A Pony Tale
"OK, take off your clothes" the man said calmly as he shut the door behind her. Although Lucinda had often been naked with him before, it had invariably been in bed together in a darkened room at night not broad daylight in the living room like this.
"This is silly" she thought. Considering what was in store for her through the weekend she was behaving like a virgin bride on her first night. However, as she caught sight of the vast array of harnesses and equipment carefully aligned on the coffee table like the instruments of some bizarre veterinary surgeon she suddenly felt very much a virgin at this new game.
Peter had suggested that they visit the Club on a number of occasions over the three months since they became lovers. During this period he had become her mentor in the "scene". She had come to realise she had always been drawn to the more extreme, some would even say perverted, aspects of sex and sexuality but had not found a path that she felt comfortable to explore. He had become her guide. Carefully teasing and tantalising but never pushing her too far beyond the safety of the edge she subconsciously hung onto.
She maintained that a worthy and satisfying relationship was more about a meeting of minds, not some mindless "fucking" like animals in rut. In fact, she found the idea of a one-night-stand totally abhorrent. For her sex was one of the many ways she could share her mind and thoughts with her lover and had little to do with a competition to get prime DNA squirted onto her ova.
When she discovered that the actual act of coupling was just a tiny part of a much bigger picture that could involve the mind even to the exclusion of that final purpose, it awakened a hunger in her that needed to discover more. At times, she sensed that the intensity of her interest even alarmed her new mentor.
Just over a fortnight ago she accepted his invitation to visit the Club. The Pony Club. Even its name was intriguing and thrilling. Innocent on the surface but potentially veiling so many darker layers below. "Real ponies?" she thought, shuddering at what they might do. Her knowledge of equine male anatomy was limited to what she had seen on farms. She felt it would stretch a lot more than one's imagination to appreciate what was possible.
What she saw there, however, had profoundly disturbed both her sleep and her waking hours with a confusing mixture of doubt and compelling curiosity.
For the first time since she had discovered the concept of sexual power play, or BDSM, she felt she really had some inkling of the appeal it held for its devoted disciples.
She half smiled at her lover.
"I'm sorry but I'm still a little unsure" she said nervously.
"It'll be fine darling" he said as he moved to her and hugged her tightly. "We'll take it one step at a time and you know we can stop at any point you want?"
She slipped her arms around his huge waist and snuggled up close. Although she was tall and long limbed, he still towered over her. His size and strength reassured her greatly, she eagerly wanted to please him in every way.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I really am being silly."
"No you're not, you are being you and I wouldn't have you any other way." He murmured as he stroked her hair over and over again, soothing her like a timid pet.
She rubbed her cheek against his chest and cast her mind back to the similar displays of love and devotion she had seen at the Club.
They had arrived there at around 10pm on the Friday night after a simple but delicious meal at her favourite Italian restaurant. After a fresh pasta and ruccola salad with parmigiano washed down with a basic, but good, red wine her hormones had started to create havoc with her decorum.
A litre of the wine between them ensured that her decorum was well on its way back home for cocoa and early bed as she, in turn, was feeling the night had only just begun.
The combination of the alcohol and her normal reaction to things that made her nervous resulted in a giggling fit in the taxi as it pulled into a sleazy half lit street behind one of the larger main-line stations.
The driver must have known where they were going and she caught an exchange of glances in the mirror between him and her lover who calmly slipped his hand between her thighs and gripped all of the flesh around her sex in his huge hand.
"Behave!" he commanded.
She was so surprised at the directness of the act and his public display of control that she just sat bolt upright with her mouth open like some paralysed goldfish.
"That's better" he smiled. He eased his grip and, as he removed his hand, he pressed the crotch of her panties and tights into her vulva with his fingertips before drawing them up to caress the sensitive bump at the top.
She gulped and nodded. He smiled as he withdrew his hand to leave the hem of her skirt lying across the tops of her thighs.
He stared at the sight of her exposed legs in black Lycra tights, kissed her cheek, then took her hand and helped her out.
As the driver sorted out the change he winked at him and said "You've got a lovely one there Guv, I'm sure she'll do you proud."
She frowned indignantly, hitched her bag over her shoulder and smoothed down her skirt. Although she tried to look aloof she found it difficult with the flesh of her pummelled pussy still tingling and a cotton gusset stuffed up her.
Her lover smiled and, looking her over, nodded, "She already does that but, I have no doubts that she will continue to do so in the future, thank you."
The driver waved goodbye to them with a raised finger and grinned at her, "Have fun then, love."
She gave her sweet and cheesy thank-you-but-you-have-a-snowball's-chance-in-Hell smile. The two men just grinned.
She ignored them both. She noticed that the architecture of the building was Victorian Gothic as she wandered indifferently away. Sadly, the impressiveness of the overblown Imperial dignity of the old station was slightly ruined by the fact that she stood on a used condom. It was one of those garish purpley pink types but she couldn't really tell under sodium lights. The first thought she had on noticing the horrid thing was that it was probably blackcurrant flavoured too. She wasn't prepared to find out.
"Oh yuck!" She cried lifting her foot only to find the obscene thing tenaciously hung to the sole like a gutted fish before it dived back to the pavement.
The cabbie laughed and drove off.
Now it was her lover's turn to have a giggling fit, she turned and flexed her fingers at his groin intent upon inflicting a similar treatment to that she had received.
He backed away laughing, "OK, touché. Besides.." he said puffing his chest up, "you need strength for that!" He playfully grabbed her wrists and forced her arms high up behind her back as he pulled her roughly to him and kissed her hard.
She melted. From the feeling of his tongue deep in her mouth, through the pressure on her small but highly sensitive breasts via the tingly bits inside until she positively dripped from below.
It was delicious.
"Mmmm" she purred and added with a grin "Lead on O Masterful one."
He laughed and, as he put his arm around her shoulders, she slipped her arms around his waist.
He guided her down a short cobbled street towards a small door set in a larger door made of blue planks. This shut off the front of one of the old railway arches. Light shone from under the door and cast dancing shadows of moving legs and feet on the shiny curved stones of the street.
"They hold a Fetish Flea Market here on alternate Sundays. That's how I discovered the Pony Club" he said, proudly showing off his knowledge.
"They must be very skilled to make rubber and leather outfits that small" she teased.
He rolled his eyes to the sky.
Her other defense against nerves was making terrible jokes. Judging by the butterflies in her stomach and his reaction she felt he would end up with a detailed appreciation of the ceiling inside.
She suppressed a giggle and looked up seriously.. "Sorry."
"No you're not" he grinned and hugged her to him, "you're a tease and the loveliest one I know."
She felt a warm glow inside and kissed his cheek as he reached to open the door.
The place was huge and surprisingly warm. The heat came from gas fires like those in her old school gym. They hung on thick, black steel pipes from the curved brickwork above and, dangling from each side, had chains with rings in the end to control them.
"How fitting" she thought. "Even the heaters are subs!"
She was very nervous now they were inside with other people.
A pretty waitress in a short flouncy skirt greeted them and took their coats before leading them to a table. Peter ordered two cappuccinos and the waitress curtsied and wiggled off.
Lucinda was fascinated. Although the room was fairly empty, people bustled about giving it an air of excitement. She looked around.
The "bar" was a cluster of four round, white plastic tables and a few matching uncomfortable chairs. They were the type that are so slippery you end up hanging by your kidneys if you try to lean back. She perched on the edge.
There was a crude coat rail between the tables and the large door but she noticed that two of the women in the party just arriving kept on the long cloaks they wore as they and their partners hurried through a curtained door set into the wall on the left side of the arch.
"Most Owners will have brought their Ponies here earlier to let them settle down" her lover whispered to her. "The less experienced ones can get very jumpy at an event."
"An event?" she asked.
"Yes." He continued, "Tonight is one of the main Shows. The best Ponies win trophies and rosettes. They are highly prized."
"Just like a real horsey event?"
"Absolutely. The members take this very seriously. To have a winning Pony is a great honour for an Owner and an enormous accolade for the Trainer. The prize-winning Trainers are sought after by Owners and Ponies alike. The top Trainers only devote the time and care to the few Ponies they feel have winning potential."
It made her slightly uncomfortable.
"You mean the Owners don't train the Ponies?"
"Oh sure, most do, but they can only go so far. Besides, a Trainer is much more objective, he or she can exert a discipline many Owners find hard to give."
He looked at her and said carefully as he cupped her hands on the table "I would only use a top Trainer for a future Pony of mine."
She stared back and felt the flush warm her cheeks.
"You'd not mind that another had use of me.. er the Pony I mean?"
He smiled and squeezed her hands.
"I'd only want the best for the one I love."
She swallowed hard.
"I wouldn't want to disappoint you" she said quietly, realising that she had not only accepted his invitation to become his Pony but also that he said he loved her.
He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed her fingertips softly.
"You would never do that" he smiled.
"This BDSM stuff still worries me though" she added, "I still remember how it upset me that first time and I embarrassed both of us."
He nodded and leant over to kiss her lips.
"I will never go too fast for you again my darling, that also taught me to be more careful."
He went on, "I'm worried now as well. Do you mean you don't like the games we play?"
"Oh no! I mean yes, I love them" she grinned and rubbed her foot on his calf under the table. "Quite the contrary. You have shown me pleasures I didn't know existed and I will be eternally grateful for that."
The waitress returned with their coffee and Peter paid her.
Lucinda continued, "It's just that old niggle I had.."
"You mean the How-can-he-want-to-do-that-to-me? niggle?" he asked.
She nodded and bit her lip, feeling silly.
He grinned and stroked her cheek. "My darling. I love you very much. You are the most precious thing in my life and I constantly ask myself 'Why me?' Please understand that I would never, ever do anything to hurt or scare you that you didn't agree to."
"I know. I know. But.. Oh! Damn, I don't know how to put this." She took a breath. "It's just that I've always been taught to respect my body and look after it, sometimes I think that this is wishing damage upon it and I can't bear to think that you'd want to do that."
She felt terrible but had said it. She tried to hold back her tears.
He was obviously very concerned and looked at her without saying anything for what seemed like ages.
"Oh God! That's torn it" she thought, "My big mouth and stupid ideas destroy yet another relationship."
He touched a tear as it welled up in the corner of her eye, licked his finger and smiled.
"Please believe me when I say that I would never do or think of harming your lovely body in any way. Let me explain..
"Our bodies are the physical extensions of our minds, we use them to communicate with each other in all the obvious ways. Many people even screw that up!"
He chuckled and went on.. "When you let me do those things to your body you are indirectly sharing with me a part of your mind that few people appreciate can be shared. Part of the 'inner' you if you like. The bit one retreats to when things get tough out there. I find that one of the most intimate and sexiest things imaginable. The sight of you as you drift off and luxuriate in that space is incredibly erotic and the trust it implies is probably the greatest gift one can give. Does that make sense?"
She felt a huge wave of understanding and relief wash over her. He had managed to express what she felt this was all about and dispel the worries she had that it was selfish to "retreat" as he put it. She kissed his fingers and tasted the salt of her tears.
"Oh my love, I do want to share that, you know how bad I am at saying those things. If I can give you that with my body then it makes me very happy. Probably the happiest I've ever been."
She smiled and cocked her head to one side. He beamed.
"Hello again" a tall, distinguished looking man said as he held out his hand to Peter.
Lucinda broke her reverie.
Copyright © 1997 PonyGirlUK
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