Nicola King sat in the beer garden of the Dog and Fox nursing a gin and tonic. It was early Friday evening and she had arranged to meet her best friend, Sara Hamilton-Finch, for a quick drink after work. In fact best friend had become somewhat of an understatement recently.
Sara and Nicola had first met at veterinary college, Nicola the bookworm with a lower middle class upbringing in Manchester and Sara the effortlessly intelligent socialite from darkest Surrey. On the face of it not a match made in heaven but they had hit it off immediately and been best friends ever since they met that first day as they both searched for the lecture hall on that first morning.
When they had both finished their studies Sara had returned to her family estate to act as resident vet and Nicola had taken a position in a small family run practice in Cheshire. She remembered only to well the first few weeks in her new position, a ceaseless stream of sick cats and dogs, not exactly the glamorous start she had been hoping for. Certainly not what she had in mind when she had embarked on her training.
Ever since her childhood Nicola had dreamt of being involved in the exciting world of horse racing, as a ten-year-old girl she had driven her parents crazy, talking of nothing other than my little pony and the horse of the year show. They had never been able to afford for Nicola to have a pony of her own so she had had to content herself with magazines and toys, knowing one day she would get what she really wanted, to care for horses, real horses and get paid for it. Unlike most childhood fantasies however Nicola had pursued hers into adult life. She had studied hard for her O and A levels and going on to earn a scholarship place at a prestigious veterinary college.
It was during her second month in family pet hell that Nicola had received a call from Sara, who was positively breathless with excitement. Sara’s dad had a friend who ran a large animals practice, specialising in show horses, he needed a new vet quickly and Sara had put Nicola forward for the job. The only hitch was she needed to get to the interview for 9 O’clock the following morning.
Nicola had moved heaven and earth to make it in time and had gone on to get the job as well. She owed Sara a big favour. Not only had she changed her life with a new career doing exactly what she wanted, but the girl had also sorted her out with a small house on her Father’s estate to boot. Best friend was definitely an understatement. The only thing the seemingly omnipotent Sara had not been able to sort out had been her love life. Nicola knew it was only a matter of time though, Sara knew everyone worth knowing and was constantly arranging parties and get togethers for her friends and associates.
Nicola was snapped out of her reverie by her name being shouted out across the garden in a plummy Surrey accent, Sara Hamilton-Finch had arrived.
“Nick! Another G & T OK?”
Nicola nodded her approval as Sara made her presence known. She was suddenly aware of an increase in interest in her from the surrounding tables as various people adjusted their view of the quiet brunette sitting in the corner. Nicola was a tall girl with long legs and a firm, although not overly large bust, her long chestnut hair was swept back in a pony tail. She was considered pretty, but not overly so, normal looking but attractive none the less, she certainly seemed to have gained a number of admirers now her allegiance with Sara had been publicly revealed. She found herself blushing slightly as a table of men nearby turned to look at her, Nicola averted her eyes immediately, suddenly shy.
About half an hour later Sara finally arrived at the table clutching two G & T’s to her ample chest, barely covered as it was by her skimpy crop top. Unlike Nicola, Sara had never been shy about revealing what she thought of as her best assets. Sara’s tits had been famous across the campus not just for their size and gravity defying abilities but for their tendency to be exposed in public whenever Sara had had one to many. No matter how humiliating or embarrassing the event was however Sara always managed to come up smelling of roses, much to Nicola’s annoyance. Nicola eyed her best friend, she was as tall as her, but with long blonde hair, again in a fashionable pony tail. She had inherited her Mothers muscular thighs, along with her breasts, a hang over from years in the saddle, as Sara cheerfully told anyone who cared to ask. She was popular, funny and above all else loyal, Nicola couldn’t have asked for a better friend.
The two old friends exchanged Kisses and sat down to chew the fat as they often did after a hard weeks work.
“So Nick how goes it at the practice, getting to play with your precious horses?”
Nicola ignored her friend. Sara had been around horses all her life and found Nicola’s fascination a source of constant amusement.
“Actually you’ll be pleased to hear that I have been asked to attend Fontshall Manor house tomorrow to look at a couple of Mares over there”
She stuck her tongue out at her friend, to make the point. The manor was well known locally as a centre for excellence in all things equestrian. Nicola wanted her friend to know that she was capable of getting by on her own merits. She was also secretly thrilled to have been asked to go along, apparently Lady Fontshall had asked for her specifically.
“Oh darling well done, Lady F is real picky about who touches her livestock. She’s a friend of the family so say hi to her from me.”
Nicola rolled her eyes, Sara knew absolutely everyone, it should of come as no suprise to her that Sara and the richest woman in the county were old acquintances.
“Seriously Nicky well done, that’s a real feather in your cap, she knows absolutely everyone on the circuit, don’t fuck it up for gods sake”
“Don’t worry Ill try not too. I’m seeing her first thing in the morning at her yard, I’m nervous as hell. What’s she like Sara? I really want her to like me, tell me all, go on be a sweetheart”
Sara took a sip of her drink and took a moment to decide what she should tell her friend. She couldn’t tell her she had recommended her to Lady Fontshall, poor Nicola would throw a fit about that. She also knew she couldn’t tell her the real reason for her appointment, not yet anyway. She decided to err on the side of caution.
“Well she’s drop dead gorgeous for a start and very bossy, likes things to be perfect for all her animals, loves them all dearly. The most important thing is to be yourself she can’t stand fakes, don’t worry darling you’ll be fine”
A slightly odd look passed over Sara’s face for a second, Nicola noticed it but put it down to the Gin and satisfied she knew all she needed to about Lady Fontshall steered the conversation onto other matters….like stable boys she fancied.
Nicola ducked out of the pub at about 9.30 and headed home, leaving Sara at the centre of a crowd of admiring men, all desperate to snatch a date with the blond. Once safely ensconced in her little cosy house she poured herself a glass of Shiraz and fired her laptop up. Quick check of e-mail before bed, she thought to herself, then off to bed.
As she logged in to her Hotmail account only to be greeted with the usual accumulation of spam mail. Advertisement’s for penis enlargement and credit consolidation. There was however one piece of mail that caught her eye, she didn’t recognise the address but it was a large file so she decided to open it anyway. There wasn’t any text, just two pictures, slowly being downloaded onto the screen.
As more and more of the pictures were revealed Nicola took an increased interest due to their obviously equestrian nature. The first thing to come into view was an older women dressed in full hunt clothing, even down to the top hat and bright red jacket, she was seated on a leather Chesterfield sofa. She looked extremely rich and powerful, her back ramrod straight and her blonde hair done up in a bun barely visible beneath the hat. As the picture completed it revealed a younger girl, about Nicola’s age and extremely pretty sitting at her feet with her head in the older woman’s lap. The girl was wearing a normal summer dress and shoes. The older woman was combing the girl’s very long hair with a brush that reminded Nicola of the ones she so frequently came across in horse yards. The younger girl had a look of thinly disguised contentment on her face as the older woman, who had a similar look about her, groomed her.
Both women were fully clothed and there was no element of nudity in the picture. It seemed in invoke a sense of caring and nurturing. Both women seemed to be happy with their positions, even if one of them was being openly submissive to the other.
The second picture was in the same vein, another older woman, a different one this time, but again fully attired in hunt colours. She was leaning nonchalantly against a post and rail fence that surrounded a large sand filled training ring. Leaning over the top post of the ring was another young girl, about 18 years old this time and wearing jodhpurs and a t-shirt. The older woman was holding her hand up to the girls mouth and looked to be feeding her a sugar lump, which the younger girl seemed only to pleased to accept without the use of her hands, which seemed to be behind her back, almost as if she was restrained.
Nicola wasn’t sure what to make of the pictures, she had of course come across porn over the net before and considered herself broad minded, but this stuff wasn’t the usual cocks and cunt’s stuff it was far more darkly erotic than that. The thrill was far more of an implied nature.
Nicola thought of all the times she had watched as horses were trained, how many times had she seen sugar lumps offered as rewards? She caught herself wondering what the young girl had done to earn such a reward. Her mind was suddenly awash with images of whips, reins and mouth bits. She was aware of a dampness developing in her panties, her nipples were tingling and she couldn’t resist giving one a gentle tug through her dressing gown as she imagined herself being petted by an older woman.
God Nicola King you need to get laid, look at you getting turned on by a couple of pervy pictures, shame on you. Despite her protestations however she couldn’t resist slipping a hand inside her panties, teasing the slick folds of flesh as she groaned, eyes shut, pushing her fingers deep inside her sopping cunt now as she approached her orgasm. Nicola couldn’t help wishing that she was owned, a piece of property to be looked after and cared for by a loving owner, she wanted to be used for other peoples pleasure, a sex slave something to be toyed with and then put away for another time. The fantasy of submission was unleashing a flood of wetness between her outstretched thighs now as she arched her back her orgasm ripping through her, eyelids fluttering as she struggled to keep her grip on reality. She slumped down in her chair exhausted but satisfied, a huge grin plastered over her sweaty face, she hadn’t some like that for years. Exhausted she regained her breath and decided it was time to go to bed, she had an early start in the morning and wanted to look her best. She deleted the pictures deciding that someone from college had sent them from a ghost mail account for a laugh. She retired to her room still feeling aroused but determined to get a good night’s sleep.
Nicola took her gown off leaving her standing in her bra and soaked panties and got into bed. She tossed and turned for ages, trying to rationalise why she had got so flustered from looking at the pictures. Nicola sighed contentedly as she toyed with her throbbing clit, her mind replaying the events of earlier on as her other hand roughly tugged at her swollen nipple. She hadn’t been this turned on for ages, usually a nice hard come sorted her right out but tonight one wasn’t going to be enough for her as her questing fingers once again slipped between her moistened thighs. As she played with herself her mind wandered back to the pictures, the look of calm and acceptance on the younger girls faces was somehow tranquil and at the same time arousing and slightly sinister.
Nicola was slowly realising that the turn on for her was the look of contentment on both of the young girls faces, as though they had accepted their positions as pets, pets who were being taken care of, loved by caring owners. All pressure of being a human had been removed, they were entirely the responsibility of their owners. Nicola decided, in a moment of pre-orgasmic clarity, that deleting the pictures from her mail account was a big mistake. She reluctantly stopped her toying and made her way back to her laptop, switching it on quickly and almost frantically connecting to the net hoping against hope that Hotmail hadn’t cleared her trash box in the last two hours.
She was in luck and quickly restored the mail to her inbox. While I’m here I might as well take one last look at them, she thought. Nicola steeled herself and opened the pictures up so they again became real, rather than some half-remembered image in her mind. Once again the pictures worked their magic inside her head, previously unknown feelings were welling inside her, tumblers in her mind clicked into place opening new pathways in her brain. She found herself wanting to be owned, cared for, loved and nurtured, just as she had treated her My little Pony dolls all those years ago. She wanted the same things now, why hadn’t she realised this earlier? All those relationship’s where she had conformed to the stereotypical intelligent strong woman, when all she wanted was to be owned, not a little bit but completely.
Nicola was so close to coming now, eyelids fluttering as she played scenarios of her submission in her head, her mind creating images where she was the pony being trained in a ring for some faceless Mistress. Being made to trot in a circle, knees lifting high in the air as she prances for her owner, so eager to please, desperate for some recognition, a sign that she was a good pony. At last her orgasm consumes her, head lolling as it crashes over her, beads of sweat pricking the skin on her breasts, arms and face. As she slowly regains composure she comes down to earth with a bump, switches off her PC and scuttles to bed, a little scared at the feelings that have been roused inside her. As soon as she is finished at the manor tomorrow she decides to have a meaningful chat with Sara about getting her a boyfriend, some good hard fucking should sort her right out.
The next morning dawns bright and crisp, a perfect summer’s morning. Nicola runs around frantically trying to get ready for her appointment, all thoughts of the previous evenings revelations gone from her mind now as she concentrates on what might be the second major leg up of her career in as many months. What to wear, only one chance to make a first impression, how many times has her father told her that? A pair of close fitting trousers and a polo shirt should do it. Not to prissy not too untidy, just the trick.
Nicola got into her battered old land rover and made her way to Fontshall Manor, diving down the leafy lanes at the heart of Surrey, breathing in the smell of wild flowers and manure that permeates the air. Glad to be in a job she loves, working with animals she loves too. The thought of horses returns her mind to the pictures, Nicola feels as though her appetite has been wetted, she wants to see more, understand more about how this bizarre form of submission came about. Once again the bookworm in her is taking over. Realistically she knows she will never get involved with anything like that so she might as well read about it instead. To her shame she can feel her thighs getting sticky again as the thought of submitting herself to another woman overtakes her. It crosses her mind that she should be submitting to a man if anyone at all, she is straight after all! Somehow that wouldn’t seem right to her though. What do men know about horses? How to care for them and love them, nothing she decides, for the sake of her fantasies it will be a woman who owned her. She has always considered herself straight, but also appreciates the female form, how many times has she wished her breasts were as full and shapely as Sara’s? She resolves to investigate the matter further later on this evening over a nice glass of wine in the privacy of her own bedroom, with nothing for company but her trusty dildo and laptop.
As the front wheels of her Land Rover crunch on the gravel drive leading to the manor Nicola shakes her head and tries to get a grip on herself. Be professional, be professional, do a good job here and who knows what might happen. The driveway stretches on into the distance and she can make out the manor house through the Lebanese cedar trees. The building is enormous, a rambling collection of oak timbered buildings all connected to form an imposing country estate. The stables themselves are down a short driveway into which Nicola turns She swings into the courtyard of the stable block and is waved at by a suited 21 year old woman. Nicola immediately notices her incredibly long hair swept back into a ponytail. Once again her mind is putting images in her head that she would rather weren’t there.
“Hi you must be Miss Nicola King, I am Suzanne Roach, personal assistant to Lady Fontshall. Welcome to Fontshall Manor”
Nicola accepts the outstretched hand and shakes, it as she does so she takes a moment to drink in the vision of corporate efficiency that stands in front of her. Suzanne Roach is wearing a pressed charcoal suit jacket, tapered to accentuate her slim waist and firm high breasts. Her skirt is slit up the side exposing a hint of finely toned thighs encased in black stockings. Nicola immediately decides that Suzanne couldn’t be dressed more inappropriately for a horse yard if she tried.
“Please follow me Miss King, her Ladyship is out breaking a horse in and won’t be back for a minute or two. Why don’t I show you round the stable block”
“That would be great, how many horses does her Ladyship keep here?”
“About five at the moment with a further ten out on shows at any one time”
“Wow fifteen horses and stabling for thirty, how come the place is so empty?”
“Her Ladyship makes use of all the stabling facilities at the manor year round”
Sniffed Suzanne.
That struck Nicola as odd, what the hell do all the other stalls have in them? Her train of thought was suddenly interrupted when Suzanne’s pager goes off.
“Please do excuse me her Ladyship is returning, please wait in the tack room and she will be along shortly”
With a swish of her skirt and a click of her heels Suzanne turned and made her way to the front of the yard leaving Nicola to watch her tight ass sway off into the distance.
Nicola made her way to the tack room and stepped inside, catching her breath, the room is enormous and the walls are covered with all manner of horse tack, bridles, saddles, bits of all shapes and sizes line every available blank piece of space. The smell of leather is overwhelming. She wandered idly around touching the buckles and clasps, stroking them almost, as once again she walks the thin line between erotic imagery and the real world. Her mind wanders, hand drifting to her already hard nipples, a familiar throb building between her thighs, she knows that the heat will build until the tell tale sighs of wetness develop. In her mind she can see herself, naked and glistening with sweat, being fitted with a bridle and bit by a stable girl or being sponged down after a hard session in the dressage ring, her thighs shaking from the exertion.
“She’s in the tack room your Ladyship and I’ve made sure the video camera is on as well”
Lady Fontshall looked up as her favourite pony addressed her. She was leaning against a stable door surveying one of her other fillies, Sonia, a pretty little brunette whom had just been exercised. A stable lad was rubbing the pony all over with a damp cloth, much to her obvious enjoyment. Her nipples are clearly erect, standing out proudly aching to be touched, she was obviously very aroused and in need of attention. Something the stable boy would normally be only too happy to administer. However the presence of the stable owner was preventing him exceeding his duty on this occasion. Sonia showed her frustration by playfully rubbing her legs against the boy as he tried hard to maintain a professional air in front of his employer.
She looks a picture her bit crossing her opened mouth via a series of leather straps and buckles that circle her pretty head. Her hair swept back in the obligatory ponytail. She is also wearing a tail fashioned from her own hair and inserted into her backside via a rather large butt plug, stockings and heels complete the picture of a submissive pony girl. The combination of her submission, humiliation and the rather large insertion in her rectum is causing Sonia not only acute embarrassment but heightened arousal as well. A combination of feelings only to familiar to her since she came to Fontshall Manor over three months ago.
“Well done Suzanne, what do you think of my newest target?”
“She’s a bit plain your Ladyship” Sniffed Suzanna.
“Mmmmmmm Sara said she looked delicious when she got dressed up. You sound almost jealous my dear. I was thinking about giving her to Sophia as an eighteenth birthday present. What do you think?”
Suzanna smiled at that, Sophia was Lady Fontshall’s youngest daughter and a spoiled brat of the first order. She had been brought up among adult ponies and had a reputation among the various pony girls and boys around the stables as being a bit heavy with the crop. Suzanne herself had still got the whelts on her backside from the last time Sophia had taken her for her exercise three days ago. She was also a randy little cow! Suzanne had been made to serve between the young Ladyship’s sweaty thighs for hours, all the time being lightly flogged with a short riding crop, only serving to add insult to injury. Sophia had also let some of the stable lad’s fuck Suzanne while she looked on, something Lady Fontshall would have thoroughly disapproved of. Much as Suzanne hated to admit it she loved to be used by them, they were so common and uncouth and made a nice change from the landed gentry she was used to being serviced by. The fact that it was against not only her own will but that of her Mistress’s made it all the more delicious. Suzanne would have been the first to admit that Sophia was a gorgeous creature, but sometimes the pain just wasn’t worth it.
“An ideal choice your ladyship”
That’ll serve the little tart right Suzanna thought to herself. Ever since word had filtered down to the stable that her Ladyship was looking to recruit the new vet Suzanne had been getting the feeling she was to be replaced, or worse still sold on at an auction. She had worked hard to fulfil her potential and was a champion show pony in her own right. The last thing she needed was her Mistress getting a crush on some untrained new girl!
Nicola was positively breathless by now, the tack room was dreadfully hot and the combination of sweat pricking her skin and the erotic images filling her head were starting to conspire against her, making her most uncomfortable. Her panties were very damp by now and oh how she longed to reach a hand inside and provide some relief, but she dare not for fear of being caught red handed by her Ladyship. Her nipples were rubbing mercilessly against the fabric of her bra, which all of a sudden seemed to be two sizes to small for her. She needed to get out of that room and have a good come somewhere. It was the only solution.
Nicola was really struggling hard to control herself now, she longed to take one of the many horse bits off the wall and try it on for size. Feel it constraining her movements, controlling her, regulating her. She felt sure that this sort of behaviour would not be condoned by any of the regulars at the Dog and Fox. What was becoming of her? All because of some stupid junk e-mail she had received. She hated to admit it to herself but the mail had woken feelings inside her that she hadn’t previously been able to admit to. She needed to be dominated and owned! She could see it now, all those “nineties” men she had gone out with, men only to willing to let her do her own thing, in bed and out. Men who knew how to cook and iron reasonable men, With hindsight, that wonderful thing, she would have gladly submitted to their needs and perversions, if only she had been told, not asked. She pinched her nipples hard with both hands, causing a sigh to escape from her dry lips, eyes shut once again as her mind presented her with images of her subjugation in the dressage ring. Her faceless Mistress playfully whipping her as she pranced, knees high in the air, tail swishing behind her, sand kicking up with every footstep she took.
From outside the tack room Lady Fontshall smiled to herself as she peered into the gloom of the room through the cracked and dusty window in the barn door. The poor girl was obviously agitated, but Clarissa decided to save the voyeuristic pleasure of watching her new find until the evening when she would replay the video in full at her leisure. She made a big show of fiddling with the door handle to give the poor girl time to compose herself and with a big push flung the door open and presented herself, in all her glory, to the slightly glazed eyes of Nicola King.
Nicola gasped as the door flew open and she was presented with the magnificent sight of Lady Clarissa Fontshall in all her glory, standing in the doorway, backlit by the morning sun. She was at least six foot tall, her riding boots accentuating her shapely calves. Jodhpurs encased her firm thighs and clung suggestively to her backside and crotch, her red riding jacket strained to contain her large bust as Nicola’s eyes swept ever upward. Lady Fontshall was striking to say the least, high cheekbones and piercing blue eyes surrounded a mouth liberally coated in red lipstick, her long blonde hair swept up into a bun atop her head covered with a net to keep it in place when wearing a riding hat.
“You must be Miss King, I have heard only good things about you my dear”
Nicola was struggling to regain her professional composure and couldn’t for the life of her think why, her body would not relinquish its arousal making it hard for Nicola to behave normally. She had met many of the landed gentry since her arrival in the county and was never normally phased. There was something about her Ladyship however that eluded her, something powerful, something controlling, something scarily erotic. Nicola wasn’t sure whether to bob a curtsy or throw herself at the woman’s feet and beg forgiveness for some unseen crime.
The dilemma was resolved for her by Lady Fontshall who put out a hand for Nicola to shake. Before Nicola had a chance to reconcile what was happening, the way in which the hand was presented changed subtly, the angle altered making it impossible for Nicola to do anything other than kiss the hand of her Ladyship. Something she did without thinking eyes closed as she bent her head to lightly brush her lips over the proffered manicured digits.
Nicola’s heart was doing ten to the dozen, her mouth dry as she realised what was happening. She jerked her eyes open and upwards to see Lady Fontshall smiling at her, approvingly. Nicola felt that some unspoken words had passed between them, a hierarchy established upon which there was no going back now.
“Well done my dear its nice to see you know how to behave amongst your betters. Now let me take a look at you”
Lady Fontshall was pleased to note the fire of disapproval flash in Nicola’s eyes as she slighted her upbringing. She didn’t want things to be to easy when she was having Nicola broken in as the new pony girl at the manor. She circled the young woman noting the erect nipples and flushed cheeks. Drinking in the girl next door beauty that had first attracted her to the young vet over a month ago when first she set eyes on her at Sara Hamilton-Finch’s father’s house.
Lady Fontshall and Major Hamilton-Finch had been discussing some new stock in the confines of his personal office when Nicola and Sara had shown up and gone straight to Sara’s room. The Major, dirty old rascal that he was, had had video camera’s installed a long time ago in his daughters room so he could keep an eye on his own little filly, as he liked to call Sara. The pair of them had watched, in states of increasing arousal, as the two young women had tried on various dresses and a fair amount of each other’s underwear as well. Clarissa had not mentioned anything to the Major but she could have sworn she had caught Nicola looking at Sara in a more than friendly manner on a number of occasions. She had resolved to recruit and train the young vet that very day.
Nicola was feeling more and more uncomfortable as her meeting with Her Ladyship continued, she was being eyed up like a horse at an auction and the feeling worried her a little, not least because she caught herself hoping that her Ladyship liked what she saw. She was quivering slightly and more than a little breathless. The hand kissing incident had shaken her more than she cared to admit and things only seemed to be getting worse, she felt that she had to return the meeting to a more normal level.
“So should I call you your Ladyship? Or would you prefer something more informal?”
Nicola was chancing her arm a bit, she hoped her Ladyship would not disapprove of her blatant attempt to lighten the mood.
“You may call me My Lady, I haven’t decided what I am going to call you yet my dear!”
“Yes My Lady”
Nicola couldn’t seem to stop herself, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to address this obviously very well off and powerful woman in such a manner. She was slightly perplexed at her Ladies unwillingness to call Nicola by her given name but felt sure all would become clear in the not too distant future.
“So My Lady about these horses you would like me to look at. Can we get started?”
“I must admit my dear I have got you here under false pretences. There are no horses at present that need your attention, I simply wanted to meet you and see how you are as a person”
“My Lady I am afraid I don’t understand, I thought you wanted someone to take a look at your horses. I’m afraid that’s what I do, you did ask for me specifically”
“My dear don’t worry your pretty head about it”
Lady Fontshall gently held Nicola’s chin, moving her face back and forth so she could see it in the light
“I have a position at the manor house that I am interviewing for and someone thought you would fill the role impeccably!”
Nicola had no idea what the woman was going on about, she was slightly put out that she had wasted her entire morning running around and waiting for this woman who was acting very strangely towards her. She did however manage to adjust her attitude slightly just in case the role would suit her.
“What sort of position?”
“I am afraid my dear that I can’t tell you at the moment, but rest assured the role will become abundantly clear to you in the foreseeable future”
Nicola felt as though she was taking part in a conversation that she knew only half off, Lady Fontshall was making it hard for her to think straight as she circled her and touched her with a frankness that Nicola found slightly disturbing and at the same time undeniably arousing. Was this woman turning her on? The combination of the heat, leather and odd porn she had been receiving was definitely having a detrimental effect on her physche.
“Fascinating isn’t it”
Nicola was once again wrong footed. She felt seriously out of her depth already and had no idea what tangent her host was going off on now.
“I’m sorry My Lady, what’s fascinating?”
“The tack used to control and dominate horses or ponies”
Clarissa couldn’t help herself, as she arched an eyebrow at the young women in a playful manner, wondering what sort of reaction her comments would illicit.
“I’ve never really thought about it My Lady”
“Really? Never?”
Nicola blushed despite herself, suddenly aware of the dampness returning to her thighs, her heart rate quickening as once again she was brought, against her will, into the un-real world of domination and submission she had unwittingly discovered.
“Anyway my Dear please don’t think I have been wasting your time I can assure you that you are a front runner for the position on offer. I feel sure you will find the package to your liking I’ll send you the details now Good Day”
With that Lady Clarissa Fontshall patted Nicola’s cheek ever so gently with her elegantly manicured fingers and turned and swept out into the yard leaving Nicola extremely flustered and not a little intrigued. She turned to watch her Ladies exquisite backside swaying provocatively as she made her way out of the room.
Later that evening Nicola sipped her wine and took stock of the day. She had calmed down a bit after leaving the manor and spent the afternoon shopping in nearby Guildford. She had bought some very sexy and extravagant black silk panties and a matching suspender belt complete with silk stockings, all of which she now had on. She was feeling a little tipsy and so horny she thought she might explode if she didn’t slip a finger in her sopping cunt.
She had resolved to look into pony training and was frantically sifting through what Google had to offer when her PC bleeped at her signalling that an e-mail had arrived. Her heart leapt into her throat, her cunt contracting as a fresh wave of arousal coursed through her. Once again the un-known mail account was shown as the sender of her new mail. She set her wine down and took a deep breath before clicking on it to open it. This time there was a message with the two pictures. Nicola scanned it frantically looking for some clue as to who was sending her these odd messages.
Dear Nicola
I know you are enjoying these little pictures, but don’t you find that actions speak louder than words?
All ponies have nice names, so why don’t you tell me what you would like to be called. Consider your name as the first part of you’re training and pick wisely you will be saddled with it for life!”
Love
Pony Trainer.
Nicola stopped breathing as she realised that the person mailing her knew not only her name but also that she was beside herself with arousal as a direct result of her exposure to this bizarre fetish. She gulped her wine and decided that she would play along with this for a laugh, how serious could it be? Just a bit of fun with e-mail nothing more.
Dear Pony Trainer
My Pony name is “Cinnamon” after my favourite My Little Pony when I was a little girl. If I were your pony would you comb my mane and look after me?
Cinnamon
Nicola hit the send key and sipped her wine expectantly. She was starting to enjoy this bit of harmless flirting. While waiting for a reply she surreptitiously slipped a hand under the elastic of her lovely new panties. They were already soaked and in need of a wash as she toyed with the slick folds of her cunt, groaning appreciatively as the pent up arousal from the days events resurfaces.
Nicola turned to the pictures in the mail that she has been so far too excited to look at. The first showed a young girl of about eighteen years of age, blonde, long legged, with very perky firm breasts clearly visible under her T-shirt, she appears to be holding a fearsome looking riding crop in one hand with the other grasping the reins of her conveyance. In the picture the girl is sitting on a small pony trap, nothing unusual there, except that the trap is being pulled along by a woman! Nicola’s fingers are a blur now as she drinks in the image before her, her panties soaking up her arousal as it flows from her like a river.
She notes the girl’s tail swishing behind her. It is obviously attached to something that has been pushed deep inside her backside. Her legs are clad in knee length boots and thigh high stockings, other than that she is naked except for a fair number of leather straps and buckles that seem to draw attention to, rather than hide, her underlying nudity. On top of her head is a large red plume that seems to be bobbing in time with her trotting motion. The young girl on the trap isn’t even batting an eyelid, as though what is happening is the most natural thing in the world.
Nicola’s fingers are a blur now as she fucks herself, eyes fluttering as once again the thought of her domination at the hands of a Mistress brings her to the edge of her orgasm. The pictures erotic nature only serving to fuel the images flooding her poor hormone soaked mind.
The second picture shows the same pony girl being attended to by two stable hands, one boy, one girl. The young girl is also present and appears to be directing the stable hands in a rather bossy manner. The front of the pony girl is visible now and Nicola can make out that she has a bit between her teeth preventing her from talking or communication in anything other than grunts and whinnies. The girl is exquisite, tall and shapely and strangely proud as she stands erect, tummy tucked in, breasts held high, athletic thighs glistening in the sun. She appears to barely notice the two youngsters attending to her, tightening a buckle there, sponging a flank there, flitting around her. All her attention is directed at the young girl, her eyes flash with what looks like pure lust as her apparent owner barely casts a glance at her.
Once again the computer bleeps at her signifying another mail has arrived. Bleep!
Meanwhile at Fontshall Manor Lady Clarissa Fontshall sips her own glass of wine. She is sitting in her favourite leather chair in her study. In front of her is a video monitor, currently replaying the tape taken of Nicola in the tack room earlier in the day, and a PC opened at her Hotmail account.
At her feet lies a beautiful brunette, of about twenty five years of age, her name is Honey. Her legs and arms are both bound in such a way that she walks on all fours with only her knees and elbows in contact with the floor at all times. She is totally naked except for a collar bearing a tag with her name and that of her owner, the late Lord Fontshall. Clarissa looks down at the exhausted Honey, she has had her tongue between Clarissa’s thighs for the past hour and is clearly rather tired. Lady Fontshall is not generally a fan of dogs, especially in the house, but decided to keep Honey on after her husband’s death as she had been his favourite. Besides she did have her uses!
She had just finished composing her last mail to Nicola, she can almost smell the poor girls arousal, she seems desperate to be dominated and used, something that Clarissa would be only to happy to provide her with. She absentmindedly rubs the toe of her riding boot over the exposed, glistening cunt of her puppy dog, eliciting a moan from Honey immediately.
“Poor puppy, haven’t you had any cock today?”
Honey looked up lovingly at her Mistress hoping against hope that she might receive some relief, it had been a week since she had been allowed to breed and she was getting decidedly antzy. Honey had been in the employ of the Fontshall’s ever since she had left school as a nieve eighteen year old, occupying the position of maid for about a week before Lord Fontshall had broken her and made her his puppy dog. Ever since then she had been de-humanised to such an extent that she no longer considered herself a person on any level. She loved to be treated like an animal and found the lack of free thought strangely liberating. She had also been allowed to develop a healthy interest in cock. Honey was proud to hold the position of party entertainment and had been humiliated, degraded, used and abused at any number of social events put on by her Lord and Lady. Each party presented her with the opportunity to sate her prodigious need for fucking, a need the guests were only to pleased to fulfil.
“If puppy wants some cock she must show mummy what a good little doggy she is and roll over for her”
Honey was on her back in seconds, over the years she has become suprisingly adept at dealing with the lack of use of her limbs in a normal situation. Her legs and arms point to the ceiling as she lolls her tongue out at her Mistress.
“Good puppy, now bark for mummy and shell give you a nice cock to play with”
“Rufffff, Ruffffff”
“What a good puppy, mummy is pleased. Now for your reward”
Clarissa reached over to her desk and got hold of a rather large black dildo that she kept to hand for emergencies. She slips it up and down the exposed folds of Honey’s slick cunt causing her to groan out in pleasure. The dildo is soon soaked in Honeys juices as the head is rubbed mercilessly over the poor puppies clit, making her mew in pleasure. Clarissa removes the dildo from her puppies intricately folded cunt lips and smears the poor girls juices under her nose and around her face, leaving a trail of juices over the poor girls face.
“Lick it clean, there’s a good doggy”
Honeys tongue laps greedily at the proffered dildo, slurping her juices up with pleasure. She knows only to well that the chances of her being allowed to get off without first being thoroughly humiliated are slim and she is only to pleased to taste her own arousal.
“Good doggy, now back on your hands and knees and Mummy will put you to bed. And as puppy has been so good she can have the dildo in her dirty little cunt all night. If I find that is has fallen out for any reason puppy will be smacked! Is that understood?”
Honey barks once for yes and suddenly yelps in pain as the dildo is roughly forced into her soaking cunt. Lady Fontshall leads the way to her bedroom knowing full well that Honey won’t be able to keep the dildo in place as she climbs the stairs to the master suite and already wondering what punishment might befit such an indiscretion. Lady Fontshall smiles to herself as she climbs the stairs to her suite, her eyes following the taught backside of her late husband’s favourite toy. The girl is a wonder but Clarissa only has eyes for her ponies and at the moment one pony in particular is filling her every waking moment, a pony who has yet to fulfil her rightful role in life.
Bleep!
Nicola’s PC once again lets her know that mail has arrived.
Dear Cinnamon
I knew you would come to your senses and realise your true role in life. I will expect you at the manor tomorrow morning at 9 o’clock sharp. You are to wear the following.
Short black skirt, stockings, heels and a white blouse, nothing else.
Failure to comply with my wishes will result in your sacking without references from your current position and you won’t work in this county again.
Yours
Lady Clarissa Fontshall.
Nicola read the mail, all thoughts of her previous arousal gone from her mind as cold reality washed over her, stopping her heart and bringing her out in a cold sweat. She didn’t know what to say or do. She was in shock as the realisation of her situation sank in. She was being blackmailed, there were no two ways about it, she knew she had few options. She had been tricked into revealing a part of her that no one knew about, a part of her that she didn’t even know about until a few days ago! Now it was in the open, one of the most influential women in the county had something over her and she couldn’t see a way out of it. She had no option but to comply and see what the hateful woman wanted from her.
Nicola slept fitfully, her sleep ruined by her feelings of helplessness, before she knew it the sun was up and it was time for her to face the music. She had spent the night tossing and turning, trying to see a way out of her predicament, no options had presented themselves, Lady Fontshall appeared to hold all the cards. Without a job or references Nicola would have to return to her origins, she would be relegated from high society animal care to the Vauxhall conference division of pet management she had been so desperate to leave behind her.
She rose sweaty from her disturbed sleep, a sleep punctuated by half dreamt fantasies Nicola could suddenly envisage becoming real. She showered and prepared to dress as the fateful e-mail had set out, her body shaking as she slowly towelled herself off, the coarse material inflaming her nipples making them stiff and needy. She selected her clothes, a tiny part of her mind screaming at her that she was already a toy for this woman, a toy only to keen to comply with the orders she set out for her.
Nicola pulled the sheer stockings up her thighs, an action that would normally be considered mundane suddenly sending a shiver of anticipation through her unbidden. The skirt came next covering her nakedness beneath, it was cut just above the knee and slit up the side allowing anyone who cared to take enough of a look a hint of stocking top. The sheer white blouse, normally reserved for interviews, slipped over her shoulders as her shaking hands struggling to do the buttons up, nipples jutting against the sheer material, aching to be touched, pinched and pulled.
Nicola couldn’t stop herself as she gave into her need tugging gently to start with at her engorged flesh and then more roughly as her eyes closed, arousal flowing through her despite, or more worryingly perhaps because of her predicament. She slowly sank into a chair her other hand sliding her skirt up her nylon-encased legs seeking the warmth that lay between them. Her cunt was slick with her arousal as she slipped her fingers within the intricately folded skin. Her attention eliciting a moan from her lips as her orgasm rose unbidden within her. What was wrong with her? Here she was about to be horribly blackmailed by a woman who seemed to have suddenly gained control of her life and she was lying like a rag doll pinching her own nipples painfully. While her other hand fingered her cunt for all it was worth rapidly bringing her to the most intense orgasm of her life. Her eyes opened wide as her feelings overcame her, wave after wave of pleasure washing over her beleaguered body and mind. Lack of sleep making her light headed as she grunted and moaned through her orgasm, sweat pricking on her upper lip as her body finally ended its Roller-coaster ride and deposited her a sweaty exhausted mess. Through glazed half open eyes she spied the clock on the mantelpiece, 8.45, GOD she would be late and she knew that tardiness would not be tolerated.
Nicola felt like a convict unsure of her sentence as she made her way to her Land Rover, wishing to get proceedings under way so she at least knew what the future held for her. She checked herself in the wing mirror her breasts were clearly visible under her sheer blouse, her nipples, despite her feelings of foreboding, erect and pushing against the thin fabric once again despite the overwhelming orgasm she had just experienced. Her body accepting what her mind wouldn’t, namely that she was aroused beyond belief at the prospect of seeing Lady Fontshall again, no matter what circumstances the meeting was under.
Nicola was clearly shaking as she got into her Land Rover, the seemingly simple task given a whole new element of excitement as her thighs were exposed, skirt riding up as she clambered into the car. She could feel her naked cunt throbbing beneath the black material, she left her skirt in a state of disarray, that small act of rebellion thrilling her still further, just the thought of being so underdressed had her heart beating faster. Her breasts ached to be touched and her entire body seemed to be twanging like a live wire as her mind tried to come to terms with her situation. She hadn’t felt so alive in a long time. Her body responding to the seemingly continual stimulus that the pictures she had received presented her with.
They were always at the forefront of her mind, when she shut her eyes they were there hinting at a life less ordinary. A life that Nicola had unwittingly stumbled across, then fallen into, without knowing what was happening. Her mind couldn’t reconcile her feelings. On the one hand she was horrified and disgusted at the thought of such degradation and humiliation at the hands of another human being. However the dark side of her character, the part that thrilled at depravity, wondered at what went on inside the heads of the characters involved in the scenes of submission. She wanted to know more, thirsted for knowledge and experience, longed to feel like a possession of another, a rich woman’s plaything. As she sped through the countryside, praying she wouldn’t be late, Nicola began to wonder if she would have the strength of character to stand up to her Lady. Based on their last meeting she doubted it and as she thought about it the ever present background hum of arousal once again stepped its volume up a little, her libido letting her know what it wanted. Abuse, submission, humiliation and lots of fucking seemed to be what her body and increasingly her mind wanted her to experience. Nicola inched the accelerator neared the carpet as she made more of an effort to get to the manor on time, dimly aware that she was rushing to catch up with her destiny as another woman’s ponygirl.
As Nicola once again swung into the courtyard that contained the stables she was presented with the formidable sight of Lady Fontshall waiting impatiently. Presumably for her, she was tapping a riding crop into the palm of her hand and had a look of displeasure plastered all over her aristocratic features. Nicola brought the car to a halt and stepped gingerly out of it, her heart beating ten to the dozen as she prepared to accept what fate dealt her.
“You are late young lady, what excuse do you have?”
Lady Fontshall’s tone had changed markedly from their previous meeting, she was dominant and overbearing and Nicola suddenly found herself unable to stand up for herself under the heat of her Ladies glare.
“I…..I…..I’m sorry My Lady”
The words spilled out before Nicola could even register what she was saying. She sounded like a naughty little girl being reprimanded by a teacher. The worse thing about it was that she had slipped so naturally into the role, had she subconsciously already accepted this woman’s dominance over her? Deep in her heart she suspected that she was only to happy to be controlled and used by Lady Fontshall, she was so powerful, her will seemed unbreakable, Nicola could feel herself slipping further and further into an abyss she half suspected she wanted to be immersed in totally. To make matters worse she could detect fresh arousal rearing its head within her, she found herself mesmerised by the riding crop as it described an arc in the air, her eyes following its movement.
Lady Fontshall smiled to herself as her newest pupil stood before her, radiant and glowing, she strongly suspected Nicola was highly aroused and doubted she would put up much resistance, still best to humiliate her a bit before bringing her fully under her spell.
“Why are you late? Your tardiness shows a complete lack of respect, I assume you have a valid excuse?”
Again the raised eyebrow and stern tone. Nicola shuffled her feet in embarrassment desperate to be back in the good books, she could feel a blush rising in her cheeks she knew she would not be able to lie to this woman but she was ashamed at herself all the same.
“My Lady I….I…I”
Nicola was blushing profusely now, head hung in shame wishing it was all over, wishing her Lady would gather her up and make it all better.
“Spit it out girl, don’t you think you’ve kept me waiting enough this morning?”
“Please My Lady I was playing with myself”
There she had said it, surely things couldn’t get any worse?
“You horny little slut, the minute I first saw you I knew you would make an ideal little pony to add to my collection. Well done for having the guts to say that I know it must have been hard for you”
Suddenly all harshness was gone as Lady Fontshall’s previously stern face broke out into a broad grin. Nicola was taken aback, once again unsure if she was taking part in the same conversation as her Lady.
“Please my Lady I don’t understand, your last mail said I was to get the sack if I disobeyed you”
“My dear Girl I would never hurt anyone or put them at a disadvantage but sometimes some people need a little push in the right direction, you are one of those people. I know what you want but you don’t! It would of taken me forever to get you here under your own steam so I had to use drastic measures to speed things up a bit. Nicola darling you and I both know what you want, you long to serve as a pony don’t you?”
“I never knew I wanted it so much until last night, something’s changed, I can’t put my finger on it. But my Lady I want this so much please train me and make me yours, I’ll be ever so good for you I promise”
Nicola was nearly crying now as it all flooded out of her, all the pent up emotions and feelings that had been boiling away ever since she received the first mail came pouring out of her.Lady Fontshall patted Nicola on the head and held her face up so she could look into her eyes as she spoke.
“Oh Cinnamon dearest, I will gladly train you and keep you here as a full time pony, I know that’s what you want. I want you to move in immediately, I’ll speak to your employer, I know him so don’t worry and you can live here I’ll send someone to pick up your things. Don’t worry yourself about a thing”
Nicola smiled to herself, confident that Lady Fontshall seemed to have everything under control. She longed to start her new life and didn’t want to prolong things another minute, the throbbing in her cunt had returned once again making her acutely aware of her nakedness underneath her skirt once again as her nipples strained to worm their way out of her blouse. Her arousal was clear and did not go unnoticed by Lady Fontshall.
“Now my dear lets get you started, I think it would be a good idea to introduce you to the stable girl who will be responsible for looking after you during your stay. Her name is Tara but we all call her chesty for reasons that will become clear in a second”
As if on cue a tall redhead walked purposefully into the yard, she had on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that was straining to contain two of the largest breasts Nicola had ever seen. Tara was a very pretty eighteen-year-old girl and seemed to have a smile permanently plastered over her broad face. Her nipples were clearly visible under her shirt and she seemed to have forgotten to put on a bra that morning. In her hand Nicola could make out a collar and a rope, her heart fluttered, as she knew only to well where that was going.
“Tara my dear this is Cinnamon, my newest addition I want you to train her and groom her get her all tacked up you know the drill. Now for the rest of the day I want her shown round the stables and her stall, settle her in. I want her presented to me with all her livery this evening, I’m having the major for dinner and I want to show her off”
Nicola started at the mention of her best friends father.
“Don’t worry my Dear we’ll cover that pretty face of yours so he doesn’t recognise you”
“Oh and Tara make sure the stable boys give her the once over poor lamb looks as though shell burst unless she gets some cock in her”
With that Lady Fontshall left the blushing Cinnamon and the giggling Tara to get acquainted.