A Pony Tale, part 5
A sort of sledge some two metres in length was brought in and laid on the ground at the far end of the arena. James led Wood Spirit onto the sledge and tapped her leg just below the knee. She knelt down on her heels.
Next Trawler Captain and Antonio/Arnie appeared. They both had on much sturdier harnesses than before, with thick chains hanging from the back. Lucinda noticed they both wore hiking boots.
Charles said, "With the limited space here we can only have a static dragging heat but it will still give you an idea of the sort of events we run.
"The principle is very simple; each pony takes it in turns to drag a fixed weight, in this case one of the prettiest weights I've seen..." he smiled at Wood Spirit who blushed and also couldn't help smiling, "...over a fixed distance and their time is recorded. The winner is the one with the shortest time out of three attempts.
"A handicap system is used based on previous form. In this case El Caballo Padre de Castellon has a two second penalty and goes last.
He was pointing to Antonio/Arnie - so he was Spanish? Lucinda could envisage him Flamenco dancing or bull fighting but she couldn't decipher his name and settled on "El" for short.
A groom, riding crop in hand, timidly approached the Trawler Captain who snorted at him and stamped her feet. He grabbed her reins and dealt her a sharp blow on the buttocks with the crop. This enraged her further and she pulled at the reins until three more blows subdued her sufficiently for the groom to lead her to a point in front of the sledge. The other groom attached the chains on her harness to two ropes attached to the sledge.
The pony bucked and twisted until more blows reduced her to hissing through her bit as she glowered at the grooms.
Peter whispered to Lucinda, "She's working up her adrenalin. This sort of thing can get quite out of control at times, they get a sort of high on it."
Lucinda firstly wondered how he knew all this and, secondly, was bemused how he talked about the big woman as though she genuinely was a horse. She shrugged and added them to her list of paranoia points to clear up later.
James had a stopwatch poised. "Pull!!" he commanded.
The groom delivered a resounding blow and the woman leapt forward to overcome the inertia of the sledge. She grunted and stomped her feet forward step by step and, slowly, the sledge picked up speed. The audience clapped in time with her stomping and cheered when the front of the sledge crossed a chalk line drawn on the floor.
"27 seconds" James announced.
The woman was unhitched and stood panting as the sledge was returned and El hitched to it. He was perfectly calm as they did this. The only sign of any reaction was his slow, deep breathing.
Like my Yoga, Lucinda thought as she automatically ran through one of her pranayama breathing cycles.
El's time was 25 seconds including the handicap.
They both took another turn going in the return direction across the room. This gave Lucinda a chance to rest her chin in her hands and ogle El's straining gluteus muscles. Peter raised an eyebrow at her.
"I'm being attentive" she grinned, "like you were with Wood Spirit!"
This time the woman managed it in 24 seconds and El was still 25. She strutted around to the cheers of the crowd. He remained impassive.
As the woman's final attempt commenced, someone in the audience started to shout out the seconds...
"3... 4... 5..."
The crowd cheered and joined in as the count neared 23, then 24 and finally 26.
"She's tired" noted Peter.
"I'm not surprised!" said Lucinda. "Look at her." The woman was walking around gasping for breath and pouring with sweat.
Lucinda was rapidly coming to the opinion that either sweatiness was a prerequisite for being a pony or there was a great market for pony deodorants.
It was now El's final turn. Lucinda, like most of the women in the room, wanted him to win and before she realised it, she was on her feet shouting out the times with the crowd like a partygoer at a hen night baying for the male stripper's jock strap.
"20... 21... 22!"
James confirmed. 22 seconds. El had won.
Charles patted him on the shoulder and he grinned at the crowd. Perfect teeth... naturally.
The two contestants and Wood Spirit were led to the back of the room. Charles then announced, "Time for a break. After this we shall see the show ponies and our finale. Please feel free to inspect the ponies and chat to their owners. You may touch or pet the ponies but I ask you to be gentle and not alarm them because they can get very skittish in crowds.
"I'd also like to remind you about the stall outside and the Berkshire Trials." He waved the form again.
"We restart in 20 minutes, prompt! Thank you."
The audience clapped and the lights above the tables came on.
Some people appeared from a table at the far end of the room. The ponies' owners Lucinda presumed, judging by the proprietary interest that they took in their charges as they joined them.
A large number of onlookers went over to the line of ponies that were now all tethered between the two podia, the two ponies receiving their punishment getting a great deal of attention. One or two of crowd tentatively reached out a hand to touch them and then they were mainly lost to Lucinda's view.
Peter stood and stretched. He turned to Lucinda. "Well?"
"Well what?" she replied.
"Well, what do you think? Of course."
Lucinda thought a moment. "To be honest, I don't know. Frankly it's bloody weird but also compelling. I don't understand why the ponies don't just say 'Piss off' and walk away when they're being abused like that."
Peter smiled in his patronising I'm-looking-enigmatic way that infuriated her but he remained silent.
"I wish you'd explain what's going on here."
"That's what Charles and James have been doing, what part didn't you follow?"
Lucinda sighed. "Stop being so damned obtuse. You know just what I mean. About me. This was a set-up."
Peter sat, leant towards her and took her hands in his. He kissed her and looked her directly in the eyes.
"You were so incredible sexy last weekend. You turned me on... very much. Very much indeed." He almost blushed.
"Really?" Lucinda grinned. "Well I think you know what you did to me."
"I have though of little else all week!" he replied.
Lucinda could feel herself becoming aroused just talking about it. "I have thought about it too. In fact I was rather hoping we'd go straight home after dinner and fuck the living daylights out of each other until Monday morning. I was not expecting all this..." She waved her hand about.
Peter looked forlorn. "Oh. And I thought you said you liked the animal behaviour. I'm sorry I took you too literally, but the thought of you proudly performing really turns me on. You'd make a lovely pony."
Lucinda looked at him. He just stared back at her like a little boy waiting for Father Christmas to deliver the presents.
"You're serious?" she asked.
He merely nodded.
"You'd actually like me dressed up like that? Bridles and stuff?"
"Being trained? Made to perform in these events?"
"You'd not laugh at me and think me a complete prat?"
"Never. No way. Not anyhow."
"What about others leching over my tits and more?"
"You have great tits... and more. I'd feel very proud to have others admiring them. It would make them very jealous."
Lucinda deliberately shut up and looked at him quizzically. He really was serious she realised. It was also blatantly apparent that he knew a great deal more about ponies than he'd previously admitted to and wished to share this with her.
She contemplated the thought of wearing the harnesses and bridles and the other erotic gear, especially those super boots. What had she to lose? It was only dressing up after all, not a lot different to sexy undies and the skimpy nightie she'd occasionally worn for him and other boyfriends in the past - and herself. Now, if this stuff even had only half the effect that that did...
It would take some getting used to.
"You'd have to be patient with me?"
What did she feel about having her tits... and more... leched at? Damn it. She'd spent the best part of a fortnight the previous summer spread-eagled naked in the sun on a Greek beach and not given a toss. On the contrary, she'd had a little thrill at the way men, and some women, looked her up and down as they passed. She grinned as she recalled the game she'd played by peering between her breasts from under her sunglasses and lining up "targets" with her pubes as a foresight. Willing them to look at her as she "fired".
"This is all rather a rush," she said.
"This whipping and stuff is a bit extreme."
"I understand. I love you. I'd never do anything to hurt you."
Oh God! He'd said it. The magic phrase. Lucinda felt a dozen little fluttering explosions inside her. This was DECISION TIME, an IMPORTANT STEP, a LIFE CHOICE before her.
She gulped. What the hell. It was time she had a change and she was very fond of him but not sure whether she loved him as such, after her previous fiascos she was not sure what it really meant. Anyhow, he was great in the sack.
She took the plunge...
"Clippity bloody clop, Master."
Peter beamed and hugged her tight before planting a huge kiss on her lips. "That's great! Wonderful! As you'd say 'super'!"
Lucinda pushed him away a little. He looked alarmed.
"One condition though."
"We still get to fuck the living daylights out of each other this weekend!"
"Too right we do!"
"It's a deal then partner." She spat on her hand like she'd seen Irish horse traders do; he laughed and spat on his before they shook hands.
"So, what are we doing in a sodding stable when I could be pleasing my Master?" she asked.
"My darling, you are pleasing me greatly. You have no idea just how much in the last two minutes. But I also want to please you and the finale is what I've brought you to see. The rest is window dressing."
Lucinda grinned. "I'm teasing. Honestly I do find this interesting and very sexy and I'm flattered that you'd consider me worthy of being a pony."
"I have no doubts there, you'll blow their minds like you blow mine!"
"I intend to blow a lot more than your mind tonight!" she said as she pursed her lips at him.
"Oh God!" he moaned.
She grinned and hugged him, then put on a childish voice, "Pwease can we go and look at the pwetty ponies now? Pwease Daddy. Pwease!"
"Of course we can" he laughed, "come my pretty little filly."
Oh I fully intend to, she thought. Lots.
They stood and wandered over to the line of ponies.
Copyright © 1997 PonyGirlUK
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