Pony Trap Chapter 12 by Deborah Ford
As readers will be aware, I have not spared any details of the turbulent sissy’s suffering during this dramatic change from husband to cuckolded pony girl. This next section starts with a despairing scene of which you have now been warned.
Of all the punishments, humiliations and beatings Thomas had endured since arriving at The Manor, none were to cause more distress that what took place on that unforgettable late afternoon.
The orange sun was low, and yet cosily warm. The pony girls were still being put through their paces by patient dominants and a few of the delightfully dressed maids from the Manor were to be found bustling around the stable carrying out their instructions.
But poor Thomas was on his hands and knees on the hard ground inside the stable holding his breath, the trauma of the situation making his eyes moisten and blurring the sexy sites around him.
The Trainer said, “It’s all part of the procedure, and you must be brave.”
Thomas choked as he said, “Yes, Sir.”
The defeated sissy was about to ask, ‘if it was all truly necessary’, when he heard the lock on his tail click open.
He gasped. “Oh no!”
“Get a grip, sissy. I’ll do it quickly.”
Oh! Thomas’ mouth fell open how would he endure this?
He felt the tail butt plug being wiggled in his backside and then, ‘gloop’, it was tugged out.
At once, Thomas felt open, empty and humiliated. As if part of himself had been removed.
“Get up, sissy.”
In a total state of shock Thomas didn’t even say, ‘yes, Sir’, as he obeyed his instruction by rising stiffly upright on to his high heeled boots. He looked at the Trainer with earnest hope.
“Don’t give me those big baby blue eyes!” The Trainer sounded regretful. “It’s part of the procedure and the process. A pony girl can have her tail removed at any point if she is sufficiently naughty.”
Thomas was horror struck. “You mean, even after the ceremony, sir?” He could barely speak the words, “I might still have my tail removed?”
“If you’re naughty or a dominant doesn’t believe you are being well behaved, then yes. The only time you tramps seem to be able to accept not wearing a tail is when you are told to be maids. Obviously, maids don’t wear tails stuffed up their cute arses.”
That made complete sense to Thomas. After all, if you looked as pretty and sexy as a French maid then a tail would be superfluous.
The Trainer was holding out his old belt with the dreadful stringy tail. “Put this on.”
“But it’s horrible! It’s so ugly!”
“You arguing, sissy?”
A pouting Thomas snatched the demeaning belt and put it around himself, tightening it into position. He felt the horrid strings tickle the back of his legs. Just a couple of feet away, on the table near the wall sat Thomas’ prized tail. The one of which he had been so proud. Its dark butt plug and plush cloud of tail made him ache with longing. He should be wearing it. It should be locked into his bottom. Make him feel whole.
And could it get any worse? Just at that moment two sexily clad pony girls wandered passed in a chummy huddle, giggling.
Thomas watched their delightful tails swish back and fore as they wiggled away. Bitches! How unfair. And how empty he felt down below. His fingers felt at his buttock cheeks encased in the dark sensuous hose. This was terrible!
“Sir,” Thomas felt one knee bend before the other, but ensured he maintained his sissy, simpering speech from the front of his mouth. “Sir, I don’t think I can wait until the ceremony tonight. Please may I have my tail back? Please?”
Suddenly the Trainer lost all patience.
“Sissy, you dumb fuck. Firstly, you are not guaranteed a place on the stage at the ceremony tonight. The tail has to be earned. Secondly, your Mistress was clear in that you should be denied the tail until you’ve earned it.” His eyes narrowed, “And don’t think you are entitled to a tail either. I’ll be watching you like hawk to ensure you remain obedient and well behaved right up to the ceremony.”
“Sir? You mean … I mean …well, you … I …”
The Trainer sighed. “Do you want to spend the next hour gagged?”
Thomas shook his head, feeling his hair tickle his cheeks and the plume attached to his head swish about.
If you feel that was awful, then understand Thomas’ trepidation over the next hour or so of training. He was so anxious to demonstrate his submission and skills that at times he messed up instructions because of nerves. And it wasn’t helped to see the Pony Girls with their beautiful tails wandering past him. He felt naked and dowdy next to sexually alluring experienced pony girls.
At any moment he was expecting the Trainer to say that he wasn’t good enough to enter the ceremony. That they would have to start again. That he would remain tailless until the next day.
His first trial of pulling a cart was sufficiently straightforward as he just had to stand between the two bars of the cart and bend his arms so that he could be strapped to the smooth wood.
There was a moment of sheer panic as the Trainer wrapped the full head harness with the array of bells, about Thomas’ face and the bullying bit pushed between his lips.
When the bridle was locked behind his head, Thomas felt the sheer terror of helplessness.
Strapped to a cart so he couldn’t move his hands. Unable to speak to say if he was in distress. Dressed to attract sexual attention of any dominant.
The Trainer picked up the reins and gave a tug. It was exactly the same process and result as the leash to his collar being tugged, He quickly found himself waling forward behind the Trainer, who walked slowly, constantly visually checking that Thomas was okey.
“Keep that fat arse wiggling, pony girl.”
Thomas said ‘Yes, Sir’ through the gag but it came out as incoherent mumbling. That made him giggle, and for the first time since his tail had been so unfairly snatched from him, he felt relaxed. As of course all subs do once reconciled to their true position in life.
The impatient trainer shook his head as dominants often do at silly submissive pony girls.
The reins were tugged to the right and Thomas felt himself being walking in a curved line behind the Trainer. Then the reins were tugged hard to the left, and the Trainer walked around in the opposite direction. Thomas followed, nibbling on the bit in his mouth.
The bells jingled merrily. And he would have felt proud, but he couldn’t bring himself into eye contact with the other properly tailed pony girls. His tummy still turned over at how drab he looked without the full plumage of the grey, white genuine tail.
Suddenly the Trainer tugged downwards and Thomas stopped in his high heeled tracks.
Oh. How thrilling to hear those words. Thomas’ face beamed from behind the neat straps and bells that adorned his face.
The Trainer stepped up close, removed the bit and fed Thomas a piece of apple. Thomas chewed it eagerly awaiting the Trainer’s full verdict.
Smiling, the Trainer said, “You’re a real natural. No wonder you have the mistresses around here so interested in getting into your panties.”
Thomas giggled. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Yeh, a natural dumb slut.”
Feeling proud, Thomas giggled again.
“Tomorrow, we do the same. This time with me sitting in the cart. Don’t look so worried, dumb arse. Once the cart starts moving the girls find it easy. Even someone as puny as you can pull a cart with two people in it.”
Pull two people? Surely that would be impossible!
“Remember to keep that tail wagging when walking. The dominants love that.”
Suddenly the Trainer looked thoughtful.
“Pay attention birdbrain. And listen carefully.”
Thomas leaned his head closer, hearing the mellow bells tinkle, anxious to heed the words of advice.
“Tonight, you just gotta do what you’re told. You’ll be told what to say. You’ll be told what to do.”
Thomas felt a thrill running through his tummy. So tonight was still happening! He was going to be tailed tonight!
“You don’t say anything else. Got it?”
“Yes Sir. Yes. Oh, my. It’s so exciting.”
“I’ll take you on the stage and you follow the leash, like you’ve been taught. Got it?”
“And don’t fuck up! Because that’ll make me look bad.”
In a single action the Trainer took hold of the reins directly under Thomas’s chin and snapped the trainee girl’s head up.
“Don’t let me down. Got it! I am serious!”
Pulling helplessly on the leather straps securing him to the cart’s bars, Thomas was wide eyed in wanting the Trainer to appreciate that he understood.
“Please Sir. I’ll try really hard. Extra special hard.”
It was at that moment that Thomas realised he was speaking like a young child to an overbearing fearsome adult. What was happening to him?
Just then a pony girl passed him with a smile and knowing wink. Oh, God she was so hot, in her tight corset, tights and thigh high boots. Moreover, that plume really decorated her blonde hair, no doubt drawing to her all the attention of the dominants.
As she jiggled by Thomas saw her tail waggling in her curvy hose covered buttocks and felt that familiar pang of jealousy and stab of injustice.
Oh? What had he been thinking about before she passed him by? It didn’t matter. Nothing seemed to matter other than getting his tail back into his backside and impressing his Mistress. He had arrived with a wife reluctant to engage in any sex beyond the missionary and somehow, Izabella had become this erotic dominant woman who ruled his life.
He sighed at the delightful thought of being owned by Izabella his wife.
The Trainer barked, “What you smiling at sissy? Jesus. You dumb air heads are on another planet!”
Thomas giggled again, “Yes, Sir.”
Shaking his head at the silly pony girl, the Trainer said, “Okay, I’ll take you back to the wall and then send you to eat something. When you come out of the café you’ll be taken straight to the ceremony.” Suddenly he became serious, adopting the expression that always that made Thomas fearful about having his bottom caned. “To my mind, earning a tail in a day is crazy. You won’t appreciate it. If we went through the full two day course, then by tomorrow, you’d be begging and crying for your tail.”
“Oh Sir. I am so grateful to you for your training. Really Sir. I don’t think I’d have made it without you.”
The Trainer glanced back through the open doors to the fields with the pony girls performing and said quietly, “No. You’re not the sharpest tool in the wood shed.” He glanced Thomas up and down, from Thomas’ heeled boots to his plume. “But you sure are cute as hell. The dominants around here love a dumb arsed, cute sissy. You’ll be very popular.”
“Oh, thank you, Sir.” It was so rare to get a compliment from the Trainer that Thomas felt a little overwhelmed. Suddenly he gasped with terror. “Sir. Does that mean those two horrible bullies Miss Olive and Miss Khaki will be able to,” he swallowed hard, “play with me?”
The Trainer had enough of his chat with the vacuous pony girl. He pressed the bit into the pony girl’s mouth, took hold of the end of the reins and led Thomas back to the wall of the inner stables where they had started Thomas’ training.
“Girl, that’ll be up to your Mistress,” he called back. “She gets to decide who plays with you.”
The Trainer looked back over his shoulder and once again took in Thomas’ body from his heels to his shivering plume.
“Yes,” he said thoughtfully, as if to himself. “I’ll have to have a word with your owner.”
Thomas nodded, and gave a muffled, ‘yes Sir’, through his bit.
Have a word about what? He wondered.
There again, sissies do a lot of wondering. The world is so damned complicated at times, not surprising they feel relaxed when in the hands of powerful dominants.
The dreadful string tail tickled the back of his legs as yet another reminder that he needed to ensure he was on his best behaviour for the next few hours so he could win his tail.
But can a dumb, sissy pony girl achieve that with so many distractions around?
2 thoughts on “Pony Trap Chapter 12 by Deborah Ford”
Thank you, Deborah, for the brief scene of Thomas/Lacy being trained hitched to a cart. I hope for more pony cart train ing after ‘her’ tailing ceremony.
So pony girls can easily pull a cart with two people sitting in it! But what will Lacy’s feelings be as she pulls her Mistress, Miss Indigo (ex-wife Izabella), with her lover, The Master, seated alongside her?
As ever, you are predicting the next episode. Though oddly, my brain is spending more time composing a later scene, post The Manor. Need to concentrate! Everything in the right order! Deborah Ford