As long as I have known my mistress, she has demanded a pony for her birthday. Since the age of six, she has begged, screamed, and pleaded for mommy and daddy to get her one. They never did. Twenty years later, I became the pony girl that finally entered into her life. Melody is my name, and I am proud to be my mistress’s pony.
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“Good morning, sweetheart,” her lovely voice cooed.
The barn door was wide open. The sunlight shone right on my face. I didn’t know what time it was. All I knew was that it was summertime. I had been up for quite awhile, naked, lying on a black cotton blanket, watching the night turn to day. I had been ridiculously eager for my mistress to arrive, dreaming about her throughout my slumber.
The barn was humid, smelling of sweet and musty hay. The Texas heat was starting to beat my horse stall and I was baking into the humidity, loving the sensually warm moisture that nestled in between my thighs and trickled down my back. This kind of heat inspired my face to flush.
I had worn my pony hoof cuffs and boots all night, which caused my hands and feet to swell slightly within them. I was neither aching nor throbbing in pain; my hands and feet were comfortably numb. The black vinyl spiked collar around my neck was starting to burn, making me anxious and restless.
When she arrived, I stood up immediately for my queen, neighing and panting over how fucking hot she looked. My Nubian goddess, the epitome of elegance and attitude.
Deliciously wicked were the best words to describe her wardrobe and overall dominance. Those eyes, hypnotically hazel, sweet and vicious. Her dark blue, latex-gartered dress was skintight with corset style lacing on the back and matching, long, latex gloves. It was short-skirted, long sleeved, and shiny, hugging every inch of her voluptuous body. She loved to flaunt her muscular, killer legs, which were clad in a gorgeous pair of black latex stockings. And of course, the dress showed off those round and huge tits of hers, which were bouncing and jiggling with her every movement.
The sight of her body made me pant: hourglass shaped, with well-defined arms and a big round ass. And her hair: gorgeous, Bettie Page style, as black as a stallion, full, vibrant, and bouncy with curls. It sported a black vinyl cowboy hat that sprouted long, thick, and authentic black horse hair at the top, which flowed down to her back, swishing back and forth as she moved. Her lips were as red and juicy as the forbidden fruit; they tasted just as delicious and sinful. She wore eight-inch matching dark blue fetish boots, equally shiny, super high-heeled, and ridiculously captivating; they were very similar to ballet boots. She walked in them on tiptoe so naturally, a feat that not many mistresses could conquer. I had heard that it could possibly take months and maybe years for one to practice walking in them without breaking her feet or twisting her ankles. Rumor had it that mistress learned how to walk in them in a matter of hours.
I trembled at the sight of those ballet boots.
The whipping sound of her walking feet echoed in the air. She was holding horse reins and a narrow-tip riding crop, which had a diamond-encrusted handle. My stall door squeaked as she opened it, smiling down at me with that sexy wicked glare.
“Did you sleep well, my Melody?”
I neighed and nodded, knocking my horse hoof cuffs together to make the clonking sound she loved to hear. She smacked and patted each of my cheeks. The latex gloves felt so warm and supple against my moist skin, and they smelled good too. Mistress gave me a kiss on my lips, a kiss on my nose, sealing my future. I was in heaven.
“Are you ready for today?” she grinned.
I nodded quickly; God knew I was ready.
“You better be; I have trained you long enough.”
She spanked my breasts with the crop, one at a time, watching them bounce as my nipples perked. The leather tip was small, adding more intensity to the sting. I yelped with each smack, already aching and wanting more. One, two, three, four, five. I felt red welts burning on my pale skin, ready to blossom in the garden of Mistress’s punishment. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. The warm and arousing pain made me shiver. Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. I couldn’t get enough of the sting! Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty. The burning sensation, so deep and so strong! Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five. She could tell how intense the sensations were for me by the quiver of my smile. She pinched my nipples and continued on smacking a dozen more times while thrusting her warm and sensual latex gloved hand upward against my hairy pussy. She raked her fingers through my trimmed pubic hair, pulling and tugging at it roughly, like a plaything.
“What a hairy pussy you have, you hairy cunt!”
She forced her hand up harder and harder; I wanted to sink and fall in ecstasy. My heart was pounding; she was already making me wet and juicy. The harder she thrust, spanked, and thumped that hand against my pussy, the faster and sharper she whipped my boobies with the crop. My nipples grew intensely hard and red. Splotches of red sores blanketed my breasts; they looked oh-so-gorgeous and more vibrant by the smack. If she spanked me any harder and longer than she did, they would have turned a luscious blue.
“How beautiful you are,” she moaned, staring at the love prints she had coaxed from my skin. “And this cunt…I’ve trained it very well, I can tell…”
She gave it one hard slap, and then inserted two fingers inside of my cunt hole. I bit my lower lip hard. The smoothness of the latex, the warmth of her fingers, the slipping in and out motion, slow, deep inside, and then quickening faster, it made me want come already. My knees smacked together, shaking.
Mistress gazed at me seriously, as if any sign of me writhing in pain would be the end of me.
“That’s a good girl,” she said, nodding. “You are taking things in much better.”
She continued the same motion, inserting a third finger inside of me. My legs shook and shivered; three fingers was once quite a lot for me, but now I took it all in up to the base. She plunged them in and out of me in that smooth and gentle pace, and then in seconds she became a fucking machine, pounding me faster and faster, plunging them in quite deep. She showed no mercy. I roared roughly; she growled and inserted a fourth finger, adding a bit of pressure to insert the fifth. I writhed in shock as my little pussy gradually allowed her entire hand to nestle inside of it.
“Ah!” I yelped.
“Ride it, bitch,” she hissed.
I felt her fist form into my cunt and my pussy throbbed around it. I closed my eyes, bouncing up and down on her fist slowly, feeling my pussy stretch.
“Oh God,” my mistress quivered delightfully, watching the way I moved and grinded my hips. “That’s my girl, ride it just like that!”
I grunted, watching her go down on me to my chest as I obeyed her command. Her sexy mouth suckled on my right breast. Her free hand she squeezed my breast as if she were a cat letting out her claws, making them bulge out. She sucked on my tit harder, swallowing my entire breast whole. I continued to ride, fast, panting, breathing heavily, stunned and amazed at my pussy swallowing mistress’s latex fist. Mistress devoured my breast hungrily; her saliva dribbled down to my waist. I grinded her fist into me faster and faster; she bit down on my nipples, pulling and tugging, making me shout in pain.
“Come for me!” she growled.
She pushed her fist deeper into me – oh yes! The intensity of it sent me over the edge and I exploded. The pleasurable currents swirled through me and my body grew weak and tired.
“Mmm, good girl,” Mistress smiled, pulling her hand out, kissing each throbbing red nipple, and then putting the snap hook of the horse reigns on my collar. She viciously smacked my ass with her crop many times and forced me down on all fours with a strong and rough pull of the reigns. I whinnied and gagged when I made a soft thud into the hay.
“I think you really are ready, my sweet,” Mistress whispered into my ear, standing behind me. The heel of her boot pushed against my back, the tip of the crop rested on my butt cheek. She pressed down against my spine. I could feel a bit of her weight, a little bit heavy, but not enough to break me into pieces. I was strong; she had made me that way.
“You are going to feel like a princess pony today, my dear.” She tugged on the reigns, forcing me to lift up my head so I could look straight into her eyes. “The finest latex dress…bumblebee yellow, short sleeved, full on the front, the bottom cut out for easy access….you like that?”
She stomped her heel to the small of my back.
“Yes!” I cried.
“And your favorite steel horse hair butt plug, large…”
I nodded. She tapped the tip of her shoe against the back of my neck.
“And your pony bit head trainer with the red horse ears and lovely plumage.”
“Oh my god.”
“And, last but not least, your new pair of shoes, similar to mine, but hoof style.”
My jaw dropped.
“Yes, that’s right, black, hoof-style ballet boots…I know what you are thinking. I never made you walk in them before. Are you scared?”
I almost hesitated to nod. I couldn’t help it, I had to be honest.
“Too bad,” she laughed.
She smeared her pussy juice covered hand all over my mouth. I sucked on it, tasting my cum, its saltiness and creaminess. She thrust her hand in and out of my mouth, teasing my tongue with her fingers and kissing my forehead. She forced her entire hand inside me. I gagged, almost choked, and coughed when she kept it there and finally pulled out, spanking my ass cheeks with the crop.
With the reigns she led me out of the barn, making me walk on all fours. We stepped into the plain dirt field, surrounded by a fence, with only a watering hose faucet, bunches of hay, and rope lying about. In the distance there was a field of grass, the country style mansion that she had inherited, and a forest. The ground was scorching; I could feel it through my hooves.
A friend of hers was waiting. I call her Blondie because of her luscious and seductive Marilyn Monroe-style blonde hair. She was dressed in a pink latex dress, white stockings, and white domme shoes. She never dominated or punished me; her only job was to help me bathe and get dressed, but imagined that Mistress had her way with her anytime, anyplace that she wanted.
Blondie sat at the edge of a wooden table that held all of the things made especially for me. There was a tray simultaneously buckled around her waist and hung from chains connected to her collar. I felt pampered and spoiled, knowing what was yet to come.
“Aw, doesn’t the pony look pretty today,” Blondie smiled sweetly, petting my head. “Her outfit will be a lovely contrast to those auburn red locks of hers.”
“One of the reasons why I chose the color,” Mistress winked. “Stand up pony.”
I obeyed her. Blondie took off my collar, along with the reigns and my hooves, putting them on the table. I wore absolutely nothing and beads of sweat covered my entire body. For a few minutes my fingers, feet, and toes ached. I cringed at the thought of wearing those hoof-style ballet boots. They appeared expensive and stunning, perfectly matching my outfit, but fuck, I was going to die walking in them.
However, I wanted to satisfy Mistress in every way. She was worth the struggle. I took a deep breath and exhaled. The less I thought about it, the more I desired to walk in them with absolute perfection just like my Mistress.
“Get down on all fours again,” Mistress commanded, sitting on the edge of the table. She put the diamond encrusted handle of her riding crop into her mouth and sucked on it, plotting something in her dirty mind, I could always see it in those eyes. She stared at me as Blondie grabbed a hair brush, a bottle of Mane n’ Tail shampoo, a bar of soap, and a sponge. Blondie placed these items on her tray, then took the watering hose and turned it on. She let the water spread into the ground underneath my palms and my feet to cool them down from the heat. The hair brush ran through my hair, which was quite long, flowing past my ass. Blondie was so used to the length that it didn’t take her as long to brush it as it would if I did it myself.
I glared at Mistress. She had her legs crossed, gazing at me as if she were stealing a piece of my soul. I gulped, and she began to suck on her riding crop handle more passionately, suspiciously, trying to make it slick and wet. Blondie pulled my hair roughly as she wedged the hose between her legs, letting the cold water flow all over my body. It washed away my sweat and my sex stench, splashing against my pussy, my ass, my waist, my thighs, my neck, and my belly. She rubbed the bar of soap all over my body, making me neigh and giggle. She had a lovely way of teasing me while bathing me. Pinching my nipples like a naughty brat, rubbing my clit, tongue fucking my pussy, and tickling my pubic hair. After her teasing, she lifted the hose above my head. I moaned as my hair got drenched, lathered with the shampoo, her fingers massaging my scalp, and then rinsing the shampoo out. The suds ran down every curve of my body. It was delightful and refreshing. I felt reborn.
“That’s enough of that now,” Mistress snapped. “Dress up time.”
Blondie obeyed, taking a towel and ringing my hair dry. I noticed Mistress taking the handle of her crop out of her mouth, gripping on it tight with one hand while holding the steel horse hair butt plug in the other. The horse hair perfectly matched with the color of my real hair, a dark auburn, slightly curly, vibrant, and long. Mistress put the tip of the butt plug into her mouth and sucked on it. It was large, shaped like a teardrop, and the thought of the cold steel touching me was arousing. Not surprisingly, Mistress could fit the entire thing into her mouth, making it look so fucking easy and sexy as she pressed it against her inner cheek. I watched her, nearly drooling, entranced at how she sucked on it like a huge dick. Fuck, just when I was starting to get squeaky clean, my pussy was getting wet and dirty again.
“I can tell she’s getting horny,” Blondie smirked, patting my pussy and rubbing two fingers against my clit and my labia.
“Is she now?” Mistress licked her lips, standing up. She looked down at me, dangling the butt plug above my head. “You want this?”
I neighed and nodded.
“I can tell you do, you pony slut.”
I tried to grab the butt plug with my mouth, eager, wanting, and waiting. She smacked my cheek with the narrow tip of the crop, her shoes whipping the ground as she walked behind me.
“Do you believe diamonds are a girl’s best friend, Melody?”
“Yes, I believe.”
“What do you think Blondie?”
I didn’t hear her reply, all I heard was silence. Then, to my surprise, Mistress inserted the diamond encrusted handle of the crop inside the hot, creamy hole of my pussy. I kicked my head back and screamed. Mistress grabbed hold onto my right ass cheek as she pumped it in and out of me. My pussy throbbed and pounded as my legs shook with pleasurable currents. Mistress’s supple and luscious tongue caressed my asshole, running in rapid circles, the tip entering inside. She thrust it in hard and my asshole took her tongue in. No matter how many times I’ve been rimmed, having Mistress perform it was the closest thing to paradise for me. I loved how Mistress tongue fucked my ass and my pussy with the crop handle in complete unison while humping her crotch gently against the back of my feet. I roared and moaned passionately, feeling the heat and the sun against my back. Blondie stood in front of me, putting a bottle of lube, a black spiked collar, and a shinier brand new pair of pony hoof mitts on her tray. Mistress thrust the crop inside me faster and faster, spitting on my asshole. Blondie tossed her the lube; Mistress caught it. I grunted as Mistress fucked me harder; the bumpy-like sensation of the diamonds rubbing against my pinkness felt so good! Mistress smeared some lube on my asshole, keeping the crop in my pussy until it slipped out on its own. She grunted and grabbed my hair, pulling it hard to keep my head up high again. I whined like a bitch, closing my eyes as Mistress slipped one finger in my butt hole, then two, and then a third.
“Ooh, it’s so nice in there…” Mistress sighed, slowly thrusting them in and out. “Such a lovely asshole.”
Blondie sat on her knees in front of me. I opened my eyes as she lifted up my hands from the ground and slipped on my hoofs, adjusting the buckle very hard and tight. My hands were already shaking inside of them; was it fear or just anticipation? I could never figure it out; these explosive feelings were always the same. Blondie then slipped on my vinyl black collar, buckling it comfortably.
“Mmm that’s a good girl,” Mistress cooed, pulling her fingers out and slapping the tip of the plug against my small gape. The steel was shockingly cold; as Mistress pushed little by little in, it warmed to my temperature. I gasped in shock when all of it slowly slipped inside with the gentle force of Mistress’s hands. She pulled the plug upward, then downward, repeating the motion, pushing it back in, keeping it there. My asshole throbbed as the weight of the steel butt plug eased deep inside it.
“There we go, now you can flaunt this lovely tail.”
The crop slipped out of my pussy; it was loud and juicy. Mistress sucked my juices off of the crop handle. She stood in front of me after having sucked off every drop.
“Stand up.”
I pushed myself up slowly. The hoofs made it hard for me to stand on my own. When I was finally on my own two feet, Blondie brushed down my hair, which had dried up naturally in the heat and the sun. She styled my hair into a ponytail fashion and when I shook my head it felt like I had an additional tail to add to the one I wore in my ass.
Mistress grabbed my pony-bit gag head-trainer. It was made of supple, black leather with a decorative, diamond-stud forehead strap. The bit was soft rubber, the ears were black on the outside, a rose red on the inside, and the long and extravagant plumage was a daisy yellow, so dressy and lovely, matching the color of my latex outfit. It was so beautiful. Mistress slipped it over my head as if it were a crown, a sign of my equestrian glory, which I was dearly proud and honored to have. The side strap and chinstrap held the rubber bit-gag snug in place. When I bit down on it, it was soft and easy on my teeth. Mistress nodded, satisfied at how I looked so far.
“Mmm,” she smirked.
She walked in circles around me slowly, slapping the crop against her palm in sharp and rapid smacks. She pulled my tail, making me yelp.
“Put on her outfit,” she said to Blondie. “And close your eyes, pony.”
I obeyed, feeling Blondie putting the warm latex dress on me with light pulling and tugging. When it was finally on, the latex hugged my hips, thighs, ass, and breasts. Indeed, the dress was cut out in the back; a draft tickled my ass cheeks. The sleeves reached down to the start of my hoofs. When I made a slight movement, the latex squeaked. For a second I felt like the dominant one: powerful, strong, and ready to take on the world.
I was forced to sit down on the table as Mistress and Blondie slipped a pair of yellow latex stockings on my legs. It was the first time I had tried them and they were strangely invigorating. They reached high up against my thigh; only three inches of leg was showing. A black vinyl waist-cincher was put on me to accentuate my curves. I truly felt pampered, a fairytale pony made for a queen.
“Keep your eyes closed,” Mistress demanded, noticing that I was trying to look. I tried my hardest to keep them shut. I shivered when my feet were slipped into the hoof-style ballet boots. Already, my feet were forced to like a ballerina’s. Mistress and Blondie pulled the strings tight. It didn’t feel as uncomfortable as I thought it would, but boy, was I nervous about the moment when I would be told to open my eyes and stand up in them.
Mistress gave the command. I stood up slowly, cringing. The boots forced me to stand on the very tips of my toes. The new height from the heels made me dizzy. I almost wanted to cry. I gulped, trying to keep my composure. I had never felt this nervous, so hopeless and fragile. Blondie and Mistress just stood there admiring and staring at me from head to toe. Their bitchy smirks humiliated me; they were very amused at my fear and reluctance.
“My, oh my,” Mistress licked her lips, tugging at my tail. Blondie smacked my ass and tweaked my nipples through the latex. The combination of their wicked teasing and the height of the ballet boots made my legs shake uncontrollably. The heels were so fucking high and skinny, eight full inches, my fucking lord! I was going to fall to the ground, I thought, and embarrass myself trying to stand back up.
“Aw look at her,” Blondie smiled. “She’s afraid to walk in them.”
Mistress attached the snap hook of my reigns onto the large rings of my head trainer, standing face to face in front of me.
“You only have an hour to practice walking in these, understand?”
I moaned through my pony bit gag, trying to say, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
I didn’t dare say it out loud enough to be heard. I nodded my head instead.
“Follow me…follow my steps, watch how I walk in mine…”
She tugged the reigns, walking step by step backwards, pulling me towards her. The first step alone made me wobble and ache. I slipped and fell to the ground. Mistress just stood there, watching. She slapped my thigh with the crop repeatedly with lust and anger.
“Get up, now!” she barked. “Don’t you dare embarrass me!”
She didn’t help me up. I got back up on my own, my legs wobbling. She stepped backward again, pulling my reigns gently. I counted: One, two, three, again and again in my head. My feet twisted slightly; I fell again on my knees, thankful that I wasn’t broken. Mistress smacked my back and thighs in response; the welts were forming. I breathed heavily when she was finally through. I looked down at the ground, nearly in tears.
“Look at me, darling,” she commanded.
I obeyed. She grabbed my chin.
“The harder you try, the more treats you will earn for the struggle, my dear.” She smacked my cheek.
I took a deep breath and stood up, feeling determined and challenged to overcome this struggle. I stepped toe to toe slowly. I watched Mistress step back. The way she did it was so elegant, like a secret dance. I paid attention, marching in my boots gently, in the same rhythm. I was slightly wobbly and clumsy, but didn’t fall as hard as the other few times.
“There you go,” Mistress smiled. “Much better.”
I swallowed hard. I was sweating, but relieved that I was getting better. Minute after minute, I improved. Regardless of the many times I tried, however, I couldn’t get over my nervousness. I wasn’t a natural like Mistress, and we both knew it. I fell on my knees again and again, thankful that I didn’t break my ankles. Mistress laughed wickedly, pulling my horsetail and whipping me with frustration, indicative of the brutal pounding that I was going to get later. Blondie whipped me too for the first time; she was as sharp and vicious. I kept on practicing walking in these shoes through the hot and throbbing bruises, scratches, and welts on my buttocks. Mistress held the reigns tighter and pulled me faster as she led me around her in circles, laughing at my pain, mocking my clumsiness, amused at my endurance, all which encouraged me to grow stronger once more.
By the end of the hour-long practice, I was exhausted and tired. I passed out on the ground on my knees. My feet were killing me. Mistress pet my head and kissed my nose and said, reassuringly, “With time you will get better. Right now, this will do.”
She allowed me to relax for a little bit. Blondie and Mistress disappeared for a minute. I knew what they were doing. They were pulling in the lightweight-riding cart, which had two wheels and a seat big enough for both of them. I trembled in pain, pleasure, and anticipation, realizing that this was just the beginning of the day. Was I looking forward to it? Did this all seem like a fantasy that I could never get myself out of? Hell, yes. All of this was for her. When I heard the sound of the cart rolling towards me, I stood up immediately with shaking knees, wobbling legs, and aching feet. The turning of the wheels transformed me into the ultimate sub. No pain, no numbness, no complaints, no hesitation. My life was made of this. Deep down, I loved this more than life itself.
“You look stunning, absolutely stunning, my equestrian Melody,” Mistress smiled at me. She traced her finger down from my collar to my crotch, caressing my supple, bare ass. “Do you have the strength to take us to our destination?”
I nodded quickly.
“Why did I even ask? I know you have the courage.”
With a snap of her fingers, Blondie took off my hand-hooves. As soon as my hands were free, I held onto the wooden bars of the cart. I turned my head slightly; Mistress had a serpent like bull whip in her hand. She sat down in the cart, holding onto the reigns. Despite her weight, the cart was still light. Blondie sat beside her, making it no more or less heavy. She held a four-foot, leather-strap whip, and I was more than anticipating her lashing, as well as my queen’s.
Mistress pulled the reigns. I began to march. I knew exactly where I was going: to the woods behind her estate. Mistress gripped onto the reigns tighter. With the sharp, fiery smack of her whip, I marched onward, trotting in those killer boots, nervous, wobbling, shaking, but feeling as if I were basking in comfort and walking on air. I didn’t fall again, not even once as I stepped over rocks, twigs, and branches. At last, half the struggle was over. Off I went, wild and free as the rhythmic slap of the whips on my back played on.
Originally published August, 2008