Pony Named Pleasure

Master paused for a moment to seemingly just admire me and we leaned against each other, offering as much of my own strength to him as I took. He kissed me under the jaw, and again on the side of my neck were we had placed his brand on my skin. I was bare now but for my tail belt, which his fingers were unbuckling without needing to look down, and my boots and bridle. I knew I had been wearing panties at some point... I had no idea where they were now. Did I have them on when I woke this morning or were they taken off in the breeding shed? Hmm...

The boots were always last. He would take my bridle and unbuckle it, hang it on its peg to be soaped and lotioned and put away properly later. I then stand, and he kneels to unlace my knee high boots. My feet, my bits of wearable art. When I stand in these high platform boots I have to use every bit of my legs strength and my body's grace to walk, to step high. Hell - just to stand on your own in boots shaped like high heels but without an actual heel to support you is a win. They are designed to give a humans foot the appearance of the hoof and fetlock of a true equine. This means I carry all of my weight forward on the bottem of my foot while my heel is inches higher, supported by the steel spine of the boot, They were custom made to fit my feet and we stuff new sheep's wool into the toes of them every weekend that I play. It both pads the toes and absorbs the blood if you have blister that breaks. Thank the gods for sheep.

Both boots unlaced, Master reaches for me, I think to help me step out of the embrace of the leather footwear but instead I find myself scooped up in his arms and lifted in that "across the threshold" way. Of course I laugh and ask what he's doing. He replies seriously he's going to carry me into the house and I respond that if we leave my boots in the middle of the barn I will leave him and walk to town to find a lawyer instead of into the house. John sighs and asks why he can't ever be romantic. When I reply that carrying my boots for me would be SUPER romantic he sighs, kisses my nose, and sets me down. He also says that if I track barn mud on the carpet I'm going to get spanked instead of a bath.

I wrinkle my nose, grin, and before I start to limp/jog up the dirt path to our home, I ask if he thinks of that as a threat or a promise.

I didn't hear his answer, he had bent to gather my boots and I was already yards away.