Breeding the Pony Girl Pt. 11

"I thought if'n I got a good 'nough price for her, her owner would be happy to sell," replied Abby, suddenly sounding like a little girl caught stealing cookies.

Richard butted in again. "I do apologize for this waste of your time, sir," he almost bowed to the old coot. "As I said, I know her owner and I've even had this slut on my ranch for training. Believe me, if she were for sale I would have bought the little bitch myself, months ago."

"My fault for trying to deal with children; good day to you, sir." Said the old guy and left, looking equally annoyed.

Richard turned back to Abby. "Don't tell me, your daddy borrowed this filly for the parade, just like he borrowed Charlene from me, and you got carried away, right?" Without waiting for an answer, he went on. "Well, tell your daddy that Richard Jameson took Ginger here for safe-keeping; I'll return her to the Spinning Wheel Ranch booth so you don't need to worry any more, OK?"

In a very small voice, Abby said, "OK, Mr. Jameson." He didn't even wait for her response. I felt his hand cupping my bottom, fingers pressing deep into my crack just below my ponytail. "Heel, slut," he said in a very annoyed tone, and marched me away.

I was relieved, shaken, and humiliated all at the same time. Fortunately for my composure, the exhibition booth for the Jameson Ranch was nearby. Richard paused just long enough to tell someone that he needed to go collect Charlene from the Veterinary students, and then he marched me into the secluded area at the back of his exhibit and pulled out a chair. As he sat down on it, he almost dragged me into his lap, being careful not to jam my tail in the process. I collapsed in tears.

"There, there, girl--no harm done." Richard rocked and petted me for a few minutes until I stopped crying, then he removed my converter collar and released my arm binder. Of their own volition, my arms went around his neck, but I almost clobbered his face with my helmet. At which point he grinned, fished out his keys, and inserted the standard one to unlock my chin strap, followed by taking off my bridle harness. I was so happy to be safe in his arms that I collapsed into another crying jag.

Only then, the penny dropped--Richard Jameson could see my face! I jerked backwards, but he refused to let me go.

"Hello, Lois," he chuckled. I started to sputter a half-formed question, but he stopped my lips with his. For several minutes we necked happily; I didn't even object when he removed the bustier, leaving me wearing only pony boots and butt plug. His hands went all over me, including my groin and boobs, but they felt more like calming caresses than sexual fondling. I sighed and snuggled closer, making no effort to stop him. Could it be that the guy I loved would accept my weird hobby?

Eventually, though, he fished out a tissue and wiped off my face, then began to admonish me gently. "I traced your SIN [Slave Identification Number] from when I trained you; don't worry, I have no intention of outing you. Today, however, you damn near got your cute little tush sold into slavery for real, babe. Need to be more careful."

I hid my face and groaned. "Thank heavens you saved me. Not only did that old geezer want to buy me, but I think Tex Rider is going to call Lois up and suggest the same thing."

Richard almost laughed in my face, then said, mock seriously, "Well, if Tex offers to buy Ginger, Lois will just have to tell him that Richard Jameson has the right of first refusal. Any time you want to put on a collar, I insist that it be mine. Promise me that." His eyes bored into me in a way that suggested he wasn't kidding about wanting me as his slave.

I didn't know how to take that, so I tried to make a joke of it. "Weeelll, I don't really want to be a slave, but if I ever change my mind, I'll be sure to call you first."

"In the meantime you've got to think of a safer way to live. A couple things I need to tell you, Lois. First, you're not the only woman who plays pretend pony. In fact--do you know Nancy Bradford?"

I couldn't follow his change of subject, but replied, "Yeah; I met her at some alumnae functions because we belonged to the same sorority in college, but she's a few years older than me. What's that got to do with pony games?"

"Everything," Richard replied. "Let me call her up and lay some groundwork; I think she'll agree to meet you for lunch and tell you about a much safer way of playing pony. Promise you'll talk to her if she calls."

I owed him a big one for rescuing me, so I agreed without arguing.

"With that out of the way," my boyfriend (loved the sound of that thought) continued. "I care a lot about you, Lois, and you simply have to stop taking such big risks. This is the third time I've found you dressed up like a pony slut getting fucked by every guy in sight. You're a free woman, so if you want to screw everyone, that's your business. But you can't keep pretending to be a slave--it isn't legal or safe."

By now, I had gotten over my fright, and my temper got the better of me. I jumped off his lap and almost shouted. "I really appreciate you're helping me out, Richard, but what gives you the right to tell me what to do?"

He stood up, still calm but again looking annoyed. "What gives me the right? I'll tell you what--Present!" His commanding tone and sex appeal kicked in, and before I realized it I had obeyed his command. My hands interlocked behind my neck, I spread my legs slightly more than shoulder width, and I stared straight ahead, waiting for the next command. It wasn't long in coming.

"Collar," he growled, and again I couldn't resist. I dropped to widespread knees, put one hand on my hip and the other reached to move my hair away from my neck, even though that hair was already pinned into a crested comb to take the place of a horse's mane. From somewhere he produced a plain leather collar and strapped it around my neck. It was tight, but it also felt natural on me.

"Stand... Reverse...Back Hands." I dutifully obeyed, and before I knew it was facing away from him with my hands zip-tied behind my back. Finally, he told me to Reverse and Kneel in front of him.

"So, Lois, to answer your question, YOU gave me the right to tell you what to do. Look at yourself--what are you?"

I was miserable and yet excited to kneel before him. No sense hiding the truth. "A slave, Master."

Richard sat back down on the chair and exhaled. "Darling, you already promised me first refusal if you ever wanted to be collared. I'm sure I could gather enough witnesses to your slutty behavior at your ranch, mine, and the Breeding Barn to take you to court--just as you are now--and have you declared my slave. Do you want that?"

I thought for a minute but then shook my head--I really didn't want to be a true slave. "No, Master."

"That's good," my boyfriend/master replied, a note of relief in his voice. "Because I don't want just Ginger the slave--I also want Lois the woman. So I won't enslave you TODAY. By rights, I should pound your brains out right here, but you'd probably ENJOY that, wouldn't you?"

I couldn't help smiling. "Yes, Master--I'd love it if you fucked me again."

"I thought so," he said. "No sense rewarding your bad behavior, then. Besides, you may be a slave at heart but you're still legally free, so I wouldn't feel right taking advantage of you right now. Instead, I need to give you a punishment that you'll remember for a while. Stand up."

I struggled to my feet, no easy trick with my hands bound behind me. Richard tugged me over to his right side and then flipped me over his lap, head and feet low and ass sticking up and very vulnerable.

"Count the spanks, or I'll start over." He said, once again fairly calm. WHACK! It was only his hand, but he wasn't holding back on me.

"One, thank you, Master. May I please have another?" WHACK! "Two, thank you, Master. May I..."

We quickly worked up to "Ten, thank you Master," when he paused, rubbing all over my tender rear end. His touch made me feel a lot better, but there was no doubt I had been punished, if only because he was treating me like a recalcitrant toddler. I cried quietly.

"So, Lois, do you know why I'm spanking you?" He asked.

I caught my breath and replied, "Because I risked being enslaved by playing pony girl."

"That's right," Richard replied. "Not only that, but since you rented yourself out at the Breeding Barn, you could be convicted of prostitution. Course, knowing you, the atonement for that crime would probably be a big thrill. Just imagine being in those electronic stocks while the corrections officers get to use all three of your openings and THEN give you a circle star brand so you can be auctioned off. But even if you enjoyed that, imagine Mary Jacobs getting the same treatment as your pimp. Is that what you want for her?"

"No, master." I was quietly shaking at the reality struck me.

He continued, sounding much more friendly. "There ARE safe ways to play pony if that's what you want. I'm sure you've heard of Texas Free In Name Only (FINO)--you sign an agreement with somebody you trust, like Mary or me (I'd be happy to take care of you), and that person treats you as a slave on a scheduled, part-time basis. But if I catch you free-lancing as a pretend slave again," he paused and gave me the two strongest spanks yet. "If I catch you playing slave again, I'll have to take action to protect you, and I won't be so gentle. Understand me?"

I was quietly sobbing but nodded my head. He resumed slowly rubbing my buttocks until the pain faded. His other hand crept around to play with my left boob, which I took to mean he wasn't THAT angry with me.

"OK, darling. Enough for today." By now his voice had returned to the happy, loving tone of our last date. "Remember, though--you promised me you would talk to Nancy Bradford when she calls, right? And I also want you to think long and hard about how you can be happy and safe at the same time, OK?"

He gently deposited me back on my feet and extracted my ponytail plug before walking me over to an empty wire-mesh "poodle cage." I'd seen thousands of them in my life, because they were the usual vehicle for shipping slaves from one place to another. They were less common with pony girls, who usually travelled tacked up in boots, bustier, ponytail, and bridle. Today, though, I had a sinking feeling that I was about to get a personal experience of poodle transport.

Richard turned me to face him, then kissed me hard and long before telling me to "open wide" as he inserted a fabric gag that tied in the back of my head, pulling the corners of my mouth backwards into the "slave smile." Compared to a pony bit, this device was smaller and slightly softer but did a better job of silencing the wearer. On top of that device, my boyfriend/captor reinstalled the safety helmet--whatever happened to me now, at least he had tried to conceal my identity. Richard firmly pressed downward on my shoulders until I was kneeling, that ordered me to "wiggle that cute ass of yours back into the cage, slut." I was soon kneeling on the hard tray at the bottom of the cage.

I must have looked really odd. Most slaves travelled "slave naked," wearing nothing more than a collar, cuffs, and a gag. I had all that, but also a helmet and pony boots. Too bad my boobs were hanging out for the world to see! Richard tucked my butt plug into a large zip-lock bag, and then deposited it, along with my bustier, forearm binder, and bridle rig, onto my lap before closing the cage and securing it with a cheap little padlock.

Whistling quietly, my boyfriend/owner retrieved a handcart and briskly rolled my cage down the aisle between a long aisle of exhibitors. By this time, it must have been close to 5:00 p.m. and the visitors were thinning out, but I felt far more exposed kneeling in a cage with my breasts naked than I had at any time during the parade that morning.

When we reached the Spinning Wheel Pony Ranch booth, I was relieved to see that everyone was packing up. Richard leaned on the handcart for a few minutes, then quietly waved Mary over.

"Look what I found." He said in a mocking tone. "I gather that you loaned Ginger here to Tex Rider for the Slave Veterinary exhibit, right? I lent him one of my sluts as well. Trouble is, Tex's daughter got carried away and was about to sell this filly to one of the guests--I think he was impressed with the blowjob Ginger gave him!" I didn't think I could still blush in front of Mary, but I did this time.

"Anyway, I've had a heart-to-heart talk with Lo--I mean, Ginger about the risks that unattended pony girls run wandering around where they can get traded or stolen. I think this filly needs plenty of time to think about that, don't you?"

"Absolutely," replied Mary, as if they were old friends. "I've been warning Ms. Spalding about that for a long time. In fact, I'd say the two-hour drive back to the ranch should be just about long enough for her to contemplate the error of her ways, don't you?"

Richard grinned, damn both of them. "Great minds and all that. If you'll show me where your truck is, I think this cage will look real nice right next to the tailgate." Double damn them! He was going to ensure that I spent the next two hours not only riding in a poodle cage but flashing my naked tits to everyone we passed on the road! I guess I should be thankful that he had covered my face.

It was a long, windy ride back to the ranch--this was yet another essential part of the slave experience, with my nipples erect from cold rather than excitement. Which didn't stop me from rubbing those nipples against the wire in hopes of getting off again! I reluctantly decided that I deserved both the discomfort and the spanking Richard had inflicted on me. I had promised to meet with Nancy Bradford and think about a Texas FINO personal services contract. Trouble is, my mind kept going back to being a FINO slave on my knees for Richard.

When we finally got back, I had to wait in my cage until Mary and Hailie put away the other ponies, and then wait longer while Mary awakened her husband, Bill, to manhandle the cage off the truck and roll it into the main house. Mary thanked Bill but told him to go away and stop staring at my boobs!

Only after he shambled off to bed did she unlock me (I was relieved to see that Richard had given her the tiny padlock key.) Stiffly, I crawled out and she freed me, removing helmet, gag, zip tie, and everything else.

Mary was too tired to say much, but I got the impression that she was biting her tongue and would have enjoyed telling me off for being such a damn fool. Thing is, Richard had already done that for her.

It was a long time before I fell asleep, only to dream of being the fox in a hunt, with a bushy red tail plugged into my rear end, hounds nipping at my heels, and men on horseback driving me towards a trap. What will they do to me when they catch me? Hell, what WON'T they do? I really had to do something about my kinky mind... perhaps see a slave psychiatrist?

(To be continued)