I had now recovered enough to be able to take in my surroundings. We were a little way from the paddock standing in a track between two rows of open-sided tents. They looked like market stalls offering various goods for sale. From where I was standing I couldn’t see a lot, but the stall nearest me looked like it was selling leather straps of various widths and colours. One a little further away had boots on display. To my left there was a gap in the tents with three posts set up. Two young ponygirls, no older than twenty, stood in front of two of the posts. They stood erect with their legs quite wide apart. I blushed in sympathetic embarrassment for them, their pose was definitely a notch more humiliating than seemed ‘normal’ for ponygirls. I wondered if they were being punished or something.
The first was almost as tall as me with long dark hair, which was almost black. She had a lovely golden tanned skin with no obvious tan lines. Her breasts stood out proud on her chest and she definitely had more in that department than I did. She stood calmly, almost serenely, obviously enjoying the attention that she was drawing.
The second was a little plumper and more nervous than the other. She quivered a little and kept her gaze fixed on the floor in front of her. I could see that she kept trying to close her legs, but that they were fastened apart. She had short brown hair including a mass of unruly pubic hair. I realised that she was the first ponygirl I’d seen with short hair. Her large soft breasts were squeezed into a tight harness and, like me, her nipples were capped with little bells.
I was embarrassed to find myself admiring her. She was nervous and yet had the confidence and bravery to present herself like this. In a way it made me a bit ashamed at the way I had reacted. If this girl could put up with being dressed as a ponygirl, despite her nerves, then I could too.
I was a little surprised though when Mr. Trune led me the empty post besides the nervous pony. In moments I was fastened to the post with my legs humiliatingly wide apart, a mirror image of the other two ponies.
“There, ‘Novice Row’ is complete.” Mr. Trune said to no-one in particular. Then to me, “now, be a good little filly and stand there calmly. I’m sure you’ll get lots of attention from the members, they always like to examine any new ponies, but I think they’ll want to pay particular notice to you.”
My heart sank when he said that. I’d hoped that my ordeal would be over but it seemed that it was just going to get worse. I was now on display and about to be ‘examined’. What was worse though was that I could feel my pussy clenching with pleasure at the thought and was ashamed to think how my body was reacting to everything that had happened so far today.
Mr. Trune gently patted my thigh, saying “you’ll do”, and then turned and strode away, clearly with somewhere more important to be. He left me alone with my thoughts and I realised that this was the first time I’d had alone since we’d got there. The morning had been a roller coaster ride for me. This morning I could never have imagined that I’d be standing bound and naked, with legs wide apart, waiting to be examined like an animal, or that I’d be extremely aroused by it all, having had my first ever orgasm. Each step that had led me to this moment had seemed logical and acceptable until I had no choice and had to go along with each further humiliation.
I looked down Novice Row at my two companions. I realised that I’d mentally dubbed them ‘nervous pony’ and ‘confident pony’ in lieu of knowing their real names. Then I felt ashamed once more. I was already accepting them as ponygirls rather than real people, I wondered if they thought the same about me. I pondered both girls, they seemed so different. If I’d met them in the street I would never have thought that they had anything in common, but both girls were here like me: naked ponygirls.
As I considered our situation and wondered how the other two girls had come to be here, I could hear the odd announcement over the public address system: for races, training demonstrations, sulky races (whatever they are I thought to myself). We were left alone for an hour or so as the ponygirl meeting carried on around us. In many ways it felt like a little anti-climax. The morning had been non-stop. From the initial shock of discovering the true nature of the club, through the registration process and finally the public training session. I’d felt like I was the centre of attention.
Now though everyone had left me alone. It seemed like I was unimportant, not worth the bother. As the time went by I realised that to them I was just a ponygirl, one amongst many. They would come and attend to me when they wanted, I had no say in the matter, I just had to wait until they came.
Then I heard another announcement and a shiver went down my spine. “That was the last race of the day, but of course there’s plenty to do while the judges look over the ponies and decide on which ones will be awarded today’s prizes. All the stalls are still open and Jeremy Lawson will be giving a demonstration of harness making in the main marquee. Last but not least, we have our three new fillies presented on Novice Row.”
It was only a few moments before people started to walk amongst the tents and stalls and of course they all paused to look at the three of us. I was quivering with fear as the first people approached me. They were a couple, a smartly dressed grey haired man probably in his sixties with a similarly aged lady. They paused directly in front of me and before looking me over they referred to a piece of paper they were carrying.
“Oh marvellous!” she exclaimed, “it says here that she’s a virgin. What a wonderful find.” She had a slight French accent when she spoke. If it was possible, I blushed more than ever before. My most intimate secrets had been printed on an information sheet. As she read further, it became apparent that all of my registration information, and more, had been distributed.
As she continued to read, the gentleman stepped forward and began to look me up and down. Then he reached out and ran his hand up and down my thigh squeezing my flesh. His grip was very firm and fastened as I was there was no way I could escape him.
“Good muscle tone, but clearly needs more training. Definitely has potential.” I was shocked once again at the way I was just being treated like an animal. Here I was a naked woman, my charms on full display to everyone, and this man was commenting on the strength of my thighs.
His hands then moved up to my hips and then waist. “Good, good.”
For some reason though, the perfunctory way that he was examining me was having an effect. I could feel butterflies fluttering in my belly. The clamps on my nipples seemed to get tighter and the strap separating my labia pressed harder against my swollen labia and clitoris.
He was joined by her companion who after performing her own examination also seemed pleased. It was so embarrassing to be treated like that.
These two were followed by others. Each reading the sheet and then spending a few moments to look me over. Some, like the first couple, would examine me, others moved on quickly to the other two girls.
I soon discovered what a pony sulky was though, when a gorgeous black ponygirl pulled one along the track in front of us. The man who was currently examining me said that he’d love to harness me to a sulky and drive me around his farm. Of course I couldn’t say anything and I just blushed once more, which unfortunately he took to be my ascent to his idea. He just laughed and said “yes, you’d enjoy that wouldn’t you,” squeezing my breast in emphasis.
The sulky was being driven by a young black man, and I wondered if he was her boyfriend, and indeed whether ponies had boyfriends or just owners. That though for some reason caused my belly to turn over with the butterflies churning away inside.
All the attention was getting me extremely hot and bothered. I could feel that my inner thighs were wet with my juices. I was soon feeling quite light headed. Hands caressed and stroked and groped me. There were numerous comments about how lovely I was, about how I made such a beautiful filly, that they wanted to see me race. My breasts were held and shaken, the bells tinkling to compound my shame. I found it all so overwhelming. My eyes drifted shut, I just couldn’t handle the sensations.
Hands came and went, calloused, soft, rough and smooth. I was soon once more approaching the amazing feelings that had preceded my earlier orgasm. A skilled pair of hands was teasing me ever closer and closer. I had lost all sense of time and no longer cared where I was or what was happening. I just wanted another of those fantastic orgasms.
However, I was abruptly brought back to the here and now when the female owner of those hands whispered in my ear: “You’re a randy little bugger aren’t you. All hot and wet and ready to go!”
I immediately recognised the voice, even though I’d only heard it once, a few hours ago. It was April, the girl who worked for Mr. Stirling. My eyes shot open and I found the beautiful young brunette standing right in front of me, one of her hands on my left breast the other toying with the wet strap between my legs. Her dark eyes sparkling with pleasure as she manipulated my body. I was extremely embarrassed. Everyone before had been total strangers, well April was a stranger too, but she’d met me when I was fully dressed and she knew Mr. Stirling; I imagined she’d been chatting with Mr. Hanson too.
At that moment, I saw both Mr. Stirling and Mr. Hanson approaching me. April gave my crotch strap one last tug and stepped away before the men saw her touching me. That, together with the intense embarrassment of knowing that Mr. Hanson, my friend and mentor, believed me to be an eager and willing ponygirl, sent me over the edge and another glorious orgasm overwhelmed my body.
I was still groaning into my bit and shaking from the intense pleasure when the men stopped in front of me. My nipple bells jingled quietly only adding to my shame. My head drooped forward but I could still see them looking me over. Mr. Hanson was blushing a deep red as he candidly eyed my nude form. He couldn’t take his eyes off me and I wondered if he’d ever fantasied about me during the time we’d worked together. He seemed both shocked and aroused.
His troubled emotions were a complete contrast to Mr. Stirling. He was calm and completely in control. He wasn’t shocked or surprised, he was used to seeing ponygirls. It was Mr. Stirling who stepped forward first and stroked the back of his hand against my cheek.
“See Andrew, I told you that she was having the time of her life. As I said I’ve seen plenty of young women who have harboured a secret desire to try out as a ponygirl. Isabelle here is just like them all.” As he spoke he reached out and gently caressed the side of my breast, just as I had done to the blonde ponygirl earlier.
“She’s been desperate to do this. You remember how eager she was to accompany you today.” He now reached down behind me and began to stroke his hand across my naked buttocks.
“Why don’t you come a little closer. It’s obvious that she wants you to see her for what she really is: A passionate ponygirl. She doesn’t want to deny her true feelings any longer.” I couldn’t believe what he was saying. Why would he say this to Mr. Hanson?
“That’s right isn’t it Isabelle. You’re loving this, aren’t you?” I was about to shake my head to strongly deny what he was saying when I suddenly felt him grasp the horrid tail that was firmly embedded in my rectum. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. We’re all friends here. You love being a ponygirl.” He emphasised what he was saying with movements of the tail. Each movement was painful and I knew what was needed if I was to avoid even more pain. I nodded my head. Following another little tug I made my nodding more vigorous.
As I nodded I could see a look of relief spread across Mr. Hanson’s face. It was as though a worry had been lifted from mind. I cursed for allowing myself to be so easily manipulated. Mr. Stirling knew how to pull the right strings, literally, to get me to do what he wanted.
Mr. Hanson nervously stepped closer and Mr. Stirling released his grip on my tail. Meanwhile his other hand returned to my breast.
“Ponies love to be touched. Caress her breast, like this,” he stroked the back of his hand against my flesh. Still unsure of himself, Mr. Hanson tentatively reached out and mirrored his actions against my other breast. It sent an involuntary shiver down my spine to be touched like that.
“See how she reacts. A natural filly,” and I blushed again. “But I think there is a more obvious proof.”
Mr. Stirling reached down to my crotch. I dreaded his touch there and what he would find. To my surprise though, instead of feeling my damp labia split by the strap, he actually unbuckled it and gently peeled it away from my sex. I grunted with surprise.
After April’s earlier touch, my pussy was filled with my juices which now flowed freely causing me more intense embarrassment. This was heightened further when his hand reached down to feel my now unrestricted pussy and found that it was soaking. He caressed his rough fingers back and forth a couple of times causing me to grunt into my bit.
“See, she is dripping wet she’s so aroused.” His hand came away glistening. “Touch her and see for yourself,” he goaded Mr. Hanson. My boss, nervous and unsure, hesitated for a moment. He was clearly unsure about whether it was right for him to touch me or not. He’d been brought up to know that one should not touch a woman unless she invites it. Now though he wasn’t sure, Mr. Stirling had just reached out and touched me and the sky hadn’t fallen in.
His eagerness and desire though overcame his nerves. He reached forward and placed his hand gently on my slippery pussy. He softly caressed my most private parts and humiliatingly I couldn’t stop myself thrusting my hips forward to ride his hand. This obviously surprised him and he withdrew his hand quickly.
“She absolutely loves it, doesn’t she,” Mr. Stirling commented as Mr. Hanson looked at his wet hand.
Mr. Stirling reached down once more and began to stroke around my clitoris. Even though I’d only orgasmed a few minutes earlier after April’s caresses, I was immediately back to full arousal. It didn’t take many more strokes to push me over the edge once more into my third ever orgasm. I couldn’t believe how I was reacting to this bizarre day. I rode his hand through my climax. I felt so wanton, so slutty. I was naked in public and coming on the hand of my new boss.
Before I recovered, Mr. Stirling had grabbed the strap and once more buckled it tightly, splitting my pussy. If anything it was tighter than before, but at that moment I didn’t care since I was still riding the waves of pleasures.
“Andrew, I think we should leave her to enjoy the rest of the day. Now that we’ve signed the contract we can go and enjoy the hospitality in the main marquee.”
I was confused. I’d expected to be released but it seemed that they were going to leave me here to be poked and prodded by everyone else.
I knew though that no matter what happened during the rest of the day I could not go to work with Mr. Stirling next week. I’d just completely humiliated myself. I wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye without remembering the way he’d touched me so intimately and driven me to the intense pleasure of an orgasm.
They turned away from me and left me stewing in my own juices as it were.
My mind was a whirr with everything that had and was happening to me. As I’d feared more people came by and I was examined and scrutinised by them all. I supposed I was relieved that no-one else unfastened my crotch strap, but quite a few did reach between my legs. They would caress and pull on my labia stretching them either side of the cruel strap. To my shame each of them found me soaking wet and most commented on it. My breasts were squeezed and weighed. They aren’t very large but they still received quite a mauling over that hour or so, always accompanied by the tinkling of the wicked little chimes attached to my constantly hard nipples.
However, it seemed that my feminine assets weren’t the only thing that my tormentors were interested in. As well as commenting on how aroused I was, they all felt my legs. They tested the muscle tone in my thigh and calves. If anything this examination was more embarrassing that the overt sexual touches. It showed me that they were interested in me as a ponygirl instead of as an attractive young woman. They were checking out my body with a view to whether I’d be a good racing pony or have the endurance to pull a pony sulky. They made no secret of the purpose of their examination.
“She has good bone structure and the muscles seem good and strong,” one commented. “She needs some good hard training though before she’ll be a competitive racing pony,” his companion added. “Yes, but I think she’s got the potential.”
A pair of women, probably both in their late forties, had me untied from my splayed position by a young groom. They had me walk back and forth a few times, the taller one using a riding crop to correct me whenever I didn’t perform to their exacting standards.
“Well Melissa, this filly seems to have some capability for a novice. I would like to see how she pulls a sulky, but I expect that she’ll be fine.”
Melissa responded, “Hmm, I don’t know if she’ll be strong enough or have enough endurance for more than a couple of laps of the circuit. Now, this one,” she indicated my nervous fellow novice, “looks like she could pull a sulky for a few hours.”
With that I was repositioned and bound while the groom put the ‘nervous pony’ through some paces, much to the enjoyment of the two ladies.
The flow of people eventually began to die down as people drifted off and preparations were clearly being made for the awards ceremony that had been mentioned. I hoped that my ordeal would now be over.
Indeed ‘confident pony’, who’d clearly enjoyed the attention she’d received, was unfastened and led away by a young man not much older than she was, again I wondered: boyfriend or owner?