Pony Girl, Volume 1

by Mark Andrews

  The boys were now led out to the track, just as the girls had been before them and I wilted as I watched the fine muscles of their so totally exposed thighs and buttocks cording and rippling as they took each step and I knew once they were running with the gigs behind them, it would be even more erotic.

  It was, too. I had been interested in the girls but not sexually - at least not in the sense their bodies interested me sexually but with these boys, it was a different matter altogether. They were as handsome as the girls had been beautiful and although I wasn’t about to give up Sebastian for a single one of them, just looking at them as they stood there in a line, waiting for the flag to drop was utterly stupendous.

  There it was! Down it came, and off they went, each pair of buttocks and thighs now flexed magnificently as their owners leaned forward, taking the miniscule gigs with them while the boys sat on the saddles and lashed at the almost naked backs and rears writhing in front of them. I wondered (aloud) why they weren’t bridled but Sebastian didn’t answer me, just shushing my words with a finger across my lips and smiling briefly at me before returning his attention to the six young men pounding around the soft track, their bare feet making their near nakedness even more apparent.

  Again the winner was the black and again I wasn’t surprised. The black races seem to have an inherent genetic ability at athletics - the Olympic Games are evidence of that and in any case, this boy clearly had the physique of a winner.

  Now, after crowding around the six boys down on the track, we moved to watch them bathed, again after being stripped naked by their groom and then submitting to the so indecent caressing of their bodies with the wet rags. As with the girls (who had now joined the rest of us in their rubber leotards), these boys’ genitals were toyed with under the guise of cleansing them but everyone knew it was the erotic thrill of watching them masturbated that was the go here.

  There were four races in all. Two with girl ponies and as many with young males. The first two were with the shorter competitors; the latter with the taller and even more athletic girls and boys. I found it all utterly intriguing - as Sebastian had known I would - although he didn’t know the half of it about me. Not yet. For that matter, I didn’t know the half of it about me either at that time. Gradually though, it would all develop as my mind took in and began to digest the concept.

  Human beings ... ultra beautiful or handsome young women and men who willingly submitted to being stripped down to a very revealing harness (and later to total nakedness as they were bathed) and harnessed to a gig as if they were real equine ponies and then raced as such - right in front of hundreds of upper crust spectators who revelled in the scene - as, it seemed, did the ponies themselves. If a single one of those ponies was there against her or his will, I would go he, for their faces and their whole body language, despite the obvious shame, told of their sexual delight in performing for us.

  It hadn’t hit me at that point. Then, I was just thrilled to be there as a spectator; to watch as these boys and girls were handled as animals, harnessed, felt down (like a real horse would be) by men and women who were obviously expert at judging human horseflesh. I also revelled in the races themselves although the lead-up to each race and its aftermath were even more exciting in my mind.

  The event had started in the morning with two races before the barbecue lunch put on by the organisers and during which we mingled with everyone, including the rubber-clad ponies. I was surprised when I spoke to one of them, the handsome black boy who had won the second race for he only neighed back at me.

  “They are taught to consider themselves as real ponies for the duration of the meeting, Mercedes,” Sebastian explained. “You won’t get a word out of any of them.”

  “Oh,” I said, deflated for once. “But afterwards?”

  “Afterwards, they will go back to their lives - some to their trainer with whom they live because he or she trains them all the time although they work at proper jobs as well. Others who are not live-in, will return to their normal lives until called on for a training session or another meeting.”

  After the very nice barbecue, we gathered around the track again and watched the second female race, followed by the last race of the day, this one for the larger male ponies. The boys here were even more muscular although none were heavily muscled. Highly athletic, yes, but none bulged with unnecessary muscle. To my mind, they were epitome of the perfect male physique, just as the girls were of the superbly fit female.

  The shocks of the day were not over yet however. Now the concept that these ponies really did derive a bizarre thrill from the humiliation of being treated as ponies, was underlined to me.

  The six final contestants were stripped and ritually ‘rubbed down’ as they stood in the pans of tepid water, each of their cocks at full erection, partly from the constant rubbing of them with the wet rags but I suspected, even more from the ogling eyes of the fully dressed men and women who crowded around the pans to watch as they were publicly cleaned. Then, after this final indignity was over, all two dozen ponies were prepared to be transported home.

  Yes, that is the correct terminology for even now they were still ponies and would be right up until they reached their destinations - and some of them, I later found out, would continue to be so indefinitely.

  Each pony was now led by his ‘owner’ over to his or her car, at the back of which was attached one of those small caravans used to transport dogs. They are only about three feet high and the same width but about six feet long. They don’t have windows but there are usually grilles all around them to let in fresh air. That is exactly what these trailers looked like and I felt another rush of lust as I imagined what was about to happen.

  I was right, but I hadn’t bargained on the full extent of the humiliation these ponies thrived on. Each of the ‘owners’ nodded to his or her charge and each then began to pull off the rubber garment that had kept them warm before and after their respective race until they were again as naked as when they had been bathed in the large flat pans.

  Their owners then opened the doors at the rear of the trailers and I noticed each was provided with clean straw on the floor. I also noticed the insides were set up with sets of bars across the front and back of the trailer and one along its length and I looked up at Sebastian, silently asking the reason for them.

  He smiled down at me. “The illusion of ponies is kept up even inside them, Mercedes. The bars ensure the ponies stay on all fours. The longitudinal plank keeps their middles up for you see as they straddle it, their left arm and leg are on that side and the right on the other.” I nodded and watched as the ponies bent down and crawled in, now noting that the cross bars at the front prevented them from sitting or even lying down. They had to place their arms in front of it while the one at the rear likewise prevented them from moving their thighs too much. No, I could see that they would be kept on all fours for the whole of the journey.

  The doors were shut after them and then everyone said their goodbyes.

  I was pensive as we made our way out of the huge estate, one of a long line of Jaguars, Daimlers, Land Rovers and the like, all dispersing once we got to the main road. I was also still on the most massive high of my life. Sebastian didn’t intrude. I think he knew how excited I was but also that I needed to collect my thoughts; arrange them to cope with this so exciting new concept he had hit me with.

  He concentrated on driving the big Jaguar but I knew he was glancing at me from time to time, his face as serene as ever. I had no idea what my face showed. If it reflected my thoughts, it must have been constantly changing from glee, to seriousness, back to glee and then lust as I thought over the bodies of the ponies as they competed in a near naked state and then later were washed down totally nude. Naturally, my mind wandered more to the boys than the girls for although I can admire the body of a beautiful girl, I have never felt any sexual attraction to them. The boys were ano
ther thing entirely however and as I let my mind wander back over the twelve of them, I felt a recurrence of that embarrassing wetness down between my legs.

  But it was also the very idea of human pony racing that so excited me. Of course it wouldn’t have been the same if they had been clothed. Should that have been the case, it would have been merely another form of athletics. Hell, all over the world, but particularly in Asian countries, rickshaws have been around for hundreds of years. But what I had just seen had connotations of humans being considered as ponies - as real, equine ponies. The fact that they were naked, or near naked - and had in fact been stripped down totally nude to be rubbed down just as real ponies were after a race, gave credence to that idea.

  And it was that idea that so intrigued me.

  Suddenly the thought that had been slowly developing in my mind without me really being aware of it hit me - like a hammer.

  I wanted to be one of them!

  I sat back hard in the plush chair beside Sebastian, staring straight ahead out of the windscreen but not seeing the road - or anything else, for that matter - except those naked human ponies! I saw them in my mind’s eye as clearly as if we were back at the estate, watching as they galloped around the little track, hauling the diminutive boys in their gigs round and round, their muscles rippling, their fine bodies sweating hard - but all glorying in their humiliation and shame.

  I couldn’t believe my thoughts. I was an up and coming lawyer. I was doing very well in one of the most prestigious practices in London. I was going to be at the top of my profession in a few years. Surely I wasn’t going to risk that by getting involved in this bizarre cult?

  I glanced at Sebastian again. He caught me looking at him and smiled. “A penny for them, Mercedes?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet, Sebastian. I have a lot of thinking to do ...”

  But then I caught myself. How rude of me. I reached out and touched his thigh (Oh what a thrill it was to touch any part of him) and smiled back at him. “Sorry, Sebastian. That was very rude of me. It’s just that I don’t yet understand my thoughts and my feelings about what I saw today.

  “Don’t get me wrong. It was wonderful - as you could see from the way I behaved. But right now, all sorts of thoughts are tumbling pell-mell through my brain and I don’t understand them.”

  “Don’t worry, Mercedes. I understand. Perhaps I should have warned you before we came?”

  “No, not at all. It isn’t that. I was shocked at first, it’s true, but once I was over the first shock, I was absolutely intrigued at everything that went on. Their near-nakedness; the fact they weren’t allowed to talk during the time they were ponies; their obvious shame mixed with a just as obvious delight; the beauty of the girls and the handsome virility of the boys ... all of it. It was all just so wonderful.”

  “And yet you are all mixed up?” he glanced at me mischievously and reached out to pat my thigh - at which I again thrilled as I always did when he touched me or I him.

  “Yes, I am. No doubt I will sort it all out in my mind but at this moment, it’s all too much.”

  “Let’s not worry about it. I have booked us into Claridge’s, I hope that will be all right?”

  “Oh Sebastian, it will be wonderful - and afterwards, may I stay with you?”

  He grinned broadly. “What do you think?”

  Chapter 2

  “I want to be one of them, Sebastian,” I said at last.

  He raised himself up on one elbow and stared down at me in astonishment. “So that’s why you have been so pensive ever since we left the estate!” he replied at last. “Good God, Mercedes, I had no intention that you actually take part ... no idea that you might be even remotely submissive - especially as a pony girl. I thought you might enjoy the meetings, yes - and you obviously did ... But just think, girl. You would be naked before all those people. Racing almost naked as a human horse! Have you really thought it through?”

  I had said almost nothing during our dinner and only picked at my meal, delicious and beautifully presented as only Claridge’s could. Now after a tumultuous session of the most ardent lovemaking we had ever indulged in, it had all become crystal clear.

  What I had seen that day was what I wanted for myself.

  I thrilled as I thought of myself being stripped by a groom in front of hundreds of people - felt their eyes on my flesh as I wilted under their gaze, all staring at my sex - male as well as female aristocrats staring at me as if I was a real horse being prepared for a race, then harnessed to the little gigs and whipped by the boy-jockey to a spanking pace around the little track.

  I smiled up at my lover and mentor. “Yes, Sebastian, I have thought it through very carefully but even if it means I can no longer work at the firm, I still want to be your pony - owned by you and trained by your trainer and grooms - you do have other ponies, don’t you?”

  He grinned and shook his head ruefully. “No I don’t, Mercedes. I have thought about it but at the moment I have only Father’s little herd to bet on ...”

  I stared at him in awe. “You mean your saintly father actually owns girls - as ponies?”

  “Well not actually owns, although the girls think of themselves in that way, but yes, he has two girls who consider themselves as his permanent human ponies.”

  I was very excited now. “Where do they train? Do they stay in their own houses and only train weekends? Tell me all about it,” I said, all in a rush.

  He grinned again as I stroked the clean-cut muscles of his beautiful chest. “They stay at the castle, Mercedes, but not in it. They are accommodated in a special, secret and out of the way location on the estate - they are housed as ponies - in a real stables that were built by my cousin’s father and now carried on by my cousin, for he has a small stable of ponies, too - you see they all really want to be thought of as ponies all the time. They sleep in real stalls, on straw and they are not allowed to speak, except in an emergency. Their trainer and grooms tend them, work them, exercise and train them just as they would if they were real horses.”

  “Good God,” I breathed. “Oh yes, Sebastian. That’s what I want, too! I would never have known it if you hadn’t shown it to me today but it has struck something in me that has now come out so strongly that I don’t even care about my career any more. I just want to be one of them!”

  We made love again then - even better this time for I sensed Sebastian, for all his concern that I could be throwing away a career in the law on a whim - and a sexual one at that, was, deep down, just as turned on by my decision as I was.

  At last, when it was over and we lay side by side, both gasping from the effort we had put into the passionate love-making, he took my hand in his and suggested I think it over in my dreams and tell him in the morning what I had come up with. I agreed with him and rolled over into his arms, in which position I went to sleep.

  I woke up refreshed and happy - and still very pleased with my decision. For all his, I think genuine, attempts to dissuade me, he seemed pleased with it too and he told me he would talk with his father about it that morning.

  I was called in to the senior partner’s office within an hour of arriving at the firm. He, courteous as always, offered me a seat but then, after going to the door and locking it, returned to his and sat staring at me.

  “You are a very beautiful girl, Mercedes,” he began.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “No, I mean it ... You would make a quite beautiful pony ...” I made as if to thank him again but he held up his hand, his face now very serious. “You also have the makings of a very good lawyer and will easily make a partnership in this firm.”

  I looked at him carefully. He was tacitly saying all the things Sebastian had said or implied last night, pointing out to me that I couldn’t have both.

  “I understand what you are hinting at, sir. As I told Sebastian,
if he hadn’t introduced me to the concept I would never have known it even existed, let alone that I had this deep desire to take part in it but I know it is what I want for myself.”

  “It seems you may have a deep-seated but incredibly strong latent wish to be dominated, to be a slave, in effect ... to place yourself below all other human beings.”

  He was still speaking with the utmost courtesy but his words were cutting - intentionally. “Perhaps I do, sir.”

  “Stand up!” he said brusquely. “Take off your clothes - everything! I wish to see you naked!”

  I blushed. But I also glowed. His manner - the brusqueness, the peremptory order, the very indecency of it were all sending shockwaves to my brain - shockwaves of shame and humiliation - and glee.

  I didn’t even hesitate. I stood up and removed the jacket of my suit then folded it and laid it on the chair while he sat back in his executive chair and watched me critically. I undid the skirt of the suit and removed it, too, also folding it and laying it on top of the jacket. Under the suit I had on a string of (fake) pearls and a silk blouse. Both came off in short order and were folded and placed on the growing pile of my clothes. That left me in shoes and stockings, panties and bra but even at this stage I didn’t pause, removing each shoe in turn followed by the stockings. The shoes I placed under the chair; the stockings I folded and placed on the pile. I reached behind me and undid my bra and put it on top of the rest of my clothes and now stood up before his desk, stark naked except for the tiny silk panties that I loved so much. They were more g-string really than panties and I blushed even harder as I felt his eyes staring straight at my now almost revealed sexual organs.

  He looked me up and down, not attempting to hide his salacious interest in my body but then raised his left eyebrow in an unspoken question that I now hesitated to remove the panties. I smiled briefly and nervously, hooked my thumbs into the thin elastic waistband then pushed them down off my hips, adding them at last to the pile of the rest of my clothes on the chair.