It turned out Lily and I were to have a lot of time to explore our enclosure. This also gave me first ample time to learn what went into a ponygirl's enclosure. On our first lap of the fence, I discovered we had been provided with water for our stay. A large bucket attached to a fence, position so one had to lean over to drink, just like the trough we drank from after being walked.
One post down from the water was another instrument for our comfort, a brush screwed into the pole. Its use was explained by Lily via demonstration, backing herself up against the brush and gyrating to have it rub her down. Effectively itching herself in the places we could not reach, was it turned were most places on our bodies. I followed up Lily at the scratching post with a definite sense of skepticism at its effectiveness, but which morphed into great pleasure as I found all those spots I hadn't realized
needed
to be scratched. This pulled from me satisfied ponygirl noises, seemingly much to Lily's amusement.
After this first loop taking the major accommodations of our enclosure, Lily simply kept going, continuing on to many more loops, and taking me along with her. In contrast to the loops on the hot walker, these were quite leisurely and each felt different from the last. And we didn't have to constantly walk. First Lily, and then later I, would occasionally stop when something caught our eye, prompting the other to stop and observe as well. On our first lap this was the watering and scratching post, but on subsequent laps these stops were for an interesting near by tree or simply taking in the view of the larger field behind the paddock.
This was also my chance to finally take an extended look at the sprawling area backing Catherine's property. Roughly a rectangle, longer by its length away from the house than its width across. Its long sides created by the green walls of the surrounding forest. With greater inspection, I later even saw interspersing surface of the forest's edge were occasional holes in the green where dirt paths from the field made entry.
Finally to the rear of the field and its bordering forest instead more slowly transition into an increasing scrub land growing up atop similarly growing hills. And like the forest I could see at serval points the brown streak of paths leading from the field proper into those bushy hills. Even atop some of the more distant hills I thought I could see trails cresting their peaks. Clearly Catherine's property held quite the trail network.
Now turning my attention back to our area, running out from the court yard our pen bordered was a kind of central gavel packed road, cutting a centreline down the length of the field. On either side of this path was several fenced in areas, much larger than the spaces I had been in so far. I estimated them to be approaching more the size of a soccer field. Within one even looked to be the oval of a racing track. Threading between these fences were smaller paths, reaching out to a perimeter loop of the field and occasionally branching off into the forest as I had seen earlier.
The last part of the field that caught my interest and study was a squat cottage about a quarter of the way down the field tucked into the edge of the forest. Quaint and complete with a porch and stone chimney. I guessed that this was Isabella's home, and as such it received a longer than usual look and ponder, imagining what its inside was like and if I would ever get to see it.
After many loops following the perimeter of our paddock's fence, I finally noticed the fence themselves. More specifically that it was just a plain wooden fence, made up of post and a couple wooden slates connecting them, reaching no higher than my chest. A fence I could've easily climbed over, that is if I was wearing normal clothes. But now, without my hands and the imprecision of my hooves, I could never hope to make it over. Another way my new form denied me any form of freedom.
Similarly when we passed by the gate Catherine and Isabella had brought us in by I noticed it was a simple leaver latch. One that could have been opened by just lifting the bar and pushing the fence gate open. Something any person could easily do. But once again I remember this simple action was now an impossibility for me, so what did that make me?
Lily on the other hand seemed to contain her inspection to within the paddock. While I had been gawking at the scenery, it seemed she had been taking in minute changes that had occurred since her last time in the paddock. Like one time she stopped to look intently at a post and my best guess for its interest was an area of paint that looked to have recently chipped.
Eventually both Lily and I seemed either satisfied or tired of walking and looking, and so came to rest near the water station which was conveniently near the shade of tree just outside of the fence. Here we rested, occasionally going for water, but generally just standing around, enjoying the company of each other.
During this break I discovered another benefit of the water bucket beyond keeping us hydrated. Being bolted halfway up its post, the lip of the bucket came to about hip height on us. Thus, confided by the tack, for one to get a drink they had to bend at the waist to nearly 90 degrees to bring their lips down the water's surface. For an observer this presented a wonderful display of the drinker's lower lips.
This position, with her leg planted wide, was my first real chance to take Lily in. Before she had been obscured by the straps that ran through she legs. Granted I had caught glimpses as I followed her around the walker, the high stepping of her legs revealing what was between, but the only served as enticement. Little visual tastes of something that looked delicious.
Thus when Lily bent over for a sip of water, I found myself frozen in place by my view. The round globe of her checks, bisected by the black lines of her tack, and at its centre her vagina in all its beauty. Eventually, my legs began to work again, but evidently not by brain, as I drifted forwards entranced. The hours of stimulation on my own sex while training clouding my reasoning down to a simplistic animal instinct of desire.
I came just feet away from Lily when she finished drinking and stood up. Turning around she found me, right in front of her, my eyes still downcast towards her sex, now once again hidden between her legs. Eventually my lack of a view made my mind finally catch up. A bit sheepishly I slide my gaze up her body, back up to her face. There I was met by a smirking grin, her triumphant at having caught be in the act. I in turn felt my blood rush up from my own nether regions into my face in embarrassment.
This did not seem to bother Lily though as she closed the gap between us. Just close enough for her nipples to now graze against mine. Brushing against one another as we breathed. Each becoming more erect through contact, bringing us millimetres closer still. But this slight increase in contact did not predict the corresponding massive increase in stimulation and sensitivity. Soon becoming a dance of firm against firm, and sending my mind down into the depths of attraction.
While my brain stalled out again, Lily took this stimulation further by stomping. Causing our chest to bump against each other with the greatest force and intensity yet. With a half functioning brain it took me a few seconds to register that she had stomped three times. A question.
Forcing myself to focus on her face, I saw what she was asking,
Are you okay with this?
In answer I went to stomp in reply, but in raising my leg, I hadn't accounted for our proximity, causing my inner thigh to slide up along the outside of hers. This send a shuttering shockwave through my body, causing my foot to come down in a stuttering
yes
. Granted, if I had my voice, I doubt my assent would have been any more elegant.
Now with my permission, it was Lily's turn to use her legs on me. Thrusting her knee well between my legs and using her upper thigh to muscle into my sex.
After spending the afternoon with the straps ever present between my legs, grazing along the edges of the my sex, the sudden direct contact of Lily's leg caused me to stagger back. But Lily followed, keeping up her pressure on my sex. This also worked to keep me up, providing a third leg to lean upon, when my two would have surely failed. The trade off to this was the further increase of pressure where my body met her leg as my body weight pushed myself harder into it. Thus, I was kept steady, if not stable.
Now with her leg firmly positioned between my own, Lily turned her focus to grinding it into the spot her had chosen. I in turn refocused up to Lily's face. The questioning softness I had seen before had been replaced with a more aggressive concentration. In those eyes I saw the same hunger that had been gnawing at me all day. It turned that the torture of the tack's pelvic straps did not go away with expirence, rather they were better endured. But Lily inverted my own dishevelment with her own expertise at working within our common bonds. Like walking, she was the proud and beautiful mare while I felt like the stumbling youngling.
