
The Master pulled a small gold lock from the white box.
“Here slut, just thread it through the two D rings at the back of your pony’s head and push it shut.”
Looking apprehensive, as if not wishing to disappoint this bully of a man, Izabella took hold of the lock and reached around Thomas’s head.
She was so close he could smell her perfume as he heard the lock click home with a surprising electronic ping. What on earth was the ping?
Izabella kissed her husband on his burning cheek, whispering, “I know you love these pervy games and we’ve got so many pervy tricks for you to learn! You’re going to love it!”
No! Thomas tried to say into his gag, but he only managed to create a grunt and set off the jangling bells around his face.
“There you are, slut,” The Master said. “Now we can complete the outfit.”
“Gosh, Master, I feel so powerful!” Izabella stood at the end of the Master’s leash beaming with her cheeks showing a growing a delightful pink hue.
The Master laughed, and the Mistresses joined him with their own giggling.
“Slut, that was just the first lock. By the time he goes out for his first bout of training he’ll have loads of locks. We like our pony girls to be totally helpless.”
Izabella grinned at her husband trapped in his harness gear, “Oh I bet you are loving this!”
Thomas shook his head quickly making the bells emit a powerful cacophony in his ears. Even when he had stopped, remaining perfectly still, he could still hear the bells tingling away in his head. He vowed to remain calm and still to avoid the embarrassment of the resonating bells.
“OK,” The Master said, “now the collar. Slut, your collar is an elegant silver, but when we discussed it back in the Manor you thought pink would be best for your pony?”
“He loves pink,” Izabella said. “He’ll adore it.”
Again, Thomas shook his head violently with objection. What he did in the privacy of their own home wasn’t to be shared to an audience like this.
As the strident bell ringing subsided Thomas saw The Master lift from the white box a metallic, pink coloured collar with a screen, like that of Poppy and his wife.
“Now place the collar around your pony’s neck,” the Master ordered.
Thomas swallowed, not wanting to move or squirm, simply in order to prevent the bells going off.
Izabella approached him with the collar pulling apart both its pink arms so it folded around her husband’s neck, hugging his skin. A shocked Thomas heard a click and an electronic ping as the collar was firmly fitted behind his head.
Placing a palm on Thomas’ warm cheek, Izabella smiled at him, saying softly, “It must be like all your Christmases coming together at the same time.”
No! Thomas shook his head sending the bells into their incessant ringing. Oh! He felt furious. He tried to push out the bit with his tongue, but it had been forced back so far, his mouth couldn’t even close let alone force out the invading gag.
The Master held eye contact with Thomas until the pony lowered his own eyes with mortification.
“Excellent!” The Master announced. “So slut, now get out your phone.”
Thomas watched his wife slide out a phone from her boot and turn it on.
Thomas became quickly aware that everyone’s attention was on him, as if expecting a reaction. Even Poppy smiled knowingly at him and not in a pleasant way. It didn’t feel reassuring. What the hell was about to happen?
The Master continued, “So go to the Manor app. The one we just put on.”
Izabella sucked in a nervous breath, she never liked techie stuff.
“Great,” he continued, “Now enter the Miss Indigo folder.”
As she did, Izabella said, “Oh!”
“Fantastic,” he said. “So enter the collar section and it will say searching for collars.”
Her phone pinged and Izabella said, “Oh yes. It is searching.”
“Fine,” he grinned. “Now hold it to the font of the new pony girl’s collar. Even touch it with your phone.”
She followed his instructions anxiously.
“Nothing’s happening,” she said. “I told you, I’m hopeless with all this techie stuff.”
He said, “All the Mistresses here can use it. You’ll soon pick it up.”
Mistresses? Was his wife really going to become a Mistress in this strange place?
Suddenly, Thomas felt his collar vibrate and heard two bleeps one from the screen at the front of his collar and the other from his wife’s phone.
“Oh!” She squealed. “It says paired.”
Miss Olive said, “Well done girl. You’re on your way.”
“Great,” the Master said, “clever girl. Now you have to name your pony. We have some names available. You’d just register it to your own pony.” He took out his own phone, swiped a few times and said, “Ok., Names available. We have Treasure, Izzy, Aurora, Vera.”
Izabella seemed doubtful, “I don’t know.”
Miss Olive said, “I’ve always liked Tango and Astrid.”
Shaking her head, Miss Khaki said, “I’m surprised no one has used Freya or Cleo. They are lovely names for a pony.”
Izabella screwed up her nose. “Gosh it’s hard naming your pony.”
“You can change its name when ever you like,” The Master said supportively. “Some Mistresses give them funny names as a punishment.”
Miss Olive said, “I kept one of mine as Dopey for weeks!” She smiles at Izabella and said, “She soon learned to behave!”
Everyone laughed and Thomas squirmed. He didn’t want a dumb, bloody, humiliating pony name! Why didn’t they take out the bridle and ask him?
“Oh!” Izabella looked triumphantly at the Master, “When he does his dressing up at home he calls himself Lacy!”
The Master thought this was wonderful. “Then Lacy she will be. Type it into the name box. Then press enter.”
After tapping her screen, Thomas felt his collar vibrate and ping.”
The two Mistresses clapped.
Miss Khaki said, “Lacy is adorable. We’ve never had a pony called Lacy before.” She ran a finger over the pink collar just below the screen. “It looks so sweet! Wonderful. Well done Miss Indigo!”
What? The name Lacy was now on his collar? Fucking hell! He groaned and as his head tilted, so the bells gently rang.
Suddenly the Master grew serious. His face darkened as he lifted up Thomas’ chin.
“Listen Lacy. You always answer to your name. If you don’t it’ll fuck up our system and then one of the Mistresses or Sirs around here will have to deal with you. Got it?”
Thomas was so terrified he nodded quickly, no longer minding the horrible bells.
“Good pony.” The Master smiled as if all was well. He turned to Izabella, dragging her right up next to her pony attired husband. “Now you’ll be able to see what your pony does through the collar camera and hear anything your pony says through the mic. If you want to that is. It’s all on your phone.”
“Thank you, Master.”
She spoke as if gasping for air, rising up on her toes, and her lips parting. The Master grabbed and kissed her, tongue deep, holding her crushing her body with his muscular arms as if she were a toy.
His wife groaned and wriggled but submitted breathlessly to his advances.
Thomas was livid! He had shared his cuckold fantasies with her, but it was just a fantasy. How dare his own wife kiss this brute of a man in front of her own helpless husband!
They parted with Izabella reaching forward for more kissing, her eyes still closed.
“Hungry slut,” the Master laughed.
Izabella emitted a hoarse laugh and remained still, her now open eyes fixed on him.
He continued, “Wait till I get you back to my room and give you the fucking you’ve only ever dreamt about in your life.”
“She put her palms on his chest and said weakly, “Oh yes Master!”
Fucking Hell! This was outrageous! Thomas squirmed helplessly in his bonds, biting at his bit.
Everyone laughed at his antics as the ringing grew intense.
“Hold still,” The Master commanded Thomas, before adding, “Lacy.”
They all laughed further.
He said to the terrified pony girl, “You need to be still while we fit your little last piece to you.” He grinned evilly. “You very little last piece for your little piece.”
Thomas swallowed hard, what could he mean?