Pony Girl

by Hungry Guy
- with art by El Coyote
- do not use without the author's permission.
>

It was a cool autumn Saturday morning in rural western Pennsylvania. Vern rose early, yawned, stretched, and gazed out his bedroom window onto his 100-acre farm several miles from the town of Kittanning. It wasn't much of a farm, though; most of his land was woods and he had only one animal: a pony.

In a mood to go for a ride, he showered and put on his boots, jeans, and western shirt. Before going out to the barn, he warmed a pot of coffee and toasted a muffin. Perhaps he'd bring his trusty old fishing pole and try to catch Ol' Flounder. That danged fish always got away. He'd sure make a right fine dinner one of these days.

Being a brisk 55 degrees outside, Vern pulled on a light jacket and sauntered out to the barn. A gas heater hung from the ceiling above the stall, keeping it at about 68 degrees.

"Morning, girl," he said as he grabbed a shovel and entered her stall.

"M-m-m-morning, V-V-V-Vern," Mindy answered as her breath exited her mouth in puffs of steam. Mindy stepped aside as Vern shoveled the urine soaked straw that covered the floor of her stall, and scooped up her manure, and dumped it into a steel drum outside. Her feet clicked on the floor from the horseshoes strapped to her feet with leather straps riveted onto her feet.

"C-c-c-c-could you p-p-p-please give m-m-me m-m-more heat, V-V-Vern! P-p-please!"

"Now Mindy," Vern sighed. "You know gas is expensive." Taking a brush, he stepped behind her and examined her arms that were shackled behind her back with her elbows locked together above her butt and her wrists locked together just below the back of her neck. He began brushing her long blonde mane, brushing out the bugs that had started to make a nest in it the night before.

She sneezed and tried to flick the snot from her nose by flicking her head rapidly from side to side.

He then looked her over. Her legs and thighs had the bulk and bulging muscles of a professional body builder, but the rest of her body was slender, almost anemic. He sprayed bug spray over her nude body, and throughout her mane, and on her patch of muff hair. Lastly, he wiped some mud off his brand that he had burned onto her thigh with an electric branding iron shortly after he purchased her a few years ago.

Then Vern took down the custom made saddle that he had purchased from a BDSM site that made saddles for pony girls. Setting the brackets over her shoulders, he rested the saddle against her back as she stood there shivering. He then slung the cinch strap around her chest and pulled it as tight as he could, until Mindy whimpered in pain.

Then he slid her bridle over her head and slid her bit into her mouth, buckling it in place. Then he attached his tackle box and fishing rod to the straps that hung from her saddle.

At that, he opened the stall door and led her out to his small corral. He stepped up behind her and mounted the saddle, resting his belly against her shoulders and pressing his thighs into her kidneys. He gave her a whack with his riding crop and they were off.

Mindy walked slowly to the end of the corral where Vern leaned down and opened the gate. He urged his mount through and onto the trail that led into the woods.

"C'mon," Vern urged her as he kicked her into a gentle run. It was about a half-hour ride from the homestead to the pond at the other end of his property. Upon arriving near the water's edge, he tied Mindy to a tree limb and headed down to the water's edge and set up.

Baiting his hook and casting into the pond, he stood and waited. He knew from experience that Ol' Flounder was out and about this time of day. The sneaky fish had never taken the bait, but Vern knew he was there. Seeing Ol' Flounder splash in defiance was a sight to behold. He was a big un'!

After about an hour in the morning dawn, Vern was about ready to give up and head back home for some microwave grub when he saw the dastardly fish jump up just a few feet from his float, sending ripples through the water.

Then...yes! The float disappeared under the water and nearly yanked his pole from his grasp. Not to take any chances, Vern had filled his reel with 50 Pound Test. The fish fought, but so did Vern. Even 50 Pound Test would break if snapped suddenly, so he let the fish fight, and then reeled him in slowly. He let the fish fight a little more, then reeled him in a little more. About a half-hour later, Ol' Flounder was flapping and gasping for breath on a tree stump set back from the water's edge. Vern dropped the fish into a small plastic garbage bag along with some pond water. Mmmm-mmmm! Vern'll be eating good tonight!

With gear in hand, he attached it all to Mindy's saddle, along with his prize, and headed home.

About halfway back, Mindy stopped and squatted slightly. "Ya' okay, girl?" Vern asked.

Mindy could only grunt with the bit in her mouth, but a moment later, he heard her pass wind and drop some turds onto the ground between her legs. Vern sat there in the saddle, patiently waiting for Mindy to finish her business, then kicked her to motion when she straightened up again.

Back at the barn, he removed her bridle and saddle and hung them back up. Her back was all sweaty where the saddle had been pressing against it, and she had a small blister above one of her butt cheeks where his tackle box must have been rubbing. Taking a hose, he hosed her down with cold water, drawing a shriek from her. "Yaaaaa!" she gasped and began panting heavy.

Placing her back into her stall, he filled her water bucket, and scooped a can of dog food into an iron bowl bolted to the wall.

Then, he headed back into the warmth of the house to start a fire on the gas grill and prepare his fish fry feast.

With his catch in a frying pan on the counter, Vern rooted through his kitchen and discovered that he was out of tartar sauce. He also thought of a few other things that he'd need. A trip into town was in order.

He put the pan and fish in the fridge and threw his jacket on again. Out by the barn, he pulled the little surrey out of the shed and set it in front of the barn. Mindy was sleeping on the straw when he entered and pulled the harness down from the rack. "C'mon, girl!" Vern called out. "Wake up! We're going out!"

Mindy yawned and struggled to her feet with her arms shackled tightly against her back. He placed her bridle back on her head, and then strapped the harness over her shoulders and buckled it tightly.

He led her outside into the brisk autumn day once again. "V-V-V-Vern! It's f-f-f-freezing!" she moaned and shivered.

"Yup, it sure is cold early this year," Vern answered as he zipped his jacket up and hitched her to the surrey.

With shopping list in pocket, he got in the surrey and snapped the whip. Mindy took off in a run.

"C'mon, girl! Let's get a move on!" Vern snapped the whip again.

Vern had to crack the whip one or two more times during the hour-long ride into town as Mindy's powerful legs remained at a rapid sprint.

Although Amish were more populous in Eastern Pennsylvania, there were some scattered farmsteads out near Kittanning, and so a few horses--real horses--and wagons were hitched out in front of the _Try-N-Save._ Vern led Mindy up to an open spot along the hitching rail near the front entrance while the mundanes, in their shiny automobiles, searched in vain for a close parking space in the vast car park.

Climbing down, he tied Mindy to the hitching post. She was panting furiously as sweat flowed freely down her glistening body, making a sizeable puddle of perspiration in just the few seconds she had been standing there. Her golden mane was totally drenched.

Some older woman passed by scolding Vern, "Put some clothes on her you pervert! There's still indecency laws, you know!"

"Shaddap!" Vern yelled back at the Puritanical busybody.

As Vern finished hitching Mindy, another rider pulled up next to Mindy. A nude pony boy, sweating as profusely as Vern's Mindy, was pulling a similar surrey ridden by a woman dressed all in black leather with decorative chains jingling as she walked.

"Good day," she said to Vern as she tied her pony boy to the hitching rail.

"Good day," Vern answered. Vern wasn't into the whole leather and dungeon scene--he just liked having a pony girl.

"Say," the woman began, "she's attractive. Shall we let our mounts _play_ together off to the side while we shop?"

Vern stepped back at her brazenness at suggesting such a thing. Glancing at her pony, he was suddenly alert, both in his face and down below, at his Mistress's suggestion, as he leered at Mindy in eager anticipation.

Vern glanced at Mindy, who seemed totally disinterested in the idea. Vern recalled when he had purchased Mindy from some fetish slave auction site years ago that her listing indicated that she had little interest in sexual activity. He had never indulged himself in that way with her. "I don't think so, Ma'am," Vern answered.

"Pity," she said with a shrug. "My Billy never gets to play."

Vern hurried into the store and went through his shopping list quickly. Then, with all the ingredients he would need for a perfect fish dinner, he unhitched Mindy from the hitching rail and headed back home.

Once again, after returning Mindy to her stall, he hosed her down with the hose, and then brushed her mane dry.

As Vern was leaving, Mindy plaintively said, "V-v-vern!"

"Yes, Mindy?"

"Uhm..." she stammered for a moment.

"Yes, what is it girl?"

"You've never taken me--as a girl, I mean."

"You're my pony," he laughed. "I got me plenty of gals." He turned to leave.

"Wait!"

"What?"

"I get..."

"What, girl?"

"...horny sometimes."

"Oh?" Vern asked.

"Not a lot. But sometimes."

"You're saying you wanted to play with that pony boy back at the store?" Vern asked.

"Oh, God no! Thank you for not giving me to him!"

"Then what?" Vern asked.

"You, Vern! Don't you ever want to use me like that? Once in a while, anyway?"

Vern shrugged. "Not really," he said and turned to leave again.

"Please, Vern!" she cried.

Vern sighed. "Lie down on your back, girl," he said.

Vern removed his clothes and stepped barefoot across the straw in Mindy's stall to her.

"Damn!" Vern gasped. "This floor is damn cold in bare feet! It's damn cold to be standing in here in this barn, buck nekkid!"

"I know, Vern," Mindy said.

Vern reached up and turned the knob on the gas heater up to 75 degrees.

Then he lay on the floor next to Mindy. Brushing the straw aside, he lay upon her and pushed his legs between hers. But first, he began to kiss and caress her. With her arms buckled behind her back underneath her, she couldn't reciprocate, but her mouth took his eagerly.

A few moments later, he crawled down her body and began sucking on her nipples, first one then the other, getting them hard and wet. Then he crawled down between her legs and began to lick her most private part. Thoughts of bestiality ran through his mind, even though Mindy was a real human girl.

Vern was pretty good at this oral stuff, and he sucked her clit into his mouth with all the might of his breath. Her feminine juices trickled into his mouth as he held her clit deep in his mouth and fondled it with the tip of his tongue. Soon after, she began bucking wildly to his oral manipulations. No doubt, she was on a hair trigger after having lived in total abstinence for years now.

He crawled up and rested himself upon her with his legs between hers again. At that, he thrust down, sliding his hard member into her soaking pussy. She squeezed him tightly ad he slid in and out, letting his own orgasm build slowly. After barely a minute, the pressure suddenly built in his loins and exploded out the tip of his cock deep inside Mindy.

After countless quivers and moans, he had emptied himself into her and lay upon her in a pleasant afterglow.

"That what you wanted, girl?" he asked.

"Yes, Vern! Sex may not be that important to me, but I _do_ need it once in a while. Okay?"

"Of course, Mindy. I'll remember that." He kissed her one last time and stood off her. Helping her to stand, he kissed her again then went to put his clothes back on.

Returning to his house, he had a fish dinner to prepare.