Lucinda pushed her shoes off with her toes and walked across the plastic floor to the centre of the room where she started to tug her blouse from her skirt. A day of client review meetings meant she had to dress the part as a 'suit' but was, as always, glad to discard the uniform. She still regretted not being able to shower first as this simple daily ritual always marked the transition from work to recreation for her. Meanwhile Peter was busying with his computer on the desk in the corner. Suddenly an image of her appeared on the large screen. She made a face at the camera on the left and mouthed 'Hi mum'. It seemed odd looking at herself reversed and took her a few moments and further silly gestures to get used to the fact it was not a mirror. Staring at the centre of the screen with an occasional glance to check the image she started an exaggerated strip tease as she hummed 'The Stripper'. Peter laughed. 'Oh very impressive' he commented as he fiddled with the apparatus. She pirouetted, tossed her bra away, jiggled her at him and said, 'You should see what I do for tips!' Her jokiness indicated that her nervousness was getting the better of her and she added cupping her breasts, 'Maybe a whip round?' Peter sighed and rolled his eyes before adding in a serious tone, 'Maybe. Maybe much, much more.' He snapped his fingers, 'Enough frivolity. Clothes off!' She hastily complied and, after slipping off her panties, placed the folded pile on one of the chairs before returning to her spot. There were now two images of her, side by side on the screen. The left image was as before, but the right image, to her horror, showed her rear. She tightened her buttocks and willed the apparent mountains, OK, dimpled foothills of cellulite to disappear. They stubbornly refused to budge, remaining as dormant as two sacks of lard. She twisted and peered over her shoulder at the offending parts. She was mortified, 'You're not going to show this to anyone are you?' 'I don't believe this!' he exclaimed, 'I'm about to record all sorts of intimate and potentially hard-core activities and you're worried about whether your ass looks big!' Lucinda stared back at the image of her bum as she tweaked the, frankly perfect, globes. 'Well I never expected this! And, well, I mean, damn it. This sort of thing is important to a woman. Let's get our priorities right here' she added a grin. 'You little minx' he laughed, 'I'll soon be adjusting your 'priorities' for you!' As an afterthought, she asked, 'Is this really being recorded?' Peter nodded, 'Only onto the computer, I can edit together some selected highlights for us to view later when we review your training.' 'Yeah, and when I'm not around and Mr. Wobbly wants to play' she thought to herself. It was rather quaint that he might prefer to toss off to pictures of her than the other porno videos she'd seen on his shelf, some of which they'd viewed together as they sprawled on the settee on this very spot.

Lucinda made an exaggerated curtsey to him. 'Your unworthy pupil awaits, O Master, what will you have me do?' Peter ignored her until he seemed satisfied with the video set up and went to the coffee table. He carefully slipped on a pair of soft, brown leather gloves, picked up a riding crop that he smacked into his gloved hand and walked around her, occasionally tapping his leg with the crop as he inspected. Her eyes followed him as he towered over her. Suddenly the crop sliced across her right buttock. 'Shit!' she exclaimed and jumped forwards, 'What the fuck was that for?' She rubbed her stinging cheek and stared at him defiantly. 'Darn,' he sighed, 'You do indeed have a great deal to learn.' He motioned her back to the spot and added as he rubbed the tip of the crop over the rising weal, 'Firstly, you do not answer back. You do not even say a word without permission and you certainly don't swear at me.' She was embarrassed at her own outburst, it was uncharacteristic but the shock of being unexpectedly hit had made her jump. 'I'm sorry love, but I...' He raised a hand. 'What did I just say?' 'I know but...' His wrist merely flicked and another blow stung her left buttock, this time she held her position and her tongue. 'Silence! This is not a discussion, I am telling you how to behave.' She swallowed hard and looked up at him with tears welling in her eyes, but she remained quiet. 'That's better, now, the second thing. You do not look me, or any other Master, Mistress, trainer, owner etc. in the eyes. Only when you are trained as a pony and will you need to use them to communicate. For the time being, that seems a long way off' Downcast, her gaze shot away from him and she studied herself the big screen, she noticed that a long red weal was already visible on each buttock. His accuracy impressed her but the sensation failed to utterly. 'That's much better, you are doing very well.' He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand and gently wiped away a tear. Lucinda's emotions tumbled through a whole gamut of feelings from anger through confusion to love. Bereft of even the most basic of communications she felt lost and awkward but, feeling the contrast of the ebbing sting of her buttocks and the warmth in the touch on her cheek, she began to understand the simple bounds he was setting her. He sensed her discomfort. 'We'll just cover some basic rules for now then stop the formal part and you can ask me whatever you like. But, and this is very important, if there is anything, I mean anything that you feel you can't handle then use a safe-word.' Lucinda tilted her head a little. 'You can use 'yellow' for something that you are worried about and I'll slow down or 'red' for an absolute no-no and I'll stop immediately. Nod if you understand.' Lucinda did so, hoping at first that she would not get into the red then, deep down, relishing the thought of having her boundaries tested. After all, why had she agreed to do this anyway? 'You will be gagged or wearing a bit later, in those situations I'll give you a small ball to drop instead.' Again Lucinda nodded, determined she would dutifully hang onto any balls she was presented with. Peter continued, 'In time we'll dispense with my needing to tell you explicitly what to do, you'll learn to interpret my intent just like a real pony. But, for now, I'll be instructing you carefully and I expect absolute and immediate obedience. Is that clear?' Another nod. Peter seemed satisfied and resumed his inspection. 'Stand up straight, shoulders back, buttocks clenched.' He commanded. Lucinda inhaled and stood to attention and breathed slowly assuming easily tadasana, the 'tree' posture in Yoga. She felt herself calm as she slipped comfortably into the familiar mind space that had saved her sanity many times since she'd started to learn Yoga from her aunt one summer during a particularly stressful time at school when she was 15. Coincidently, and possibly appropriately under the circumstances, it was also the same summer vacation she'd let a boy slip a finger inside. For her this marked a clear transition from girlhood to womanhood, her suitor's na ve fumbling had also helped considerably to save her sanity. Peter placed the end of the crop under her chin and lifted her face. 'Look into the distance, if you find it easier try to focus on an imaginary distant object.' Remembering her earlier reprimand, she let her eyes roam the room and finally fixed on her own eyes depicted in the screen. Seeing herself not herself, so to speak, gave her a sort of distance from the events as though she was observing herself in a dream. 'Good, very good,' he commented.

Lucinda felt the little cord on the tip of the crop run down her back as though he was counting her vertebrae. 'Shoulders right back' he said, 'I want to see those breasts lift.' She'd not done it quite this way in her Yoga class but Lucinda obliged and thrust her chest forwards and her clone responded accordingly. Although she had hated her tiny titties at school she was now very fond of how compact and neat they made her look when naked. This was a much better view than before. To her delight Peter reached around her and ran his gloved fingertips over her belly then weighed her left breast in the palm of his hand. 'Hmmm, a trifle disappointing. I'm sure you can do better?' 'Bollocks!' she thought, 'They're exquisite'. Lucinda arched her back as Peter lightly pinched her nipple. Slowly the pressure increased and she tried to bite back her cries as her delicate flesh protested. She grimaced and he repeated his ministrations on her right nipple. With a final flick he let her breasts bounce free and seemed moderately pleased at their aroused condition. So did Lucinda as the returning blood made them tingle warmly and the aureolae redden. She had to admit they did look even better now and felt wonderful.

The crop resumed its journey down her spine until she felt it start to explore the crease in her buttocks and her anus. She involuntarily clenched and he made a small tutting noise and withdrew. He pulled a small footstool over and, checking the image behind him, sat about half a metre in front of her. 'Legs apart' he commanded. The insidious crop tapped the inside of her left ankle and she placed her feet a shoulder's width apart. 'Spread your feet!' he snapped and clipped her just above her knee. She did so and he put down the crop and produced a small remote control Lucinda had not seen before. As he aimed this at the 'front' camera Lucinda heard a slight whirring and was impressed to see the image of her hips and thighs grow larger on the screen. 'How he loves his toys,' she thought. Satisfied with the image, Peter leant forward and ran his hands down the outside of her thighs while letting his fingertips play over her still sore buttocks. He seemed pleased with the firmness of her tensed muscles and she could feel his breath on her pubis and sensitive folds as he stroked her and held her steady by her hips. She risked a quick glance and noticed him gazing intently at her sex that she felt respond of its own accord. He nodded and placed his thumbs on her outer lips, she swayed a little. 'Stand still girl! I'm only looking. You'll have to get used to this as others will want to inspect your condition down there' 'Others? What others?' she thought. The idea of him not only allowing, but encouraging other people view her so intimately, filled her with the same feeling of arousal as the train journey just a week ago. She proudly and somewhat obscenely thrust her hips forwards and pressed her sex into his prying thumbs. She was delighted to feel and see herself flower open before him, she now appreciated the extra dimension the camera gave and was reminded of those early feminist 'know your vagina' classes she'd read about. The poor things had had to make do with handheld mirrors in cold community centres, no wonder they seemed so grumpy. Maybe the Japanese brown goods industry was actually run by post-feminists? Her immediate experience at the agency sadly told her otherwise however. He responded to her puffy pudenda by keeping her lips held open with his left thumb and finger as he shifted closer. Lucinda gasped as he suddenly thrust two gloved fingers straight up her vulva. She gulped and tried to rise on her feet but was rewarded with increased upward pressure until she bore most of her weight on his probing fingers and the balls of her feet. To her mixed distress and delight he pinched the hood of her clitoris in the same fashion as he'd tweaked her nipples until she felt the blood start to pulse in the tiny bud below. Holding her in this way, he tried to insert another finger that made her gasp audibly. He nodded and withdrew then sat back. After a few moments consideration, he said, 'Right. As I expected, we have some work to do here.' It sounded like some form of gynaecological car mechanic pronouncing his verdict on a wreck. Only one careful lady owner, she thought, and added in her reverie. OK maybe it's had a few knocks but it's always been well lubricated. She inwardly grinned at the potential analogies. Meanwhile, Peter continued his verbal assessment as Lucinda continued to hold her pose despite the interesting feelings still lingering down below. 'Your posture is very good.' 'I should damned well hope so after the Yoga and dance aerobics' she thought. 'However, your control of your erogenous zones is typically human.' Lucinda frowned a little. She'd been very pleased with her 'erogenous zones' and had endeavoured to put them to good use at every possible chance, as he well knew. She'd noticed he wasn't complaining the other weekend. 'You must remember one simple fact. You belong to your Master, mind...' he gently tapped her head with the crop, '...and body.' This time he tapped her breasts and cupped her sex. 'All of your actions have to celebrate this simple fact. None of this coy posturing.' 'Coy! Coy!' she thought, 'Starkers in front of two video cameras with you shoving your hand up me and you call me coy!' She nodded sweetly however and he continued, 'The most effective way to reach the mind is through the body which is why extremes of physical sensation and ritual are so important...' He went on with his mini lecture and her mind drifted to the objects lying on the coffee table. 'Yes, yes, jolly nice bit of pop-psych, but when do I get to dress up?' she wondered. 'You may speak. Any questions?' He eventually asked. 'All in good time I suppose', she thought and shook her head. 'No Master' He glanced at his watch and stood before walking to the table. Maybe now was dressing up time? 'OK, we'll start with some simple BDSM training to give you time to think over what I've just said.' 'Yes Master' 'Did you bring the shoes I asked for?' He was referring to a pair of high heels he mentioned in his e-mail. 'I brought my two tallest,' she replied, 'But I'm not sure they are what you are looking for.' 'Fetch them and we'll see' J scampered out of the room and returned with her back pack. She opened it and produced the two pairs. One pair was a very sexy looking silver Manolo Blahnik copy that she loved, the other were stacks. Peter frowned. He was obviously unimpressed. 'Hmmm, I see. Tomorrow we'll go and buy you some boots but, for now, those will have to do. Put them on.' He pointed to the stacks. 'I'm sorry love, but those are all I had' she said as she packed away the classier pair and slipped her feet into the stacks. She looked down from her increased height at her image on the screen. The clunky shoes looked ridiculous, but her naked body towering above them reminded her of a Helmut Newton photograph. With the correct footwear she could look really great she thought. 'Hey, that's not that bad' she said 'Shhhh, no more speaking' he said softly, 'Hold out your hand.' She offered her right hand and was horrified to see him place in it the small red ball he referred to earlier. It was the size of a large marble but was light and hollow like a ping-pong ball. She took it and held it carefully. 'Remember what I said about dropping it?' She swallowed hard and nodded. What had he got in store for her next?

Summary: Lucinda, an attractive 26-year-old advertising executive, is bored with her shallow job. Peter, a 39-year-old ex-football playing network trouble-shooter from America, introduces her to the world of pony-play. She seeks a hedonistic but trusting relationship whereas he wishes to add her to his long list of trophies. A Pony Tale chronicles her experiences and challenges during this journey.

Warning: This work contains adult material. It explicitly describes heterosexual, homosexual and group sex activities and covers many aspects of submission and discipline. It is NOT to be viewed by minors or residents of countries where the depiction of these acts is illegal.