It Shouldn't Happen To A Vet

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"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.