Taking the interstate north, we quickly left the city behind. After

about forty-five minutes I exited the highway for a two-lane country

road. We passed the rolling hills of the great valley and started to

climb into the mountains. It was a glorious June day, clear and warm. It

seemed the whole world was bright blue sky and growing green life.

Sunlight through trees dappled the road ahead of us. Wind whipped

through our open windows and roared over rock and roll turned up loud on

the tape player. I glanced over at my slave.

Her head bounced and her bare feet patted the floorboard in time with

the music. Her hands remained crossed between her back and the car seat.

Neither of us had spoken since our journey began. I was enjoying the day

and the drive, and hoping to build her anticipation of what might come.

She, of course, held a golf ball in her mouth. At the top of a narrow

pass between two green mountains, I slowed the car nearly to a stop and

turned off onto a narrow gravel road. We took a rough bounce as our

wheels left the pavement, then drove on followed by a plume of dust and

gravel. After crossing a wooden bridge over a small stream, the road

turned sharply and wound up the mountain face. We were nearing our

destination. I turned off the tape player. I waited, listening to the

wind and the crunch of gravel under our tires. "Strip," I said.

"Hhnnh?" My slave turned blind eyes toward me and cocked her head,

questioning. "Strip," I repeated. "Now." She nodded, then slipped her

hands up her back to release the clasp on her top, letting it fall in

her lap. She stiffened, lifting her bottom off the seat and slipped her

shorts over her hips and to her knees. Leaning forward, she pushed her

shorts to the floorboard and kicked them off her feet. She dropped the

tiny top next to her shorts. "Knees wide," I said. She spread her legs

apart, right knee touching the car door and left knee next to the gear

shift. "Hands behind." She slid her hands once more between her back and

the seat. I slowed the car to survey her nude body. I never grew tired

of looking at her. I could see she was growing more and more excited as

we climbed the mountain. Her face and neck flushed and she trembled,

barely. As we rounded each turn, she cocked her head from side to side,

trying, I suppose, to pick up some sound that would give her a hint

about where we were. I don't think she found any clues. About halfway up

the mountainside another, smaller, rougher gravel track split off from

the one we were on. I turned into the side road and immediately stopped.

A steel gate blocked the way about fifty feet in. "Wait right here," I

told her unnecessarily. She could only guess where she was within a

hundred-mile radius and besides, she was nude. She wasn't going

anywhere. I opened my door and stepped out. I walked to the gate,

fumbling briefly with my key chain, then finding the small key I was

looking for. I snapped open the padlock, pulled it free of the hasp and

swung the gate out of the way. The family of a good friend and college

classmate owned the land we were about to enter. When I had asked about

visiting to camp or picnic, he happily gave me the gate key. "It'll help

to have somebody check in on the place now and then," he had said. "I

doubt we'll get up there at all this summer." He couldn't know how happy

I was to have a private mountain to play on. I pulled the car just

inside the gate, then swung the gate shut and re-locked it behind us.

"Almost there," I said as I put the car in gear and started up the rough

track into the woods. She nodded slowly and smiled around the golf ball.

The road wound through the woods for a few hundred yards and ended in a

small grassy glade. I pulled the knapsack and cooler out of the rear of

the car and walked around to the passenger side. "Get out, " I ordered.

She swung her door open and tentatively probed the ground with one foot.

Feeling soft grass under her toes, she stepped out, stood for a moment,

then dropped slowly to her knees on the warm turf. She leaned far

forward, pressing her face to the ground and crossed her hands behind

her back. Her knees spread far apart and her fanny pointed straight up,

exposing her open cunt and asshole to the woods. She was an odd sight,

huddled in the sun on the grass, wearing only a pair of plastic

wraparound sunglasses. "Do you know what I have planned for you now,

slave?" I asked. "I think so, Master," she replied without looking up,

"but I'm afraid to say." "Tell me."

"Yesterday you made...you had me try on blinders," she began, "like a

race horse would wear." "Yes, slut."

"You're going to use me as a horse, Master?" she asked. "I don't think I

understand." "You'll understand very soon. More precisely, you're going

to be my pony," I replied. "My pack pony." "Yes, Master?"

"Now, what does a pony have that you don't?" "Hooves, Master?" "I've

thought of that, but we'll have to make do with your feet, slave. What

else?" "A mane, Master?"

I reached down and stroked the hair at the back of her neck. "It looks

like you've already got a mane, little pony." "Yes, I guess I do,

Master." She spoke straight to the ground. "Anything else?"

"A real pony has hair all over her body?" "I think your skin will do

just fine." I rubbed my hand slowly down her naked back, then trailed my

fingernails back up to her neck. She shuddered slightly. "There's one

more thing I think you may be avoiding," I told her.

"I wouldn't do that, Master. I wouldn't avoid anything you want of me."

"Well?" "Yes, Master," she said. "One more thing." She paused, seeming

to think very hard, although I was sure she knew what I had in mind. "A

tail, Master. Ponies have a tail and I don't." "You're right." I smiled.

"Ponies have long tails. Do you want a tail, my pony?" She hesitated,

then began, "Yes, Master. If it pleases you." She stopped, then began

again, "Yes. If I'm to be your pony, Master, please give me a tail." I

opened the top of the knapsack and fumbled around inside, looking for

her "tail." She cocked her head to the side, trying to pick up every

sound. "Where should I put your tail?" I asked as I continue searching.

"How does a human pony carry her tail?" "In my asshole, Master," she

replied, with a sparkle in her voice that sounded almost cheerful. "I'll

hold my tail in my asshole." "Yes, you will." I found one, then quickly

the second and the third of the items I needed. I held the big butt plug

with the leather loop at its base and tied the handle of the short

leather flogger to the loop with a short strip of leather lacing.

Crouching behind her, I smeared the end of the plug with K-Y jelly and

pressed it against her puckered anus. Her thighs tensed and she pushed

against the plug. I pushed back steadily. She moaned softly, almost

inaudibly. The rubber plug disappeared inch by inch into her

ever-widening hole. Finally, the widest part of the plug slipped through

and her sphincter closed around the narrow base. I released her tail and

stood. The whip handle and lashes hung straight down, the ends of the

leather strips lying on the ground. "Thank you, Master. I couldn't be a

proper pony for you without a tail." Her hips and thighs wriggled and

her whole body swayed as she adjusted to the plastic cone thrust into

her bowels. "Thank you," she whispered to the grass. "Kneel up," I

ordered. She swung her hands down off her back, pushed herself upright,

then recrossed her hands behind her back. "Do you know where we are,

slave?"

"No, Master." She turned her head scanning the field with sightless

eyes. "I know we're in the mountains somewhere. In a field. I see just a

bit of grass below and the sky glows blue at the top of the glasses.

There are trees around; I can hear them brushing in the wind. The sun's

out; it's warm on my back. "Does it frighten you, not knowing where you

are?"

"At first, when you made me strip in the car. I didn't know who might be

around." She bowed her head. "But not now, Master. You're here. I know

we're alone. You won't let anything hurt me, Master." "I appreciate your

trust." I gently stroked her hair, across the top of her head and down

her back. She leaned softly against my hand, returning my caress with

her body.

"Now, what does a pack pony wear?" "Blinders, of course, Master, if

she's frightened or unruly." She smiled broadly." "Yes, we already

established that," I said. "What else? How does a pony's Master control

her?" "Well, the blinders are to calm her, Master." She cocked her head

to one side and pursed her lips. "She'd wear a bridle and a bit, Master.

He'd control her with reins." "Good, good. How does a pack pony carry

her load?"

"That's easy, Master. She wears a pack or saddle bags." "Are you ready

to put on your pony gear?" "Yes, Master," she replied. "I'm all yours."

She turned her head up toward the sound of my voice, a broad, bright

smile on her lips. "First we have something that's not strictly for a

pony," I told her, while I rummaged through the knapsack again, "but I

don't think you'd want to go on without it." I pulled out her collar and

several sets of leather cuffs. "Yes, Master?" "Lift your hair."

She reached behind her head and pulled her long dark hair up and away

from her neck. I bent down and fastened the collar around her throat.

"Thank you," she said. "I'm beginning to feel naked without my collar."

"You ARE naked," I chuckled. "I guess I am, Master." She laughed as well.

"The blinders are next," I said, pulling the leather device I had made

the day before out of the knapsack. "Close your eyes. You are not to see

your surroundings." "Of course, Master." I pulled the sunglasses from

her face, folded them and dropped them into the knapsack. Her eyes were

tightly and deliberately shut. I arranged the two flaps of the blinders

over her eyes and buckled the strap behind her head, just above the

collar. I tugged gently on the strap to be certain it was secure, then

said, "You may open your eyes now." "Thank you, Master." She turned her

head from side to side, scanning what little vision the blinders allowed

her. The leather flaps restricted her sight to a narrow band straight

down her body. She continued to hold her hair up, hands behind her neck.

"I don't want to catch you rocking your head back to see more." "No,

Master. I won't." She still smiled. I think she was enjoying her

conversion into a pack pony as much as I did. "The bridle and bit are

next," I told her. "This I'm going to have to improvise." From the

knapsack, I took a four inch long wooden dowel with a screw eye in each

end and several lengths of cotton rope. I tied a rope to each screw eye.

"Open wide."

"Master, may I say one more thing?" she asked. "Yes, slut." "I love you,

Master." "Thanks, I love you too. Now, open." She opened her mouth wide

and I pushed the dowel back between her teeth, making a bit that both

filled and opened her mouth. I took the ropes behind her head and tied

them tight below her hair, just above the collar and blinder strap. I

pulled my fingers down through her hair straightening and evening it.

"Pull your hair together, like a ponytail," I told her."

"Nnnhhnnh," she nodded and held her hair in a tight ring made by the

fingers of both hands. I tied the ropes around this pony tail, capturing

her hair, then ran them up over the top of her head to a knot over the

bridge of her nose. I fed the ends back through the screw eyes in her

bit, completing her bridle. The white ropes hung down to the ground at

her feet. "Drop your hands," I said. Her hands fell to her sides. I took

the rest of her pony gear, more rope and a set of alligator clamps, out

of the knapsack, then closed and tied shut the top flap. "Behind." She

clasped her hands at her back. "Very good, very quick. You are getting

the hang of this."

She nodded vigorously. I think the corners of her mouth would have

turned up in a smile had the bit not prevented it. "Okay, now. Lets get

this pack on you." I picked up the pack and held it as she threaded her

arms through the straps. With a twist of both shoulders, she seated the

straps over her shoulders and down her chest next to her breasts. She

bounced up and down a couple times, getting the feel of the weight on

her back, her tits bouncing, almost independent of her body. Her nipples

swelled and reddened. "I have to make sure that pack stays on you." She

cocked her head to the side, quizzically. I looped a rope from one strap

above her tits to the other strap, then back, underneath them. I made a

tight loop around each breast and finished by tying the first loops

together between her red and swelling globes, pulling them together.

"Mmmmm," she moaned softly as I finished with her tits. "Like that?" I

asked. "Mmmhhmmmh." She nodded. "Good." I gave each engorged nipple a

flick with my fingernails. "Aaanh, aaanh." She jerked away from the

pain, but made no move to stop me with her hands. I strapped the cuffs

she had worn the previous night back on her wrists and elbows. Pulling

her left arm up and back, I clipped the elbow to a ring sewn to the top

of the pack at its outside edge. Then I clipped the wrist cuff to

another ring at the bottom. The process was repeated with her right arm.

Her upper arms were held horizontal, almost straight back from her body,

pushing her tits forward to project so far they almost seemed separate

from her body. Her forearms pointed straight down at the ground, hands

hanging just below the bottom of the pack. "Comfy?" I taunted. She

rocked her head from side to side, in a noncommittal gesture.

"Almost done," I said. "We'll be ready to go in just a minute." I took

the set of alligator clips out of my pocket and held them just below her

chin, so she could see them. "Brace yourself," I said. She took a deep

breath and held it. I quickly clipped a clamp to each protruding nipple.

"Ssssssssssss," her breath hissed out around the bit. I threaded each of

the two ropes that would serve as reins through the ring connecting the

clamps on that side to the chain between them. "You'll have to follow me

very attentively." I told her, giving the reins a gently tug.

"NnNNNnnn." "See what I mean.?" She nodded vigorously. "One last thing."

I picked up the cooler. It was a small one, made to hold a twelve pack

of beer or a picnic lunch. She tensed, hearing the ice rattle in the

bottom. "You didn't think I was going to carry it, did you?" Her head

moved up, beginning a nod. She stopped, thinking better of her response,

then hung her head and shook it slowly from side to side. I stood behind

her, holding the cooler. A cylindrical plastic handle stuck up above the

top of the cooler at each end. I placed one handle in each of her bound

hands. Her fingers coiled around to grip. "Got it?"

She nodded slowly. I gradually let go of the cooler. She leaned forward

against the weight. Her shoulders pulled even farther back; her tits,

round and swollen like red grapefruit, stuck out even more. The cooler

swung on her pinned arms, its bottom even with the widest curve of her

hips. "On our way," I said, picking up her reins and giving them a

gentle tugs as I started toward the trail head. A sharp gurgling breath

escape her bitted mouth and she fell in behind me. She would watch the

reins very closely, making sure to follow their angle and following me

closely to keep them slack. Any guidance I had to give by tugging on the

leads would be agony on her clamped nipples.