The Pony Couples Race Part 2

CHAPTER 9: GOING DOWN AGAIN

*

Bryony glared at me as she was strapped back into the traces. Her face was smeared with Honey Pot's juices and I could see frustration as much as anger in her expression.

I shrugged and grinned round my bit which didn't help her mood.

It wasn't as if I could have done anything about it.

We were probably saved from a pony domestic by Honey Pot stuffing some Jelly Babies into our mouths to give us a little energy boost before climbing back into to chariot and whipping us off at a trot as we strained to get ourselves and the chariot moving after our 'rest'. As we were leaving the clearing, another chariot and pony pair appeared; Goose driving Justin and Jo or perhaps I should say Frisky and Fanny. Frisky's blinder's were still closed but Goose had left Fanny's open which seemed reasonable given that she was making her first foray into the world of pony play. I could see she was enjoying it and doing her best to run at the rising trot Goose appeared to be insisting on. I wondered if she'd had them high stepping all morning.

Honey Pot whipped us hard up the slope as they went passed and steered us to follow them along the track. It was difficult to see much of the ponies other than Fanny's blonde mane but it did give us a lovely view of Goose's back including her bare shoulders, tight waist and perfectly rounded butt with that pink crotch strap disappearing between her firm cheeks. Like Mistress Carter's, hers was a standing chariot and I also got a chance to enjoy her long slim legs and those very tight shiny pink high heeled boots.

'I know what you're shinking.' Bryony shouted as we trotted along behind them. Then she gave a slight grunt as Honey Pot's whip admonished her between the thighs. 'Bidjh.'

We followed Goose and her two ponies and then, when the track widened, Honey Pot shook the reins and landed a series of well placed strikes to our buttocks spurring us to the canter. Goose responded, encouraging her own pair and we ran neck and neck for a few hundred yards then, as we approached the road, Goose whipped her pair to the gallop and they started to pull away. Bryony and I instinctively went to the gallop too but, frustratingly, Honey Pot pulled us back and when we fought against her she lashed us hard until we yielded.

We were going to be sore in the morning.

Trailing the other pair slightly I did at least get a chance to assess them and noticed that Fanny was clearly a well trained athlete; she was too solidly built to be a long-distance runner and even middle distance so I I settled for 400m or perhaps a long jumper. (I'm never off duty). Whatever her background, she was a natural pony and, combined with Justin's strength and stamina they were going to be serious competition if they kept training.

We hit the road with Bryony and I running just behind Goose's chariot and back up towards the village. I was less familiar with this part of the wood, Bryony and I tended to train on the track behind her farm but I knew that if we carried on we would take the ford and enter the village and if we dropped through the woods to our left we would be on the road where the annual mares race was held.

Goose went left leading us down a scarily steep bank, turning between trees, her chariot slipping on soft loam. It really wasn't a pony track and was almost certainly reckless but it was also thrilling; dropping at something between a trot and a canter constantly at risk of losing our footing and being more or less shoved along by the chariot. I couldn't help wondering even as I followed the reins and the whip whether Justin was at an advantage or disadvantage being blindfolded.

It was a question I never resolved, we hit the lower road to the sound of a very un-Goose-like whoop of excitement and turned to the right to follow her and her ponies up the long slow climb back to the village.

*

We toiled up the hill though went off the road at the top to avoid the village. Being on the road in tack was a bit naughty but two double chariots driving through the village was asking for trouble with the race committee (and the fact that two of the 'mares' were in fact 'stallions' would have caused apoplexy among some of the village old guard).

We thus followed trackways up to the top of the tourney field and then stopped gasping for breath round our bits (four of us anyway) to admire the view over the village towards the coast and the Dart estuary. It had become clear over the last half hour that Fanny was tiring; fit athlete she might be but running harnessed and bridled takes a little getting used to. Goose thus tipped Honey Pot the whip and guided her ponies towards the stable.

It had been a good work out and I hoped we might follow but Honey Pot had other ideas.

'Shall we go round again?' She asked rather rhetorically then flicked the whip and took us to the trot.

Honey Pot clearly had fewer scruples than Goose and, as she descended the tourney field she took us right and we emerged at the top of the village green. There were a few punters already gathered at the Mare in Hand but she had the good sense to keep us on the top road and rather than take the ford road, dropped behind the post office onto a less steep bridleway that wound down to the lower road.

*

After a gruelling second circuit, we arrived at Goose's stables at the best gallop we could manage, panting hard and grateful to be back. Even Bryony was winded by this stage.

'Well done.' Honey Pot said, drawing back on the reins and hopping from the chariot. She walked down and patted my bottom in the traditional manner causing Bryony to glance across. She clearly expected a pat on the bottom too (my wife is so competitive).

'Let's get these off shall we?' Honey Pot said taking my bridle and removing my nipple clamps without any warning.

I admit it. I screamed.

'Whimbb?' Bryony opined.

'Better get them done.' Honey Pot told me with a slight smirk. 'Then they'll be no more nasty surprises.'

I glared at her but she just winked and gave my balls a squeeze.

At that moment Goose emerged from the stables. She was still in her little pink outfit looking every inch the fetish mistress although her hair was a little less well tamed that before.

'Where do you want them?' Honey Pot asked her.

'Put them in the barn with Fanny.' She said gesturing with her whip. 'There are some restraints in there to keep them out of mischief.'

There were indeed restraints including heavy duty black single sleeves which Bryony and I soon found ourselves tightly strapped into. After a day in polo sheaths, even this form of bondage was quite a relief although, of course, Honey Pot didn't make my elbows touch. She did make us stretch though once she'd removed our harnesses.

Fanny knelt quietly in the corner, still harnessed and bridled, her blinders closed looking the picture of pony girl submission. She was also somewhat mud-spattered and generally grimy; a look that I had become quite fond of.

Honey Pot was just securing our collars to a ring in the floor when Goose came back. I noticed her cheeks were slightly flushed and then noticed her little pink number wasn't buckled in the quite the same way as before. I guessed someone had removed it and reapplied it hastily and suspected that, if Goose noticed, I that particular someone might just get his arse whipped.

I kept quiet.

Goose clearly hadn't noticed her deshabille and sauntered past swinging her hips flirtatiously. (Another un-Gooselike behaviour). I noticed she's traded the bladed whip for a pink riding crop.

'I thought we should complete Fanny's transformation.' She said holding up the tail and tinkling nipple bells she was carrying. 'She has been a very good girl today.'

More evidence that Goose wasn't thinking straight; this morning she'd whipped her slave's arse for being late.

Fanny lifted her head turning towards the sound of her mistress' voice.

I watched Goose bend (giving a lovely flash of pussy - that crotch strap had not been straightened) and, taking Fanny's reins, guided her to her feet. The helpless pony stood slightly unsteady and then followed obediently as Goose guided her to a wooden stall which was conveniently at waist height; then she bent the statuesque blonde over it. Lubrication clearly wasn't a problem, the woman's pussy was wet from her red letter day experience as a pony girl and Goose teased her with the tail plug before pushing it gently into her anus. It went in surprisingly easily and Goose raised an eyebrow suggestively as the new pony give a rather sexy gasp.

The tail was blonde and I suspected it might be one of Goose's own though probably wasn't her own hair. Goose had a waist length blonde plait and I doubted she would be giving up her hair that easily.

'Well.' Goose said. 'You clearly like your new tail. Shall we try the nipple bells for size?'

She lead the girl to stand her under one of the chains that had held Justin (sorry, Frisky) earlier. Reaching up she clipped the chain to the top of Fanny's bridle leaving the blonde balanced slightly precariously her pony boots. Good boots give the impression of hooves for the aficionados and keep a pony up on her (or his) toes; this makes it easy to run in them once you get used to it, but much harder to stand still.

The blonde's nipples were clearly visible where they poked through her leather bra and were equally clearly swollen and stiff from her treatment. She gave the same little gasp when the clamps went on as she'd given when the tail went in.

'My, aren't we a proper little pony now.' Goose said standing back and tapping the nipple bells so they jingled.

Fanny nodded a little too vigorously causing the chain above her head to tighten and make her wobble.

'Just one more initiation to got then.' The Goose said turning to face us and pulling out the riding crop. The only question is who will do the honours. 'I'd make Frisky do it but he'd enjoy it way too much and, besides, he's a little busy.' She laughed and, I noticed, blushed.

An image of Justin holding the bladed whip between his teeth came to mind. I guessed he was probably sweating and trying very hard not to drop it.

Goose pointed her crop at us.

'Eany, meany, miney, mo.' She swung the crop from one to the other and ended up on Bryony. 'Look who's the lucky one.

Bryony rolled her eyes. It was a bit unlike her but then she'd licked out the Honey Pot already and spent the day in harness after five days in chastity and still hadn't had the chance of a climax.

'You do remember how to do a girl.' Goose said as Bryony crawled forward.

'Oh, she remembers alright.' Honey Pot said lasciviously from the door of the barn where she'd been watching proceedings.

Bryony shot her a glance and earned herself a swat on the bottom from Goose's crop.

The sound attracted Fanny's attention and I saw her head turn.

Goose smiled evilly and sauntered towards her.

'Worried you're missing out, Fanny?'

The helpless blonde's head turned, the chain above her head clicking.

Goose stroked the leather blade of the crop over the top of Fanny's breast.

'Don't worry.' Goose said guiding the whip down the blonde's body. 'Mistress will ensure you have your share of fun.'

Fanny shuddered.

'Come along.' Goose encouraged, her whip reaching the front of Fanny's bare pussy. 'No need to be shy.' She pushed the crop between the woman's thighs. 'Spread those legs.'

Fanny obeyed, opening her sex to Bryony's tongue.

The blonde's gasp was even more audible this time as Bryony's tongue gently lapped at her pussy.

'Ooohhh.' She blonde moved on her boots, rocking slightly. The chain clipped to her bridle clicked as it held her upright.

'Does my little pony like that.' Goose teased using the whip to caress the bare skin of her pony's bottom.

'Mmmmm.' Fanny's voice sounded dreamy, her breathing suddenly uneven.

Goose swatted her with the crop.

'Uuhhh.' It was definitely a gasp of pleasure and she tottered again. It was a beautiful sight, the statuesque blonde teetering on her toes, completely helpless in harness and bridle, intensely aroused and being teased with a mix of pleasure and pain by her leather clad mistress and the kneeling pony girl.

Bryony pushed her tongue a little deeper and Fanny gasped again, rocking back and forth under the twin assaults of Goose's crop and Bryony's tongue.

She was clearly well trained for, when she reached the stage where she obviously wanted to cum, she struggled hard to control it, teeth grasping her bit, muscles tensing.

Good girl.' Goose teased slapping her right nipple with the whip in a way that was obviously designed to turn her into a disobedient slave.

There was a sudden gasp behind me and I turned to see Honey Pot standing in the doorway with her hand down the front of her jodhpurs. She was flushed and, when she realised Goose, Bryony and I were looking at her, her reddened more.

'What?' Honey Pot said. 'I don't need permission.'

Goose frowned and lifted the crop bringing it down quite hard on Fanny's buttocks which seemed a little unfair.

'You may cum.'

'Shang...uhhhh...uhhhhhh.' Fanny climaxed suddenly rocking on her boots and swaying violently, her body trembling as she tried to push herself hard against Bryony's face.

*

CHAPTER 10: THE GIMP

*

With Fanny satisfied, Honey Pot lead out of the barn and into one of the stables where she rather meanly left us chained by our collars to either end. Bryony looked particularly pissed off.

'It's alright for you.' She said pointedly. 'You've had the pleasure of miss fuck-me-anal-slut.'

I tried to point out that I hadn't had a lot of choice but it didn't go down very well.

'You can't imagine how horny I am.' She said squirming on her knees so that she sat on her leg. 'Five bloody days in chastity. I can't remember how long it is since I went that that long.'

Pointing out that it was probably before the last mares race didn't help. I'd enforced three weeks and, in the few days prior to the event she'd been so desperate she'd even begged for anal.

'And then there's being used as everybody's tongue slut.' She continued ranting, tossing her head to shake the hair out of her eyes in a way that only emphasised her helplessness and frustration and made me want to give her a bloody good spanking which no doubt would have lead to one of those kitchen table moments. As it was we were chained together (apart) in the stable, restrained like the slaves we were, awaiting our mistress' pleasure.

Goose arrived a while later with food and water.

'Have you two been naughty?' She asked with a smirk and she bent to place our bowls in front of us.

Bryony growled something incomprehensible earning herself two sharp raps across the breasts from Goose's crop. The blonde's pink leather outfit was now buckled up properly suggesting it had either been corrected or she'd taken it off again. I visualised Justin in her kitchen in little more than chains and perhaps a pinny preparing preparing food under Goose's direction. It wasn't a pretty sight.

Having chastised Bryony, Goose turned her attention to me perhaps expecting me to be chowing down without permission but like a good boy I was kneeling waiting for permission.

'Rubber Dolly has been training you well.' Goose said with a smirk. She really was in love! 'Perhaps I'll come back later and see if there are other improvements.'

She disappeared leaving bryony to glare are me before we bent to our bowls.

Eating like this is messy and without the use of our arms or each other's tongues we were going to have dinner on our faces until someone came to clear away. No matter how seriously you take your submission, you can't do the pet thing without smiling, especially when you see a pretty slave with spaghetti bolognaise smeared across her face. It was something that even lightened Bryony's mood.

*

We were just finishing when we heard the stable door open and looked up to find Honey Pot appearing with Eye Candy in tow.

'Thought I'd better be a responsible trainer and come check on my mares.' She said with a giggle suggesting that she and Eye Candy had already enjoyed a cocktail or two.

They were both dressed as naughty schoolgirls of the St Trinian's variety; hair in bunches, tight white blouses (with lacy black bras, obviously) and ties; gymslips and fishnet stockings.

I clearly went to he wrong school.

'We're off to a party in Exeter.' Honey Pot said. 'Shame you can't join us.'

'We'll think of you here, chained up in the stable.' Eye Candy teased. Her hair was bright red this week.

'But we've got ten minute until the taxi comes.' Honey Pot said. 'So we'll give you a little taste of what you're missing.'

They stood between us.

'Which one do you want?' Eye Candy asked.

'I've already had Sticky today.' Honey Pot said. 'Actually, I've already had Wimply too but that was up the arse.'

They giggled.

The two of them pulled down their knickers and advanced on us.

'Do a good job, PonyBoy and I might even let the two of you spend the night together.' Honey Pot said lifting her short green skirt.

What could I do? I was a slave on my knees, naked apart from a collar. I stuck out my tongue and did my best to please.

There are guys out there who might be horrified at my sudden foray into submission but sub or dom, there's nothing intrinsically demeaning about munching pussy; I've done it a lot since I met Bryony; mostly hers but during my trip to Argentina to play polo I sampled quite a few others too. I actually rather enjoy it. Maybe I am a wimp but there's something about licking a plump salty pussy, about using your tongue to tease and please a girl, to have her squirming and, if you're doing it right to hear her cry out as you bring her to climax.

Honey Pot has always been a screamer. It's probably why she and Bryony have their pony names; if Honey Pot could have kept her mouth shut (or had thought to bridle herself) then their friends wouldn't have found the two of them in full harness, with Bryony kneeling between Honey Pot's thighs with her fingers in the blonde's slit. From the way Bryony told it, if they'd have been discovered a few minutes earlier Honey Pot might have been called Golden Tongue and Bryony might have got the name Honey Pot.

Whatever the provenance of her name, Honey Pot was noisy. She was also horny and very responsive. Eye Candy was quite the howler too. The noise they made was certainly enough to bring Goose out into the yard. (She had Justin beside her, on all fours of course, and hooded).

'You are a good boy.' Honey Pot said with a wink as she lowered her skirt and slid her knickers back on. 'And you clearly enjoyed yourself too.'

I admit it, my cock was rampant.

'He's quite good with that too.' Goose said. 'You should try it some time.'

Honey Pot laughed. 'Already have Goosey.'

I saw Goose scowl. Honey Pot liked to be the queen bee and had given Goose a tough time growing up in the village. However, 'the gawky' Goose mostly didn't care now. Honey pot was a PA and Goose was a millionaire fund manager; money, of course, doesn't buy happiness but it didn't seem to be doing the Goose any harm.

'It is always a pleasure to serve Mistress Goose.' I told Honey Pot rather pointedly (and gallantly, I thought) looking up at her.

'Is it now?' Honey Pot glared back down at me.

'Just make sure he's in one piece when you've finished with him.' Goose said with a smile as she turned back to her eighteenth century manor house with her loyal pet in tow.

I've always supported the underdog but I realised as she walked away that perhaps defending the Goose at that moment had probably not been the smartest thing to do. It wouldn't be the first time she'd dumped me in it. I was aware of Bryony glaring at me too.