Chapter 8 

 

 

 

 

Life protects us when faced with overwhelming fear and horror. The brain says: this isn’t happening, allowing the victim an opportunity to deal with life by blanking out the awful parts.

Shrinks unkindly call it denial.

So Thomas was overwhelmed with a sense of being trapped in a nightmare. He wasn’t really dressed as a pony girl, with an absurdly small chastity device, black tights, knee length high heeled boots and a crushing corset. Nor was there an indigo coloured plume strapped to his head by a horse’s bridle that had bells to gently sing when he moved.

He could also dismiss the taut, leather leash running from his electronic collar to an impatient trainer who whipped him with a cane whenever his performance was unsatisfactory.

All part of a terrifying dream.

Moreover, now that he enveloped himself in the idea of a nightmare, he could ignore the ignominy of his cheerful, blonde wife heading towards him wearing her Mistress uniform of light coloured jodhpurs, knee high boots, trim white blouse and the ludicrous top hat.  He could therefore disregard the humbling sight of his wife being on the end of a leash, held by the scary Master who ran the Manor, to whom everyone appeared to be in awe.

“Lacy!” Izabella squealed as she got closer.

Aargh. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was actually happening right before him.

The Master laughed and tugged her back on the leash. “Heel, girl. Heel!”

How dare the horrible man say that to his wife!

Izabella giggled and slowed until she was walking alongside The Master.

“Lacy, you look fantastic,” she enthused as she stopped before her wonderfully attired husband.

Thomas could not recall when she had been so enthusiastically happy.

“Thank you,” he said, before an inquiring look from his trainer ensured he added, “Mistress.”

His wife took hold of his bare arms and looked him up and down. “Wow. I’ve never seen you with make up before.” She narrowed her eyes taking it in, “But it works!”

“Erm, thank you Mistress.” Thomas cleared his throat, “Have you mentioned to the Master about the mistake. You know, that I should be …”

Laughing, she pressed a finger to his nose.

“Oh now don’t spoil it all by talking out of turn. Silly pony girl.”

Izabella turned to the dark man standing beside her.

“Oh Master, please may I play with my pony girl? See if she performs?”

The Master shrugged and released the leash from her collar.

“Go easy on her. She’s not really been broken in yet,” he said, as if Thomas wasn’t within earshot.

As his wife took her husband’s own leash from his tetchy trainer, Thomas noticed the words on her collar had not changed: Mistress Indigo, owned by the Master.

God, Thomas thought, she would hate that. She hated being dominated when they played at home, far preferring to be the dominant, controlling one in their games.

She coiled the leash about her hand a few times and closed her eyes as if summoning courage. As she opened them, she tugged down on the leash.

Thomas felt his head yanked towards his feet and immediately collapsed to his knees before his wife.

“Oh my God!” Izabella shouted. She turned to the Master, “Master, it works! Just like you showed me.”

From his viewpoint of being on his knees, he could hear high heels passing at a trot behind him, as life continued in the stable areas of The Manor. But for now his concentration was fixed wholly on the leash holder: his wife!

She tugged upwards and he rose smartly to his heels.

Izabella’s eyes were wide with wonder.

“It’s so hot!”

Twice more she took her pony down to his knees and then back up to his heels, each time grinning like a child at Christmas.

She pulled back her shoulders, as if to steady herself.

“Ok, Lacy. Let us see you marching on the spot. And,” she narrowed her eyes with purpose, “keep those knees up!”

As he had practiced earlier, Thomas trotted with knees rising up to being parallel with the ground.

The trainer said, “Hands girl!”

Oh! Thomas immediately pulled the back of his hands as close to his shoulders as he could. He was determined to keep them there so that the trainer wouldn’t slash the back of his thighs in front of his own wife.

Izabella’s tongue spat out between her own smiling pink lips as she walked forwards, head high, giving the leash a sharp tug.

As drilled, Thomas marched behind her, his knees rising up to his belly button with each step.

A gobsmacked Izabella kept looking back at her pony with wonderment. This was her pony! Her toy! All hers!

“Right, just walking now!” She walked towards Thomas and then passed him again yanking on the leash to drag him in the opposite direction.

Thomas followed obediently looking away from the grinning men watching him being put through his pony paces by his own wife.

Izabella stopped dead, Thomas immediately did so too, keeping the required two paces behind.

Izabella looked to her Master, brimming with excitement. “Master. That is brilliant. Shall I reward my pony with a treat?”

The Master laughed, “Lacy is your pony. You decide.”

Giggling, Izabella stepped up to Thomas and gave him a light hug with a kiss on the cheek, the way girls greet each other.

“Here,” she said, taking a piece of apple from a bag in her pocket and popping it into Thomas’ mouth.

As Thomas chewed mindlessly on his piece of apple, he was wondering how to remind his wife to point out the awful error. It should be him as the dominant and her in this sexy pony girl outfit on the end of his leash.

She smiled softly, and once again kissed him on the nose.

“You’re so fucking cute! That getup, the boots, the corset! All of it. You look stunning.”

When before had his wife been this excited?

Thomas’ trainer said, “What do you say pony?”

Thomas swallowed the last part of his apple and said, “Yes Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.”

Izabella pouted and twisted around quickly to look at her Master.

“Master, she doesn’t sound like the other ponies!”

Thomas’ trainer interjected, “Don’t worry. Voice lessons will be later today and tomorrow morning.”

Izabella looked back at Lacy with uncertainty. “I don’t think she’ll ever sound as nice as those pony girls I’ve been training with.”

The instructor smiled warmly. “Don’t worry. That’s our department. She’s only just begun her lessons.”

She nodded thoughtfully, perhaps still not believing that her pony will sound like the other ponies after only a few lessons.

Finally, she said, “Ok,” as if accepting the promise.

She removed the leash from Thomas’ neck, but rather than Thomas feeling free he suddenly felt lost. What should he do. Was he allowed to walk away? Or move at all?

Thomas was learning the emptiness a pony feels when unleashed or released, even temporarily by its owner. It is far easier being under the command of a dominant as the pony always knows what it should be doing.

“Pony!” Izabella announced loudly. “Walk away from me and then come back.”

What? Thomas was bewildered, why should he do that?

“Yes Mistress.”

He walked away wanting to glance back over his shoulder to ensure he was complying properly. What if he had misheard the instruction?

After a moment, he turned on his heeled boots and marched back, his eyes fixed on his Mistress to ensure he was fulfilling her instructions as she wanted.

“Stop!”

Thomas stopped in his tracks on his wife’s command and worry filled his senses. He could tell she was unsatisfied with his performance. Would he be punished?

“Master,” she said, like a little girl who has not received a birthday present, “Her tail doesn’t wag like the pony girls I trained with this morning.”

The Master was sympathetic. “Again, it is all part of the training. Ponies are not known for their ability to learn quickly. That’s why we needed your permission for Lacy’s trainer to beat her when appropriate.”

The trainer added, “Walking is what we were working on when you called me. Also, after the ceremony, when she has a real tail, a wiggle will be part of her movements. It will be second nature to her.”

The Master laughed, “Wait till you have a barbecue at home. Get his friends around. Even without the pony rig on, or even the maid’s outfit, when your boy will be wiggling around always eager to serve your guests. Honestly. You’ll love it. It is hilarious.”

Thomas bristled so much his bells gently rang. If that idiot thought he would be used as entertainment at a party in his home, then the Master was dumber than Thomas had thought him!

Yet … and yet … between his legs, his little dick twitched in its cage making him feel damp and uncomfortable between the legs. There was something mind numbingly hot about being humiliated like that. In front of people he knew. Being under the control of others.

Fantasy should always stay fantasy, he decided. What was being proposed was so scary that Thomas knew it was only being said to frighten him.

Again, his mind sought refuge in thoughts that mitigated the events about him. It still could be a dream.

“Miss Indigo.”

Thomas and Izabella turned to see a ravishing woman with dark hair under her short top hat, tugging along a delightfully sexy, very tall pony girl. Even with out her heeled boots, Thomas felt she would rise to well over six foot.

The attractive pony was blonde and wore a plume of fiery red as she was guided closer by the leash to her mistress. Thomas could read the words on the girl’s screen embedded in her collar: Honey, owned by Miss Ruby.

The dark haired mistress, Miss Ruby, embraced Izabella and they French kissed each other’s cheeks.

Miss Ruby said, “I got The Master’s call and came as soon as I could.”

Izabella blushed slightly. “Aw. So grateful. My pony is like so new!”

Miss Ruby ogled Thomas from heels to his indigo plume, making him feel self-conscious.

“Well now,” Miss Ruby said, “Isn’t she adorable!”

Izabella giggled. “You’ll have to get in line, Miss Olive and Miss Khaki have put down their names to play with her once she has won her tail.”

Thomas felt himself spurt in his chastity cage. He wasn’t going to get that damned tail, he would make sure of that, but was excited at the thought.

The Master said, “That’s what we want your Honey to do. Tell Lacy all about the tail when a girl is naughty.”

Everyone seemed to find that hysterically funny, save for the bewildered Thomas. Honey, the tall pony, simply smiled blankly ahead.

Izabella approached Thomas and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

“Miss Ruby here has kindly allowed her pony to have a sorta welcoming chat with you.”

“Erm, Mistress, I …”

“Hush now,” Izabella said. “Honey is just like you. A silly, air head sissy.”

A sissy!

Thomas took in the girl’s curves and demeanour. She looked just like a genuine pony girl.

Izabella continued, “And she wants to share with you a little adventure she had.” She smiled at the pony called Honey, “Don’t you girl?”

Honey’s needy smile never wavered, “Yes Miss.”

Thomas wanted to protest but the sight of his trainer with the cane withered away any attempt to speak out of turn.

The Master re-leashed Izabella who smiled adoringly at him as she heard the link clunk home.

The Master said, “So Honey, be a good girl and take Lacy here for a light bite to eat in the pony’s canteen. Tell her all about your, er, adventure.”

“Yes Master,” Honey smiled.

Honey approached Thomas to tower over him, even though there were only a few inches difference. Perhaps it was the confidence of Honey’s confident deportment, but somehow Thomas felt in awe of the more experienced pony girl – who, he had just learnt, was actually a guy like him!

“Well, come on then,” Honey said impatiently.

Everyone laughed and Thomas winced at being dominated by a mere pony girl.

Thomas was struck by the fact that her voice so was so feminine. No one would know she wasn’t a girl.

Honey set off with an enchanting wiggle that was so pronounced her tail flicked back and fore as she walked.

Thomas quickly set off behind her, as he heard the trainer call out to him: “One foot before the other, Lacy. Make sure your hips wiggle!”

“Yes Sir,” Thomas called back, trying to comply with the instruction but finding his gait to be too awkward for words.

Again, laughter from the two men and the two mistresses.

Suddenly Thomas was intrigued. What was this ‘adventure’ that the Master mentioned? Now he was desperate to get to the pony canteen and listen to this gorgeous pony’s story.

 

Chapter 7

 

It may be a humbling shock to be attired as a pony girl and to be dragged through the inner stables on the end of a leash by man. It may worsen for Thomas as he sees himself approaching the open door at the rear of the stables, leading out on to the sweep of fields.

Yet worse was to come.

At that moment, only a few thoughts went through the mind of the sissy pony girl: one, that he did not want to be taken outside dressed in this corset, tights, high heeled boots and humiliating plume above his head. Two, that the dolt who was pulling him on the lead had set off at an easy pace for a man in flat shoes but made Thomas dash quickly with short steps because of the height of his heels. He needed to stop the man and explain to him that it was all an error, that really his wife was to be the pony girl here and he the master.

But the Mediterranean looking guy had warned Thomas to ‘keep his dumb mouth shut until spoken to’. Such rudeness was inevitable from the same person who had whipped his thighs earlier for some imaged misdemeanour.

Tawney, the dumb blonde pony, also on her first day, had been led away in the opposite direction leaving Thomas feeling alone, vulnerable and exposed. Obviously, Tawny was too much of a tramp and too stupid to engage in conversation but she was also on her first day, thus Thomas felt more comfortable with her around. Like having a friend on your first day of school. His last sight of Tawney was of her giving him a finger wiggling, girly wave as she wiggled sexily away.

And God she was sexy! Thomas’ dick was constantly aroused in its too tight, cruel chastity device.

Thankfully they stopped near the entrance to the fields, around which pony girls were led either in carts or alone by dominants.

At last Thomas could explain the error and get free to escape this despicable hell hole.

“Right,” the dark skinned man said, as if already impatient with Thomas, “You keep your mouth shut unless you are spoken to. You don’t move until you are told to do so. You don’t stop moving until ordered to do so. Got it?”

Thomas relaxed, “Yes, thank you. Now then, as I was trying to tell you earlier, only you wouldn’t listen …”

Thomas stopped speaking as the trainer’s dark eyes burnt into Thomas’s soul. Thomas stood, perched up on his heels, with his mouth hanging open feeling intimidated by the lout.

“You address me and all other male dominants as Sir. The only exceptions are guys who are your master’s and the Master of the Manor himself. Got that?”

“Well, yes, but I …”

The trainer leaned forward, offering his ear to Thomas.

“Oh yes!” Thomas suddenly realised what he was meant to add, “Sir. Yes, sir.” He giggled. “Like in the army. That’s what soldiers say …”

Abruptly, the trainer was speaking over him again, which Thomas found despicably discourteous, and would say so once the blunders had been cleared up.

“Dominant women are addressed as Miss at all times. The only exceptions are your Mistress, Mistress Indigo, and anyone she appoints as your Mistress.”

“Oh!” Thomas was shocked. “You mean she can have someone else be my mistress too?” He pursed his pink lipsticked lips together in thought. “I don’t think I like that. I mean …”

“Turn around so you are side on to me, Lacy.”

A little surprised at being addressed as Lacy, his pony name, Thomas stepped around slowly to comply.

The trainer took up the slack in the leash so it was taut between him and Thomas before flicking the cane at the pony’s buttocks.

“Oww!”

Thomas swallowed and looked at the rude man, wondering if he was going to be beaten again.

“Cute arse, tramp,” the trainer said, almost to himself.

“Well, thank you,” Thomas said, “But I don’t think you should call me that horrible name. Tramps are …”

Two slices with the cane to his buttocks followed. Really painful stinging ones.

“Ouch!” Thomas gave the trainer the eye. “I am not sure that was really necessary!”

Two more cuts.

“Ouch! Stop. Please!”

“Back in place girl, and do not move from that position I put you in!”

Not wishing to receive any further punishment Thomas did so, sighing to display his irritation.

“Your first test, girl. So pay attention.”

Oh God. Thomas hated tests.

“Sir,” Thomas said, remembering to address the trainer in an appropriate manner, “I’m not very good at …”

Two more swift slaps, yet again to his increasingly sore buttocks.

Any wrong answers or undue hesitation and you get six slaps of the cane.”

Oh no! His backside was already stinging!

“Question one. How do you address a dominant male?”

The cane tapped at his buttocks making poor Thomas’ mind freeze solid. “Oh, Sir. Always Sir!” Then he thought longer. “But sometimes Master, when they are Masters.”

He glanced nervously at the trainer.

“Good girl, clever girl.”

“Oh, thank you!”

He liked being called good and clever, and if the foolish man had to use the word ‘girl’ then fine.

Two rapid slices to his buttocks had Thomas squealing.

“Oh, thank you?” The trainer asked as if Thomas was a child.

“Oh yes! Sir. I meant, thank you Sir!”

The trainer nodded but didn’t call him good or clever, which felt slightly depressing.

“How do you address dominant women?”

This was easy! “Sir, I call them Miss or Mistress.”

He took in the trainer hoping to be correct for the second time running.

The trainer nodded and said, “Good girl, clever girl.”

Thomas felt proud of himself. If only Izabella was here witnessing him being called good and clever. He always wanted to impress and please her.

“If you forget any of that, then I will deal with you,” the trainer said darkly.

“Yes, Sir, of course. Erm, may I say something now? It really is important …”

Whack- whack.

Thomas squealed, thinking the trainer could have just said something rather than beating him!

“Face me, Lacy.”

Turning to face the trainer forced Thomas to look straight into the eyes of the man who was holding him on a leash and beating him for no good reason at all. Thomas quickly lowered his eyes.

“Now, girl, have you ever been trained to walk on a leash?”

“Duh! No!” Thomas said, as if it was obvious, before smartly adding a “Sir.”

The man nodded as if expecting that answer.

“Even the dumbest of tramps soon learn how to be walked and you’ll carry these lessons forever. A dominant will quickly correct you if you get sloppy.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Thomas said, again adding, “Sir. But I think isn’t it all too obvious how to walk on a leash. I mean, even dogs can do it.”

The man sighed, “You might be the dumbest tramp we have enrolled here. Puppies learn about being on a leash at puppy training school or with time spent with their owners.”

“Oh!” Thomas felt on the back foot. “I hadn’t thought of that, Sir.”

“So pay attention, something you clearly have a problem with.”

Thomas giggled at the put down.

 “You should always be two steps behind the dominant and one step either side. Clear?”

That seemed straight forward.

“Don’t ever dawdle. You’ll get pulled over and then your dominant will be angry with you.”

“Ok, Sir.”

“If you see you are approaching a corner be prepared to wheel around so that the leash doesn’t get caught on the corner of the wall. It sounds complicated but once you’ve walked into a wall once then you’ll never do it again.”

Thomas giggled, “I’m not that dumb Sir.”

The trainer didn’t appear too impressed. “Dominants like watching pony girls and maids walk ahead of them too. Your arses swinging away and under the command of a dominant is a thrilling sight to a dominant.”

Thomas blushed. Wow. What a thought that just by walking in front of a dominant he could arouse them.

“Ok. I’ll run through the leash instructions,” the instructor said matter of factly. “Perform them as ordered.”

Not understanding the question, he was about to ask for an explanation when the trainer sharply pulled the leash sharply.

“A yank towards from your dominant means you should approach them. A flick of the hand with the leash means you should move back two steps away.”

The trainer brought Thomas up embarrassingly close to him. Thomas hated standing this close to another man, his cheeks flushed and he stared away until he was dismissed back the statutory two steps.

“Downward yanks mean you drop to your knees. Never fight it.”

Feeling the pull downwards, Thomas knelt on the dusty surface of the interior of the training area.

“The leash yanked up, like this, pulls you to your feet,”

As he felt the leash lift his chin, so Thomas returned to his heels and awaited the commendation of a good girl or clever girl. There was none, which was a bit discouraging.

“A single tug means that you should follow.”

The trainer turned, jerked the leash before walking close to the wall of the stables, and Thomas briskly followed.

As they walked past a line of empty carts and chariots the trainer raised his hand.

“When you see your dominant lifts their hand, even slightly, then you stop. Immediately.”

Thomas did so, slightly late and almost walked into the trainer. Thomas quickly stepped backwards, resisting a giggle.

“When we lower the hand with the palm outwards, it means stay.”

Thomas nodded, “Yes Sir.”

After they rehearsed the practices a few times, the trainer tugged the leash bringing Thomas up so close to him Thomas could feel the heat from the muscular body of the trainer.

Close up, the trainers’ eyes burnt in an intimidating manner.

“Eventually, your Mistress will be able to take you shopping in the outside world without a leash. You will walk two steps behind and one step aside. You will watch her leash hand for any movement indicating what you should do and how you should perform.”

“Outside? You mean away from here?”

The crop slapped Thomas twice on his thigh.

He shrieked and added, “Sir. Sorry, Sir.”

“Don’t worry about the outside world yet, girl. You have enough to learn while you are here. No girl of mine has ever not won her tail in the first two days. So don’t you be the exception! Got it?”

Thomas felt a little cowed by the man who held his leash, but was forced to point out, “Yes Sir. I am sure that is an excellent record. But you see, I won’t be winning, as you put it, a tail. This is all a colossal mistake and ..”

Yet again two sharp strokes of the cane, this time on the opposite thigh silenced Thomas.

God it was so unfair!

Thomas frowned.

The trainer laughed, and his manner softened. “Fuck! You look so fucking cute when you pout!”

Thomas’ eyes opened wide. “Do I Sir? Aw, thank you.”

He then giggled making himself feel a little foolish but was glad that the trainer smiled warmly at him.

It was then that a mobile rang in the pocket of the trainer. He snatched it out and frowned when he saw the name on the screen. Nevertheless, he answered it while unwinding the leash so he could walk away from the pony.

“Ah Miss Indigo”, he said.

Thomas gasped. Miss Indigo, his wife, Izabella! At last! The mistake was now known, and he would soon be free. Though obviously he would ask to buy this outfit and try it on in his bedroom when Izabella was at work. It was too hot to leave at this place.

The trainer continued, “well, it’s her first lesson. I’m not sure she’s ready yet. These dumb ponies often need a full day just for the basics.”

The trainer stopped talking  and Thomas leaned forward, urgently trying to hear more of the conversation but not daring to move from the spot in which he had been placed.

“Ok, Miss Indigo, if that’s what you want. Then I’ll arrange it for you and your pony. Yes. Good to speak too and see you in a short while.”

The trainer stood in pensive thought for a moment before wandering back winding the leash around his palm as he did so.

“Aw Sir. I’m sorry it’s turned out like this,” Thomas said softly. “I know it must be disappointing for you to have wasted your time training me like this. But I did try to tell you I wasn’t the one meant to be a pony.”

The trainer’s eyes narrowed angrily, “I haven’t a clue what you airheads go on about sometimes. You speak a language only other dumb tramps can understand.” He pulled back his thick shoulders. “Right. Listen up!”

Thomas found himself standing to attention on his high heels.

“Yes Sir.”

“Your owner wants to see you being put through your paces. Fuck!” He looked away at a cart being pulled by two hot pony girls passing the main entrance. He glared back so hard at Thomas that Thomas stepped backwards feeling the leash grow tight and holding him in place.

“Sir, er, didn’t she mention the mistake and how …”

“Your owner will be here in five minutes and expecting a show from you!”

“What? That’s terrible! No, no!”

The trainer shook his head and glowered at the ground for a moment then burst into life.

“Ok, pony. You need to learn one more trick. Quickly! Stand side on to me.”

“But Sir, you must explain to my wife …”

The cane twice dug hard into the back of Thomas’ thighs making him squeal.

“Ok, explain to my owner. Whatever.”

Two more quick slices.

Thomas yowled, adding, “Sir.”

“Now turn side on and start trotting on the sport!”

Feeling the burning up the back of his legs Thomas quickly complied. When the error was realised, this stupid oaf would pay for these horrible beatings.

“Put both hands up to your shoulders, with palms facing away. And keep them there!”

Thomas complied quickly, wishing to avoid further punishment, raising his open hands as close to his shoulders as possible.

“Get your knees up higher, sissy! Your thighs should be parallel with the ground!”

Thomas raised his legs a little higher, as two pony girls strolled past, gossiping. They elbowed each other and giggled at his attempts.

Oh God. How he hated being shouted at with girls all around him to witness his mortification.

If only this sadistic buffoon knew how hard to is to march on the spot in heels!

“Higher girl!”

The cane splatted to the underside of Thomas’ thighs encouraging him to maintain the precise movement with his knees coming up as high as his groin.

The trainer released some of the leash and said, “Now march in a circle around me, keeping those thighs high!”

Thomas set off on his humiliating passage of trotting around the shouting trainer.

“Back straight, bitch! Don’t let me tell you again!”

Thomas straightened his back, listening to the gentle jingling of the bells around his head.

“Chin up! Chin up!”

This was intolerable but he complied quickly.

Thomas had already completed one circuit of the fierce trainer with the threat of the cane on the underside of his rising thighs when the trainer said, “Trot quicker!”

Thomas quickened his pace.

It was only at that moment that Thomas realised he was mimicking the movements he had seen from some of the other pony girls when they trotted past. They looked so sexy with their heads held high, as if proud of their sexuality, their thighs exposed above their high heeled boots, as they trooped before the amused and aroused dominants. Others trotted past with smaller steps, as if not so much on display.

“Stop!”

Thomas came to an abrupt halt. He felt a tug on the leash, and he reluctantly approached the trainer as commanded by the leash movements.

“Ok. You did all right.” The trainer dug in his pocket and pulled out a piece of apple from a polyethene  bag there. He fed it to the shocked Thomas, who nevertheless accepted and ate it.

Not sure whether or not he should lower his hands from his shoulders, Thomas remained bolt upright as the trainer fed him another piece of apple.

“Practice will help girl,” the trainer said thoughtfully, as he pressed a third piece into the pony’s mouth. “We need to work on your wiggle. Just keep your shoulders straight and still, and let your feet move one in front of each other as you walk. The wiggle will come naturally. When you win your tail, it will flick back and fore as you walk.”

“Yes Sir,” Thomas said, swallowing the last piece of apple. “But Sir, erm,” Thomas glanced away from the intimidating, fiery dark eyes of the trainer, “Sir, it will be too humiliating for my owner to see me like this. I mean parading around at your commands.”

Suddenly there were tears dampening his eyes. Using telepathy, Thomas pleaded for mercy from the trainer.

“Lacy, babe,” the trainer cupped  hand under the distressed pony’s chin. “I want you to be a brave, sissy pony for me.”

“But Sir, if she sees me prancing about like this …”

Thomas started to blub.

“It’s worse, babes, and I really feel for you. The Master will be coming with her. And I am telling you this now. He will want you to fail so he can punish you before your owner and then make her want to fuck him even more!”

Fuck him? As if Izabella would do that! But a bitter ache grew in Thomas’s tummy, before floating up through his gullet to his mouth. Suddenly he was terrified. The situation was totally out of his control. He was a helpless performing pony girl at the mercy of whoever gave him a command.

Here he was, helpless, being trained as a pony girl with a brutal, rude trainer, who could sometimes be soooo sweet to him, and his wife was about to come down and witness his humiliation.

“Sir, I don’t feel well.”

“Too late babes,” the trainer said sympathetically, “Look they are coming.”

A shocked Thomas turned to see the woman who was once his wife, and now his owner, coming gleefully towards him on the end of the leash hauled by the terrifying man known only as The Master.

This couldn’t be happening!

 

 

Pony Trap

Chapter Six

by Deborah Ford

 

Thomas planned to explain to Poppy, the dumb male maid, how that been a massive mistake at the Manor. How Thomas wasn’t here to be trained as a pony girl. This was beset by a single but insurmountable problem.

Poppy didn’t remove the bit from Thomas’ mouth until she had fussed about him, removing some of the bells from the face harness that were fixed on a band of Velcro, and securing a tail on a belt around his waist with a tight belt.

So now, every time Thomas moved he felt the tickling of the long haired tail below his corset, over his buttocks and on his thighs above his thigh length boots.

There was an infuriating quality about wearing a collar, chastity cage and outfit he could not remove. Every step reminded him of his position at the manor: a mere pony girl.

Perched upright on the tall heels, his waist crushed by the leather corset, Thomas nibbled on the leather bit in frustration, though thankfully the jangling bells had lessened.

“Just sit down in front of the mirror, Lacy,” Poppy said while taking a small leather bag from the white box.

Thomas had already realised that in this pony girl outfit he felt crazily more submissive and obedient, so quickly complied with the instruction, albeit in a deliberately slow manner, as if pretending the idea to sit was his and his alone.

“Poppy, you need to release me, and do it quickly. I have to leave this madhouse. And then the so called Master will be hearing from me with a very harshly, written letter of complaint.”

Poppy used her fingers under Thomas’ chin to tilt back his head before applying eyeliner to the shocked pony girl.

“What are you doing?”

Poppy shook her head and did that irritated sigh of hers, as if it were Thomas who was dumb and she the cleverest maid in the world.

“Your owner wants you to have light make up.” Poppy held up the eyeliner brush, raised her eyebrows and said in her most superior voice, “Perhaps I should give your owner, Miss Indigo, a call? Tell her you want to disobey her.”

Swallowing, Thomas felt he didn’t want his wife to be angry with him right now. She held so much power with the locked collar and chastity device that he felt it wise to comply – until the major error could be rectified and it was his wife sitting in this chair in a pony girl outfit and he holding the pony whip.

“Well, okay then. Go ahead,” Thomas said as if it were he issuing the instructions.

Poppy shook her head, and then spent the next ten minutes creating a sexy dark eyed look. She added some blusher to his cheeks and pink lipstick to his lips.

Thomas watched his reflection change from a soft featured guy to a look of feminine attraction.

Poppy smiled, “Not bad, is it?”

Not wishing to reveal how hot he found the look, Thomas simply said, “It looks all right. If that’s what Izabella wants, then fine.”

“I think,” Poppy said, her eyes staring hard at the pony girl sat before her, “That one little pony is going to spend a lot of time over a dominant’s lap if she isn’t careful.”

“Maybe you’ll be the one getting spanked when they realise their mistake.” Thomas sneered, “Then I’ll be back in my man’s clothes, and, hey, you never know, you’ll be over my lap.”

Poppy didn’t appear to find the argument particularly powerful, dismissing his thoughts with a shake of the head.

The maid sashayed to the entrance to their room with her bottom wiggling delightfully. Thomas would love to pat her arse. He had to clarify his thoughts. Pat HIS arse. Again, he felt his dick try to expand in the tiny chastity device and again he felt the erotic frustration of it being held fast in place by the electronically sealed cage.

Poppy opened the door onto the main thoroughfare of the stables and Thomas was struck by how busy it had become. The rumble of wheels and the clip clops of heeled feet marching on the dirt mixed with shouts from the dominants and squeals from the girls and canes whipped through the air onto luscious bottoms.

Bustling with activity, as sexy pony girls pranced back and fore along with those scary dominant males and alluring dominant women in their regimental uniforms of jodhpurs, white blouses and knee high boots.

Now aware of his own tickling tail whenever he moved, Thomas noted that some of the more confident pony girls appeared to have the tail attached to their bodies! There was no belt or harness holding them in place. Also, the girls tinkled by with a variety of bells, though none as populous as the ones he wore when being dressed.

Desperate not to be seen in his new, humiliating finery, Thomas was aghast when Poppy waved her hand impatiently for him to follow.

He shook his head.

“Poppy, I am not going anywhere until you give me the keys to unlock and remove the boots, collar and this crazy device between my legs.”

He was now aware of the chastity cage every time he moved.

The male maid sighed, nodded her pretty head to one side and asked, “Shall I phone your owner?”

For a moment Thomas froze, the way a child might before obeying an instruction in order to pretend they had some level of agency. Then he wiggled out of his stall in his heeled boots. It was so awkward walking in the heels!  Somehow the corset made him stand straight and point his small boobs forward.

They were now standing next to the crackling activity of the thoroughfare.

“Now we wait here,” Poppy said, “And please don’t be bratty. As then we’ll both be punished and some of the Doms around here can be pretty mean!”

So they waited as a variety of the most exquisite girls passed by as either pony girls or sexy maids like Poppy. Gathered around them were the intimidating male and female Doms that Poppy warned him about.

Suddenly appeared a sight so erotic that Thomas’ penis sought to erect itself immediately the moment he saw her.

With a flush of blonde curly hair below her blue plume, her collar showed the name Tawny, owned by Sir Navy. Her boobs bulged around the top of the corset as if they were being constantly inflated, and her tiny waist and rolling hips completed the drop-dead gorgeous image. Her thighs were chubbily sexy in her black tights and she too wore the tail attached to the belt as opposed to the fixed tail the other girls wore.

Tawny didn’t have a bit between her pouting pink lips, just the harness like Thomas’ holding the plume in place.

She spoke quickly with great energy as she took in Poppy’s collar screen.

“Oh my God. You are Poppy. Right where they said you’d be, next to Stall 42.”

Thomas noted the number 42 fixed near the door of his own stall.

Poppy giggled at Tawny, “Oh my, aren’t you a picture!”

Tawny chuckled back saying, “Oh my God. I know. Look!”

She twisted around so that Poppy and Thomas had a great look at her sensual body. Her arse was amazingly rounded. Thomas felt precum pump into his chastity cage making him feel damp and uncomfortable.

Tawny continued, “I can’t wait to win my tail”

Poppy laughed, “If you work hard, I’m sure you’ll have your tail by tomorrow.”

Have her tail by tomorrow? Thomas had enough of these airheads and emitted a long sigh of disapproval.

Tawny said, “Aw, your pony isn’t happy?”

“Now, Poppy,” Thomas announced, feeling ridiculous trying to be dominant in his present garb. “I told you before. This is a complete mistake. My wife was supposed to be the pony girl, and me the Dom.”

Poppy offered her usual impatient sigh. “So you said, like a zillion times before.”

“Your wife?” Tawny looked at Thomas with astonishment. “You’re a lesbian couple?”

Poppy guffawed.

Thomas closed his eyes. He shouldn’t feel insulted, Tawny was clearly as brainless as Poppy.

“Look,” he explained slowly. “I’m a guy. And my wife …”

Tawny put her hand to her mouth. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry! You’re a female to male trans person!”

“No!” Thomas said.

Again Poppy laughed, before explaining softly to Tawny, “She’s been like this since she got here.”

Tawny looked sad in such a cute helpless way that Thomas’s chastity cage became even damper. Ye Gods he wanted to fuck her brains out.

Breathing in and then out so that her boobs inflated like a pair of weather balloons, Tawny said, “Oh dear. Now I’m confused.”

Poppy said, “Lacy is a sissy whose wife is studying to be a Dom.”

“Oh,” tawny said. “Wow, you’re not really a girl? With those features and hair?”

“I know. Amazing.” Poppy nodded, “She’ll make a great pony girl and maid.”

“No!” Thomas was beside himself with anger. “No. Not me. I’m dominant!”

Poppy and Tawny burst into laughter and Thomas knew there was no point in explaining anything to these dunderheads.

“What’s all this noise?”

Tawny and Poppy shuffled back cowering.

As soon as Thomas saw him he joined them in a protective huddle.

He was just over six foot, but one of those guys with square shoulders and barrel chest that bellowed out through his white shirt. He wore jeans and boots, the lower parts covered in dirt.

He stood before the three girls tapping a cane against his thigh. He was dark skinned, maybe Mediterranean or North African, Thomas thought.

What he knew was that the man’s dark eyes were shinning at the three of them, and the shinning eyes were a bit scary.

“How can the pony girls concentrate on their lessons with you three girls gossiping like drunken sluts outside a nightclub.”

For a moment the girls were quiet, and then Thomas said, “Actually I’m not a girl. You see there has been an almighty mix up …”

Thomas noticed that Poppy and Tawney had actually stepped back behind him. He also noticed that this belligerent and frightening oaf’s eyebrows had risen up under his close cropped black curly hair.

“I see we have a little chatter box here.” He glanced at her collar screen. “Lacy eh? Owned by Miss Indigo. Does she know you are shooting your mouth off to dominants?”

Thomas felt his mouth go dry. It was like when the bullies hit upon you after school. “W-w-w well, erm, no. I’m sorry, I just …”

“And still she rabbits!” The irate man said. “Turn around. Face towards the stalls.”

Thomas turned so fast, his obedience surprised himself. Now he was looking away from this awful bully and feeling exposed with his buttocks encased in tight leather and his thighs in display.

“I’m really sorry, it is only that …”

The cane whipped through the air and slapped hard against the backs of his thighs, three times in quick succession.

He squealed and pranced about in his heels following each stinging blow.

“Turn back!” The man ordered.

When Thomas did return to facing the dreadful man, he saw some of the pony girls had stopped to watch the show.

“Anything else to say?” The man demanded.

Thomas was about to reply when he thought it best to merely shake his head.

“Right! You never speak unless a dominant needs to hear from you!” He paused and smiled, “Of course we have better things to do with the mouths of pony girls than letting you speak.”

Swallowing Thomas simply looked down at the dirt track feeling the three lines swell up on the back of his thighs.

The man looked at the maid’s collar screen.

“Poppy eh?”

Poppy curtsied, “Yes Sir.”

“You’re in charge of these dumb arsed noobs?”

Again a curtsey, “Yes sir. I’m taking them to the pony canteen before their training.”

“Well get to it. And don’t let me catch any of your idling around again!”

“Yes Sir,” Poppy curtsied.

Tawney squeaked a quiet, “Yes Sir.”

Thomas could see the horrible man’s eyes were now fixed on him as if expecting a response, so he bowed his head and said, “Yes Sir.”

With that a nervous Poppy said, “Follow me ponies. You have some refreshment before your training starts.”

They moved away briskly in their heels, the wiggling Poppy leading them.

When they were safely away from the intimidating man, Thomas asked quietly, “What did he mean, he has other uses for our mouths?”

He noticed Poppy and Tawney share a despairing look before Poppy said, “Not sure. Perhaps he means to get a bit between your lips.”

Thomas was satisfied with that response but found it odd when Tawney looked away from him and giggled.

A few steps later, Tawny leaned in close to Thomas and said, “I bet you can’t wait for your first lessons. Oh my God, don’t the pony girls look something else! I can’t wait to be like them.”

And Tawny maintained a barrage of such nonsense as they walked down the side of the stalls to the end of the units. Here the space opened up on to a massive area of running tracks, frames and pathways. that disappeared around the back of the stalls. Thomas could see wide open doors onto grassland at the rear where even more pony girls were to be seen.

The stables were massive! Pony girls pranced around a variety of tracks and courses under the watchful eyes of the dominants.

“Oh my God! It’s amazing!” Tawny said.

Without stopping, Poppy giggled. “It’s all amazing. When you are allowed into the Manor, you’ll see sights that will make you pussy run like a river.”

How vulgar Thomas thought, but the dumb arsed Tawny giggled. A complete airhead slut, Thomas thought.

Thomas had noticed that the men with the whips, canes and leashes would take in Tawny as they passed by, which wasn’t surprising. What was surprising, disconcerting even, was that they eyed up Thomas as well, making him feel deeply uneasy. They needed to know he wasn’t a girl.

So he was relieved to enter through a pair of swing doors into the welcome safety of the cafe. It was the size of a dining hall at school, with a serving area at one end, attended by maids. There were various tables, around which sat some pony girls, usually eating fruit or salads. It reminded Thomas of a works canteen.

Around the room there were cupboards and pictures of pony girls, including a few being caned!

“Ok, you two noobs,” Poppy said, “Sit here.”

Already sat at the table were two pony girls, one with a pink plume and the other with a fiery orange plume. The two ‘noobs’ took their places opposite.

Poppy said to the experienced pony girls, “First day for both of them. Neither have their own tails.”

Thomas noticed that the orange plume girl had the name Orchard on her collar screen whilst the pink plumed girl was called Dusty. Dusty’s hair was black and Orchard’s ginger, as if trying to match her plume. Their faces were identically made up, with pink lips and dark eyeshadow.

Thomas felt an ache of humiliation in his tummy as he realised that the three pony girls and Poppy, the male maid, had the same make up as he. He also realised it made his groin feel the buzz of excitement. When he was safely back at home he would try and emulate the make up for himself.

“I’ll grab them later,” Poppy said. “If you want to give them any pointers then do so.” She glanced at Thomas, “Especially to Lacy! If she doesn’t wise up soon, she’s not going to sit down for a week.”

Tawny sat down, in that delicate way women do, while Thomas wanted to assert his independence so sat down very slowly.

A maid brought them a couple of plates of salad, including raw vegetables, and set them before the girl’s with cutlery.

The Orange plumed girl called Orchard said, “They won’t let you have oil with your salads until your weight’s down to what they want.”

“But don’t worry,” Dusty said with a  smile, “You’ll soon do it.”

Tawney giggled, “Well I could do with losing a few pounds!”

Orchard said, “Oh my, you’ll do that with your training here. No problem at all!”

Tawny started on her salad, “have you got your tails?”

Dusty laughed. “Everyone wins their tail. Don’t worry. Even if it takes five days!”

Tawny was shocked. “Five days! Oh no. I want my tail today. So I can show it off to my master.”

Dusty said, “Some girls take a few days to pass the opening exams. We’re all different.” She looked to Thomas studying the name on his collar. “Aw, Lacy, what a pretty name. I bet you can’t wait for your tail too.”

This was just ridiculous!

Thomas raised his eyebrows and spoke slowly for the benefit of the idiots with whom he found himself, “I’ve been trying to explain to everyone, and no one is listening, that this is all a mistake! This should be my wife sitting here in this outfit. I should be in the Manor training to be a dom!”

The two experienced ponies took a sly, eyebrow raised glance at each other and carried on eating.

Thomas set about his salad, there was clearly no point in trying to explain the situation to these dumb bitches!

After a moment in which the four ponies ate in awkward silence, Tawny said, “Those tails. I mean sorry to keep going on, but I can’t wait for mine. Do they hurt? I mean when they plug them in?”

Orchard and Dusty laughed.

Dusty said, “They do it gently at the first ceremony. But you get so used to them that you feel empty when they’ve been pulled out.”

Orchard leaned close to the two noobs, and said quietly, “Like when a big cock pulls out and you need more of it. You know, that empty feeling?”

The girls laughed and Thomas tried to make out he wasn’t with these vulgar sluts.

Tawny said, “Oh I know all about that. My owner has a got a good sized one. Don’t you ache for more when they pull it out?”

Orchard only managed to say “Always …”

… when Thomas interrupted. “Wait. You said ceremony? Tail ceremony?”

“Oh yes,” Dusty said eagerly. “Every time a pony girl wins a tail it’s a big deal. You’re up on stage, and everyone’s there. And you’re bent over. Then your owner inserts your tail. And wow! You’ll cum like a train. It’s so delicious and humiliating and you feel broken and owned, all at the same time.”

Tawny squealed, “Oh my God, I so want that!”

Orchard said, “It feels so final. You know? Like with the collars and the chastity. Only the owners can remove them. You- are –owned!”

“You have chastity devices?” Thomas asked, shocked.

Dusty said, “Of course. We can only play with their pussies,” she emphasised ‘their’ while performing rabbit ear quotes in the air, “when ‘they’ say so.”

Orchard said to Thomas, as if asking the time, “They’ve locked you up haven’t they?”

Blushing, Thomas busied himself with his salad, not wishing to share anything more with these girls. It was so demeaning.

Tawny sucked in a hug mouthful of air, “Oh. Owned. Broken. Theirs! Oh My God! I want that! I’ll work so hard at my lessons! I never want to remove the collar or tail.”

Thomas needed to correct the stupid girls. “I understand that the collar and chastity can’t be removed, but you can take the tail out when you want, surely!”

Dusty appeared confused, “Lacy? They have explained about the tail, haven’t they?”

Seeing Thomas’ puzzled face, Orchard tapped his hand affectionately, “Look I’ll show you.”

She went to a cupboard and returned with a horse’s tail attached to a thin metal butt plug.

Tawny gasped while Thomas knew there was no way that butt plug was going inside him. It was fine for these air head sluts, but he’d hardly want it inside his own anus. Maybe he’d buy one so that he could play with it in his bedroom at home while wanking, and obviously when alone. It would be so humiliating if others knew he played with butt plugs.

“So,” Orchard said, “at the climax of the ceremony, your owner bends you over, inserts some lube, and then pushes this home.”

Tawny laughed, “I’d cum on the spot.”

Dusty laughed, “All pony girls do. And the Doms think it’s hilarious. Calling us sluts and everything. And we’re like, yeh? And? So?”

The three girls giggled while Thomas shook his head.

Tawny said, “I so much want my Master to know that I am his slut!”

Orchard said, “Watch this.”

She flipped away the hair from the base of the tail, revealing a small key pushed into it. She turned it fully clockwise and the butt plug fanned open.

Tawny leaned closer. “Oh my fucking God.”

“Yes,” Orchard grinned, but keep watching.

She continued to turn the key and the inner butt plug carried on expanding outwards like a hand opening up.

“Then your owner removes the key,” she pulled out the key, “and hey, what do you know? We cannot pull the tail out.”

The three girls laughed, while Thomas was horrified. He imagined the humiliation of having the tail stuffed inside him so that he could never remove it yet he pumped out more semen into his cage. Oh for heaven’s sake. That was such a hot bondage idea!

Tawny slapped her hands to her face. “I just want that inside me right now!”

Orchard and Dusty laughed.

“You’ll never forget your first ceremony,” Dusty said.

Orchard added, “And just think, all the guys will know you have it rammed up your arse and cannot take it out. Their dicks are on fire. They won’t be able to leave you alone.”

Tawny shook her blonde rings around her cheek, barely able to speak. “I am going to have a permanent orgasm here!”

Dusty smiled. “That’s the idea. With us permanently aroused we are more submissive and in need! Especially as we can’t give ourselves a pussy orgasm, as it’s locked away.”

Thomas needed to go to a bathroom and just try and rub himself to orgasm despite his caged dick.

Orchard nodded at Thomas, and said, “I think our dom friend is enjoying the idea too!”

The girls giggled with flushed cheeks at Thomas’ discomfort.

“No!” Thomas said, “Not all.”

He spoke so breathlessly that the other three girls just laughed louder at him.

Dusty patted his arm again. “Oh, don’t worry, Lacy. You’ll love it. I know. We all do!”

Thomas saw the café door open and Poppy returning but two tall men were with her, each with a riding crop. As they approached Thomas’ table, so he felt his tummy groan with fear as if electricity was tingling inside him.

One of the guys was the ghastly bully who had whipped his thighs! Thomas couldn’t look him in the eye and finished the last of his salad.

Poppy stopped at their table and said to the two powerful men, “Here are the noobs, Lacy and Tawny, which you, Sir,” she smiled at Thomas’ tormentor, “have met and already disciplined one of them!”

Tawney looked at Thomas for a reaction and suddenly Thomas realised that the other two pony girls were staring at him with amusement.

 

 With that Poppy turned on her heels and wiggled away, calling back, “Have fun Sirs.”

Thomas was close to fainting. It was all he could to remain in his seat and not slide under the table with mind numbing shame.

Then he realised this was chance to make clear the problem!

He cleared his throat ready to explain to them how he was dominant and that it should be his wife sitting here awaiting training. After all these dominant guys wouldn’t be as dumb as the pony girls, so they would listen to him.

Thomas’ freedom was in sight!

 

 

Pony Trap Chapter Five by Deborah Ford

 

 

The fearsome Master stood, in his crisp white shirt and jodhpurs holding up a small, metallic contraption before the eyes of the alarmed Thomas. Thomas who was secured to a post while wearing the pony girl uniform of thigh length boots, tights and constricting leather corset. A bridle had been secured to Thomas’ head with bells that jingled whenever he tried to speak or make the slightest of movements to his head. The bit secured was deeply in his mouth so that it rested heavily on his togue reducing any speech to indecipherable moans.

“Poppy,” The Master said with a superior grin to the ever obedient, male maid, , “undo the corset between Lacy’s legs and give the pony girl’s little ‘un a wipe down.”

“Yes Master,” said Poppy, immediately tugging at the strap between Thomas’ legs and freeing up the corset.

Thomas felt relief around his groin as the compacting corset fell away, though it still held his tummy in tightly. Poppy briskly returned from the en-suite with a warm wet flannel and raised the front of Lacy’s corset.

“No!”, Thomas made to protest, but the bit held his tongue down and he only succeeded in letting off the jangling bells.

Too late! With the front of the corset raised up Thomas’ erection was exposed and it quickly decreased in size, like air being let out of a balloon.

As his dick and tummy were mopped, clearing away the precum that had gathered since he had been attired in the fetish outfit, so Thomas took a close look at the contraption in the Master’s hand.

A chastity cage!

“No!” Sadly, the words came out as grunts and incomprehensible noises making the two black mistresses laugh.

Poppy stood up on her maid’s heels looking to the Master to see if he was satisfied with her cleaning job.

“Good girl, Poppy,” The Master said.

Thomas noted a smile of relief on Poppy’s pink lips.

The Master continued, “Now be a good girl and take back this small chastity cage and swap it for the tiny version.” He stared at Thomas’ shrinking member and laughed. “I think we overestimated its size for the small version!”

Thomas’ wife, Izabella, took a step forward on her leash and said, “Aw” to Thomas. “I thought you were just small. Sorry.”

The two dominant women, Miss Olive and Miss Khaki, laughed.

Small? Thomas nibbled on the bit. If only he could protest. He knew he wasn’t big, but to describe him as small was deeply humbling especially to this oaf who presided over the Manor.

Poppy returned from the white box and held up a ludicrously small object, in fact it was crazily miniscule, as if it were missing a part. Thomas could see the twin LEDs on it, one amber and the other green at the top of the ring section. He felt sick. He struggled but once again found his wrists were secured inexorably behind the post and ankles to either side of the post

“Poppy,” The Master said, “It seems appropriate that a dumb sissy maid like you should apply the chastity cage to a dumb, sissy, pony girl.”

Again, everyone laughed, and Thomas’ cheeks felt red hot with shame.

Clearly Poppy was an old hand with fitting the cage. Within a few seconds Thomas felt his member caged in the miniscule device. It felt worryingly tight, as if it might cut off his circulation.

“Ok, slut,” The Master said to Izabella, “open your phone and go to the Manor app and call up Lacy.”

Pulling back her mouth in trepidation, Izabella said, “Oh, I told you I’m rubbish at techie stuff like this.”

The Master Laughed. “Even a stupid slut like you will master this!”

Tapping on her phone screen, Izabella said, “Okey. I’m in Lacy’s account.”

Thomas held his breath, what on earth was happening?

“Now enter the chastity tab,” The Master said.

Miss Khaki giggled, “Oh, here comes the fun part!”

Oh God! Sheer terror raced through the mind of Thomas. What the hell was the fun part for this bunch of sadists.

“Now,” The Master continued, “hold the phone close to your pony’s chastity cage and press the lock button. It looks like an open padlock.”

Crouching down, Izabella complied and tapped her screen.

Her phone and the chastity cage pinged at the same time and Thomas felt the ring behind his ball sack twist slightly, squeezing his penis.

His bells clanged as he shook his head in horror. This was terrifying.

“Excellent.” The Master announced. “You see the cage flashing green? That means it is secure. The mechanism can only be released by you or someone in the Server Centre. Your pony is locked until you say otherwise.”

Looking up at the Master with awe, Izabella said, “Wow!”

“How do you feel?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” Thomas’ wife said breathlessly. “Odd, I guess. Like, really powerful. In control, and sort of strong. Empowered. Difficult to explain.”

Miss Khaki said, “This is you first pony. You’ll never forget the excitement of your first ownership.”

The Master became serious. “Nor the responsibility.”

Izabella stared at him with uncomprehending eyes.

“From now on this pony girl is your sole responsibility. You must make sure she is fed and watered and exercised. You must ensure that she maintains her lessons in an adequate manner.” He inhaled in thought, “And you must never forget that should Lacy be naughty or behave in a bratty manner then she is your responsibility.”

There was a heavy silence before Izabella nodded, “Yes, Master. I understand.”

Izabella approached the wide-eyed Thomas, strapped to the post.

“Lacy,” she said softly. “I don’t want you to disappoint me. You must behave at all times and listen to your instructors carefully. I will hear back if you are troublesome or give any back chat. So,” She put her palm to his hot cheek, “so, please don’t let me down, because I know you think you like being punished, but really, the methods of punishment here will not be nice. They are punishments to serve a purpose to ensure you are an obedient pony girl.”

Miss Olive laughed, “Unless we spank you for fun. Then you can enjoy it.”

Everyone chuckled – except Thomas who simply stared in horror as The Master Thomas’ wife led to the entrance, tugging on the leash.

“Lacy’s owner is going to be busy this afternoon,” The Master said, staring at Izabella until she lowered her head with a blush. “So Miss Khaki and Miss Olive, you may start Lacy’s training.” He looked down at the sexy woman on the end of the leash. “Slut?”

“Yes, Master?” Izabella asked.

“Tell Miss Olive and Miss Khaki that they can supervise and punish your sissy pony.”

“Oh!” Izabella gasped. “Master, I’m not sure I want others punishing my pony girl.”

Miss Khaki spoke reassuringly, as if comforting a close friend feeling anxiety. “Don’t worry, Miss Indigo. Lacy is now yours. She will be registered in the server area. No one can take her away from you. Only you can sell her on.”

 

‘Sell her on?’ Thomas’ eyes grew wide. What the fuck? Sell her? what did that mean?

Miss Khaki continued in her kindly tone to Izabella, “It’s just that in the Manor all dominants help train ponies and maids. It is easier if the dumb sluts know they cannot get away with anything, no matter who they are with. A well behaved pony girl and maid is a happy pony girl and maid.”

“Aw,” Izabella said. “Thank you so much.” She glanced back to the shocked Thomas. “Now you be a good pony girl for Miss Khaki and Miss Olive. I’m sure they will be very fair with you.” She turned back to the two tall, dominant mistresses. “And please let me know if she’s not behaving. The Master said I need to act promptly if she misbehaves.”

Smiling, the two dominant women kissed her cheek in turn.

Miss Olive said, “Don’t you worry. Lacy is in good hands. You go and get what you’ve always wanted from a real man.”

Visibly relaxing, Izabella gave Thomas a little girly wave and blew a kiss before vanishing back into the stables area beyond the door to his compartment.

The Master’s voice could be heard shouting back, “Use an indigo collared plume for Lacy’s head! I want her marked as owned by Miss Indigo.”

“Yes Master,” Miss Khaki and Miss Olive said.

Thomas heard his wife giggle, as they moved away, out of ear shot.

Miss Olive knelt down before Thomas and resecured the strap between his legs. It felt tauter than before. It was as if the tiny chastity cage had compressed his manhood until he was flat the front.

As she rose, she held eye contact with the skittish pony girl, to enjoy the reaction to her next words. “You’ll be relieved to know that your wife is now enjoying the pleasures of a real cock rather than that apology for a little dick you own, or rather once owned. It’s good that your little dickie is quite rightly locked away even from your touch.”

Miss Khaki joined her, again with her attention fixed on Thomas. “The trouble is, little pony girl, once a woman has been properly fucked, by a real man, with a good sized cock, then, aw,” she stroked his hair, “then she won’t even want to consider a little sissy like you. Not ever again.”

With her eyes wide, as if in orgasmic ecstasy, Miss Olive continued, “The sooner you accept what you truly are, then the easier it will be for you. A small dicked, sissy pony girl, owned by his wife, while she is fucking real men.”

Miss Olive held her breath as she added, “Oh no, Lacy. Don’t listen to Miss Khaki. You fight it! Give us a laugh. You and I are going to have so much fun!”

Miss Khaki, stepped back as if flustered. “Jesus I need a real man to fuck me. Or a maid or pony girl to lick me to orgasm!”

Miss Olive shook her head, with closed eyes. “Finding a new sissy pony always makes me wetter than a harbour. I am soaking!”

Miss Khaki snarled at Poppy, “Get this bitch’s indigo plume fitted. Remove some of the head harness bells and take her for refreshments before her first training.” She paused, staring Thomas full in the face until he had to look away. “And you Lacy, if I hear of any naughtiness from you, then I’ll personally deal with you.” She paused for impact. “Do you want that?”

Thomas shook his head listening to the awful clanging bells.

At least once the two tall mistresses were gone, he could get Poppy to release him from his collar and cage and then he could dress in his old clothes ready to escape this crazy place.

 

 

 

Taken around 1911, it shows how early the techniques of turning sissy husbands into useful maids was developed.

Over seen by Miss Evans’ great grandmother it became a picture of Edwardian society, producing elegant, obedient, suitably attired maids for a hungry market.

 

 

And if you think that is bad, the Bull will be cross with you for disobeying your mistress, so worse is to come.

Pony Trap by Deborah Ford

 

Chapter 4

 

 

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’.

What?

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.

Everyone laughed.

“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?