At last they had got to the harness. Peter had Lucinda thread her arms through the straps and showed her the buckles that would normally be undone to allow the harness to be fitted even when the pony had their arms bound. It was a cross between a corset and a parachute harness made out of thick black leather straps that still smelt deliciously of the tanning. She was reminded of the handbag shops of her Mediterranean holidays. The wide belt had a row of eyelets regularly spaced around its top and bottom edges. A number of rings were fitted in some of these. At the rear were three buckles that Peter loosely threaded while he adjusted the rest of the straps. The two shoulder straps crossed between her breasts and passed over her shoulders where they joined a sort of back plate again with eyelets carrying some rings. A thinner, more pliant strap ran, like the seams on a bra, from the side of the back plate under each breast. Two further straps hung from the rear of the belt and dangled behind her legs. About a third of the way down these were joined by a single rivet carrying a ring. Peter tapped her legs wide apart and showed how these rear straps could be brought between the legs to enhance or constrain the buttocks and sex. It all seemed a bit of an anticlimax as the thing hung draped over her like a misshapen net.

Lucinda's chagrin turned to curiosity when Peter lifted the workbench over and, with a loud clank, erected it behind her. He made her turn around to face it. 'Bend over, legs apart and hands on here,' he said tapping the open wooden jaws with his crop. She looked at the piece of workshop clutter and frowned. He caught her view, 'Oh, not good enough for Her Ladyship eh?' he commented. 'Well I hadn't time to obtain a proper horse so this will have to do.' 'Horse? What was he on about?' thought Lucinda as she approached the bench. She firmly placed her feet about a metre apart and, stretching her arms up first, gave a couple of bends back and forward then flopped down and gripped the nearest wooden jaw letting her head hang under her arms as she peered about. 'Like the 'Lion' posture', she thought. Her booted legs looked even better from this view and she swayed and watched the crotch straps of the harness swing between them. Peter orbited her giving the occasional tap with the crop until her position was to his liking. The tightness of the boots really helped her now and she could feel her stretched muscles pulling her buttocks wide open for him. He suggested that she turn her toes in a little and she felt her anus pucker further as a result. Finally he stood besides her, lifted the rear straps over her back then shifted her hips until she could see the camera directly behind her with its single glass eye like a cannon aimed directly at her rear. She took the opportunity to playfully rub him with her hip and he chuckled then cupped her breasts and gave them a squeeze. 'Feeling a little frisky, are we?' he asked. She tossed her head and gave a pathetic attempt at a whinny.

She watched his inverted legs walk to the table and, making a face at the camera, thrust her anus at it and gave a few practice pushes. Images of the previous day filed her mind and she imagined the ring of pink muscle pouting, fish like, and hungry to be filled. Peter finished clattering about at the table and, with latex gloved hands, placed the dildo tray on the floor between her legs and knelt to one side. He picked up the gel and dribbled it down the divide of her buttocks until it dripped over her labia and onto the floor. Lucinda purred as he massaged and gently fingered her anus and she felt it relax and blossom open of its own accord. He then picked up the tapered dildo and its coolness replaced the warmth of his finger. He gently buggered her with this, occasionally fully withdrawing it, until she started to rock back on each inward thrust feeling it penetrate and dilate her further. The rhythm and sensations triggered memories of the last time she was penetrated in such a fashion and, folding her arms as a pillow on the bench, rested her cheek and started to drift into her mind space. Gradually the familiar twinges returned at each inward drive and started to increase in discomfort until something shot up inside her and stopped with part of it pressing on the surrounding area. Lucinda opened her eyes and saw the tapered dildo lying slickly in a pool of gel and the large black butt plug gone. She clenched her anal muscles and felt it sit snugly in place. It felt very good. Like welcoming an old friend He threaded the two crotch straps between her legs and along her groin onto two buckles set wide apart on the front of the belt such that they held the 'collar' of the plug firmly up against her crease and left her sex and belly exposed. It felt even better and Lucinda found herself relaxing to accommodate it further. She started to stand but Peter held her down. 'There's more,' he said, snapping off the gloves and putting on another pair. The discarded gloves lay like used condoms under her breasts 'At least they're not pink,' she though. He sat on his haunches and squirted more gel onto his fingers then smeared it liberally over her vulva relying on only his fingers to enlarge her. Her libido started to take over and she couldn't help notice the corresponding bulge in his trousers so she thrust down on his hand desperate for him to start on her clitoris. He playfully smacked her rear with his sticky hand. 'Hussy!' he laughed, and stopped his ministrations. She rocked at thin air trying fruitlessly to get the plug to stimulate her or, better still, to inspire Peter to put his bulge to work. Instead, to her delight, he picked up a large floppy dildo and placed its shiny plum-sized glans between her dripping lips. 'Sit on this then, my pretty!' he said as he pushed gently. Eagerly she thrust back and, with a long satisfying glide and visions of El filling her mind, she engulfed it until she felt it bang her cervix and she gave a little squeal. Annoyingly, unlike a real penis or the unstoppable El, this did not want to move. Instead, Peter attached another strap to the ring at the juncture of the straps in her crotch and the centre of her belt at the front and tightened it to hold the dildo in place. 'All done. Up you get and back to the spot,' he commanded and she gingerly pushed herself up as the twin objects shifted about inside her. He took her hand and helped her totter around and reassume her position. Working rapidly around the harness, Peter adjusted buckles and straps until she felt both of the welcome intruders nestle snugly into place and felt fully filled and content. He had also started to tighten the belt. This had the effect of pushing her bowels and uterus down and her rib cage and breasts up enhancing the sensations in both. She felt like a hyper-sensitised, erogenous hourglass. Looking down at her tightly cinched waist she was also very glad she'd skipped breakfast.

Instead of the strange double glove, Peter made her fold her arms behind her back and, using two Velcro straps threaded through the back plate rings, bound them tightly together. Her breasts perked up accordingly. Again, more tiny padlocks, and she rattled like Harry Houdini.

Next came the bridle and bit. Apart from the tail, this was the item that had most impressed her during her research. She had also seen some of the prices, and hated to think how much Peter had spent on this weekend that made her even more determined to help him enjoy it. With affection, she watched him pootling about by the window, loosening the buckles and shaking the straps. He walked to her wearing such an intense expression that she couldn't help herself. 'The best bit?' she said. Then she added, giggling, 'I'm sorry love. I just couldn't resist that!' He looked like thunder and she tensed herself awaiting the crop. It was worth the slight pain to lighten the proceedings slightly. After all this was pony-play. He just silently stared. 'Look. I really am sorry. You know how I am?' At last he spoke, 'That's three breaches.' She pouted, 'I was only teasing, can't we loosen up occasionally?' He held up four fingers, obviously not. 'OK, OK, you win... Master,' and she presented her rear to him. Five fingers. He ignored her offered buttocks and gripped her nipple tightly as he walked past and then dragged her back to the workbench as he squeezed harder. It ached horribly and she stood and watched as he placed the foam block of the day before on top of the bench. He unlocked and unclasped her arms, pointed at the floor at the end of the bench and snapped, 'Stand there. Now!'

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.