- People are ponies too
- Copyright Bound
- Warning! This story might contain
activities that might not be suitable in selfbondage. Please
- Pony play is something I have been thinking
about for most of my life, ever since seeing an illustration
of a fully harnessed horse in a dictionary. I drew all sorts
of harnesses, each more fantastic and exciting than the last.
I had some very elaborate fantasies revolving around pony play.
I had no idea that pony girls existed until much later. When
I did discover this, it was one of those pencil-dropping, wide-eyed,
"damn, I'm not the only one" moments. Isn't the Internet
- I dedicate this story to someone who has
come and gone, who could have had great potential had she been
allowed to progress and evolve among us; unfortunately, some
people with exceedingly poor judgment caused her to leave. She
probably didn't engage in pony play, but that is beside the point.
I will not forget her.
- It's also the last time the bad guys win.
- You can call me Kim. Or by another name,
Sparkle. Either will do, the first is my real name, the second
is a name I respond to when I become someone, or something else.
How Sparkle entered my life is a story that I have to share.
- University is tough. I finally earned
my doctorate, and I can start working in my selected career,
as a psychotherapist. All those years of shutting out all else,
maintaining absolute control, concentrating on learning everything
there is to know about my future profession, and even inventing
new ways of applying that, finally bears fruit. But there is
a lot of stress, tension, countless ups and downs, fighting,
clawing and scratching to make it to the top.
- I have been interested in bondage and
such things from an early age, I can't even remember when exactly.
I know I was fascinated by the women who were frequently being
tied up on television, in detective stories, and comic books.
I felt a certain envy for them, and got to experience their situation
to some degree when playing cops and robbers, or cowboys and
indians, with the neighborhood kids. Those days have passed,
but I still enjoy being bound, and gagged, and a little bit of
pain. I used bondage as a release for my tensions during my college
years, it was very therapeutic. I continue to tie myself up for
the same reasons, and for pure enjoyment, of course!
- I had landed a dream position with a reputable
institution, but it wasn't open for another few months. Fortunately,
spending time helpless waiting for one's release cultivates one's
patience. I would wait, because I don't know where I would end
up if I looked elsewhere - like going for one's emergency release,
it could be yuckier than expected. With over three months of
free time ahead of me, I was looking for something to change
my ideas a bit, to really relax, let go, let loose.
- I was chatting over coffee with my friend
Silvia, one who occasionally shares some bondage sessions with
me. I was poring over some brochures to spas and resorts, and
Silvia noticed that I seemed dissatisfied with the mundane nature
of these establishments. She knew for some time I was looking
for somewhere to get away.
- "Kim, I know how you like bondage
and such, and how you use it to relax. I don't know how you do
it, but that's another matter. I have a suggestion for your escape
from the rat race."
- I looked up at her, puzzled. "What?"
She pulled out an elaborately decorated brochure, very elegant,
almost Victorian in style, with gold and silver filigrees and
flourishes. On the front fold was printed, in calligraphic lettering,
"Liberty Stables". A photo of an immaculately clean
house, with equally spotless stables and perfectly groomed grounds
in the background, adorned the front fold too.
- "Horse riding? There are at least
two of the resorts in my pile that have that." I said grumpily.
Silvia opened the brochure, and I froze when I saw the photo
on the inside. "Not horses, Kim. Ponygirls." My jaw
dropped. I was speechless as I read on. And getting goosepimply
all over. In a good way.
- After a couple of paragraphs, I looked
back up at Silvia. "May I keep this?" I said in an
euphoric tone, half aroused and half scared out of my wits (the
way I love to feel when tied up). "By all means, Kimmy.
Take it home, read it, think about it. My feeling is this is
exactly what you need - to let go, completely, to escape into
another world." Deep down in my heart, I knew she was right.
I just had to let the rest of my brain catch up. "Thanks...
I'll think about it."
- I couldn't sleep. I sat up in bed, my
bedside table lamp on, reading the pamphlet. My skin was peppered
with goosebumps, and I had this euphoric feeling in my mind,
a bit like being stuck in molasses, mesmerized, as I imagined
what was described. I had always dreamed of being a ponygirl.
Though the prices were steep, everything was included and there
were several plans offered from a simple weekend getaway to a
prolonged stay of any duration. There was one two-month package
that I found appealing. I could afford it, and then some; I was
by no means destitute, even after my long years of studies. And
once I started working, I would be secure.
- I finally fell asleep with the brochure
- The next day, I fired off an e-mail inquiry
regarding the available plans and what was included in the price.
I received a response almost immediately - that impressed me.
If there is anything I appreciate about any commercial establishment,
it's prompt service. Even if this establishment was quite unusual.
The response was an offer to come to my home to discuss it -
even more impressive. As requested, I phoned them, and set up
an appointment at home at ten a.m. in two days. Two days...
- I was bubbling with excitement, scurrying
from one end of the house to the other repeatedly like a kid
waiting for Christmas to arrive. I called Silvia to tell her
about the appointment. She was happy for me, and said that I
wouldn't regret it.
- On the second day, at ten o'clock sharp,
a large black limousine pulled up in front of the house. Its
black-tinted windows left no hint at who was inside. The uniformed
driver got out, and rounded the vehicle before going to the rear
passenger door. He opened it, and stood stiffly at attention
as the sole passenger got out of the car with a small briefcase.
She was tallish, wore dark sunglasses, and was immaculately dressed
in a black jacket, brilliant white blouse, and a black leather
pencil skirt that hugged her black-stockinged legs tightly down
to just above the knees. Her sky-high stiletto pumps were polished
black, perfectly reflective. Her waist was unnaturally tiny,
betraying the presence of a very tight corset.
- As she approached, I could see more details
of her. She was in her forties, well-preserved, with dark hair
down to her shoulders. She wore little makeup, just enough to
enhance her sharp features. She looked like she was all business.
Before she was up to the door, I had opened it and was waiting
- "Good morning, ma'am." I said
cheerily as she gracefully climbed the three steps up to the
porch, despite her high heels and tight skirt. She extended her
hand and smiled politely, and I took it as she introduced herself.
- "Good morning to you, Miss Kimberly.
I am Heather J. Spencer, president of Liberty Stables. May I
come in?" I had just noticed the little horseshoe-shaped
lapel pin on her tightly tailored jacket. "Of course, Ms.
- It had just dawned on me that this elegant
lady, the president herself, had traveled halfway across the
continent just to see me, to talk about something I hadn't even
signed up for - yet. That mere fact impressed me a lot. I led
her to the living room and we sat down. She did so gracefully
and slowly, taking off her sunglasses, and her eyes were just
as black as the limousine she arrived in. Her manner was delicate
and polite, yet her tone was firm and assured.
- "Our establishment has been in existence
for thirty years." she began. So she wasn't the first president.
"It is a family business, and we take pride in our ability
to take care of our guests and provide them with all that they
need during their stay." I nodded understanding, nervously.
- She explained to me in detail the various
plans. It was the full training and grooming program that I liked,
since I wanted to know all there is to know about being a ponygirl.
I asked her about this, indicating my interest in learning the
fine art of equine life.
- "That, my dear, is our best program.
You come in as an untrained pony, and you will go through an
intensive training regimen, living like a pony, literally, in
the stables, tended to by our best trainers. All is provided
to you - food, drink, lodgings, equipment. You will be trained
in proper pony gait, deportment, behavior and performance. And
when it is all over, whatever gear, restraints, harnesses and
tack you have been provided with in the course of your pony training
is yours, excepting any fixed equipment at Liberty Stables. Any
personal effects lost or damaged are replaced. Any injuries will
be cared for at our expense. Any home expenses, bills, etc. will
be managed by our caretakers." She gazed down at my cat,
purring loudly as she rubbed against the woman's legs. She usually
didn't like strangers. "We will even feed your cat. For
the two months you specified, you will have no concerns other
than just being a ponygirl. Absolute freedom from all the cares
of the world."
- That euphoric feeling returned to me,
as well as a slight moisture between my legs. The entire concept
turned me on more than I expected. And it was exactly what I
was looking for - no cares for two months, a total release from
the iron self-control and total concentration I had to practice
for years. I only had to let myself go, let myself be led, to
live the simple life of a pony. Heather J. Spencer watched me
as I stared at the array of documents laid out on the coffee
table. Her perfectly painted lips smiled faintly as she saw my
blank, deer-in-the-headlights expression and my short, rapid
breaths. She knew a sale when she saw one.
- I had no idea how long I sat there making
a fool of myself, I tried to answer her, but no words came out.
Her firm but gentle voice prodded me out of my reverie. "Pardon
me?" she asked. "Oh, sorry, Ms. Spencer. I was... thinking."
The faint smile returned. "Yes. I mean I'll take the full
program. Two months. Please."
- The elegant president of Liberty Stables
pulled out a contract, already filled in with what I had wanted.
She knew already what I had planned, what my heart cried for.
I read it as a precautionary measure, to be absolutely certain
of what I was getting into, even if I wanted this more than anything
in the world. I pulled out my cheque-book. I wrote the cheque,
for the full amount. The contract said the fee was non-refundable
after the first two weeks had passed, so I looked carefully at
the documents before I put my final signature at the bottom of
the first page of the contract. I committed myself.
- I filled out a medical questionnaire also,
which is understandable given the fact that I will be more treated
as a horse than a human for two months.
- I was given instructions a few days later,
in an envelope delivered by courier. There was a first-class
airline ticket, full return fare, in the envelope. The instructions
were simple: the next weekend, I was to go to the airport, take
the scheduled flight to my destination. I was to take along only
minimal baggage. What was that? I was going for two months -
then I remembered that everything was provided. I did provide
to take about two weeks worth of underwear, and a few changes
of casual clothing, just in case. I could wash them at any laundromat
if the need arose.
- I followed the instructions. I went to
the airport, went through the customary security measures, entrusted
my baggage to the airport's handling facilities, and boarded
my flight. It was uneventful, and though it was not my first
trip by air, I felt a certain exhilaration.
- I recovered my baggage intact (wow) at
my destination, and a black limousine was waiting to take me
to my first destination, a small but elegant hotel on the outskirts
of town. I was to wait there for my ride to Liberty Stables,
the next day. I enjoyed the luxurious accommodations fully, on
my last day as a regular human woman for the next two months.
- The "rooms" were actually small
cottages scattered across a large property. Each was secluded,
isolated by hedges and bushes. It was delightfully quiet.
- There was an envelope with my name at
the front desk, and it contained more documents. One was a detailed
program of activities. The first two weeks were basic training,
and lots of bondage. I smiled with satisfaction at that. I was
hoping for the most intense experience, and I was going to put
myself into it. Those two weeks were the time it would take to
make my pony gear: latex catsuit (for lack of a better word,
because pony suit brings to mind those ridiculous two-part costumes
where one person is the horse's back end...), body harnesses
of various configurations, corsets, bridles, hoof-boots (essentially
heel-less high heels with wide toes), and a list of other hardware,
including custom restraints, that made me tingle in excited arousal.
It dawned on me that since this equipment was made for me, I
would be taking it home... More than ever, I wanted to go through
- I showered, enjoying the hot jets of water
on my smooth skin. The hotel had exquisitely scented soaps which
I took full advantage of. When I was finished, I smelled wonderful.
I went to bed, in the nude, covering myself in the soft, slippery
silk sheets. I felt totally pampered. I slept fitfully, the excitement
of the coming day causing me to toss and turn the entire night.
I dreamed of frolicking among horses in a mountain valley meadow
filled with spring flowers.
- I woke to a polite but insistent knocking
at the door. I rose and quickly donned a bathrobe before checking
the peephole. Two women dressed in riding clothes waited at the
door. I opened the door and greeted them. "Kim?" they
enquired. "That's me." I answered somewhat groggily.
"I'm Gwen and this is Trudy, your trainers. Are you ready?"
I was stunned. "Now?" I asked, incredulous, looking
down at my bathrobe. "Let me at least get some clothes on..."
The one nearest me, Gwen, shook her head. "That won't be
necessary, Miss. And your belongings will be taken care of. Please
remove your bathrobe and follow us to the transport vehicle."
She gestured toward a pickup truck, with a horse trailer attached.
I blinked. "You want me to ride in there?" She smiled,
"It's part of the package. The whole experience. It is not
far. Only an hour's drive."
- I thought for a few seconds, and then
realized that I was to be a pony from beginning to end. I looked
left and right, just to see if there was anyone who could see
my in my unclothed state. "No one can see you from here,
Kim." I took a deep breath, and dropped my bathrobe. "All
right, I am a pony now." I stepped out of the cottage and
into the fresh morning air. I felt a certain exhilaration at
the exposure, increasing as I approached the trailer's rear.
Trudy opened the trailer, and helped me in, as Gwen went to board
- Inside, I was told to stand still, as
Trudy started putting some light restraints and a crude bridle
on me. She explained that these were temporary and not part of
my eventual pony gear, just for transport. I giggled with excitement
as my arms were box-tied behind me, my legs hobbled by a short
chain, and a collar put on. The collar, bridle and ankle cuffs
were chained to the sides of the trailer. I was advised to stay
down on the floor of the trailer, back against the front wall,
for my safety. Trudy padlocked the door of the trailer and headed
to the passenger side of the pickup truck.
- During the drive, the experience of being
bound helpless in a horse trailer caused me some arousal, in
addition to the thrill of being in that state mere feet away
from passing cars, trucks, buses, and the occasional pedestrian.
At one red light, I heard a young girl, maybe five or six years
old, on the curb ask her mother insistently to "see the
horsey". I suppressed the urge to giggle, as these people
were only a couple of feet beyond the wall of the trailer. Well,
once I would start giggling, it would quickly degenerate into
a roll-on-the-floor belly laugh of unprecedented proportions.
I was having the time of my life.
- After about an hour, the towing vehicle
and trailer slowed and we turned off the main road. By the pattern
of light and shadow, I figured we were on a tree-lined road.
We stopped, and I heard a buzzer. An intercom box squawked something
unintelligible from my position, and I heard Gwen answer, "We
have our guest aboard." Another squawk from the intercom
and I heard some metal gates opening. The truck moved forward,
pulling me and my trailer inside. I heard the gates close again.
- It was only a few minutes before we stopped
again, and I heard the pickup's doors open. My heart was pounding
- Trudy and Gwen were there to get me out.
They unlocked the tethers and helped me out. "Come on, pony!
Giddyup!" I giggled, drooling over my bit, as I stepped
out of the trailer. I put on a little show and pulled on the
leads, whinnying and snorting. "Oh, a spunky one!"
said Gwen cheerily, as she pulled me hard, playing the game.
Now I was really enjoying myself.
- The grounds were like a real stable's,
spacious, but very clean, and quite well groomed. In the distance
I could see some other ponygirls being trained, some with full
bodysuits and heavy harnesses, and others that were just about
naked, like me. Trudy gave me a gentle slap on my bum, "You'll
frolic with the other ponies later. Come along and we'll get
you settled in.
- I was taken to a large barn-like building,
inside which was an area about twenty feet square where I was
fitted with a very heavy metal collar attached to heavy chains,
arranged so I would be held in the center of the room. My arms
were still box-tied behind me, and the hobble chain still fettered
my ankles. The collar forced my head erect, and it was a snug
fit around my neck. I pulled on the chains, managing only a couple
of inches of movement.
- I was left there for about fifteen minutes,
alone, while Gwen and Trudy were off doing whatever they were
supposed to do. The returned with Madam Spencer herself, but
this time she was attired in some very tight-fitting black leather
riding clothes, including a riding crop and a pair of stiletto-heeled
boots that would have made me drool had I not been doing so already
because of the bit between my teeth.
- "So here is our new arrival."
she began, in her businesslike tone. "Nice long mane. Looks
healthy and strong, and seems to have a lot of energy."
she continued as she walked around me slowly, ducking the chains,
inspecting me. "Energy that will be put to good use with
proper training. What have we here?" she asked, punctuating
the question with a light snap of her crop on my left butt cheek.
She had noticed my tattoo. "A sprinkling of sparkling stars."
she remarked nonchalantly. Actually, it was a representation
of the Pleiades, a cluster of stars seen in wintertime. I had
that tattooed after seeing that cluster through the college's
telescope. "We will call her Sparkle." Gwen agreed.
"That's a nice name. I like it." I whinnied and snorted
my agreement, nodding as much as the collar could allow. "Our
new pony seems to agree. All right, take care of her. Give her
a stall and whatever she needs. She is yours to train."
I felt another snap on my right butt cheek before I heard the
sharp tapping of the scrumptious stilettos fading into the distance.
- Sparkle was born.
- Before I was released from the collar,
there were a few other formalities to tend to. I was thoroughly
measured, like I had never been measured before, and in places
where I had never been measured before. The gear used on a pony
at Liberty Stables was custom-fitted to each guest, and belonged
to her when her stay ended.
- Trudy came out with a portable tattooing
machine. She sat down and explained, "I'm going to tattoo
the initials of Liberty Stables on your right butt cheek, since
your left one is already occupied by the stars." As she
began the process, she said, slowly and deliberately, pausing
as she applied each stroke, "Once you come to Liberty Stables...
you... never really leave. Actually... Liberty Stables remains
within you..." She wiped the area clean and covered it with
an adhesive bandage. "That will come off soon." Trudy
withdrew, calling out to Gwen, "Okay, she's ready!"
- My trainers removed the chains and the
steel collar, finally liberating me. They also untied my arms,
which were getting a bit cramped up because of the position and
immobility. More rope was produced, and it was used not to restrain
me, but to create a sort of body harness. It was an interim measure,
until I received my real pony gear.
- Gwen pulled at my reins and led me out
of the inspection and preparation area, and back outside in the
morning sunlight. The air was fresh and clean, and the sun bathed
and warmed my skin pleasantly. I remembered what Madam Spencer
had said, "absolute freedom from all the cares of the world".
- I was returned to reality by Gwen's voice.
"Let's see what you have in you, Sparkle." She let
out the reins some, and jerked them a little. Trudy was by my
side, watching me. I started trotting along, trying to emulate
what I had seen in videos off the Internet. "Forearms up."
Trudy coaxed, gently tapping my wrists with her crop. I complied.
Gwen remarked, "She has some natural talent. A little faster,
Sparkle!" I obliged, increasing my pace. "Keep those
legs bending up high!" With the increased speed, I tended
to neglect my gait form.
- The entire first day was occupied with
this kind of evaluation of my abilities and capacities. A light
lunch just kept me filled, but by supper, I was famished as I
was led to my stall, inside the stable building. This facility
was kept at a constant temperature, and meticulously maintained
to very strict cleanliness standards. My stall was about four
feet by seven feet, a narrow cot on one side, and a small table
on the other. Trudy showed me the door to the toilet at the back
of the stall. It was spartan, but adequate. What else would I
need? I was a pony, after all!
- The meal, by no means extravagant, was
filling and very nourishing. I ate it heartily, the whole day
of prancing around, out in the open air, had my stomach screaming
for food. The other side effect of this outdoor activity was
blissful exhaustion. I fell sound asleep soon after my meal,
curled up under my blankets, dreaming of open fields, and the
sound of hoofbeats.
- The next two weeks were just about the
same routine: eating, sleeping, training. Gwen and Trudy gently
coaxed me along, sharpening my skills at properly executing each
gait. It was very important for some gaits that I bring my knee
up to hip level at each step, and in all cases, that I execute
each step gracefully, almost like a dancer. I finally put the
ballet training I received as a girl to good use. There were
some other "tenants" of the Stables that were hopelessly
clumsy, or were staccato-like in their movements, even if technically,
they performed them well.
- My mind was at peace, even euphoric. I
just let myself drift into being a pony, becoming Sparkle in
my heart as well as in the flesh. In the second week, the daily
routine included bondage, involving lots of rope. I particularly
enjoyed that, of having this attention on me. That's about it
- being tied up is literally being the center of attention. When
I tie myself up, I become the center of my own little universe,
completely helpless, alone except for the companionship of the
ropes. At the same time, my training started to include partial
bondage, mostly immobilizing my arms in one position or another.
The most common was the box-tie, but I also enjoyed the dragonfly
sleeve, and especially the reverse prayer, uncomfortable but
extremely arousing for me.
- Once a week, I was put outside for a few
hours in an enclosure, arms bound behind me, my ankles hobbled,
an improvised rope bridle holding a dowel between my teeth. No
training, just roaming around with other pony girls. I made the
acquaintance of Sarah, alias Honey, a petite young woman with
a sunny disposition and quite some talent. I learned that she
was a repeat guest, on her third visit to Liberty Stables. She
came here for a couple of weeks every summer, to unwind, to cast
all her cares away. She was clad in a very elaborate pony harness,
over a slick black latex body suit, her long, flaming orange
hair falling behind her like a fiery mane. Oh, did I envy her.
- Honey's story struck a chord within my
heart, and I started to understand Trudy's remark about one never
really leaving Liberty Stables. You get hooked. Honey started
with a short stay, three years ago. The next year, she came back
for a long stay, similar to mine. That's when she got her pony
name. And discovered the blissful pleasures of being Honey. She
also enjoyed bondage very much. We vowed to keep in touch after
this was all over.
- I liked Honey very much and it would be
a shame to lose touch with her.
- My envy of Honey's pony gear did not last
long. The next day, I was led by the improvised reins for the
last time to the fitting room, to get fitted with my full pony
harness and other accessories. The mere sight of the gear, carefully
laid out on the table, made me shiver in delight.
- The slick black latex body suit went on
first. It had a zippered crotch, allowing use of various toys
and other devious accessories to increase my pleasure, or torment,
whichever tickled my fancy at that particular moment. The tight
embrace of the latex felt really, really nice. The corset was
put around my waist next, but with a protective black tube of
stretchy cloth to keep the corset from damaging the latex underneath.
I loved the increasing pressure as the laces were drawn, shaping
my waist and lower chest into a more curvaceous form. A black
latex hood over my head, with allowed my hair through out the
back, like Honey's, and left my face open.
- A high, stiff posture collar, with rings
all around, encircled my neck. It had soft cloth on the inside
to protect the latex, like the corset. I could turn my head now,
but I wasn't able to nod anymore.
- Before I was further disabled, the pony
boots were put on my feet. They were shaped like a horse's hooves
at the toe end, and had no heel. But there was a metal horseshoe
built in, and I liked the sound it made as it clapped on the
hard wood floor.
- For rendering my arms useless - ponies
didn't have hands or arms, just legs - there were three options.
One was a very formidable looking armbinder, all leather, with
heavy shoulder straps, laced closed and further secured with
a half-dozen heavy buckles along the length of the apparatus.
It looked both frightening and incredibly exciting. That was
tried first, for fit. Trudy and Gwen asked how far I wanted them
to cinch it down, and I smiled, and said, "All the way,
please." They pulled and yanked at the straps, and my elbows
were almost touching inside. "How is it, Sparkle?"
- The second one was another armbinder,
but it was box-shaped and held my arms inside across my back.
It was also attached to me with heavy straps. A test fitting
confirmed it was correctly fabricated and ready for me to use
- The last one, that they would leave on
me for now, were hoof-gloves. Long latex sleeves tipped with
hooflike appendages almost identical to the toes of my pony boots.
Now I was fully transformed into a pony girl. My hands were useless,
so I could no longer escape my new identity. I felt a strong
shiver throughout my body, like a powerful electric charge, at
the realization that I had crossed the line from being just another
naked human woman in bondage to a hybrid creature, a chimera,
a delectable little cross-breed of human and equine parentage.
I danced around a bit in glee, much to my trainers' amusement.
- Calming down, the rest of the gear came
on. A full harness, heavy and elaborate, with studs and rings
and buckles, metal breast cups that could be removed, and a wonderful
smell of fresh leather. I have this thing about fresh leather.
I bought a pair of fine Italian leather boots a couple of years
ago, and startled the clerk with my reaction to the scent when
she opened the box. I took a deep breath now, inhaling the wonderful
odor of the harness, and growled sensually as I exhaled that
breath. Gwen and Trudy didn't seem fazed - they probably have
seen many react like this.
- A bridle that not only imprisoned my head
in straps and buckles and rings, but also was attached to the
posture collar in such a manner that I could no longer turn my
head. The rubber-sheathed bit held my mouth slightly open, and
I was drooling a bit. Blinders limited my field of view to straight
ahead. I felt my identity slip slowly back to Sparkle, the pony.
Reins were attached to the bridle, and Trudy coaxed me gently
to a trot around the fitting room, the metal shoes on my hooves
clapping sharply on the hard floor, resonating pleasantly, the
scent of leather and latex permeating my senses, the close grip
of my attire stimulating every square inch of my skin.
- I don't know how long my mind drifted
into another world, but I heard Trudy calling my pony name, which
pulled me out of my reverie. "How about a little trot outside,
Sparkle?" I answered with my best whinny and a smile that
didn't require words. My forearms were attached to the shoulder
straps with padlocks, rendering my arms completely useless. A
tug on the reins urged me forward, and soon I was out in the
crisp morning air, proudly trotting along the road that ran through
the large grounds, contented beyond my wildest dreams.
- My first trot outside in my new gear revealed
a bit of clumsiness in my gait and posture. My trainers took
steps to remedy that. I was to be taken for training on the treadmill.
That sounded innocuous enough. But this training would be with
my full pony gear, and with the various arrangements for immobilizing
- The first session was with the monoglove
arm binder. It was laced closed and the straps cinched as far
as they could be taken down. My arms were pulled severely back,
projecting my bust forward. To ensure my safety, my harness was
attached to an overhead frame in case I tripped and fell. I was
assured that if there was any excess weight put on the suspension
chains, an automatic shutoff would stop the treadmill instantly.
- Trudy started the treadmill off slowly,
a slow walking pace, so I could get accustomed to the movement.
Gwen was gently snapping a crop on my butt, coaxing me to get
into my pony gait, each step bringing my thigh up, perpendicular
to my body, and then back down again. The speed was slowly increased
to get me incrementally up to the proper pace, while keeping
the proper form. This went on for twenty minutes, followed by
a ten minute break, and then back to trotting for another twenty
minutes, and so on. One thing I did appreciate was the design
of the crotch strap of the harness. It massaged my... nether
regions... quite pleasantly as I trotted along. Let's say that
I found that somewhat addictive, and motivated me to keep going.
- Each day, I spent a half day on the treadmill,
each day switching the arm binding from the monoglove to the
box to the hooves pinned to my shoulders.
- After a week of this, treadmill time was
cut in half and I was taken outside for the rest of the time.
According to my trainers, I was making excellent progress. Another
week passed, and I was started on pulling a light sulky, Gwen
or Trudy riding in it.
- A highly unusual thing happened in the
fifth week of my stay, on the treadmill. Once I was hooked in
and trussed up, my arms tightly bound in the monoglove, the crotch
strap of my harness was undone and the zipper opened, revealing
my lower bodily orifices. Trudy explained, "You have excelled
quite nicely so far, so we're going to add some... difficulty...
to the training." I had signed up for the full treatment,
as it were, so I whinnied my approval. Smooth, cold metal touched
my pussy, and entered inside me. I couldn't see down because
of the collar and bridle that immobilized my head. "That's
a pussy hook, Sparkle darling." I giggled through the bit.
A chain was pulled up to a spring just ahead of me on the overhead
frame, pulling the hook up and forward. This was the first time
I had experienced this, and though the sensation was odd and
highly unusual, it excited and aroused me intensely.
- The treadmill was started, and I began
the routine of doing my proper gait and trying as hard as I could
to maintain my posture with that hook pulling, moving and shifting
unnervingly inside me. That worked deviously in concert with
all the other gear that bound and cinched me. The speed increased
slowly until I reached my trotting pace. Then slightly faster,
where I changed gaits to adapt. The pussy hook worked relentlessly
on my self-control. I was panting and grunting, sometimes growling
as the irresistible and inescapable stimuli drove me closer and
closer to the brink of an orgasm. This lasted about ten minutes,
before the treadmill slowed down again and finally stopped. I
let out a guttural roar of satisfaction, breathing quickly and
deeply as I recovered. I froze as I heard a male voice, peculiarly
accented, say, "I like her. Can she be ready in three weeks?"
Then I heard another familiar voice, one I hadn't heard since
the day I arrived. The voice of Heather J. Spencer. "Yes,
I believe she can be made ready for you by then. If she agrees."
"I most certainly hope she does. She has a lot of potential
as a model."
- The president of Liberty Stables came
into my limited field of view. "My dear Sparkle. One of
our regular... clients... I would say, is very impressed with
your appearance and ability to perform. Once you are freed from
this machine I wish to see you, to make you a proposal. Gwen!
Trudy! Release her from this and have her led to my office, and
remove the bit, please." Ms. Spencer trotted off on her
stiletto heels, which I heard resonating through the corridor
until she left the building.
- I was taken down from the treadmill, my
crotch zipper closed again, and led along by the reins, my arms
still pinned solidly behind me in the monoglove, elbows touching
inside. I instinctively trotted along in proper pony fashion,
legs raised high and gracefully and then lowered down, each step
making a resounding metallic thud as the horseshoes hit the hard
floor. A short walk from the stables to the main building, a
Victorian style house, elegantly decorated and meticulously maintained.
Inside, I was led to Ms. Spencer's office, and Trudy told me
to remain standing, to wait for her. The bit was unhooked from
the bridle, and I worked my jaw back into place as I waited.
- It was not long. Heather J. Spencer appeared
a few minutes later. "Pardon my tardiness, Miss Kimberly."
This was the first time since I arrived that I was called by
my human name. I almost forgot that it was me that she was talking
to. "It's all right, ma'am", I reassured her. "What
is this proposal you want to make?"
- She went back to business. "As I
had mentioned before, a client, or rather a collaborator of Liberty
Stables, is impressed with you. He knows about your penchant
for bondage and pony play. He comes by once in a while, to see
if there is some talent for his business, and send some of his
models here for pony training. We have an informal arrangement."
- "He runs a place that is rather difficult
to describe. It employs models, regular and occasional, to..."
she hesitated, "how can I say this, ride? Yes, ride. To
ride some of his contraptions that ally strict bondage and sexual
stimulus, while being filmed and photographed. The videos and
photos are published on the internet, for paying subscribers."
I started to have an idea of who she was referring to. I had
some fantasies of "riding" some of his devices. "I
believe I know who you are talking about." I said, a tingling
feeling peppering my body.
- "Good. He likes your style, your
appearance, your performance, and would like you to be one of
his models." My eyes widened, and my expression went blank.
"There is no pressure, Miss Kimberly. You need not accept,
though it is of my opinion that you could benefit from even an
occasional appearance at his facilities." I was conflicted.
Though I didn't object to this man's work, and even fantasized
about being subjected to it, I was worried about the exposure
and its effects on my career. I was a little nervous about that.
"Can I think about it, before I give my answer?" "By
all means. I suggest you make haste, because there will be some
changes to your training and equipment to fully prepare you.
Do not worry, all your original equipment will still be yours,
along with the new gear." She paused, and I nodded. "I'll
sleep on it." "Good. Trudy! Sparkle is all yours!"
- The story continues in part two: Hoofbeats:
People are ponies too 2
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