Summerset County

All characters featured are over 18 or older. Any resemblance to real persons or other real-life entities is purely coincidental. All characters and other entities appearing here are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, dead or alive, or other real-life entities, past or present, is purely coincidental.

Author's Note

Wow! 4K views! Thank you to everyone for taking time to read my story! ♥

This story is written based off the events of a private roleplay (RP). It takes place entirely in a semi-modern setting with certain fantasy elements, cast in the backdrop of a non-descript countryside that is a mix between North American and central Italian landscapes. Casual kink is prevalent to this setting, whereupon willing slaves may freely submit themselves to the whims of the local populace, and quite often find solace through the intense activities involved.

There is a deliberate absence of spoken conversations which is deliberate. The narrative is meant to be followed as if through the eyes of a distant observer as if from a voyeur point of view. It is through such a lenses of these events and activities from which the narrative takes precedence. -- L/B

PREVIOUSLY

The protagonist begins his service in the remote countryside of Summerset County, whereupon he is introduced to his riders; two girls his equal in age, locals to the region, curious but eager to use their new companion.

As he is driven across the farmlands with their freight and produce, he encounters a host of minor characters including others that will return in future appearances. His presence is unusual- trained slaves, pony or otherwise, remain a rare sight in this scenic locale. Despite these circumstances he makes a particular introduction to the locals as he continues to chauffeur his new patrons in their cart.

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Wherein the nameless pony/slave tours the region of the surrounding hillsides with his riders; the gathering at the Farmer's Meet and their arrival; an encounter within his pony stall, observed by many; a chance meeting with a transgender girl; concluding with a short breakaway from his long bondage but in respectful silence.

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Orchard Farms

Warm sunlight bears down upon the stretch of farmlands, seperated by hedge rows, cast across an expanse of hillsides as far as the eyes can see. In the distance are smoke pillars rising from thatched cottages and ranches secluded at the edges of tree groves and orchard yards. An immense stretch of blue sky is cast against rolling cloud banks curled like handfuls of white cotton. Down below on the dusty roadsides a young blonde woman pushes her bicycle by the lane then lifts her head slowly towards the sound of hooves clopping audibly.

Through the haze of the humid air, her eyes settle on the sight of a fair skinned young man with a slender figure. His naked skin is unblemished by the open sun, bathed underneath its clear light to appear illuminated in quality. Around his neck is a black posture collar, fixing his chin to keep his face visible; a perfect blend of youthful masculinity and the qualities of feminine traits, full green eyes, soft clips clasped about a bit-gag in his mouth. On each side of his eyes are square blinders that limit his vision, his eyes peering ahead as if in a state of trance, pupils fixed on the road directly ahead.

Black leather and lace cling to his limbs, arms neatly folded at the elbows behind his back, a garter belt fastened around his narrow hips. She notices that each of his arms are visibly cuffed in leather circlets, clearly restrained. The straps of his garters are affixed to the edges of an unseen garment, black fishnets, hidden beneath a pair of black thigh high boots. Each of his steps are graceful, lifting his knees high then lowering them in fluid motion; an audible clop produced upon stepping, like that of an actual equine.

The sight of semi-naked stud naturally draws her eyes towards the space between his legs and towards his perceived manhood. Instead she catches sight of the transparent sheath coating over its shape, leaving only his shaved sack exposed, encased in tight chastity. Behind the pony's hips sways a replica horse tail whose root appear to begin from the cleft of his backside, its texture a matching chestnut to the messy locks of hair spilling past his brows.

As the young woman pushes her bicycle to the side as her eyes follow after this particular sight, her eyes move towards the large wooden cart which is towed by the ponyboy. Around the flat of his navel is a large leather piece where multiple eyelets are woven in crisscross lacing, heavy steel rings hanging with long leather straps attached and running behind towards the cart's drivers.

The drivers mounted behind him are two young women approximately his same age, a blonde and an older brunette girl, sit together on the padded seat roughly three feet above and behind his position; the younger blonde holds his reigns for the time being, smiling down as she regards the cyclist who smiles after them silently. Her companion, the older brunette, glances over her shoulder as they pass then wave after her as the cart continues along in the same direction.

The sounds of the wagon in motion and the clopping hooves are joined by the growing raggedness of the pony's breath. His pale skin is hot to touch, the product of his laborious activity and the heat of his leather accessories. His teeth bear down against the material of his leather bit, swallowing excess drool, panting as he tows the cart behind him. Both the girls are silent but observant, periodically flicking his reigns to drive him onwards down the isolated road.

Around them are long rows of wooden fencing that separate long acres of orchard groves on each side of the dusty road. Here there are numerous olive and nut farms neatly arranged into seemingly endless rows and sections. The blinders prevent the pony from distraction. The cart passes by a pair of young men in overalls conversing by a fence who glance to him then greet the riders as they pass. Elsewhere he spots an older woman sitting on a fence by three full baskets of plucked apricots.

The smell of the countryside is a mixture of mildew and wild grass. At a section of orange trees there is the scent of fallen citrus that fills the entire surrounding. Healthy groves full of ripe oranges protrude from dry grass bleached gold from the summer heat. The taller hedge rows separating each estate limit the sight of the faraway hillsides and mountains ranges. Eventually the pony along with his riders and cart emerge into a clearing of open fields, which lead farther out towards a smaller village in the distance visibly present with gathering wagons and carts.

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An Assembly and a Mounting

Upon approaching closer towards the village in the distance, the pony's tunnel vision catches sight of increasing numbers of travelers sharing the road lane. He catches sight of a man herding a large number of sheep with brown and cotton coats, then another wagon driven by an actual thoroughbred who dismisses his own presence. Their approach gives way towards the sight of a larger assembly once near the town center where the atmosphere becomes livelier, numerous farmers and ranchers gathering on the narrow rows of cottages and gabled houses.

Here the pace of his movements are slowed dramatically as the flow of traffic result in tight clustering. The presence of the loaded cart and its freight provide substantial room for its movement but the pony is mutely aware of the curious gazes and passing comments made at his presence. A bemused farmer's wife smirks coyly at him as he shuffles past. An older bearded man huffs at his youthful appearance dismissively.

Soon the flow of traffic gives way to a clearing of trampled grass, decorated with colorful banners and ribbons along the neighborhood lanes. Multiple pavilions are being installed, stationed wagons and carts unloaded, as what appears to be an outdoor gathering is set up. The pony passes by other carts but each appear to be driven by actual labor animals, leaving him solely alone to his current station.

At a nearby sycamore tree, the cart is brought to a halt and the girls disembark from it, gathering materials from the back to begin their work. They are approached by other locals familiar to them, some making passing comments about their new companion, but none directly interacting with him.

As the pony remains standing in wait, his eyes stare ahead, unresponsive to the world around him. He periodically paces on the spot to keep his legs mobile, clopping audibly as he grows restless from inactivity. Eventually one of the girls returns to lead him away, out of his sight, by his reigns.

The ponyboy is directed towards what appears to be a section of wooden stalls similar to that of horses. However, their design appear much too small for actual breeds, instead appearing specially designed for human ponyplay. The other sections appear to be vacant and empty as he approaches, led inside, then his reigns anchored behind him on the stall. Briefly as he turns he catches a glimpse of gathering observers, men and women, some older and other young adults his age.

He stands on a floor of matted straw and the smell of barn dust hangs around him. The small perimeter leaves only the view of his front forming a protective shell around him while displayed. The girl removes the blinders from his head harness then places the leather blindfold over his eyes, strapping them above and below his ears, buckled behind his head.

Once he returns to the familiar darkness, the ponyboy takes a deep breath, his bare torso rising then exhales slowly. He catches the nearby conversations and comments, hearing none. As is the custom of the practice, the blindfold serves to keep him alert to his senses, but equally alert during each wait between use. Its presence further serves to keep him focused, avoiding visual distractions, and most importantly to sever any semblance of conscious interaction.

In front of him is the sound of growing activity, the movement of passerby, and the heavy treading of actual thoroughbreds and Clydesdale horses. His gloved arms test the security of his restraints, pulling on the cuffs against his wrists and biceps, shaking their locks then resigning quietly. Meanwhile the girls remain within earshot, hawking their produce, and watching him unseen.

He is noted by observers about his appearance, his status as a pony and slave, and of his youthfulness. Though not inexperienced in such matters, his intense discipline is a source of personal pride, and the brazen self-confidence seems to exude in the manner of his apparent ease with such exposure and usage. Soon he hears the sound of closer footsteps, then the touch of fingers against his shoulders and the cheeks of his face.

Before long the touches grow more brazen perhaps from the vulnerability of his bondage. A stranger's hand, calloused and rough, reaches past the stall door to cup the swell of his sack; fingers groping its softness, then squeezing firmly about the rounded shape of his testis. A low groan is produced by the ponyboy as he shifts forward towards the touch then balances carefully on the spot.

From directly ahead, a woman's dress sleeve brushes his hips as it reaches past his hips, then delicate fingers curl about the stem of his tail-plug thrust deep inside his star. The woman's hand slowly undulates the conical plug until the sound of his moaning soon becomes more audible from the stall. The heat of her mouth briefly brushes his chest as it flicks over his piercing nipple and the ring present there.

This encounter is abruptly stopped as he shifts on the spot, rocking his hips from side to side, only moments away from a potential release. The hands touching him withdraw as he dips his chin against his posture collar, sighing heavily as he is denied. At the edge of the chastity cage, a thin bead of precum seeps from the mouth of his engorged crown, straining in its prison untouched.

The sudden noise of approaching hooves roots him on the spot along with the sound of the stall swung open. His head lifts slightly towards the source of the sound as if to determine its source, but blindfolded, he fails to do so. This second set of hooves paces around him before a set of gloved hands seizes his waist firmly. A shiver of realization occurs as this other unseen pony begins to draw him closer, taking ahold of his tail-plug and slowly easing it free to reveal his star.

It is in this manner that the ponyboy is rutted by another unseen pony, whether a free person or another compliant slave unknown; hands restrained, he feels his unknown stud press inside of him, sinking deeply with slick fluidity. A protective cover prevents him from determining its authenticity, let alone the absence of any grunting made as he is thus utilized, leaving the sex of his partner undetermined.

Unbeknownst to him, this entire process is watched by no less than two dozen spectators, at times murmuring or remarking on the manner of his response. In his headspace, as befitting ponyplay, the inhibitions and permissions required as a slave are widely absent- in this regard he is privy to release upon impulse, limited only by his own threshold. The opportunity does not go wasted during such a chance encounter.

Upon reaching his climax, there is a loud groan as the ponyboy tenses, his teeth biting hard into his bit-gag as the entirety of his body stiffens. A spasm rocks throughout his slender form and his angelic features, though masked under bit and blindfold, wince as he gasps loudly. Inside its cage his swollen member strains then pulses over and over, thick seed flooding its chassis, then seeping from its open mouth down onto the stall floor below.

A quiet cheer passes from his audience, the sound of their amusement leaving him momentarily conscientious of the act. As a flush of warmth fills his cheeks he is coaxed further until the final spasm, groaning as he dips forward upon that final dismount. From the corners of his mouth, a sliver of drool trickles down his chin past his soft lips adding to the sticky drops of seed nearby his hooves. The sounds gradually die down and the sound of the stall opening is followed by the retreat of his unseen partner, led away by some other handler.

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An Intermission

The afternoon passes with steady activity around the isolated stall where the ponyboy is located. He breathes slowly, swallowing the bit still kept inside his mouth; both his gloved hands, squeezing frequently into fists, begin to sink into the leather cuffs fastened around them. Despite the shade provided by the structure, the pony is visible slick with sweat along his collarbone and the sides of his features. His chest rises slowly in controlled breaths, the sound of his tight restraints stretching against his biceps and wrists interspersed with the rattle of his numerous locks.

In the cleft between his parted thighs, the mouth of his plastic chastity device is sticky with the remains of his recent finish, and within its chassis the crown of his member hangs flaccid in its prison. Over the surface of his shaved sack the secretion has become taut against the base ring, straining in its position.

At the back of his upper thighs, his partner's finish clings against his flesh and seeps down to the edges of his black fishnet stockings. His bleached star is quick to recover from its use and before long he paces on the spot, perhaps mindfully aware of the absence of his tail. Eventually, with the blindfold still blocking his vision, there is the sound of the stall being opened and a pair of work boots entering the limited space.

A pair of hands move to adjust the long reigns running from each side of his bit and begin unfastening them from the stall. He is brought forward by two small steps, then leaning against someone's arm, both his legs are eased apart. The process of his plugging is a gradual affair- a gloved hand thoroughly lubricates his star, then it is with slow deliberation that the conical plug is returned. The hairs of his tail accessory sway with a wriggle of his hips, the movement within prompting a low groan of approval from the pony himself.

With the reigns refastened, he is left standing immobile, listening to the sounds of the market in front of him. A local musician strums a stringed instrument somewhere to the distance. He catches a handful of comments directed towards him, inquisitive, full of small talk. Unable to regard the people passing by and stopping at his stall, the ponyboy straightens as much as possible, with his chin raised aloft from his own posture collar.

An older man approaches him, remarking on his youthful appearance, and brazenly brushes his rough and calloused fingers over the pony's nipples. The pony's teeth momentarily flash as he bites down hard on his bit-gag, sucking back drool, a low moan escaping from his soft lips. As the man continues to assess his value, there is a woman's softer touch briefly stroking his face. Each of his hands grip tightly into fists as his chest rises as if to greet the couple's explorative hands.

The man describes the manner of his discipline and focus to a group of curious onlookers, a vivid focus towards the pony's potential as breeding stock and the manner of his confinement. As he does, this individual reaches lower then squeezes the swell of his sack, resulting in a louder groan of pleasure. At once he is quick to respond and already his dormant member begins to steady.

His youth requires a particular form of temperance, the man mentions, so that his submission may be prioritized above his own base needs and the virility he displays. It is for such a purpose that a young stud as the pony himself be purposefully kept chaste. The heat of the stall, the close proximity of the man and woman, further add to the growing heaviness of his breathing.

When both are satisfied with their inspection, there is the sensation of a damp cloth, coolly brushing against the hard plastic of his device to wipe away the smear of his pleasure. The rag is soaked into a pail of water then the rest of his body wiped at the exposed flesh with the exception of his inner thighs. There, with the stickiness still present, each of his taut legs are left untouched- the sensation serves as a form of distraction, further intended to test his disciplined focus.

Some time later the sound of approach draws his attention, lifting his chin towards the stall as it is opened. The touch of familiar hands belonging to one of the two riders brushes his skin, followed by the soft coo of the girl's voice as his reigns are unfastened. With carefully guided steps, the pony steps out of his stall then stretches his knees, raising them high; the blindfold straps are slowly removed, revealing his bright green eyes, wincing against the sunlight as his vision returns.

The younger blonde rider circles around him, her eyes and her touch examining his state, then seizing the leather reigns of his bit she steps to his right side. As the girl leads him away, his eyes stare blankly ahead as he begins to trot audibly, moving with synchronicity beside the girl. The ponyboy glances at the corner of his eyes at the bustling outdoor market where many locals are present, many turning to remark on his present, but none interfering as the two return to their cart.