The One Pound Ponygirl

by Charles Graham

  The One Pound Ponygirl

  by Charles Graham

  ISBN: 978-1-938897-82-5

  A Pink Flamingo Ebook Publication

  Copyright © 2014, All rights reserved

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, by any means, including mechanical, electronic, photocopying recording or otherwise without prior written permission of the publishers.

  For information contact:

  Pink Flamingo Publications

  www.pinkflamingo.com

  P.O. Box 632 Richland, MI 49083

  USA

  Chapter One

  Gabrielle Aston, a slim, blonde, very attractive bank clerk had been an enthusiast of horses and horse riding since as far back as she could remember and had been making her annual pilgrimage to the first night of the week-long International Horse Show.

  Watching the magnificent horses in the Parade Ring, she fell into casual conversation with a tallish, brown haired man of about her own age. It had only been when she had made a throwaway remark about the difficulty of getting a really good view of the main arena that he had mentioned that he had a private box and invited her to view the remainder of the events from there.

  She had been doubtful, wondering whether he had an ulterior motive for the offer, but he had seemed to be quite ordinary, even a bit diffident and Gabrielle had reckoned that she would be perfectly safe in such a public place.

  Accepting his offer, she had then watched an evening of show-jumping and dressage in total luxury, restricting herself to only two glasses of champagne just in case he was not the gentleman he appeared to be, but he had behaved throughout with perfect courtesy.

  Even to the extent of inviting her to join him every evening for the remainder of the week.

  She had hesitated, but not for long and things had progressed rapidly from drinks, to dinner after the evening show and from a formal “Thank you” to goodnight kisses that quickly grew passionate.

  Matthew Torrance was twenty-seven, she twenty-six, he four inches taller than her five foot seven, his sense of humor blending well with hers, his car a Porsche to her Ford, his penthouse apartment much larger...and much nearer...than hers.

  Within the week, Gabrielle was in his giant bed and had found to her delight that he was a skilful and considerate lover whose enthusiasm for sex was a perfect match for her own.

  It was hardly worth her returning each morning to her apartment…

  On the last night of the Horse Show, they had been in his private box, drinking champagne and watching the final of the carriage-driving event when he made the casual remark that turned her whole world on its head.

  A superb chestnut mare was negotiating the complex sequence of gates under the skilled control of a driver seated on the small lightweight carriage when Matthew had chuckled, “Would you like to try that, Gabrielle?”

  “What? Carriage-driving?”

  “Not quite, darling,” he chuckled a second time, “I was thinking more in terms of me doing the driving and you doing the pulling. I rather like the idea of you between the shafts instead of a horse.”

  Gabrielle had been flabbergasted – the thought of such a thing had never entered her head – but the instant he said the words, she had had a sudden, vivid image of a girl…a girl very like herself…trotting around the giant arena below her, securely fastened to a carriage with a pair of reins leading back from a bit in her mouth to the hands of a driver seated behind her.

  Her eyes widened in astonishment and before she had time to frame any kind of reply, Matthew had chuckled again, “You would look absolutely fantastic all harnessed up and trotting around in front of me.”

  Jerking her eyes from the arena, Gabrielle had stared at her grinning lover, acutely conscious of a hot glow of excitement in her belly as he met her gaze calmly.

  “You can’t be serious,” she said slowly, but as he held her eyes with his own, she realized that he was.

  “Why not, Gabrielle? I think it might be a lot of fun. With the right woman, of course.”

  She had felt her cheeks begin to flush and dropped her eyes in embarrassment, stammering, “And you think…you think that I might be the…the right woman?”

  He reached out and pulled her into his arms, then his lips descended on hers in a long, sensual kiss.

  “I’m quite sure you could be,” he had replied at last, holding her at arm’s length, “but that’s up to you, isn’t it? What do you think?”

  Gabrielle hesitated for what seemed like an eternity, then, “Well…I suppose it could be fun, Matthew,” she had answered cautiously. “What exactly did you have in mind? I mean, what would I have to do? And what would I wear? I couldn’t very well pull you through the streets in a carriage, now could I? And anyway, I don’t even have any idea what those things weigh. I might not even be able to pull one. Especially with you riding in it.”

  Matthew held up a hand to stem the flow of questions, “Hey, steady on, Gabrielle.” He grinned. “Let’s not get carried away here. You haven’t told me yet whether you’ll even agree to be my pony-girl.”

  “Is that what I’d be? A pony-girl? I quite like that. It sounds, sort of, warm and cuddly, somehow. Like a teddy-bear.”

  Matthew had laughed, “Well, maybe just a bit. So, what do you say then? Do I get myself a pony-girl, or not?”

  Gabrielle had looked down to the arena where the chestnut mare was just completing the course, then looked back at her lover and given a nervous smile, “Let me get this absolutely straight, Matthew. You want me to let you put me in harness and make me pull you around in a carriage, just as if I was a real horse like that one down there?”

  “More of a pony, really,” he had corrected her smilingly, “but yes, that’s the basic idea.”

  Gabrielle had thought about it for a few seconds, wondering why she found the whole ridiculous idea so peculiarly thrilling, then grinned back at him. “I must be completely mad,” she told him, “but OK. If it’s what you really want, then I’ll try it. It sounds like it could be fun.”

  He had nodded and chuckled, “Oh, I’m quite sure it will be, Gabrielle,” and her belly had given a delicious kick as she agreed to do what he wanted.

  When he kissed her again and then took her back to his apartment for a long, energetic bout of incredible love-making, she had found herself continually aroused by the mere thought of being harnessed as a pony-girl with Matthew able to control her with a simple tug on the reins she would be wearing.

  Chapter Two

  On a Friday evening, some weeks after the Horse Show, Gabrielle returned to Matthew’s apartment where, as usual, he met her with a kiss and a gin and tonic. It was only after dinner, when she was comfortably snuggled up next to him on the soft couch, that he reached down to his briefcase and drew out a sheet of paper.

  The moment she saw the document and the predatory grin that lit up her lover’s face, she suspected what he was going to say and felt a powerful ripple of sexual excitement, mixed with deliciously fearful anticipation, swirl through her belly.

  “Is that… Is that what I think it is?” she asked slowly.

  Matthew nodded cheerfully, “Mmm, it is. If you still really want to be a pony-girl, that is, Gabrielle. It’s your choice, you know. You don’t have to.”

  “But I want to, darling. You know I do. We both want me to.”

  “Then it’s settled, isn’t it? There’s just one little thing,” Matthew chuckled. “This is a Bill of Sale, my sweet. It transfers ownership of Gabrielle Aston, a pony-girl, to Matthew Torrance, her new owner. It isn’t a legal transfer, of course, but if you sign it, I shall treat it as if it was. You will be
long to me and I will have the right to train you in any way I choose. If you agree, sign and date it at the bottom,” and he held out the document and a pen towards her.

  Gabrielle took the document and began to read it, then paused and grinned at her lover, “One pound?” she asked, looking at the figure for purchase price. “That’s pretty cheap for a pony-girl, isn’t it?”

  “Ah, but you are untrained, Gabrielle. I thought it was a fair price, but you don’t have to accept it if you think you are worth more.”

  “I’m quite sure I am,” she retorted, then giggled. “Oh well, in for a penny, in for…a pound, I suppose,” and with a flourish of the pen, scrawled her signature and the date across the bottom of the document.

  “Thank you,” he said and taking the paper from her, folded it carefully and placed it in his jacket pocket, then handed her a gleaming pound coin. “As agreed, this is what I owe you. So take good care of it.”

  He paused and grinned wickedly, “You never know, one day you might want to buy yourself back from me.”

  Gabrielle stared down at the shining coin in her palm and felt her nipples begin to stiffen and her sex moisten with desire to the idea of being owned by her lover.

  She understood, of course, that the Bill of Sale wasn’t legally binding, but she had signed it and held the proceeds of her sale in her hand, so technically she supposed, Matthew did now own her.

  Slowly, she raised her head to look up at his smiling face, “So, what happens now, darling?”

  “I think it’s time my new pony-girl was harnessed,” he chuckled softly. “And it just so happens that it was delivered earlier today. It’s in the bedroom. Shall we try it on you?”

  “But… But how did you know I’d agree? I might have said no.”

  “Mm. You might have…but you didn’t, did you? Come on, I can’t wait to see how you look.”

  As she accompanied her lover to the bedroom, Gabrielle’s excitement grew steadily higher, mixed with intense curiosity as to exactly what her harness would be like.

  Her answer came in the form of polished black leather and gleaming steel buckles and chains. As she stared open-mouthed at the equipment neatly arrayed on the duvet, Matthew chuckled again, “There you are, pony-girl. What do you think?”

  Stunned, Gabrielle walked slowly to the bed and inspected the pair of knee-length high-heeled boots he had chosen for her, then picked up the shining black basque, her nostrils twitching to the delicious scent of new leather and eyes wide as she felt its heavy boning.

  “This is all just beautiful, Matthew,” she said softly. “It must have cost a fortune.”

  “I am quite sure it will be well worth it,” he replied, “and I’m even more sure that you will be worth that pound I paid for you. Let me give you a hand to try it all on.”

  Gabrielle needed no urging and quickly stripped herself naked, then sat on the bed, pulled the boots on and stood up.

  “Wow,” she gasped, swaying slightly on the spike heels. “These are amazing, but a lot higher than I’m used to. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to wear them for you, darling.”

  Matthew chuckled, “I expect you’ll get used to them,” he replied grinning. “And they look great on you. Come on, let’s try the basque.”

  Gabrielle picked it up and held the leather against her slender body as Matthew stepped behind her and engaged the heavy-duty zip.

  “Stand up straight and breathe in, honey,” and as Gabrielle obeyed, he tugged the zipper upwards, encasing her in stiff and extremely tight steel reinforced leather from the top of her buttocks to her shoulder blades.

  It was only as the zip closed that Gabrielle realized that the basque left her buttocks and lower belly fully exposed, her breasts pushed forwards and up by its firm support, without being covered in any way whatever.

  “Oh, Matthew,” she began, but before she could say another word, his fingers slid around her compressed waist and captured her out-thrust nipples.

  A wordless gasp exploded from her as devastating jolts of electric arousal shot through her body and her instinctive response sent her own hands to his as if to pull his fingers away from her breasts.

  “Uh-uh, pony-girl,” he chuckled happily. “We can’t have that. Ponies don’t have hands and neither do naughty little pony-girls.” He released her breasts to pick up a long leather tube from the bed.

  Gabrielle stared at him and the leather in his hands and her belly burned with fierce heat as she saw the broad straps and heavy buckles stitched to the device.

  “What the heck is that thing?” she asked wonderingly. “What are you going to do?”

  “It’s called a single-arm glove and it will keep those fingers of yours out of trouble, my love,” Matthew answered with a grin. “Put your arms behind your back, please.”

  Gabrielle licked her lips nervously, suddenly understanding what the device was for, “You’re going to…to t-tie me up,” she stammered.

  He nodded. “I prefer to think of it as harnessing you,” he replied, “but, yes, the effect will be much the same.”

  “But… But… I’ll be h-helpless. I won’t be able to do…anything,” Gabrielle protested, intensely aware of swirling heat in her belly as she visualized herself bound and defenseless before Matthew.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” he corrected her. “You’ll be able to do lots of things. You’ll be able to trot and canter and obey the reins as I train you to be a pony-girl. You just won’t have any arms. Like a real pony.”

  He reached forward with his free hand and pulled her head towards him. As his lips met hers and his tongue probed her mouth with fiery passion, Gabrielle threw her arms around his neck and responded willingly, her tongue entwining with his to send still more arousal surging through her body.

  At last, Matthew broke away, “So, pony-girl,” he panted, “do I continue to harness you?”

  Gabrielle gazed into his smiling eyes, then turned and placed her hands behind her back, “Well, I am a pony-girl, aren’t I? You paid for me and it’s not for an owned pony to decide, now is it?” She turned her head to grin back over her shoulder at her lover.

  Matthew gave a great bark of laughter, then advanced towards her, “Quite right,” he agreed. “Now keep still and I’ll get on with it. Hands palm to palm, please.”

  As Gabrielle complied, the one pound coin, her purchase price, slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor.

  Matthew bent and retrieved it, “Careful, pony-girl,” he grinned, “if you lose this, you won’t have anything to buy yourself back from me, will you? Don’t worry, I’ll hold onto it until we sort out somewhere for you to keep it.”

  “OK,” Gabrielle agreed, then giggled and suggested, “maybe I won’t want to buy myself back, darling.”

  “Maybe not,” he replied, “but I’ll keep it safe just in case.”

  With that, he began to fit the leather tube over her hands and to her surprise, Gabrielle discovered that the bottom end of the tube was not, as she had assumed, open, but was a sort of reinforced bag into which her extended fingers fitted snugly.

  A broad leather strap drew tight around her wrists and as Matthew fastened the buckle, she found herself bound and unable to clench her fingers or even separate her palms. Only then did she begin to feel just a little bit nervous, as it dawned on her that she was a real prisoner and entirely dependent on Matthew.

  She trusted him, of course, but even so…

  “Um, Matthew, darling,” she said softly as he hurried to the bed and selected a pair of buckled cuffs. “Can we talk about this for a second? I’m not…not quite sure I really like all this and I’m a bit…well…scared.”

  “Trust me, honey. I know what I’m doing,” he assured her calmly. “Put your legs together and just relax.”

  Gabrielle hesitated, then did as her lover requested, her even white teeth nibbling at her lower lip as he buckled the straps firmly around each of her thighs, an inch or so above her knees.

  By the time she re
alized that each cuff had a steel ring inset into the leather and that he had locked them together with a steel clip, it was far too late for her to protest that she did not want her legs bound.

  Just how far was he going to take this, she wondered, and just how much more helpless did he intend to make her?

  He rose to his feet, “And now, pony-girl,” he said slowly, his lips curving into a ruthless smile that sent a shiver rippling up Gabrielle’s spine, “time for you to feel a bit between those pretty lips of yours.”

  “No,” she gasped squeakily, “No, Matthew. Please, darling. I-I’ve changed my mind. I really don’t th-think I can be a…a pony-girl for you. Just…just let me go, darling, and then you can make love to me, if you like.”

  “Oh, I do like,” he told her flatly, “but I shall be taking you rather than making love to you, I’m afraid. You don’t seem to understand yet, pony-girl. I own you. I bought you for a pound and I can and will do anything I like to you and with you. Believe me, Gabrielle, you are my pony-girl and you will obey me and serve me in any way I command. I fully intend to enjoy your body and there is nothing you are going to be able to do to prevent me.”

  The words, so calmly spoken, brought a low moan from Gabrielle’s lips as she heard Matthew’s plans for her and realized that he was perfectly serious. Incredible though it seemed, he really intended to hold her captive as his pony-girl and as Gabrielle’s brain spun and reeled to the implications of what that might mean for her future, he turned and snatched the bit-harness from the bed.

  For an instant, she froze and simply gaped at the steel and leather in his hand. Then she turned in panic-stricken flight towards the door of the bedroom only to find that with her knees hobbled an inch apart, teetering on high heels that unbalanced her and with her wrists bound behind her back, her headlong dash for freedom was reduced to a slow and clumsy shuffle that would have been hard put to outrun a tortoise.

  Before she had covered even a quarter of the distance, Matthew was already leaning with his back to the closed door, the bit-harness dangling from his hand and a smug smile on his face as she gazed desperately around to see if there was some other way to make her escape.