“Noisy," I muttered to myself, giving the duvet cover one final twitch to centre the crest of my favourite soccer team slap bang in the middle of the bed. Little fusspot would be sure to notice if it was even half a centimetre out! I paused just as I was smoothing everything down again as a loud scream sounded from the adjacent building. A second, third and fourth followed and then after a pause a couple more, finishing with an extended long and particularly shrill one that made even me wince.
“Good job, I don't have any neighbours,” I muttered, eyeing the champagne ice bucket. Yes, no? I made my mind up and moved it from the big dresser to the little cabinet on my side of the bed to be more convenient. Actually, it wasn't really a champagne bucket, more a large stainless steel bowl filled with ice cubes. Nor did it contain a bottle of expensive bubbly. I didn't have one, so four tins of supermarket own-brand lager would have to suffice. Anyway, neither of us were very fussy nor great wine drinkers!
Her side of the bed for the chocolates. Strange girl. It used to be the thing, I believe, to smoke a cigarette after making love, but greedily scoffing milk chocolates? Odd, particularly as she was something of a health and fitness fanatic, usually avoided anything like that.
Another couple of screams sounded, and then… Oh dear, now that wasn't at all acceptable, nor was it very polite language. It certainly wasn't respectful, and that would not have been well received! Faint angry words yet still loud enough for me to hear clearly. That wasn't the behaviour I expected or tolerated, but then I suppose I ought to make allowances for this new 'experience'. I would not, of course, and anyway, was it that much of a new experience? It was merely a variation upon a familiar theme but with a different conductor wielding the baton for this latest concert!
I caught sight of myself in the mirror and happily noted that my sizable cock was rising to the occasion despite its earlier exertions. I resisted the temptation to touch it; I would wait for the soft touch of Trixie's tongue to finish raising the pole. It always amused the little witch to do that, and she could be so deliciously teasing.
It wasn't cold, so I didn't bother with a robe, but I took a moment to toe-poke my casually discarded clothes under the bed with my foot. Lazy, I know, and she was always on at me about that and my general lack of tidiness, but what the hell, it was my house, my little isolated smallholding. I'd do as I damn well please - unless told otherwise, of course!
I could do without that draft through the open window, so I moved to close it, noting that it had suddenly gone relatively quiet. Did that mean, but no Trixie had only been alone with it for what fifteen, twenty minutes? I had reckoned on an hour minimum and probably more before we cracked open a couple of those cans and jointly tested the bed springs.
As I reached up to pull the window down, I realised that my assumption was wrong because I could hear some noise: a regular rhythmic thwacking sound, each meaty smack followed by a muted but discernible squeal. Trixi had evidently been experimenting and had now restored the animals' bit to its appropriate place.
I glanced around to see all was in order, then closed the window and took my place on the bed. Perhaps my timing was a bit out. Was I a bit early? I suspected that for the moment, my gorgeous young girlfriend had ceased experimenting at the front end and had returned to applying her boundless energy at the rear end. I knew my girl. Once she got going, there would be no point in my interfering!
Better for both of us if I let her work up a full head of steam vis-a-vis those chocolates and what went before! Maybe less scratches in the heat of passion on my damn back and buttocks for one thing! Christ, she had bloody talons, not fingernails! I settled contentedly back against the soft pillows allowing my mind to drift back a couple of hours.
Perhaps at this point, I should state straight away that I am not a homosexual. I am not the least bit gay. Don't get me wrong; I am not at all biased, fanatically biblical or homophobic in any way. My best friend at uni was so inclined, but it bothered me not one iota! It's just that I am not attracted to other men in the slightest. I find the very thought of being touched by another man or me touching them in a conventional sexual context absolutely nauseating. I do not admire bodybuilders, wrestlers, pro footballers, lifeguards or firefighters. Not for their bodies at any rate. Their admirable occupations, yes. Their looks and bodies no.
That is what I had told Trixie, and I wanted to make that clear from the start of our relationship. Trixie is quite the opposite. Blatantly bisexual and unashamedly open about it. She has no qualms about admiring and bedding other women, dancing cheek to cheek, fondling, kissing, groping or even just holding hands in public.
Trixie is blonde, uber pretty, pert, petite almost doll-like but no shrinking violet. There was never any doubt about who the butch was when she was with one of her girlfriends. In my bed, she liked to be submissive but in a playfully active way. I gather that she is an absolute top-dog, demanding bitch with her numerous girlfriends regardless of their age or physical size.
Oh, she can be a right little cutie charmer and impossible to resist. It took her all of two minutes to snare me, and I've seen her do the same to others on numerous occasions. I must admit I found it slightly annoying but also intriguing and at least the little minx was loyal, or so I hoped. I'd never so far as I knew been stood up for another guy but other women, sheesh, different story entirely!
It could be embarrassing. I mean one moment we would be in a bar or restaurant having an intimate little tête-à-tête then some bitch would catch her eye and, well woomff! Afterburners ignited, and up she'd get chasing a new skirt. Ten minutes later, the little charmer would be heading for the exit hand in hand with her latest conquest, leaving me alone apart from the bloody bill!
I was never too sure what she found so fascinating about me. I was decidedly average in looks and general physique and by no means the most entertaining and witty conversationalist. Far from it! Nor was I the ardent social party-loving type. I lived mostly in the country being if anything more than a little antisocial. I was Pooh to her bouncing Tigger!
True, I did have a reasonably substantial private inherited income that she appreciated. Plus if my outward appearance lacked on the swings, nature had compensated me generously on the roundabout between my skinny legs both in size and virility! Trixie had called me her stallion that first night! Funny she should have said that.
I suppose what with her expensive tastes and highly erotic nature, I probably qualified as numero uno beau in her eyes. I say expensive but to be fair, she was no gold digger and didn't give a shit for jewellery or designer labels and all that accompanying crap. On the other hand, her cute little nose never turned upwards when it came to flying business class towards exotic golden sand and blue sea and so forth. We shared an interest in skiing, sports cars, literature, gaming, good theatre and the more exotic aspects of sex, especially BDSM porno stuff!
I was usually but not always top, and she was submissive, in our relatively mild games. Neither of us being particularly into pain other than light erotic spankings, though we did have quite a collection of 'hard' stuff we liked to watch. Like I hinted earlier, I knew Trixie played with her girlfriends a lot harder than she ever did with me, but she always kept pretty quiet about that! I couldn't complain because I harboured one particular dark secret desire, a very private interest of my own, growing stronger by the day should the unlikely opportunity ever arise!
As I said, I wasn't short of the odd dollar, so I also kept a small flat in town, and that was where I usually entertained my enthusiastic young bedmate. I tended to divide my time between that and the smallholding I had bought and had renovated. Cost me a bloody fortune because it was out in some relatively wild and isolated country. That was the excuse all the damn builders had used for upping every estimate even though I argued back that it was not too far from the main road and ready access to civilisation! I might enjoy being a bit of a recluse, but primitive caves up inaccessible mountains were not my preferred cup of tea!
It was my own foolish fault that my secret was outed, I suppose. It was inevitable that Trixie would get curious when I started absenting myself for longer than usual. I hadn't been doing it intentionally, for I adored the little sexpot, but I hadn't been up to town bar a few brief abbreviated weekends for a couple of months. I thought I was safe. Fortuitously when my 'unlikely' chance to live my favourite fantasy arose, we had no exotic holidays booked and were in one of those more prolonged periods of separation that cropped up from time in our relationship.
My wanton girlfriend was actively ignoring me at the time anyway preoccupied elsewhere. Her energies were busily engaged in seducing a woman at least twice her age she'd met at her night school class. The woman proved unusually stubborn, apparently vexing Trixie somewhat but only increased her determination to get the poor housewife submissively dutiful between her strong young thighs!
Thus the unexpected sound of her voice earlier that afternoon had come as a complete shock. It was loud, shrill and with a decidedly angry accusatory note.
“You lying cheating bastard, I thought you told me you weren't the least bit gay!”
My thoughts were abruptly interrupted, recalled to the present by the sound of a door banging loudly downstairs followed by feet pounding up the wooden staircase. God, for such a dainty little madam, she could be so heavy-footed at times! The bedroom door burst open, and Trixie stood there panting slightly, and my over-sized 'John Thomas', which had been showing signs of curling up and going to sleep, promptly cancelled plans for a quiet afternoon nap by leaping to rigid attention at the sight of her.
It was her second unannounced (heavy feet aside) entry of the day, and I much preferred the sight of this one to the earlier angry one. My volatile little girlfriend paused her rush and stood framed in the open bedroom door glaring down at me with her mouth open, eyes wide, even a touch glazed and an expression of sheer lust on her face. Her eyes flicked from Mr J.T. to my face, then back to my groin, and her tongue did a quick circle over her wet pink lips.
Trixie was of that hardy breed of girls who are generally indifferent to temperature and believe that less is more when it comes to clothes. Earlier she'd been wearing just a knotted tartan shirt exposing both a generous cleavage plus her bare midriff, a brief, very brief pair of denim shorts with a broad white plastic belt. If I were to say that the belt was only marginally taller than the shorts, you get the picture. Her strong young legs ended in white ankle socks and a pair of tatty pink trainers.
Since we'd parted, she had decided to dispense with the tartan top so that I had a grandstand view of two small, but deliciously firm perky breasts tipped I noted by very prominent erect nipples. I knew those pronounced little bullets intimately. They were super sensitive, and the little tease rarely wore a bra, sailing blithely through the world, flaunting those assets via a wardrobe of brief way too tight tops!
Lovely breasts that were heaving slightly but more from other recent exertion I suspected than the short run-up to my bedroom. Her eyes were alight with mischief, and her face was damp with a light sheen of sweat. It was a warm day but not that hot, plus her wavy blonde shoulder-length hair was well tousled, all contributing to something of an exotic feral wild woman look. I noted that she still clutched a short doubled up leather dog whip in her right hand!
“Been busy, honey." I grinned at her.
“Fuck you!" She snarled in retort, tossing the whip to the floor, followed two seconds later by the shorts and leaping for the bed. "Fuck and fuck and fucking bloody fuck!" she screamed a few more seconds later as she rose above me then rammed down impaling herself on my erect J.T. right up to her hairy hilt and I began my second ride of the afternoon.
A ride, I might add, with a far more willing and enthusiastic mount than my last! My mind drifted again as I followed the advice supposedly given to Victorian ladies upon their wedding night. I gripped the bedposts so as to tense myself and aid my control and stamina. However, I thought not of England but back an hour or so ago as we settled into a familiar, comfortable and decidedly pleasurable rhythm.
Trixie, I saw at once, was angry as she stood there hands on hips. A deliciously succulent little bundle of sweet nubile youthful femininity, but one radiating a considerable degree of ire! Her eyes were flashing dangerously as she took in the unexpected scene that greeted her discrete arrival. Thinking back, that attitude was a little unfair given her own highly promiscuous casual lifestyle: pot calling kettle black and all that.
She was also one of those girls who invariably know by instinct to the exact second the appropriate moment to make an entrance. If she had been an actress, then her timing would have been impeccable! In this case, her talent hadn't failed her, although it was totally coincidental. I hadn't even heard her arrival because she'd probably used that all too quiet electric car I'd bought her for Christmas instead of the battered third hand Porsche she kept wrapping around lamp posts!
Timing like I said, for I was at the point of no return! Surprised and abashed as I was there was no power on earth nor in hell and heaven combined come to that capable of stopping me! Even going totally ridged would not have worked. Had the Ice Queen herself waved her wand and frozen me solid, I doubt it could have held back the inevitable eruption and subsequent flood of sperm from my rampant cock into the tight orifice that enveloped it!
Talking of ice queens, I won't say the tone coming from the doorway was completely hostile, but I did detect a definite chill, nor was the look being directed at me precisely one of loving warmth. I noted Trixie's expression was a puzzling mixture, anger, exasperation, astonishment, and not least, perhaps, curiosity. I could understand the anger because, despite her philandering, she unreasonably expected me to reserve all the ammunition in my locker to be fired exclusively into her neatly trimmed little pink target. We'd never even discussed the issue, but I knew it was a fundamental unwritten rule within our relationship.
I gave her a feeble grin. "It's not quite what it looks like, honey" I assured her rather weakly.
“Really!" She replied, folding her arms and leaning against the open barn door that I had foolishly left wide open. A lesson there about basic security, I told myself.
“So, I find you with your cock rammed up another guy's bum! A cock that I foolishly thought reserved for my sole use and anyway you told me that you were not the least bit gay, etc. etc. etc. Told me quite explicitly, as I recall. Really!" She could put a whole range of emphasis into that one simple word and continued to glare at me.
A look that became increasingly hostile as I gave her a sheepish, apologetic grin as I slowly backed away now entirely spent. I was conscious of how loud the noise of my wet flaccid cock sounded as it retreated from the semen dripping anus it had just assaulted.
“Who might I ask is he. I take it you do intend to introduce me to your buddy, and anyway, shit what the fuck, what!”
Trixie was certainly not stupid, and now we were past that initial spurt of indignant surprise; her roving eyes were taking in more if not all of the scene in front of her. She lapsed into astonished silence, then ejaculated just the one word somewhat drawn-out, "Jeeezzzus!”
“Not quite, more the opposite end of the hierarchical spectrum," I told her with a cheeky grin, my confidence growing. "The absolute lowest, you might say. I call him Bumbum, or more appropriately, I call it Bumbum. You can say hello, but I'm afraid the beast won't be able to respond, not very coherently anyway. Not a case of being impolite; it's just that I should leave that big bit tightly strapped in his mouth. Believe me, even I have learned some shocking new words from this fine animal. Unfortunately, he always seems so, so unappreciative of his new stress-free lifestyle and my devoted attention!”
I realised that I was still holding the short rein, attached to his bridle, thus adding to his obvious discomfort but for once unintentionally. I always grasped that harness to haul his head right back like that when I rode him hard. I felt it served to emphasise my authority and control plus being an excellent aid when thrusting both harder and deeper into his tight unwilling pony boy cunt.
I released the reins letting him sag forward on the padded frame I had constructed, and shuffled around toward the open door thrusting my limp but twitching cock back into my pants. I noted my girlfriend's look. My J.T. was already thinking about seconds, and the randy little bitch knew that. I found my face going a shade red with embarrassment, although I still wasn't worried about a situation fraught with not just embarrassing repercussions but possibly far more severe ones!
I have a strong streak of the puritan in me that is uncomfortable with public displays of affection, even minor innocent ones. Trixi finds it highly amusing when we are out in public together that she almost has to force me to hold hands, let alone kiss. I remember her shrieking with laughter that first time I let go of her hand out in the park when another couple strolled into view.' Like you suddenly found you were holding a snake or something!' she'd chortled gleefully
“Hiya honey, long time no see," I greeted her belatedly.
She remained leaning against the doorpost of my old barn, her eyes switching between me and the figure secured to the frame behind me. Anger mingled with curiosity, but I knew that curiosity was rapidly coming out on top.
“Too busy to go on holiday, eh? Too busy to come to town, eh? Too busy to phone even half the time, eh? Finally, found yourself a new friend to indulge your favourite fantasy? A new hobby perchance? Your struggling friend over there looks decidedly uncomfortable darling; I'm sure he's anxious to be released. That must be so unpleasant for him" her tone was bland, neutral then it took on a sweetly sarcastic note. "Maybe you'd like to take him up to your bedroom and sodomise the bastard in comfort to your heart's content, or is it his turn to do you? I could bloody well watch a little buggery if that turns you both on" she finished on a considerably higher note than at the start of her tirade!
Perhaps my little gal wasn't quite as bright and intuitive as I'd previously thought. Then again, perhaps given the situation that was being unfair. It did, however, pose a question though. I realised I could escort her over to my house, perhaps make peace, maybe even laugh everything off somehow, or then again? I made my mind up. I knew my girl.
“Come in here honey" I beckoned with a crooked finger.
She ignored the finger and scowled at me. "Fuck you, Judas!”
“Don't I barked as she made to turn abruptly away? "You’re right and wrong, you know. You correctly remembered my favourite fantasy, okay, I note, but not all that accurately. Think back for a second honey, think about it as I recall I did mention guys as well as girls but both only under certain rather unique circumstances.”
Trixie had taken a couple of quick steps back towards wherever she'd parked, but halted and stood for at least ten long seconds then slowly turned and looked at me thoughtfully before speaking.
“You have got to be kidding me!”
I grinned at her partly in excitement but mostly in relief. The curiosity was definitely back big time, nor could I detect anything else but would that change, I wondered. No, I knew her, no, I didn’t think anything would. I beckoned to her again.
“Feel free to come take a look honey,” my beckoning finger now gestured backwards over my shoulder. “I remember one of your favourite fantasies, as well. I also seem to remember her name, Lisa, wasn’t it? That one who was going to report you to the police last year for assault before I paid the money grabber off. It was Lisa, wasn’t it?”
“Bitch," she spat the word out. “Anyway, I hardly touched her, and those ropes were never that tight!” she muttered sulkily, but she did come toward me slowly.
I grinned and knew when enough said was enough said, bar mischievously pouring something other than oil on the water. The hook had caught and now to reel in my cute little wriggling fish. “Yeah, I know honey, wasn’t your fault, she just bruised easily, nothing to do with what you did to her, was it?”
I grinned and retreated backwards, my beckoning crooked finger still enticing her on. I stopped and turned as she came to stand beside me. It was a little dim in the big barn, but the big door was wide open, and the two pendant lights were on plus there were a couple of windows, admittedly grimy ones high up but they still admitted a degree of light as well.
One thing I have always liked about Trixie was the lack of excess verbals. She wasn’t the least bit gabby, unlike a lot of women I’d known. She never rambled on for hours about trivia, which was something I really liked about her. I am not the most communicative of guys and never once had she snapped ‘well say something, talk to me’ as every other exasperated girlfriend had at some point. Even my mother had frequently told me I should have been a Trappist monk!
Even so, the silence when she stood next to me was far longer than I would have expected. I sensed she was nervous, moving closer, then after a pause, inching even nearer to me till our bodies were almost touching. I could feel the warmth radiating from that delightful patch of bare skin betwixt knotted shirt and hipster denim shorts. The pungent smell of that exotic, musky perfume she used also assailed me. A stark contrast when set against the rank smell of my old barn and its unhappy occupant!
It wasn’t entirely silent, though almost all the noise emanated from the wretched figure bent over the frame that we were both looking down upon. A living grunting incoherent object that was restlessly squirming, testing its bonds and its legs, perhaps seeking some stress relief by lifting them up and down alternately like a pair of ceaseless pistons on a machine. Up down, up down and with each movement, that gorgeous bottom above jiggled so deliciously. I noted with a modicum of pride the steady trickle of semen still exiting from where I’d deposited a full load, running down part of a buttock cheek and dripping to the floor. Big JT could certainly pump it out!
“Oh…My….Fucking…God!” Trixie spoke slowly, finally breaking our silence. I was pleased to hear a note of awe in her voice. Astonishment but not the slightest hint of panic, I noted. “My fucking God, he’s real, isn’t he. He’s for fucking real?”
I grinned down at her. “Sure is, honey,” I said with a certain amount of pride. Double, double pride, in fact, both at my ownership, my cleverness, my delight at turning a long-held fantasy into actual reality and pride in the way my girl was now reacting. Pride and relief because I realised that my life had just become far more straightforward regarding my social diary and perhaps even more entertaining, or so I hoped.
I reached out and possessively patted a quivering meaty right buttock cheek chuckling at the way it flinched, suddenly jumping as did the entire restrained figure but to avail, of course. So delightfully responsive still. I pointed out that fact to Trixie, who remained transfixed, gazing at my helpless ponyboy as though in a trance. I wasn’t even sure that she heard me.
I repeated myself with a chuckle. “Marvelous eh honey, I’ve just got to touch, and the big beast reacts so delightfully!”
Trixie seemed to recover herself. She even shook herself physically like a dog exiting the water. “My bloody god” she muttered quietly in an almost reverential tone. “Look at him, look at his bottom, my fucking God. My God, have you done that to him?”
Her head had turned to me, so I nodded. “Proofs of affection my dear,” I thought about that one. “Well perhaps that’s not the right term, let us say, say marks of ownership instead, my ownership.” I patted his scarred backside again and repeated, “my ownership, my total ownership.”
Her breath, I noted, was coming faster, and the look in her eyes was changing. “You’ve whipped him, you’ve done all that to him?” her voice had dropped almost to a whisper.”You, you have whipped the shit out of him. My God!”
“Yup," I nodded, also looking where she was. I suppose I’d become a touch blase regarding the damage I’d wrought and continued to inflict upon him. “Amazing, now I come to think about it, how accustomed to it I had become, Whipped him, caned him, paddled him, tawsed him, strapped him, even spanked the animal a few times,” I told her with a touch of pride.
She looked at me then back to him, and this time when she spoke, there was a distinct quavering note in her voice. “He… I mean… shitting hell… it's real, isn’t it? You’re not play-acting, that bastard is for real tied up!” Her voice trailed off and then she whispered, “non-consensual for Christ’s sake!”
His bottom, thighs and the visible areas of his back all bore the marks of my ownership. Some old and some very fresh for I enjoyed reminding him of my proprietorship every single day. Indeed my sense of pride grew greater at that reverent awed tone in my girlfriend’s voice. Nor it seemed had she the slightest inclination to run screaming from the building having discovered my unique possession!
“Touch him if you like,” I grinned at her in encouragement. “ Go on, help yourself, look at that quivering rump, just made to be touched. Nothing like a handful of helpless pony flesh to get your juices flowing.”
Trixie looked at me and stepped forward her trembling hand, reaching out then hesitated. She turned her clear sparkling blue eyes again so wide. Unsure but clearly eager then back to the pony as she cautiously edged closer. Once more, she turned to look at me, so pretty, so young looking, so damn sexy. Like an innocent virgin teen again for a brief moment rather than a twenty-three-year-old experienced little sexpot!
I watched as first a long slim pink nailed finger delicately stretched out to trace over some of my old whip marks and then a few fresher purpling wheals my cane had raised. I heard a distinct little giggle as he responded to that light touch on those still painful ridges. That giggle removed any lingering doubts I had. If my splendid captive animal had harboured any silly notions regarding her assisting him in regaining his freedom, I knew he might as well forget them.
The cautious finger became a bold hand then two grasping hands as Trixie explored his rump and thighs, nor did the touch remain delicate as she grew bolder. She was touching, feeling, fondling even, pausing at one point to deliver a spontaneous irritated slap upon his right rump cheek as he offended her by attempting to squirm too much. Another delighted girlish giggle accompanied her action, I noted.
It wasn’t hard for me to guess what would come next. Although ‘come’ was undoubtedly an inappropriate word in that helpless animal’s case. The thought almost caused me to giggle! That obvious target was way too tempting for her curious hands the way he was stretched over my homemade mounting come whipping bench, especially for a girl who enjoyed playing with a big cock!
One hand then the other dropped lower to explore, and she bent down the better to see. I took a step nearer as well. That part of his anatomy wasn’t at all important to me, so I did not pay much attention to it. I’d locked him in a stainless steel curved cage with an adjustable ring behind his heavy balls. The limp cock was pretty thick, and it had only just fitted in, but hell, why should I waste money on a bigger one. Maybe if Trixie would be handling it a lot, he might appreciate a bit more wriggle room, but I wasn’t disposed to be that kind. The pony was growing quite restless now as those inquisitive fingers handled his most intimate parts.
“How big is he?”
“No idea, honey. I never had any inclination to find out,” I replied dismissively, “I locked that device on his dick the same day I acquired him, and it’s not been off since, no reason for me to let it loose!”
Trixie turned to me with an incredulous questioning look. “Never?”
I smiled condescendingly down at her. “Nope, not ever. His sole purpose in life now is to keep me entertained, and watching him get it off doesn’t cut it! So no spunky cums for Mr Pony, period. That particular part of his anatomy has only two uses as far as I am concerned.”
I watched as she traced a finger along the steel cage, then up to the fat purple swollen tip of his circumcised cock where it emerged from its steel prison. The ring that held its bulging crown captive was adjustable, and I had it in a tight grip. She stroked it gently with her pretty pink painted nails in seeming fascination, then weighed his big red balls in the palm of her hand. Given the delight she took in running her little pink tongue all over my cock and balls, I wondered if she was contemplating doing likewise. I decided to put a stop to any such silly ideas.
“Want me to show you what I use them for?”
Trixie nodded her expression, somewhat reminding me of a small curious child facing a difficult puzzle or perplexing problem. She released her hold on his useless jewels moving to one side in silent obedience to a wave of my arm.
Of course, the pony had been listening to our conversation and immediately became somewhat animated and noisy in his muted futile way I found so amusing. I might have rendered him near dumb and helpless, but he was not stupid after all! Funny even cute I thought, but we both knew what was about to happen and one of us wasn’t going to enjoy it one bit.
“There are those,” I said knowledgeably “in some of the books I have read who advocate cutting the damn things off since they serve no practical purpose. It apparently has a calming effect making them less truculent, less troublesome in the long term.”
My pony was even more animated now, Trixie who’d been looking toward his head, turned back to me in amazement. I grinned. It wasn’t often that I got the drop on my perceptive little madam, but I could see that I had her full astonished attention.
“No, no way, you couldn’t!”
I smiled at her and pursed my lips thoughtfully. “Hmm, well, one doesn’t want to be pedantic, honey. However, there is a big difference between wouldn’t and couldn’t. As you must be aware by now, I can do anything I want to beastie boy here, absolutely anything. You keep saying ‘my god’ well so far as this helpless thing goes, I am his fucking God now, or maybe devil would be more apt as this is now his eternal hell!”
I slapped the whip scarred rump to emphasise my point. “However, for the moment," I paused to let that last part sink in for the benefit of more than one pair of ears. “For the moment it suits me not to go down that route, I like truculence, I enjoy resistance, I want a troublesome pony rather than a docile one, more fun for me but in the future, the long term, well who knows?” I slapped that tempting rump again.
“But you must allow him some relief eventually, surely?”
It was a direct question, and I could see that my highly sexed little minx was inwardly debating it. Enforced chastity was something she could not even begin to comprehend for herself but for him? She looked toward his balls, her eyes narrowing and a slow, cruel smile formed around her mouth.
“He could still be teased, though," she mused unintentionally aloud, then looked somewhat abashed.
I smiled at her. “Could be provided, of course, there is no happy ending, but getting back to the starting point, allow me to demonstrate to you the two uses I mentioned previously. You will have noted that fat, captive and rather unnaturally swollen looking purple tip crowning his useless dick and those big angry looking red balls.”
Trixie’s eyes flashed to the mentioned objects, then back to me as she nodded.
I smiled then selected a thin whippy riding crop from the numerous implements of pain hanging on the wall nearby. I took it in both hands to bend it and demonstrate just how flexible it was, releasing one end, so it sprang back to normal with a softly audible twanging noise.
“My favourite tool for this little job,” I told her with an evil grin, “observe the nice big leather flap at the business end.”
I’d read the expression ‘eyes like saucers’ but never fully understood it until now as I looked at my girlfriend. Trixie looked first at the crop then turned to run her eyes backwards and forwards along the two walls that hosted my growing collection of wicked toys. I was surprised that she hadn’t noticed them before given how sharp she usually is, but she had perhaps been preoccupied looking elsewhere. I gave her a questioning look and was amused at her prompt eager response.
“Go on, do it!” there was not the slightest hint of hesitation in her voice. My little girl was fast coming to terms with the situation, it appeared. Her answer prompted a further bout of frantic but ineffectual struggling from the third occupant present in my barn, along with those pathetic sounds. Futile but amusing pleas, perhaps. Trixie evidently thought so too, for I saw her mouth twitch, and she immediately covered it like an over-excited child!
“I do this once a day," I informed her. “Unfortunately for one of us, I have already done so today. However, purely for demonstration purposes, I don’t mind exercising my arm again nor my authority!” I cropped beastie on his rump, none too lightly, and I noted Trixie give a little gasp of delight at the triangular imprint I left upon him. “As a repeat performance is now necessary.”
I didn't add that I usually don’t have him face down on the frame for this little object lesson in who’s the boss and who’s nothing more than a dumb fucking animal, so it was a little harder to get a good swing, but I did my best. One to his left testicle and one to that swollen purple cock head.
Trixie certainly appreciated it, for she whooped and clapped her hands in delight at the second one. From her disappointed expression that she immediately threw in my direction, seconds, thirds, and a whole lot more wouldn’t have gone amiss. I grinned at her and shook my head.
“Later baby, later.”
Trixie pulled a face at me then suddenly became super excited, skipping up and down with excitement. “Look, oh look, look, he’s shitting himself. Oh my God just look at it,” her voice rose a couple of octaves. “ Geez, look at him, the filthy, filthy…”
“Animal…” I offered helpfully.
“The smell though, ugh!” she remarked as I passed her a mug of herbal tea in the kitchen a few minutes later. I was a coffee drinker. Trixie nibbled on a biscuit before continuing, “How often do you let him do that? Let him just go like that?” She seemed particularly fascinated with that particular aspect of two-legged pony ownership.
We were taking a little hiatus to discuss the situation. I thought it best to give her a break before she got too het up and wanted me to give him a good few more with that crop. My gal was getting randy. I knew the signs, and I wanted to lay down a few ground rules.
I couldn’t help smiling at her expression of fascinated disgust. “It's okay, honey,” I assured her, “relax, perfectly normal. He often does that now when he gets excited or angry. He has no control anymore, I have taken even that away from him.”
Her beautiful blue eyes were wide and questioning as she turned to me. “How, how on earth…?”
I shrugged nonchalantly. “Serendipity, my dear, I just amended his natural biological functions with a little extra non-biological plumbing. You know what a butt plug is, I take it?
She nodded and blushed a little for some reason. Quite sweet, I thought.
“The animal is permanently plugged; you should see the fine tail he normally sports attached to the top of it. Nylon, but looks real, and of course, it is easy to hose down for obvious reasons! The butt plug is quite a thick one and very bulbous. There is no way his sphincter will allow him to eject it without some assistance on my part. It’s a very sophisticated bit of kit, and I might add, rather expensive. It has a hollow core, so when his digestive process is complete, nature takes its inevitable course.”
She looked utterly bemused.
“Plop, plop, smelly time, honey,” I grinned, “and not a thing he can do about it either!”
“Oh, poor boy.” Her first expression was more a natural reflex response rather than one of genuine pity; likewise, the horrified look on her face. It vanished almost immediately, I noted. “That awful smell! Anyway, where was his tail? I didn’t see one?”
I shook my head. “Nope. You’ll have to get used to the smell; I’m afraid though—part and parcel of keeping an animal like that. I do muck him out every few days, but I rather like that stench, plus it serves to remind him of just what he is now, and of course, his feelings don’t come into it! You can always avoid him entirely if you want, of course.”
Trixie promptly stuck her tongue out at me as far as that suggestion went. I grinned, knowing just how eager she was to get back into my barn.
“Yeah, I know,” I interrupted. Point is he’s got so damn used to having no control that he almost can’t help himself like just now plus I dose the mush I feed him on with a strong laxative, helps him digest his oats and keeps him loose and regular so out it comes unless I decide to lock him off. I can turn a little knob on that butt tube so not a drop can escape.”
Her eyebrows shot up in astonishment. “Why on earth would you want to do that?”
“Control my dear, absolute control or punishment, or both if the mood takes me." I grinned over at her. “Control honey, that’s what it’s all about. I get a huge hard-on, even thinking about it. He eats and drinks by my hand and only what I choose to give him.” I sniggered and added, “It's not exactly the most appetising diet either I can assure you. He has no freedom, no control over his own bowls, no ability to talk, no sexual relief; he has absolutely nothing, is nothing, no life beyond the miserable existence I permit him. Worse still, he can feel my whip or my cock, often both whenever the mood takes me. Not a damn thing he can do to prevent me, nothing not a thing.” I banged my fist down hard on the table to emphasise my point. “Nothing!”
”Oh My God,” she said slowly with emphasis. “Oh my god, but that’s so fucking cool. I mean, I mean to have that degree of control, it’s incredible!”
“As I said, my degree of control is absolute," I admitted nonchalantly, basking in her evident admiration and added. “Normally he wears his tail plug 24/7, but for obvious reasons, it would be impossible for me to enjoy a nice little ride if such was still in situ.”
“I noticed that you’d left a deposit in him,” she remarked a trifle petulantly. Her brow furrowed a little, “but you said you weren’t gay?”
“Quite correct, I’m not. I have no sexual interest in him as a man whatsoever but as a helpless captive animal with some tempting holes? A perk of ownership, my pet.” I chuckled. “You should see how wild it gets when I swap the mouth bit for a large ring gag and then, as you put it, leave a deposit at that end for a change!” I frowned then grinned. “One would think he ought to appreciate a change from his customary diet!”
She eyed me calmly, then reached out and grabbed my shirt front, pulling me closer. Well, don’t allow yourself too many perks, sweetie, and I’m not your fucking pet, that poor boy is. I don’t want you wearing your gun barrel out or firing blanks in my direction when I’m in the mood! Who is the poor sod anyway, and how did you get him?” She loosened her hold on my shirt and shook her head as she continued, “Unbelievable, I mean, sheesh, I mean, shit, you can’t just keep him in there all the time surely, and what does he say about it all? I mean, god, it’s surreal!”
I calmly helped myself to a chocolate digestive, and it was my turn to shake my head and sigh.
“You're not that naive, nor that silly Trixie, and don’t try appeasing your conscience either. You know full well that Bumbum out there isn’t going anywhere soon and that he’s there full time. I own him, and I fully intend to keep him in his nasty shit stinking little stall 24/7. I can hardly let the fucker go now could I and as for talking to him, you don’t hold conversations with animals, pet. You talk at them, not to them!”
“I talk to mum’s cat.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t talk back, does it, nor do you beat and fuck it for your amusement either, I hope? He can understand, of course, but he’s not allowed to talk, period.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Stupid bastard still tries, of course from time to time when I free his mouth up to eat or to brush its teeth, but it’s a big no-no. The first rule of the stable. No talking, horsey noises only; otherwise, my big fat cane starts whistling and boy did it have to whistle a lot at first!”
I swallowed the last piece of biscuit and glanced at Trixie. There was still a slightly dubious look on her face, but her eyes betrayed her. She was fascinated, of course, as I knew she would be. I know her well enough to recognise all the signs. My bitch was feeling ultra randy. Her eyes were bright, and I saw her interest, curiosity, and thinly disguised delight at every new revelation. It was the same when I used that crop—her rapt expression with not the slightest trace of sympathy or pity for my captive animal. I might have been hammering a nail into an inanimate plank of wood, for I saw not an ounce of empathy as the crop left its mark. I did see something else, though and knew it wouldn’t be long before she wanted a ride!
She suddenly surprised me by laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, just him; I mean, it’s so crazy, isn’t it. He can hear and understand everything we say but so helpless, like a baby almost. He can’t do a thing for himself can he not the way you have him trussed up. Does any of that leather harness stuff come off?
”Yes, and no,” I told her. ”Bumbum has excellent hearing; I bet he starts shaking every time he hears my front door open, it’s probably the only perk left to him. Maybe I should block his ears up from time to time,” I mused.
“Aren't I just. The fucker can’t so much as scratch an itch! As for the harness, only to replace it or try a new one I expect. Early days so I’m still experimenting with everything. That’s a big part of the fun. Did you notice his boots?”
Trixie shook her head. “I was kinda fascinated with other things!”
“So, I noticed. Anyway, it’s a bit like having a life-sized,” I paused and laughed. “I was going to say Action man or what is the US one, GI Joe, doll but maybe Barbie would be more appropriate. Nothing very martial about him at present is there!”
“Now that’s an idea!”
Trixi had a thoughtful far away look in her eyes and knowing how she liked to treat her girlfriends; I knew just what sort of fantasy was running through her mind at that moment. I gave a little cough to bring her back from planet lezdom!
“I have him in heels at the moment working him upwards in height, as it were.”
I nodded. “Yup always had a fetish thing about high heels I…”
“Really, you never told me! They’re horrible things to wear, you know, so uncomfortable” she interrupted and then added, “Sexy though, I kinda like them on others.”
I pushed my chair back and glanced pointedly under the kitchen table at her ‘seen better days’ pink trainers before going on. “Yeah, well, that’s the point, honey. He’s 24/7, and why should comfort come into it. That animal isn’t here to live a life of luxury, no way. I know it sounds cruel, I mean, fuck, it is cruel, but so what, the damn things sole purpose in life now is to give me pleasure. Pleasure either by action or merely by thought, and boy, I’m 24/7 with a hard-on just thinking about it out there!”
Trixie was sipping her tea and looking at me very intently over the rim of her mug. I wondered if I’d overdone things.
“Shocked?” I asked her bluntly
She looked at me and made a wry face and then got up from the table and looked out of the window towards the barn, saying nothing for a full minute. Then she resumed her seat and shook her head.
“No,” she said with a sigh. “I know I should be, I mean talk about non-consensual, my fucking god, I ought to be shocked, shocked and sick you fucking pervert” she paused and toyed with her half-drunk mug of herbal tea. Revolting stuff but she liked it. “I don’t feel like that at all though, more, more excited I guess, I mean, sweet Jesus the more I think about it!”
“No, thank you. I mean, I mean, I know I should feel sorry for him, but I don’t, not one bit” she stopped again and sighed. “I know you are not a bad person, and I hope that I am not if you know what I mean? Yet, shit, fucking shit, I know I just want to get back over there. I mean, I know I’ve played rough a few times but nothing like this, my God there is no limit, is there, no limit whatsoever?” her voice raised a little and then almost faded as she repeated “whatsoever!”
“Oh yes, there damn well is,” I said firmly. “I don’t mind you borrowing, bashing or even bending it a bit but let’s not forget that’s a very rare and valuable animal, so I’m certainly going to set some pretty hard limits!” No more fucking up over bashed Lisa’s, I grinned and winked at her.
She looked at me, pouted and then we both laughed.
“He’s not that old, is he? And quite a good looking guy, I think so anyway from what few bits I can see through all this leather head stuff. He does look so sad though, sad and furious,” she giggled wickedly. “No, no, now behave yourself. I don’t think he likes me doing this, do you poor Bumbum” She giggled again and turned to me, shaking her head. “That just won’t do you know; I’m going to have to think up another name for the poor dear that one is so, so.”
“Appropriate given one of his main uses, I thought.”
“No, Dumbo, so silly and very much an occasional use now that I am here. This handsome boy deserves something better, don’t you, sweetie,” she cooed with complete insincerity.
We were back in the barn looking at my animal. Trixie was enthusiastically engaged in her second and considerably more comprehensive inspection of the beast. The pair of us had freed him from the bench and walked him over to the middle of the barn, and secured his posture collar to the chain that dangled for that purpose.
“It's an animal, honey, a beast not a guy or a boy, keep that in mind please.”
Maybe she heard me, perhaps not since she was clearly preoccupied with the squirming creature under her busy, inquisitive little hands. He couldn’t see her of course not with that high posture collar I kept him in. No doubt he could smell that exotic scent, perhaps feel the womanly heat she seemed to radiate, but I doubted that he could see the small but perfectly formed figure of Trixie even by rolling his eyes downwards. I had explained so to my girl as I walked him to this spot.
“Posture, honey, posture! Yeah, I know it looks uncomfortable, it's supposed to be uncomfortable. It makes him keep his head up high, makes him step out so proud looking and of course so damn dependent on me since he can’t see his own fucking feet even!”
“It does make his look, look sort of, like stately if you know what I mean, but it must hurt, so?”
“Nah, not too much once he gets used to it. More inconvenient than anything else. That’s the second; the first one wasn’t so kind on his neck, rubbed him raw under his chin until it bled, so I bought it instead. Got a little built-in pad that supports his chin a bit better rather than just a stiff leather edge.”
I hauled hard on his head rein bringing him to a halt to allow Trixie to stand on tiptoes to reach up to feel the thick black leather and probe its grip on his neck and elevated chin. “Kind of you,” she noted.
I grinned and prodded him forward. “Not really, collar mark two might be a little easier on his chin, but for beastie boy here nothing ever gets better, nor probably ever will,” I chuckled, pushing him toward the dangling tether. “Swings and roundabouts, babe. This one adds at least another ten degrees to that posture angle, so I don't reckon he gained all that much. Now stand still, stay, you big beast. Stay and stand proud for your new so sexy little Mistress here.” Chuckling aloud again as I did so.
“What’s so funny?”
I grinned and bent down, rapping an index fingernail against his steel cock cage. “When I said stand proud I wasn't referring to our cramped little jailbird here though was I boy,” I stood up and whispered non too quietly in his ear, pulling his head close with the short reins. “Much though it might like too, but don’t get any silly ideas, animal. Miss Trixie here is a pretty accomplished filly rider, I hear, so maybe she'll want to take you for a gallop now and then with her own toys, and we both know what I mean by that, eh boy?” I shook the reins hard and laughed, then snapped the dangling hook to his collar.
Trixie giggled and stood on tiptoe, pushing against him, trying to look into his eyes but found it impossible. Her low trainers and petite frame couldn’t possibly compete with his posture collar, natural height plus the four-inch stiletto knee boots tightly laced to his calves. There was a solid layer of concrete under the barn floor's scattered dirt, so no chance of those sexy slender heels not being able to support him.
“Can you make him bend down a bit for me? I want to look him straight in the eyes.”
I noticed that she was clutching his bottom cheeks tightly and lightly grinding herself into him as she spoke. Lustful little bitch, I wondered if she was even aware that she was doing it. I’ll bet ponyboy was, though! The moralities of the situation were certainly not troubling my little sexpot of a girlfriend anyway!
I sighed and threw her a mock salute. “Anything to oblige, madam,” I moved over to the wall and slacked off the chain, returned to him, freed the collar and snapped the tether onto one of his armbinders D rings down near his encased hands, then went back to haul on the chain. Pulling on that end of his armbinder forced him into a forward bending position as his restrained arms pulled up tight, bringing him down to a more convenient level for Trixie.
She had backed off, running a critical eye over the captive squirming figure and then made an upward motion. “A bit more, no more still. I do love those heels, but I want him up on his toes, heel and toes just touching, that’s it. Like that!”
I slipped a chain-link under the lower prong of a convenient cleat and stood watching on with my arms folded. My days of sole ownership and access to the creature were evidently now a thing of the past, I realised. Did I mind? I eyed the scene in front of me and decided that watching Trixie amuse herself with my (our) ponyboy would be very entertaining. JT downstairs was evidently of the same mind as my pants bulged outwards.
I made a mental note to fix that dud security camera or, better still install a better one or maybe a couple, as much for voyeuristic satisfaction as security—high definition. I could even install a small monitor for him in his stall, perhaps so that after we’d worked ourselves up at his expense, he could ‘enjoy’ watching us entertain each other in the master bedroom. Now wouldn't that be cruel?
“Is that your pony walker, thingy?” my thoughts were interrupted; Trixie had resumed her ‘hands-on’ inspection but had momentarily paused, looking upwards. I glanced up as well to the plank that I’d fixed to a convenient rafter via a long threaded greasy bolt. A couple of long leather straps hung down from it, one at each end.
“Yup, not very sophisticated. Manual only, but a whip provides the motivation! I’ve got a design on paper, motorised, and I think I’ve found a company on the internet that can make it for me. Got an idea for a sort of treadmill too that could generate a modicum of electricity, provided beastie boy puts enough effort into it!”
Trixie gave a short bark of laughter. “Oh, I bet I can provide the right sort of incentive, sweetie! Just wait till I get him trotting round and round in six-inch heels, won’t that look so sexy? Maybe some stockings as well for Tinkerbelle here!”
I raised my eyebrows. “Tinkerbelle?”
“Yep, that’s what I think we should call him, it rather.” She reached out to tap him on the nose with a finger. “Why not? I like it, and the pony here isn’t really a man any more, is it” she giggled.
“Stockings would sort of limit the target area though, honey” I nodded towards the numerous marks I’d left upon his thighs as my eyes followed her provocative little butt sashaying across to my toy collection. I noticed that ‘Tinkerbelle's’ head had also turned following the saucy little minx.
“No problem, it would add to my fun shredding them and dressing him, it, again. Cheap as fuck Chinese imports on eBay anyway, not as if I’ll be wearing the things! Why don't you head back to the house, honey? Go warm up that big bed of yours? Give me and Tink a little privacy,” she said, unhooking a wooden paddle and giving it an experimental slap on the palm of her other hand.
“Now go, shoo!”
I grinned then obediently obeyed the imperious wave of her hand. There was an ominous eager gleam in her eye as she turned and headed back towards a very nervous, agitated ponyboy!
My god, I thought, she wasn’t eating those chocolates; she was demolishing them, and I’d got scratched again as she’d writhed and screamed her way through an intense, prolonged orgasm. I wondered if we would be in for ‘seconds’, but she seemed to be more interested now in talking.
“Two months, really? How, I mean, like where did you find him, get him from. I mean, hell, you can’t just grab someone like, like…?” her voice trailed off in confusion.
I smiled at the recollection. “Dead easy actually and it was the other way around, he found me. This place is sorta way off the beaten track; you said that yourself the first time I brought you out here, remember?”
“Remote but not too remote. The main road is only six and a bit miles yonder as the crow flies, but by the track to get here, it’s twelve from the turnoff, which isn’t obvious and so easy to get lost as happened to that fine specimen. The fool should have turned back, but he kept right on going and finally came knocking on my door to ask for directions. End of the line in both senses. The fly to the spider!”
“Just like that?”
“Uh-huh,” I mimicked with a wink. “Well, truth to tell, it was a mite more complicated; he didn’t exactly volunteer to become a dumb captive animal” I laughed. “Not outright anyway, but when he found himself looking at the wrong end of my shotgun, he became very amenable to certain suggestions.”
“Oh, like laying face down on the floor with his hands behind his back. Clickety click with a set of handcuffs, a short piece of old rope hobbling his ankles and voila, one wild Ponyboy ready to be stabled.”
I grinned at her. “I’ll say he was! If you read a few ponyplay bdsm stories, the term crops up, but I use the term in both senses, Feral and angry. Boy, was he mad? Frightened, of course, but probably more mad than frightened, also very angry. He soon learned about fear, though,” I added, leaning over and picking up the short whip she’d discarded earlier.
“What did you do then” her eyes were bright, and she was leaning forward, her tongue licking around her lips with anticipatory interest, one hand absently waving a half-eaten chocolate?”
“If memory serves me right, I went and made myself a strong cup of coffee. I was on a bit of a high and needed to collect myself, get my mind into gear.”
“You are joking!” She sounded shocked, shocked and disappointed. So much so that I had to laugh, which clearly annoyed her.
‘No, cross my heart and all that rot,” I assured her quickly. “Everything had happened so damn quick, a moment of sheer impulsive madness! I mean, in a brief moment, I had gone from being Mr honest, nice guy to Mr twenty years and more behind bars with no parole option. I needed that bloody coffee, believe you me!
The chocolate popped between those luscious pink painted lips. “Umm, okay, sweetie, but I don’t want to know how many fucking biscuits you had with it or if you dunked them in your mug, get me?”
Strange, I thought. How can someone manage to smile sweetly and yet snarl at the same time!
“Ok, no need to get all foul-mouthed; it doesn’t suit you. To put it in a nutshell, then, he was starting to shout a bit, getting pissed off big time, so I shut him up with a big fat ball gag. I was kinda scared that someone might hear him. Silly, I know given the fact that hardly anyone ever comes near this place, and I've lost count of how many times he’s screamed his head off out in the barn." I paused thoughtfully before adding, “I think that was also the first step. Somehow once I couldn’t hear what he was saying, he sort of stopped being a person; sounds crazy, I know, but any thoughts I might have had about right and wrong stopped immediately at that point.”
“No second thoughts at all?”
I shook my head. “Nope, are you going to eat that whole box?”
“Greedy little bitch! Nope, not from the moment I held his nose and forced that hard red lump into his mouth. He became a dumb ‘It’ from that point onwards. I emptied his pockets, threw everything in the wood burner bar, some notes from his wallet. Hell, I didn’t even look at anything, nothing, would you believe I don’t even know what the fucker was called. Still don’t!
Trixie raised her eyebrows at that. “Really?”
“Yup, burned the lot, wallet, phone, notebook, comb, tissues, everything. I checked that he was secure and going nowhere, then went and looked through his car. Pulled a few things out and burnt them as well. Then drove his crappy little hatchback around the back and into the woods. There’s a small pond there, deep as fuck. They warned me about it when I bought this place, reckoned it might have been a big mine shaft or something at one time. Drove the thing straight at it and dived out the door just in time. Bloody thing bobbed twice in the middle then went down like a stone. I went back a few days later with a long pole, and I couldn’t feel the thing with the end of it, and no one in their right mind is likely to want to dive there. The water is thick with some horrible thick black slime!”
Trixi was silent for a moment then spoke softly. “So you got yourself a for-real live Ponyboy! You took one hell of a chance, you know? ”
I grinned at her and scratched at my chin with one finger. “I know, totally mad, bad and crazy, but somehow it just happened. Shit, I mean, suppose he’s been somebody important. I go cold sometimes just thinking about how crazy it was!”
“Crazy does not even come near lover-boy. My God, and no one ever came looking or anything?”
“Nope, odd, really odd, and I never heard or read anything either. The fucker just turned up and promptly disappeared into a black hole. Came out of nowhere and is now going nowhere. Maybe I ought to have looked at his stuff, but at the time, it just didn’t seem important. Even less so now.”
Trixie looked at me and shook her head for the umpteenth time, and I knew exactly what she meant. I thought back a couple of months. Months that seemed to have flown by since I’d first peeled the clothes from my captive and then did likewise to his hide with my whip!
“I heard a knock at the door, and there he was talking about being lost and waving a map. I’d been reading one of my ponygirl books the night before, and, hell, I didn’t even look at him too closely. It just sort of happened almost like it was meant to if you believe in all that destiny rubbish.”
“One brand new ponyboy delivered right to your doorstep, all right and ready to enter your smelly old barn!”
“Kinda, I suppose. Thinking back, what I got was one wild, one very wild and very angry mustang!”
“But you broke him, trained him?”
I grinned again as I noted the gleam in her eyes and the way her tongue absently licked around her lips again in that sensual manner, chocolates forgotten. My girl was definitely back in heat!
I considered the status of my makeshift stables, unwilling occupant, for a moment before I replied.
“Let’s say somewhat bent at this stage rather than broken, and perhaps part trained," I conceded. “But we both have plenty of time, and neither of us is going anywhere, him least of all," I finished and pushed myself back against the pillows. Trixie wasn’t the only one feeling randy. J.T. was perking up and showing renewed interest. ”Not finishing them off?” I nodded at the box of chocolates she’d just stowed back on top of the bedside cabinet.
“Nope, later," she answered, swinging herself off the bed and collecting the dog whip. “Time for a little more ‘bending’ I think. I feel the need for squeals! Don’t bother getting up. I’m gonna need that TopGun again shortly, sweetie!”
“Hey," I called after her and then her head poked back around the open doorway. “What about those” I pointed to a tiny discarded thong and the abbreviated shorts.”
“What about them? “ she giggled. “Hot work in there, so I ditched my top, but the pony didn’t seem too interested; first time I have ever been ignored, can’t imagine why?
I nodded at the whip in her hand. “Yeah, I wonder why!”
She giggled mischievously, and once again, the wooden stairs reverberated to heavy steps. They stopped and then started upwards. A blonde head reappeared back around the doorpost.
“Hey! You remember Anabelle Holmes, that big brunette cow at my office? Yes, you do; you danced with her at last year's Christmas party and spent most of the night ogling her boobs, you bastard!”
“Tall, bit snobbish, all tits and legs, easy on the eye too as I recall. Thought you detested her. What of it?”
Trixie grinned wickedly. “Split up with her partner a month back, lives all on her own in a lonely cottage out in the country just like you.”
The head disappeared, and the downward steps resumed. “So?” I shouted after her.
“I hate the stupid stuck-up bitch, but she foolishly seems to think I’m a sort of trusted confidant. Maybe I should visit her one weekend, suggest a girlie outing somewhere, could even end up driving down here!”
I sat up in alarm. “What the hell for? Are you crazy or something!” The reply that drifted up was faint, but I heard every word.
“You’ve got a big empty barn Dumbo, and like you, she’s no neighbours. Such a shame to waste all that space and remember our pillow talk; you weren’t the only one with that particular fantasy…” I didn’t hear her close the door, but a moment later, my ears heard a distinct crack followed by a muted agonised squeal.
I lay back on the pillow with my hands behind my head, thoughtfully regarding my erect J.T. It was indeed a big barn, and Anabelle was a…