Disciplining a Bitch

I unlocked the cage and called her out. After removing her leather collar I fitted the new chain around her neck, fastening it with a padlock relatively tight leaving the excess to dangle loose between her breasts, after transferring the bark control unit from the leather collar. I checked the tightness with my fingers, I could get two fingers in. I then ordered her to go outside and do her business, while I fixed up some food for her and myself. When she returned I put her bowl of chopped vegetables on the floor and ate a bacon sandwich while watching her eat.

When she had finished, I wiped her face, attached her lead to the end of the new chain collar and led her out to the car. Helping her up into the cage was a familiar chore as she was fitted with a hobble all the time we were out after her attempt at an escape. Once she was caged, I loaded the special items and got in the car to drive around to Bill's farm. The trip was fairly quick but I realised I'd better arrange the gate between the paddock and Bill's farm as soon as I could. When I had my own sulky I could drive Sheba across to Bill's within minutes. I could hardly wait.

When we arrived at Bill's I unloaded Sheba and led her over to the patio where I ordered her to kneel. I then met Bill who had come to greet us. He asked me if I wanted a cup of coffee while we discussed the training for the day. I agreed but asked him to wait a moment as I had something to show him. I went to the car and got out the items I'd loaded before.

I carried them over to where Sheba was kneeling and ordered her to rise. I dumped the bits on the table and then started to assemble them on her. There was a long strap to go around her neck and down her front and a flat board with a leather belt attached. I fastened the belt around her waist with the board across her front. A small cut-out left it wrapped around her waist. I attached the ends of the long strap to each of the outer corners, adjusted the lengths and stepped back. Bill came over to examine the result. "What is it?" he asked.

"Just an idea I had. As you know, Sheba can't be trusted to wander loose so she can't help Anna to serve us, unless I stay by her to stop an escape. So I thought of this, call it a self propelled hostess trolley, if you like. Anna can take her into the kitchen, load the tray up with crockery and cutlery and have Sheba bring them out. Then while we eat she can be a drinks trolley or coffee table depending on our needs. All the time she will be confined and hobbled but still useful. What do you think?"

"I like it. Makes sense. I'll take her with me to the kitchen and instruct Anna. I'll be back soon." Taking Sheba's lead, Bill went into the kitchen, calling Anna. Then returned without Sheba. "All sorted. Coffee won't be long." We sat and discussed Sheba's training while we waited. After about ten minutes, I saw Sheba come out with a tray full being led by Anna who was holding the coffee pot. Sheba walked slowly across the patio to the table and then stood waiting. Anna placed the coffee pot on the table. She then removed the crockery from Sheba's tray and started to pour the coffee, placing each cup back onto the tray. When she'd done, a quick gesture and Sheba walked to each of us in turn. We took our cups and started to drink the coffee. After both cups were removed, I ordered Sheba to kneel between us. That way we could use her tray to put our cups on.

When we had finished, Bill told Anna to use Sheba and clear the dishes then bring her to the stable without her tray. Bill and I walked over to the tack-room where Bill gave me the black harness set we had used on Sheba yesterday. I carried out the harness while Bill sorted out a set of lunge reins. By the time we had organised this, Anna had brought Sheba across, after removing the 'hostess' kit. Bill took Sheba's lead and told Anna to go wash up, then wait on the patio for us to return.

He then told me to bridle Sheba. We wouldn't put the harness on until hitching her to the sulky. I picked up the bridle, sorted the tangle as best I could then put it on Sheba's head. I fiddled with the head and neck straps until it appeared to be placed correctly, then fastened the buckles. Once the bridle was fitted, I swung the bit into her mouth. She refused to open it at first but, remembering Bill's tip from yesterday, I pinched her nose (more than was strictly necessary) until she opened her mouth to breathe. When she did so, I rammed the bit into her mouth and fastened it's clip to the bridle.

When I had finished, I asked Bill to check my work. He quickly tested the straps, adjusting one which he said was too loose, Then nodded. Bill then passed me the lunge reins and I fastened them, one to each side ring on the bit. Backing away, I laid the reins out on the grass.

"Keep the reins just not tight. If you keep them too tight, she'll drift in all the time, if too loose, you'll have to pull much more than is necessary to convey your commands. When you're ready, tell her to move. Normally you'd also give her a stripe with the whip but I'll use the whip until you've had some practice using it. As soon as you like, let's go."

I gathered up the reins, readjusted them to be just tight, shook them and called, "giddiup Sheba, walk on." Slowly Sheba began to move. She shook her head but moved in the required circle. "faster!" I cried. Bill swung the whip. Crack! Sheba jumped forward and increased speed into a trot. As she moved, I slowly circled, Bill keeping pace, occasionally swinging the whip to crack near her rear. Each time she jumped in response. As she settled, I began to order her to "high step, you apology for a pony, move your arse." As I said this Bill would swing the whip landing a solid stripe on her offending thigh.

After about ten minutes, Bill muttered to me "give her a break, a short rest before we continue"

"Whoa!" I called, pulling on the reins. Sheba slowed down and stopped. I dropped the reins and walked into the centre to her. I rubbed her shoulder, slipping down to her breasts, tweaking her nipples. She dripped sweat but responded by pushing her breasts into my hands. I rubbed her nipples in a circular motion while telling her how good she'd been and what a pretty pony she was. Bill joined me, slapped her backside and told me she had done well for her real first time and we should take her back to the patio for a break. I gathered her reins and calling her to "heel" I led the way to the patio where Anna waited.

As we approached, Bill told Anna to get more coffee for us, a towel and some water for Sheba and quick about it. Bill and I sat down, I dragged Sheba alongside and unclipped the reins then told her to kneel, which she did. While we waited for the coffee, I caressed Sheba's body with particular emphasis on her breasts and vagina. She groaned at my touches but I noticed that she was dripping from her vagina and wished I could take her now, hard and fast. Bill noticed what I was doing and could certainly see my trousers stretching. He leaned over and said "Take her here if you want. I'd do the same with Anna. After all she deserves it and remember: ponygirls are often on the point of begging to be serviced but usually unable to speak. That's what makes them so delightful to own. The act of being a ponygirl brings out the uncontrolled animal, which we should encourage!"

I stood up, called Sheba to heel and walked off the patio towards a group of bushes. When I reached there, I told her to present and mounted her. She rammed herself into my groin as I entered. I thrust in slowly at first but quickly building up the tempo as she followed my moves. Within what appeared to be seconds, we both climaxed. I slowed my thrusts to allow the draining of my sperm then withdrew. Sheba drew herself up to her full height, turned and knelt to engulf my penis in her mouth. Languidly she licked it clean and swallowed. When she finished, she released my organ and stood, taking the display stance. I tidied myself, zipped up and turned to return to the patio, telling her to heel.

We returned just in time as Anna arrived carrying the coffee. After pouring it Anna placed a dish on the floor, filled it with water then returned to Bill's side and knelt. I quickly wiped Sheba down and then gestured to her to drink from the bowl. As Bill and I drank our coffee, he asked me if I enjoyed my interlude. We then discussed the next stage for Sheba's training.

Although she was still basically untrained, Bill suggested that I hitch her to the sulky and take her for a short walk. This would give her a taste of the bit and I could practice guiding her by using the reins. Bill would walk alongside ready if the whip was needed. I agreed, I wanted more of the full controlled ponygirl experience.

Once we'd finished our coffee, Anna carried the dishes back into the kitchen and was ordered to join us as soon as she'd finished washing them. Bill carried the reins and I clipped her lead on and led Sheba over to the tack-room to be harnessed. After fastening her lead to the small hitching rail, I helped Bill bring out the black harness set.

I first sorted out the belt, putting around her hips and fastening the cinch. I was getting used to her now and realised she had puffed out her stomach. I stood in front and punched her in the stomach. As she expelled her breath, I quickly tightened the belt several notches. She grunted and I slapped her breast saying, "serves you right for being awkward, next time don't puff out!" I then picked up the front leads, crossed them between her breasts and passed them over her shoulders. I walked behind her, then knelt and felt between her legs for the lower straps. As expected, she kept her legs together. Not exactly clamped but close enough to stop my hand reaching through. This time I took out the crop which I had tucked into my boot and gave her several hard cracks with it. She jumped at the unexpected pain and squealed. "That was for not taking the 'display' position, this," giving her a couple more "is for arguing. Now DISPLAY." She shook her head but shuffled into the display, opening her legs to the correct distance. "That's better. If you 'forget' again, I'll really mark you." I put my hand through her legs and pulled the straps back. Making sure they lay each side of her vagina, I fed them into the buckles and fastened them. I then buckled the top straps, checking to ensure that the belt was held correctly at hip level.

I then adjusted the bridle on her head. Once done I clipped the bit onto the bridle and placed it against her mouth which she kept closed. Holding it steady, I whispered in her ear. "Open your mouth instantly or I'll string you up on the nearest tree and thrash you until the blood reaches your ankles. Understand?" She grunted but her mouth opened wide and accepted the bit. "that's a good pony." I said sarcastically. Bill handed me the short reins, having put the lunge set away, and I clipped them to the bit and laid them over her back. I unfastened the lead, and led her to the sulky. Backing her into the shafts, I attached her belt to the shaft chains. Once this was done, I removed her lead, dropping it into the footwell and climbed aboard.

Bill got hold of her bridle and led her out of the tack-room. Once we were clear, he let go and took up his place to one side. I nodded my thanks to him, then shaking the reins, I called "walk on." Bill cracked the whip, without touching her I noted. Sheba pulled and strained for a second before the sulky started to move. She leaned forward, straining, as it started but was able to straighten up as it gained speed.

As we moved off, Bill coiled the whip lash in his hand and said, "keep her steady at that speed for the moment. Try gentle turns left and right to let her feel the reins." I nodded agreement and gently pulled on her left rein. She continued forward for a few seconds but as I increased the pressure she slowly turned to the left, the sulky following. Once we had turned a little, I released the pressure on the left rein and she walked forward. Every ten or fifteen yards I would guide her left or right. As I became used to it, I found that I could turn her a little or a lot depending on the pull I used.

Eventually we got very near the woods, so I turned her to the right, keeping her turning until we were pointing back towards the tack-room. I told her to walk on but Bill suggested I get her to trot to the stable. I called on Sheba to trot and Bill laid several whip strokes on her buttocks. With a squeal, she plunged forward and broke into a sort-of trot. I shook the reins calling "giddy-up, move it." She steadied into a slow run. I turned her gently left and right until we neared the stable when I pulled on both reins to slow her down. "Walk on." until we reached the stable where Anna was patiently waiting, when I pulled her to a standstill and waited for Bill to catch up.

Once I was sure she had stopped, I called to Anna to hold her bridle and climbed down between the shafts. I patted Sheba on her back "Good little pony, you deserve a treat. 'present'." She bent over, still breathing heavily and I unzipped and took her while she was still hitched with Anna holding her bridle. After I emptied into her, I climbed back over the shaft and faced her. She carefully knelt in the shafts and took my penis in her mouth and cleaned it. She had just finished as Bill arrived. He grinned and told Anna to let go of the bridle. I had been so excited that I hadn't noticed she was still holding Sheba. I zipped up and turned to Bill. "That was great."

"Yes," said Bill, "she wasn't bad but she still needs to learn the different gaits. Also as she gets fitter she'll be able to run faster and longer. Next stage to give you some practice with the whip." to Anna, "reattach Sheba's hobble then unharness her, clean and put the harness away, give her a good scrub then bring her on the lead to the rose garden. Make sure you don't touch her arm-binders or collar." then to me, "come on, time to start your whip practice." He got another whip out of the tack room, handed it to me and led off towards the gardens.

As we walked Bill explained the difference between the whips. "This one I'm holding has a longer lead in proportion, it gives me more versatility. The one you've got has a longer shaft which makes it easier to aim but is more restricted as to distance. When using a sulky, your whip is perfect because the shaft is about two foot short of the distance between yourself and your pony. The short piece of flexible lead just covers the gap. This means that you can't give the pony a heavy cut unless you lean forward. However you shouldn't need to give her a heavy cut unless she's totally out of control. Once you've got used to that whip, you can use this one which will give complete flexibility in depth and weight of stroke. "

Bill stopped and opened the gate into the rose garden. "We're using this garden as I've got some targets set up." We walked across to the small lawn where I could see several posts mounted and a small table with a lot of paper cups and a jug of water. The posts were between four and five foot high.

Bill moved in front of the line of posts then stepped back, laying his whip on the floor. "I'm going to place myself in such a way as the end of the whip is about a foot short of the post. I'll use a post without a cup. Now watch my action." He held the whip handle about waist high with the lash laid out towards the post. "Step over to the left side so I can't accidentally strike you with the lash." After I did so, Bill lifted the whip up, bringing the lash off the floor, swung it back then brought it forward, pulling it back at the last moment. The whip cracked and the lash dropped to the floor. "That would be the normal use. The noise tells the pony to get a move on or the next one will strike her. Watch again, I'll do it several time so you can see the action." Crack! Crack! Crack! Went the whip. Bill making it look easy.

"Now, you try." I laid the whip out as Bill had done, pulled it back, swung it forward and snatched it back. Nothing, "Rome wasn't built in a day, that's why we're here practising. Watch again, it's all a matter of timing." He demonstrated again. Again I tried. Again he demonstrated. Finally after many tries, my whip made a quiet 'crack'. "Well done, you're half way there now. It's just a matter of timing the snatch. Keep trying it." For the next ten to fifteen minutes, I swung the whip, sometimes 'cracking' sometimes not. But as I worked, I got it to 'crack' more often than not.

Bill then took several cups and half filled them with water from the jug. He then placed them on alternate posts. He then laid his whip out again as before. Picking it up, he stepped forward about a foot and took up position ready to use the whip again. "This time, I'm going to try to pick off a cup, barely touching it. Watch." He pulled back the whip, twisted his wrist, swung it forward and pulled back. The whip cracked and the cup jumped then fell on the floor. "Come and look at the cup." Bill said, going to collect the fallen cup. I looked at it but could see no mark. I looked at Bill "what did you do then?"

"Effectively I got the lash so close to the cup that the wind of it's passage knocked the cup off. If I did that to a pony, she would jump from the touch but would be unmarked. You try it, but it will be difficult. Obviously once you've got it taped, you can vary the 'miss' depending on how much you want to punish her." I tried but made a hash of it, knocking the cup off the post but tearing it to pieces. "You see why we practice first?" Bill commented. "I suggest that for now, you use the first technique. Making sure your lash can't reach the pony. Use the noise. OK? Have a couple more goes, trying not to hit a cup. Time to show off, I see Anna is here, leading your pony. I'll tether her over by the bench while you do some more whip practice." So saying, Bill beckoned Anna over, took Sheba's lead and walked her over to the bench, fastening the lead to an armrest, while I endeavoured to produce business-like cracks from my whip, without knocking the cups off. While this was going on, Bill sat on the bench and played with Anna's breasts.

By this time my arm was aching and I stopped, walked over to Bill and said "I'm bushed. Let's leave it for today. Perhaps tomorrow I could try using it with the sulky?"

"I don't see why not. Let's walk back to the house. Anna, heel!" Anna stood up and took position. I undid Sheba's lead and taking her in tow, followed Bill towards the house. When we got there, I said goodnight, and loaded Sheba into the cage and drove home. I had enjoyed today, even though my wrist was sore after all that whip cracking. However I felt that I had learnt a lot. Tomorrow, I'll be driving Sheba complete with whip. OK, I'll be sitting in such a way that it won't touch her, but she wouldn't know that.

Chapter Ten: I put the question

I hummed while I prepared my evening meal, a quick meal, bacon, eggs and chips, one of my favourites. As I felt pleased, I put some chips and part of an egg in Sheba's dish and watched her eat it while I drank some wine.

After the meal, I washed up and then took Sheba into the lounge where I sat in my usual chair and she knelt by my side. While listening to some music, I caressed her breasts, pulling on her nipples. She grunted as I pulled but stayed steady. "Stand." I said. She rose from her knees and stood in the display position. I eased my hand between her legs and my finger entered her vagina. I rubbed her lips and sought her clitoris. I gently caressed it, teasing it out of it's hood, then using several fingers, I pushed into her, rubbing the sides and sliding in her lubrication. I could hear her breathing heavily but she stood rock steady while I violated her sex.