The Pony Race

I published this story a few years ago elsewhere. At the time it seemed quite popular. I'm republishing here for a new audience and because I now have some sequels to add for those who enjoyed the story.

*

Prologue

*

'I'd like to come and visit you.' It was a bit of a last minute thing and I knew it sounded lame but I'd enjoyed Bryony's company over the course and I thought she'd enjoyed mine. Besides she'd hinted a couple of times that she'd appreciate a little 'extra coaching' after the course finished.

'Yes, that would be nice.' She flashed me a smile and ran her hand through her shining red-copper hair.

I shrugged as she turned away. Oh, well, it was worth a shot.

'Mike!'

I turned back and saw her smile in a way that I'd seen her smile at me a couple of times in our short acquaintance, a smile that seemed to say she found me as attractive as I found her. For a moment she seemed to be thinking about something and I felt a tingle of hope. Then, suddenly she was walking towards me and putting her arms around my neck; I felt the brush of her breasts against my chest, the firmness of her body and then her lips were on mine. It wasn't a long kiss or a deep one, no tongues and no suction, just a good old fashioned snog that went way past friendly.

'That's just to make sure you don't leave it too long,' she said, 'and bring your kit. I'm going to be calling on your professional skills too.'

Then she turned away and I watched her go with sudden rush of pleasure and a very stiff feeling in my trousers.

*

Part 1

Chapter 1: Mars-de-Launce

*

Two weeks later I was on the train to Plymouth.

It was early May and quite warm so I had to smile when she met me at the station wearing an orange cotton wrap around summer dress and, as far as I could tell, not much else; she certainly wasn't wearing a bra. She was just as pretty as I remembered, probably more so, with her red curls that shone in the sunshine and her little impish face with its mischievous blue eyes and her enticing red lips. She was one of those girls with a slightly turned up nose and prominent cheeks that dimpled when she smiled.

I got another snog and, as her breasts brushed against me again, I got the distinct impression that I was feeling more than just hard nipples. I couldn't help looking down.

'Yes, they are.' She grinned at me as I blushed. 'Perhaps I'll let you look at them more closely later.'

Then she took me by the hand and lead me to the little silver convertible I'd seen her driving when she'd attended my course. Even as we left the car park she guided my hand onto her thigh.

*

She lived in a run down farmhouse on the back roads up to the moor just outside a little village called Mars-de-Launce. We parked in a stable yard and she lead me through a garden that was pretty though clearly not well maintained into a typical farmhouse kitchen.

We were barely inside when she turned and kissed me again. This was a full snog and she clearly wanted tongues too. Feeling her body against me was delicious, her breasts, her belly, her thighs, there was nothing I could do to cover my own response and, as my cock pressed hard against her I felt her smile.

'Let's get this over with shall we.' She pulled away from me and tugged at the sash of her dress pulling it open. She was naked underneath. Her body was lovely, small and pert, freckled skin, perky little breasts and toned belly all below a layer of fat that just softened it to stop her being skinny. I could see her nipple rings too, black and quite broad, like wedding bands and, intriguingly, vertical through her nipples.

'Since you're so interested.' She grinned and guided my hand to her right nipple, encouraging the tip of my finger into the ring.

'A mare who's lead by her nipples is always obedient,' she said somewhat cryptically.

I was still wondering what she meant when she started kissing me again and dragging me back towards the big oak table behind her. Still kissing, we bumped against it and she wriggled up to sit on it then she lay back. Her arms were still in her dress but it covered none of her body. I could seen a V-shaped tan line below her neck and marks from a strappy top she must have worn in the sun; the tops of her breasts were sunkissed too, the freckles darker than on the underside. For a moment I found myself disappointed that she didn't sunbathe naked; certainly her home was remote and there were no neighbours to overlook her. Then, realising she was looking at me expectantly, I took the opportunity to pull off my shirt.

'Nice.' She smiled and then looked down expectantly.

I unbuckled my belt and opened my trousers.

Her smile broadened.

Her pubic hair was the same red curls as that on her head and I could tell she was wet as the tip of my cock pushed against her sex; sliding across the slickness of her labia. I was drooling too and I teased her sex gently enjoying the sensation as my cock slid over her pussy.

'You won't get me to beg that easily.' She laughed and wriggled towards me trying to force herself onto me.

I didn't need any more encouragement and pushed inside, almost trembling at the sudden thrill of entering her, excited by her gasp. Then I leant forward and she pulled herself up to meet me, pressing her body against mine, her arms around my neck, her lips on mine.

'Oh, yes. Oh God, yes.' She ran her fingers through my hair.

I pushed up, lifting her, still impaled on my cock, and she clung to me tightly.

'Oh, good boy!' She clearly liked that.

We fucked like that for several minutes as she kissed me and murmured her pleasure and then I felt her sigh and the pressure on my cock diminish as she climaxed.

'Fuck! I needed that!' She was breathings hard as I was.

Now it was my turn and I pushed her back onto the table, thrusting into her as she opened her legs wide climaxing again at the same time I did.

We lay panting for a few moments, still locked together, sweat slick between our bodies and then she tousled my hair.

'Good boy,' she said, 'now lets go and have some real fun.'

*

She cast off her dress completely and lead me out into the concrete yard where she'd parked the car; she was delightfully and completely naked and her back view was as delicious as her front; her pert bottom had a gentle roundness and there were dimples at the base of her spine. I could see more tan marks, the outline of straps on her back.

I followed trying to decide if I should take off my trousers or zip them back up. I elected to keep them on and managed to force my cock back inside, a little disappointed that she wasn't taking me to her bedroom. However, she had said 'fun' and perhaps, as a country lass, she wanted a tumble in the hay; I'd never done this but was happy to give it a try.

There was a long, low outbuilding with a number of stable doors and a sheltered walkway running in front of it, though, as far as I could tell, no horses so I was surprised when she opened a glass fronted door and lead me into what was clearly a tack room. A wooden rack of straps and bridles stood in the centre surmounted by a very small saddle that I guessed must be for a miniature pony; there were other straps hanging on the wall and a couple crops and whips too; at the back of the room was some sort of gig with spoked wheels and a little seat; again it looked designed for a miniature pony. The smell of leather and saddle soap was strong and, in present company, rather exciting; I had a brief vision of using some of this gear for a little light bondage, something I'd always been excited by though had never actually tried.

Bryony bent down and took some gear from the rack, the movement gave me a perfect view of her pussy so I didn't see exactly what she picked up. Then she went to one of the wooden pegs on the back wall and took down what looked like a bridle.

'Here.' She turned round and handed me an armful of stuff, black leather straps and some sort of simple leather saddle that she draped over my outstretched arms; she lay the bridle on top and then several coiled leather straps that might be reins.

'Put them on the rail outside and come back to help me with the gig.'

I could hardly refuse. It was a while since I'd ridden but a naked girl was going to ride with me and I was hardly going to refuse. I imagined us on horseback, her sitting in front of me, naked as I guided the horse towards a stream where we would dismount and make love again... Then I remembered I wasn't a very competent rider and that she'd said something about a gig.

*

I came back in to find Bryony pulling on a pair of boots; they were black leather and shiny and came up to her knee.

'Here.' She stood and gave me a long whip, a shaft about two meters long and then a long leather thong attached to the end. 'I don't expect you to use it but you may as well look the part.'

I watched her bend to lift the shafts of the gig.

'Get the other end,' she said.

I scrambled round the equipment rack and picked up the end of the gig with the seat, helping her lift it over the rack and out through the door then watched her bend again and pick up the shafts before pulling it out into the yard. She looked beautiful in the sunlight, her red hair shining and seeing her naked save for a pair of shiny leather riding boots just made me want to fuck her all over again.

I've always had a thing about women in boots, especially semi-naked women in shiny leather ones; and the fact she was pulling the cart gave the whole thing a frisson of pony play. Then I noticed the swing of her hips and movements of her legs and realised she was walking on her toes.

That's when the penny finally dropped and my eyes I followed her legs down to realise that the boots ended in of a pair of hooves.

*

She must have read the surprise on my face.

'Come on,' she chided, 'you can ogle me all you like when you've got me in harness.'

We began with what I had thought was a small saddle; it actually turned out to be a leather corset that she got me to buckle around her waist; there was a thick strap sewn to the front that went up between her breasts which ended in another broad strap; this was a collar and she lifted her hair so I could buckle it around her neck.

Like I said, I've always had a bit of a thing about bondage and I'd looked at a few pony girl pictures too but I'd never expected to be putting one in harness. If she'd told me to stop there, it would have been enough, I'd have fucked her until she told me to stop in just the corset (or 'girdle' as I later discovered it was called) and collar but this was just the beginning. A leather bra came next with two metal rings that circled her little breasts and half cups with Vs cut away for her nipples.

'A girl's breasts can get saggy if she doesn't support them when she exercises.' She laughed pushing them up and clipping the rings to the strap between her breasts as I tightened the bra-strap behind her back.

I couldn't imagine her breasts ever being saggy.

Then came straps that buckled to the bottom of the girdle and went around her thighs which looked a little like suspenders.

'They stop the girdle riding up.'

She had to help me with the bridle and holding it in place with the bit between her teeth she couldn't give me clear directions. There were straps over the top of her head and around the back, straps that went up from each end of the bit to the bridge of her nose and then a single one up across her forehead and over the top of her head; another strap went horizontally across her forehead to keep it straight; the bridle was fitted with blinkers too. When it was firmly in place she unclipped the bit and pulled it out of her mouth.

'You can put that back in later. I like a bit when I run but I prefer the reins on my nipples.' She told me this so matter-of-factly that for a moment I didn't realise the significance of her words.

'You are okay with this, aren't you, Mike?' she asked. 'You did say you'd help me with a bit of extra coaching.'

'It's not exactly what I was expecting,' I told her, 'but I think I'm ok, yeah!'

I considered saying that I'd looked after a few pony girls in the past to reassure her but it wouldn't have been true and admitting that I knew a lot about pony-girls would probably mark me out as a pervert.

At least I now knew what she'd come on my coaching course for; of all the amateur athletes in the group, she was the only one who'd been vague when I asked her about her 'sport'. It also explained her rather unusual tan lines.

'Good.' She picked up two of the coiled straps and handed me a long triangular folded piece of leather with a number of straps and buckles attached to it.

'Now you need to harness me to the gig.'

She stood between the shafts and lifted them up. There were straps on the sides of her 'girdle' that clipped to the shafts and the two longer ones clipped to the back of it and to rings further back towards the seat. We spent a few moments checking the tension on these before she was satisfied.

'I don't suppose you know what a single sleeve is?'

'I have a pretty good idea.' I tried to sound casual.

'Ever put one on a girl?'

I found myself blushing. 'No.'

'It's pretty straight forward.' She put her hands behind her back. 'My elbows do touch but that's for competition and use in the bedroom. Only pony girls in fiction can manage it all the time.'

I picked up the leather restraint and shook out the straps then slid it up over her arms.

'Get my hands into the mitt and then buckle the wrist strap, the rest is fairly straight forward.'

I did what she said, barely able to believe what she was asking me to do. In my bondage fantasies, all girls were restrained like this. I'd watched a few videos on the internet of girls being strapped or laced into single sleeves so I had a pretty good idea what to do. After I'd secured her wrists I pulled the leather up her arms and buckled the straps quite loosely, then I put the chest straps over her shoulders and used these to pull the sheath up, finally I tightened the sheath, though not enough to make her elbows touch; then I managed to get two more notches from each of the shoulder straps.

'Good job.' Bryony wiggled her shoulders and shook her arms. 'You sure you've never done this to anyone?'

I refrained from trying to make a smart comment, there was only one way I could ever have seen this done.

'Now, clip the shoulder traces to my shoulder straps.'

I complied, adjusting the tension until Bryony was happy.

'It's just the reins, now, and you're ready for your first driving lesson.' She nodded towards the remains of the equipment she had given me.

*

Chapter 2: The Bridle

*

'Start with the that metal bar.' She instructed.

I picked up a the bar, it was lot thicker than the bit and oval in section and surprisingly light; it was about a foot long with rings on each end which had a long loop of leather attached to them

'I probably should have shown you how to do it before you put the sleeve on but I'm sure you'll manage. Unclip the reins and start by unscrewing one end.'

I did as she told me, snapping off the clips that held the long leather loop and then twisting one of the rings at the end; I found it unscrewed and then eventually it came off. The end sections with the rings held three collars around the bar, one about ten inches long and two a little over an inch; she told me to slide two of them off the bar.

'The bar goes through my nipple rings one at a time and the long collar sits between them.' She grinned. 'I'm sure you won't mind slipping it into place.'

I certainly didn't. My cock was already trying to burst out of my trousers at what this pert little redhead was making me to do her and the prospect of playing with her breasts ringed with steel and displayed so perkily in her little half cup leather bra was almost enough to make a man ejaculate prematurely.

Sometimes a man has to do what a man has to do and I carefully pushed the end of the rod through her right nipple ring, noticing now that the inner part of the ring had a slight prominence that made it oval and shaped exactly to fit the central bar, keeping it just clear of her nipple; then I put the central collar on, I then passed the bar through the left nipple ring and put the final collar back on before screwing the end ring back in place. With her nipple rings separating the collars they were now snugly held in place as part of a circular metal bar though the rings themselves had a tiny prominence at the front with a little hole in. Even allowing for my adventures so far today, it was probably the most erotic thing I had ever done in my life.

I looked up to find her smiling.

'If men had breasts to play with themselves, nothing would ever get done.'

I found myself blushing.

'Nipple reins.' She took on a dominant tone. 'Now.'

How could I refuse? I clipped the long rein back on to each end of the nipple bar and I had my very own harnessed pony.

'Good.' She continued with her dominant tone. 'Now, take the whip and go and sit in the gig.'

'Don't you...' I gestured to her bit, currently hanging free of her mouth.

She rolled her eyes. 'How can I tell you what to do with that in my mouth.'

'I thought I was the one in charge.' I realised it was a mistake as I said it.

'Have you ever driven a mare before?'

I looked down, chastened.

'Thought not.' Her tone softened. 'Now get in the gig and don't you dare use that whip unless I tell you. If you try I'll use it on you later and, believe me, I'm very good at it.'

I believed her.

I took up the whip and climbed into the seat, surprised how much it sagged under my weight.

'You're heavier than I expected,' she told me.

'You're a lot kinkier than I expected.' I was quite proud of it as a retort but she simply snorted.

'Shake the reins and tell me to walk on.'

I shook the reins reminding myself that they were clipped to my new girlfriend's nipples, my very kinky new girlfriend's nipples. I couldn't help trying to construct the sentence in French: 'Les mamelons de ma petite amie tres kinke ont...' Perhaps it was the name of the village that inspired me.

Bryony started to walk forwards and I was driving my first pony girl.

*

It turned out that driving a gig isn't that difficult, not in the basic sense though it can be very distracting watching a pretty girl in bondage over whom you have total control as she performs obediently for you. It is also very arousing and a couple of times I couldn't resist stroking my stiff cock.

So I learnt that a shake of the reins tells a girl to go faster (obviously) and pulling on them slows her down; obviously pulling right takes her right and left takes her left. We did a few circuits of the stable yard and then she told me to take her out onto the track. It was at this point I realised how hard it is being a pony, and this was long before I ever tried it myself. Bryony was clearly working hard and even with the slight upward slope of the track our progress was slow, I could see why she did not want me encouraging her with the whip before I saw this. However, after we covered about two hundred yards the track levelled out and then began to slope down and she made better progress; it was almost as I had imagined it would be; actually, doing it for real was better than I had imagined even if it was tinged with realism.

At the bottom of the track was a river; the ground dropped quite steeply into it and she shouted back for me to use the brake. The pleasure of watching my pony splash through the water was almost unsurpassed; it was a hot day and I was glad of the cold water splashing over me so I am sure my sweating pony was too. I let her run up the hill for a further twenty yards and then pulled her back to a walk before the drag of the gig did that anyway; despite this she continued to toil up the slope pulling me behind her with a determination that was surprising. After some twenty minutes we reached the top of the hill and had a spectacular view of the south Devonshire countryside with farmland stretching into moor laid out before us and the sparkling silvery blue of sea in the distance to go with the equally spectacular view I'd had of Bryony's bottom and thighs and harnessed body during the climb. I pulled her to a halt and climbed down from the gig. Sweat was pouring off her glowing skin and her chest was heaving. I let her catch her breath while I took in the view then, when she seemed to be panting a little less, I stood beside her and took hold of her bridle.