The Reluctant Pony

Chapter 10

I blinked against the bright light when April removed my blinkers at last. I found myself in a warm barn with hay filled stalls.

I’d had to wait still bound onto the anal plug in the horse box while April had unfastened my companion and led her away. After a short while she’d returned and collected me. April had led me, still blinkered, from the horse box, across a cobbled yard and into the barn.

I looked around me and  saw that in two of the stalls were ponygirls. They were naked, without all the straps and accoutrements of the ponies from the show. However, both were wearing short ankle length pony boots, black gloves of some sort and of course the ever present bit and bridle. I was surprised to see that they weren’t bound in any way as far as I could see and appeared to be happy standing in their stalls.

“OK, let’s get you sorted.” April reached down, her hand caressing the wet folds of my pussy, “what a naughty filly you are! We need to get you cleaned up. It’s been a long day for you, a bit overwhelming eh? Be brave, there’s just a little bit more.”

She began unbuckling the straps around my body, my previous hopes that my ponygirl experience would be over didn’t return though. I guessed that April would not have gone to the trouble of driving me here if she didn’t have something else planned for me.

“Now then I’ve got some lovely little mittens for you, just like the other fillies have. You’ll love them,” April said as she took hold of my left hand. “Make a fist for me.” She gently curled my fingers into my palm. Then she began to pull something tight onto my balled up hand. Finally I could feel her buckling the glove so that it couldn’t be removed with its attached wrist strap. Now I looked I could see that the two ponies’ hands were balled into fists within their gloves.

She repeated the process with my right hand and then she began to unfasten my arms. Within a few moments I found myself basically free. When the terrible little bells were removed from my nipples, the pain of the blood returning to my numbed teats was horrendous. I’d never felt anything sting so much and if it hadn’t been for the bit that remained in my mouth I would have screamed. Apart from the bit and it’s bridle around my head I only wore the new gloves, everything else had been removed, even the torturous boots.

It felt great to able to stand flat on my feet again. And with my elbows unbound I was able to stretch the muscles in my shoulders and arms for the first time in hours. I looked at my hands, while April collected the harness, the mittens effectively made my hands useless.

“All this stuff will need to go back to the club, they only lend it to novices.”

I was free for the first time in hours, but I was naked and couldn’t use my hands. My clothes were who knows how many miles away and I had no idea where I was. Part of me wanted to make a break for it and get away, but the rational part of me knew that I couldn’t do that. I had no where to go and besides there was no way I going to go running through the countryside naked (even though I supposed I’d been doing that all day).

“Right, I’m going to remove your bridle, and I don’t want to hear a peep out of you. If I do then I’ll take this whip to your backside and you’ll be sporting this punishment gag before you can say “ponygirls don’t speak”. She held up a wicked looking whip in one hand. In her other hand was a strange dildo shaped contraption, which I thought, if put into my mouth, would force it’s cock right to the back of my throat. I certainly didn’t want to be forced to wear that, as bad as the bit was, this looked much worse. Not to mention having her whip my bum with the whip.

I judged that I could run faster than April. However, I didn’t know where I could go and it seemed that I had to rely on her for anything until I could free my hands. I was also certain that April was stronger than me and that she’d be able to whip me if she wanted.

So I resolved to remain quiet, at least for the time being.

My jaw ached with a vengeance once the evil bit had been removed and my tongue felt very sore, so I wasn’t actually sure that I could have spoken intelligibly had I wanted to anyway.

April gently pulled me over to a tiled corner with a shower head over it. As I  stepped onto the quarry tiled floor I realised that she wanted me to shower in front of her, to wash off the sweat, grime and dust of my humiliating day. However, as embarrassing as it would have been to shower in front of this young woman, the reality turned out to be far far worse.

Instead of turning on the shower for me to use, she filled a bucket with hot soapy water from a tap on the wall and she proceeded to wash me down. April used a rough wash cloth to soap up my bare body.

She washed my back and arms first. I shivered at her touch even though the water was hot. It felt so wrong for someone to be washing me. Worse, it was clear that to her it was just a job to be done, there was no eroticism in it at all.

Then she washed my hair, rubbing the soap into it thoroughly before rinsing it out. That actually felt very good. I love it when the hairdresser washes my hair and grooms it. Even though I was naked and under her control I felt the familiar relaxing pleasure as she pulled a brush through my long tresses.

Next she moved onto my front and spread soap over my breasts. When the rough cloth was rubbed across my still hard nipples I involuntarily let out a loud gasp – they were still very tender from having the clamps on them all day. April shot me a warning glance but continued to wash my breasts.

Then she moved down and onto my bottom. To my continued embarrassment she rubbed the wash cloth roughly between buttocks and over my sensitive, abused, rosebud. It had had much more attention today than in the rest of my life. She concentrated on it saying that it had to be kept clean for my tail. I felt so humiliated.

Happily she moved onto my legs before long and rubbed down my sore leg muscles, firstly thighs and then calves. She lifted each foot in turn and washed each, even paying attention to the gap between each toe.

I had been anticipating her final move since she started applying soap to the wash cloth. I spread my legs a little at her direction and she deftly stroked the recharged material back and forth across my still swollen pussy. As before she knew exactly how to elicit a reaction from me as she rubbed little circles around my clitoris. I had to bite my lip to stop myself from moaning.

She continued to play with me for much more time than she’d spent on any other part of my body. I found my excitement returning quickly as she manipulated my pussy. She had clearly given up the pretence of washing me. April knew precisely what she was doing and I was nearing the orgasm that had been denied me during the long journey from the pony show. The wash cloth was soon discarded and her fingers were directly stroking my soft wet flesh.

I remembered when Mrs. Hurst had touched me in the same way earlier. I was so terribly embarrassed once more. I remembered thinking that that had been the most embarrassing moment of my life, but now it was happening again. I’d never masturbated myself to orgasm but here I was being masturbated by a stranger having already been brought to orgasm multiple times against my will.

April continued to caress me expertly and I unintentionally found myself bucking my hips and pushing my slick pussy onto her probing fingers. To my shame I heard her snort a little laugh as she recognised my burning need and pushed her hand back into my crotch.

In a mirror of my first orgasm I began to hump against her hand, trotting as Mrs. Hurst put it. As my pleasure grew I sped up, all pretence gone that I was an unwilling participant in my masturbation.

However, April had an evil streak. As I began to gallop she withdrew her hand leaving me gasping for more. I was desperate for release and brought my own gloved hand to my crotch to try and complete what she had started. April though quickly slapped my hand away.

“Oh no you don’t. You be a good filly and keep your naughty little hooves away from your randy cunt. Ponies aren’t allowed to touch themselves, their cunts are the properties of their owners. They don’t get to choose when they get to cum. Ponies that perform well may be allowed to cum as a reward, but only with the permission of their betters,” she mocked me and pulled my hands away from my needy pussy.

I groaned and with my body quivering from the denied pleasure I couldn’t resist as she brought my hands behind me once more and used a clip to attach the straps around my wrists together. My brief freedom lost once again.