before we are set free. Come on, let’s get you out of the sun before you burn that pretty white skin of yours. Just follow my voice. We don’t see a lot that come through here blind-trained.”
Regan relaxed a little, glad that she had found someone to talk to about the strange events of the day. “What exactly is that? Mistress Charlotte sounded surprised too.”
“When a pony trusts an owner enough to blindly follow commands, it is called blind-training. It’s very rare in our circle. You must really love your master.”
“I… I trust him completely,” Regan said thoughtfully. “My life is in his hands, and I know that he will protect me.”
“You are a lucky lady. Water? It’s like a fountain, with a pedal so you don’t have to stand.”
Regan's frazzled nerves were soothed in the company of her new friend as they joined the other ponies lounging under a tree. Lionel introduced her and taught her the proper resting position… on her belly with her knees tucked under her and elbows flat on the ground. Lionel growled several times as several other stallions approached the new colt, chasing them off in a loud yell.
One of the pony girls chuckled, rubbing her shoulder against Regan. “Wow, you must be something special for the black stallion to be guarding you. Lionel is the herd’s lead. He not only protects the pasture, but he is the head of the power team.”
“What are you talking about? I’m sorry, I’m new at this.”
“All in time, honey,” another pony girl said. “We all started as colts. The strongest bucks are teamed up and harnessed to pull loads. Like a Clydesdale. Lionel is huge and beautifully perfect. The only problem is that he is too big for any of the girls to breed with him. He’d tear us to pieces.”
“Breed? Like as in sex?”
“Mmm, you better believe it,” another said. “Every stable is run differently, just like the shows. The mistress has her own events, including a breeding competition. It is for those of us who enjoy being pursued and mounted. The stallions chase us around the arena and fight for the right to breed. It is amazing!”
“She also holds best of show, races, and team conformation. I have been doing this for ten years, and I think Mistress Charlotte is the absolute best stable mistress. She hires the top trainers to work with us and provides everything we need to make certain we perform at our peak.”
“The lady likes her trophies,” Lionel chuckled. Regan heard him grunt as he plopped his huge body to the ground. “She is as generous as she is severe. We love her.”
“Does she… own… all of you?”
“No, she has her own herd of team ponies and a couple of cart girls. Speaking of which, it looks like your haters are being thrown in with the broncos.”
“I don't understand. Please, tell me what's happening,” Regan asked, straining her ears as she heard loud weeping in the distance.
“Some of the herd are like wild broncos,” Lionel intervened. “They refuse to be ridden or tamed. They are the hard-core BDSMers. Nothing can break them, and they keep coming back for more.”
“Are… they here?”
“No, Mistress Charlotte won’t allow them loose in the field with the trained herd. They are too reckless and fights tend to happen. They are corralled in the field next to this one. They are being allowed to mount the two who insulted you, and neither one looks happy about it.”
“It is about time,” one of the pony-girls said bitterly. “Those two have been itching for a good whipping and a hard fuck for a while. Owe! Don't bite!”
“We never rejoice when one of our herd is punished,” Lionel scolded.
“You do realize this is play, right?” Regan asked with concern, hearing the loud, crude remarks of the broncos as they took turns with the miscreants. “To allow rape…”
“Everything that occurs under Mistress Charlotte is consensual. Those girls signed contracts that gave their permission to be disciplined in
Regan relaxed a little, glad that she had found someone to talk to about the strange events of the day. “What exactly is that? Mistress Charlotte sounded surprised too.”
“When a pony trusts an owner enough to blindly follow commands, it is called blind-training. It’s very rare in our circle. You must really love your master.”
“I… I trust him completely,” Regan said thoughtfully. “My life is in his hands, and I know that he will protect me.”
“You are a lucky lady. Water? It’s like a fountain, with a pedal so you don’t have to stand.”
Regan's frazzled nerves were soothed in the company of her new friend as they joined the other ponies lounging under a tree. Lionel introduced her and taught her the proper resting position… on her belly with her knees tucked under her and elbows flat on the ground. Lionel growled several times as several other stallions approached the new colt, chasing them off in a loud yell.
One of the pony girls chuckled, rubbing her shoulder against Regan. “Wow, you must be something special for the black stallion to be guarding you. Lionel is the herd’s lead. He not only protects the pasture, but he is the head of the power team.”
“What are you talking about? I’m sorry, I’m new at this.”
“All in time, honey,” another pony girl said. “We all started as colts. The strongest bucks are teamed up and harnessed to pull loads. Like a Clydesdale. Lionel is huge and beautifully perfect. The only problem is that he is too big for any of the girls to breed with him. He’d tear us to pieces.”
“Breed? Like as in sex?”
“Mmm, you better believe it,” another said. “Every stable is run differently, just like the shows. The mistress has her own events, including a breeding competition. It is for those of us who enjoy being pursued and mounted. The stallions chase us around the arena and fight for the right to breed. It is amazing!”
“She also holds best of show, races, and team conformation. I have been doing this for ten years, and I think Mistress Charlotte is the absolute best stable mistress. She hires the top trainers to work with us and provides everything we need to make certain we perform at our peak.”
“The lady likes her trophies,” Lionel chuckled. Regan heard him grunt as he plopped his huge body to the ground. “She is as generous as she is severe. We love her.”
“Does she… own… all of you?”
“No, she has her own herd of team ponies and a couple of cart girls. Speaking of which, it looks like your haters are being thrown in with the broncos.”
“I don't understand. Please, tell me what's happening,” Regan asked, straining her ears as she heard loud weeping in the distance.
“Some of the herd are like wild broncos,” Lionel intervened. “They refuse to be ridden or tamed. They are the hard-core BDSMers. Nothing can break them, and they keep coming back for more.”
“Are… they here?”
“No, Mistress Charlotte won’t allow them loose in the field with the trained herd. They are too reckless and fights tend to happen. They are corralled in the field next to this one. They are being allowed to mount the two who insulted you, and neither one looks happy about it.”
“It is about time,” one of the pony-girls said bitterly. “Those two have been itching for a good whipping and a hard fuck for a while. Owe! Don't bite!”
“We never rejoice when one of our herd is punished,” Lionel scolded.
“You do realize this is play, right?” Regan asked with concern, hearing the loud, crude remarks of the broncos as they took turns with the miscreants. “To allow rape…”
“Everything that occurs under Mistress Charlotte is consensual. Those girls signed contracts that gave their permission to be disciplined in
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