The sun came up too soon, again, and I rolled off my bed, washed, and went out to the yard. This, I imagined, was how farmers lived. Well, it wasn’t any worse than standing dog watch aboard ship.

It was just before 6, so I would be doing the early morning chores with my ponies. They were fast asleep, turned on their hips, free hands back to cupping a breast, and their lips just touching. When I murmured ‘good morning, pony’ they came slowly awake, focused on the other, exchanged another kiss, and rolled supine still clutching their ‘toys’. Nipples were then pinched playfully; they got more lively, and mouthed ‘good morning master’ silently at me. I lifted them up, did toilet duty, and was just getting ready to exchange their sarongs for training harness and beadies when Jappala came into the yard with Joanne on a lead.

"Good morning, Jappala, please get these two in #1s and a bit, then feed them. I need to talk to my newest addition."

I led Joanne off to the side, told her how pleased I was that she had joined my team, gave her a severe talking-down about having expressed an opinion about the matter, stressed that it was the last opinion she’d ever express - or even have - while in my service, and then ran through the basics. She already knew most of these including acting and speaking as one individual. Then I told her about the other two’s acceptance of my mild jiggling and such, and (adopting as serious an expression as I could manage) explained that this had to be unanimous, and since when she was attached to her team she’d be unable to answer ‘individually’, she had this chance to say ‘no way’. Were ‘jiggling’ and other minor gestures of my affection all right with her? A beam, and fast ‘yes-master’, took care of that. Well, of course it was all right, I was taking fearful advantage of the poor love-struck young thing. Then I stressed the requirement for continued residence here in the stables, no visits home, and no being apart from her team. Then, my determination to win the rights to jeweled slippers, and what hard work that would entail. Finally, my calm statement that from now on she would have no input to her training, she would jolly well do exactly as she was told and no hesitation or backtalk. Her little sister’s merest whim was now iron-clad law for her. Grooming days were over, it was pony time now. I didn’t ask if there were any questions, just led her back to where Suhanee and Judy were waiting.

"Now we can really get some training done. Jappala, unfasten the two halves of my pony and stick this new unit in between them." The girl was quite good at unfastening and re-fastening, and appeared to have just as much zeal for tight fittings as her sister had previously demonstrated. In quick time I had a troika bound and ready. They had on identical leather, identical beadies, and identical bridles and bits. It was a striking trio, the two sets of long, dark radiant hair flanking the shorter blonde fall in the middle. Joanne was a bit shorter than the other two, not by much. Their hips were exactly the same height, so her torso was slightly shorter. Her breasts were smaller, but still stood up proudly. They stood braced, arched almost identically. A few commands to Jappala got them aligned exactly, and I let them simmer that way for a while. Then it was high-action trot practice, and this took an hour before everyone learned the new steps. Training with a groom was much faster, I could worry about how they looked and acted while Jappala carried out corrections. I told her to use a quirt for emphasis, and soon my three-part pony was jumping and twitching every time someone got even a bit out of line. Jappala was quite the little dominatrix.

At last I was satisfied. Then I went to back them into the cart, only to discover that I had to go find different parts.

Once I found the parts Jappala and I got the team hitched. I grumbled to myself while hooking them up, there were too many parts and too much weight in this setup. There had to be an easier way...

Hitched and hobbled, my team was ready for me, and them, to learn what three people pulling at once is like. Two hours later I knew, and they knew, that it is at least three times as hard as two people pulling. I began to realize that Malua’s years of training and experience were what made it look so easy when she drove. I kept giving poor Joanne neck signals meant for one of the outside ponies, and I hadn’t the knack yet of a simultaneous ‘push’ to the outside pony and a ‘slow/turn’ to the inside one. But we got better; it was clearly something within our abilities. Whether we could get better enough in the two and a half weeks remaining...

Jappala and I fed them lunch, which took two of us since three mouths had to have identical bits of food popped in at just the same time. I talked about the problems, confessed my sins, and pled for continued tolerance.

"Don’t ever do what you know is right, don’t think, just do what I signal no matter how wrong it is. It’s the only way we’ll get better; if one of you acts on her own the single ‘pony’ we’re trying to create won’t react smoothly. Now, Jappala, take its bits out. Pony, do you have anything to say?" This was the first time all three had spoken together, so it was more ragged than with just two. Joanne had to look first one way, then the other, then lean back so Suhanee and Judy could get together. Finally, (pauses and restarts edited out):

"Master, I am twitchy because I haven’t run fast in three days."

"That’s all right, you’re going to have to stay twitchy until we get very good at doing things slowly. Then we’ll work up. You won’t lose your speed with a few more days off. Now I’m going to break my own rules, you can split into three talking heads and speak individually. Just for a minute. Each head tell me what I should be doing better to guide it." They each voiced particular things they’d noticed, all helpful. They also wanted their harnesses adjusted for better pulling and turning, which Jappala did.

In the afternoon we continued basic driving, and improved a lot. We weren’t any good yet, but we weren’t terrible. Jappala went home after cleaning and rubbing the ponies, so I got Malua go come out and help me feed them, then I stood them up. "You need to practice simultaneous speech, and get to know each other." I then joined Suhanee and Judy at wrist, ankle and knee. That made a compact triangular column out of my ponies, all facing in, crowded close together. I ran a strap around their hips and hauled in, compacting them further, and finally removed their bits. "There, you can concentrate on your two mates, get the feel of each other, and talk. Talk all three together, not separately. I’ll be back later to hear you recite, then tuck you in."

Malua and I spent some time strolling in the town, then we returned to hear my columnar trio sound off together on several little speeches they had perfected. Unhooked, then re-bitted, to the privy, and finally ready to lie down at the end of a very long day. We had to experiment a bit with their laying down. It was difficult for three linked ponies to get down at once, and if they lay side-by-side as Suhanee and Judy had done there wasn’t room on my lap. When I got Suhanee’s head right in my crotch - her shoulder on my hip - and had them spread their legs so Judy was at about a 45 degree angle, it worked. Malua sat by my side and we just talked, the ponies looking up with their bits in, then I told them some of my sea-going stories, then Malua sang a few songs, and the exhausted dears drifted off. It was all very platonic. Nobody jiggled anything, Malua and I just traded little kisses. I felt very much the man of some house, wife on arm, three ‘daughters’ in my lap. But these shapely things aroused me in ways no daughter would have, Suhanee had to know exactly what I was feeling. Would their ability to excite me diminish as I got to know them well?

"Malua, my dear, I need your advice on something no sane man would ever ask a woman in the OW. Suhanee and Judy have an effect on me, as you know. Maybe even Joanne will. Is that common, and if it is, does it go away as we train and drive around? Will they lose that aura of sexuality that makes pony driving so exciting?"

"How should I know? I don’t find them exciting. Shapely and cute, but certainly not exciting. Not the way you mean."

"I didn’t mean if you did, I just wonder what happens to other, ah.. male drivers. Do you know?"

"Only that it’s very hard to predict ‘males’. I think you just have to wait and find out. Maybe I’d better not let you get to ‘know’ me too well if that’s what happens to you OW men."

"Hmm. Point taken, I promise to maintain an active interest in all women I get to know well." That almost got me a hit, island women may accept polygamous marriages but they’re still women at heart. Smiling and continuing our sparring, we eased out from the pony and went back to the house. It was early, and I was not calmed down. Malua was looking sparkly too. We went to her bedroom. I whispered words into her ear, kissed, fondled, whispered more, and felt that things were looking pretty good for further developments.

I reached for her sarong tie, but she put her hand on mine, not moving it away, just gently stilling me before I could start on the knot. I kissed her again, and she responded fervently.

"You don’t want us to go further? I thought..."

"I want us to go further very much, Jim. But there are complications."

"Your time of the month?"

"No, nothing like that."

"Island custom? Unmarried people don’t do this?"

"No, we don’t have any customs like that."

"Dash it, Malua, then what? You aren’t the kind who only likes other women. You like me. We’re alone, we don’t have to ‘go all the way’, I just want to, well..." She sighed, a long, deep exhale, then drew in another breath. I could feel the tension in her.

"You are going to have a hard time with this, Jim. I have a hard time with it myself. It’s difficult to talk about, even here where we talk freely about so many things that OW people seem to supress. Please just listen to me, let me explain, then we can talk about it. Is that all right?" The magic had just gone out of this evening, something serious was up.

"Yes, of course. I can’t imagine what this is, but whatever it is won’t make any difference to me."

"Don’t promise until you know. All right. I don’t mind at all if you touch me there, intimately. I want you to because you want to. But you aren’t going to get the results you expect, you aren’t going to excite me and make me get all wet and wild. There’s nothing wrong with me, I’m perfectly normal. But I’m spoiled. Spoiled for men, that is. Jim, I am addicted. Addicted to something else." I’d promised not to say anything, a good thing because I had no idea what Malua was driving at. ‘Spoiled’? ‘Addicted’? What the devil was she talking about? I waited.

"Years ago my second owner became dissatisfied with our - my team’s - attitude. He felt that we weren’t lively enough, that we didn’t prance and sparkle well. There’s a special harness that makes ponies sparkle - and quiver and shimmy. He had us wear it. We sparkled, all right! Our owner was so pleased with the results that he had us wear that harness a lot. More than we should have, or than I should have anyway. The harness is cleverly designed to stimulate a girl. Sexually stimulate her. It gets her very, very excited. It’s ‘just’ physical, but the sensations are so intense that she can lose track of anything else, become completely absorbed in her feelings. After a while I started needing the feelings that harness caused. I got dependent on it, even when I wasn’t being a pony. And I still am. Oh, Jim, I’ve tried doing without it, tried having sex with men, but I always have to go back to my harness." We sat. I thought she had more to say, so I didn’t say anything.

"So that’s what’s ‘wrong’ with me. It’s partly why I haven’t married - oh, it’s true enough that I hadn’t met anyone I really liked until you showed up, I wasn’t fooling you when you first asked me that. But men want to have intercourse, where both partners are satisfied, and I haven’t ever been able to do that. I like being fondled, but I disappoint my partner - they can’t arouse me. There, that’s it. You’ll probably lose interest in me now, but it’s the way I am and I don’t seem to be able to do anything about it." Her eyes were wet now, and she was making little hiccuping noises. I hugged her tight for a while, trying to think what to say.

"Malua, what you’ve just told me is so outside anything I know about that I don’t understand at all. But you’ll tell me more, and I will eventually figure it out on my terms. Please understand this, I love you. Loving someone means that their happiness is more important than one’s own happiness. If you are happy with this harness thing, that’s fine. I’m happy with you, so let’s have no more talk of losing interest. You’re the most interesting person I’ve ever known. And certainly the most stimulating. I may not excite you, but baby you sure can do a number on me."

"Oh, Jim!" She burst into tears, so I just continued holding her. Blasted waterworks get the best of a man every time, never fails. Eventually she calmed down, and I didn’t press further. I was curious about what this harness thing could be, but it certainly wasn’t the time to bring that up.

"Do you want me to tell you more?" Well, maybe it was time.

"Whatever you want, dear. Yes, I’d like to know about this competitor of mine, but only when you feel like talking about it." Malua got up, went to a chest in the corner, and pulled out a collection of straps. It looked much like the other complicated harnesses I had seen, nothing special.

"Help me on with it, please dear. You have to see it in action to appreciate what it does." At last I got to untie that sarong. I’d seen Suhanee, Judy, and a host of other ponies as nearly naked as can be, but Malua’s charms from low on her hips to her knees had remained obscured until now. They were charming charms, a cute bottom and a crotch with just a tiny tuft of pubic hair in the middle. Malua held up the harness but took no other action.

"You have to do it all. Part of the way it works is that I have to be helpless, unable to resist it, bound tightly, ‘involuntarily’. Start with the waist belt." I wrapped the wide leather belt around her trim waist, trying hard not to get distracted by all the bare flesh. It had four buckles up the back.

"How tight, Malua?"

"As tight as you can, it’s about two inches smaller than I am, there." I worked from bottom to top, pulling the straps of each buckle in a notch, then starting over. When I had taken in two notches on each buckle Malua was sharply indented at the waist, and bulged over the top and bottom of the belt. Straps hung down, out and up from it, this was more complicated than the pony harnesses I was used to.

"Whew. That’s tight. I must be getting fat. Is there a notch left in the buckles?"

"Yes, one hole each."

"When I started with this, the waist belt could close completely. That’s what I get for not running as much. Well. Now there’s another wide strap that goes over my shoulders and across the top of my chest." I found that, got it over her head, and saw that it was meant to be buckled to a center and two side straps in front from the waist belt. When I tightened those Malua had a belt across her chest just over her breasts. There were straps left over.

"Those go under my breasts and squeeze them a bit." That was a most agreeable task, and I took my time to get the straps exactly right, lifting and positioning her now-jutting mammaries and then tightening straps until they were under a bit of tension, distending her nipples. The chest strap had wire extensions with tassels, and strapped up as Malua was these tassels were brushing the tops of her breasts.

"Those get adjusted so they rub on my nipples. But before you do, secure my arms behind. There’s a strap in back that goes over my upper arms. Tighten it until my elbows meet."

"What about your wrists?"

"Later." I found the arm strap by elimination, and pulled her arms back behind her, put the strap about half-way up her upper arms, and took in the two buckles on it until her shoulders were pulled back and her elbows were a just a few inches apart.

"My elbows aren’t meeting, yet."

"Are you sure? I mean, you’re pretty well braced back now..." She just stood there, so I grabbed the straps and advanced each buckle until her elbows did meet. Her arms went down her arched back, with her hands below her bottom. Her shoulder blades looked welded together, and her chest stuck way out now.

"Now, do the tassels." I did the tassels. The wire supports could be bent, so I bent them until the tassels were brushing the tops of her nipples, then a bit higher per Malua’s instructions. I noticed that the tassels meant business, they ended in little heavy, multi-pointed gold beads and whenever Malua breathed the motion of her chest strap made the tassels dance across her now-erect nipples. That looked all very stimulating, but I didn’t see how it would render a girl immune to all the pleasures of the flesh. I hadn’t seen anything, yet.

"There’s a strap for each thigh. My wrists get fastened to them." I did that. Straps on each thigh, my head right next to her bottom. Nice work if you can get it. Then I fastened wide parts of two straps from the thigh straps around her wrists, and buckled them in tight. It made her back arch more and immobilized her wrists.

"Now I get held up. See the rope over the rafter? It ties to the long strap that comes off my waist belt on each side. Then pull on the rope so just a little of my weight’s on it. That way I can’t lie down to make it stop." The strap she referred to was attached to a buckle on the side of her waist belt. It had a ring half way along. With the other end buckled to the other side of her waist, the strap came up her back and the ring was level with the back of her head. I tied the line through it and pulled up.

"Fasten the bar between my ankles. It holds my legs apart." The bar in question was on the floor, straps at each end went around her ankles, and with her feet spread a good yard apart more of her weight was supported by the line. The heels of her sandals were now just off the floor, she was balanced on her tip-toes. She was also most piquantly posed, pelvis thrust forward by her strapped-down wrists, legs spread. She was the very picture of wantonly-exposed helpless-captive womanhood.

"Two straps come down in back. They go under me, up in front, and attach to the waist belt. Jim, you have to position them in my crotch so I’m spread, so I’m completely exposed. They should run right over my lips, there. And they have to be really tight, or I’ll slip out from under them when I move." Well. Now we were getting down to business. Wanting to make a good job of it, I got down on my knees right in front of her, eye level with my target. There were the two straps, back between her legs. And there was what all the fuss was about. Cute. I reached back for a strap, brought it up in front and loosely buckled it to her waist. Then the other one. Then I took up some slack, and... and...

"Ninny. You have to be firm, pull me apart and get the straps so they hold me apart. Show no mercy." I gulped and started fiddling.

"Oh, pish. Men are always so interested in that place, but give them a real job to do with it and they become all thumbs, just hopeless. Peel a lip back with your thumb, Jim, and run the strap over it. Then keep tension on the strap while you tighten it." I did that, and repeated on the other side. Malua was ‘spread out’ alright. But she gave a little twitch and popped herself out from under the strap.

"Try again. Really tight, so when I move I stay spread." A challenge! Sailors know how to get rigging tight, so I did. I really hauled on those straps, they made deep indentations in her taut tummy and squeezed her underneath until her lips were puffing out on each side of the narrow bands that held them open.

"Oh. I don’t think I’ll be slipping out now. Oh, my. Ah. Ohhh."

"Too tight, dear?"

"Nooo. Not toooo t-tight. N-not for aaaaa oh. Little while, aaaany way." Malua’s speech was starting to slur a bit, and her breathing was irregular.

"Are you all right, Malua?"

"I’m. I’m. I’m f-fine. Jim. Y-you have to, to, oh me, you have to put the d-darned g-gourd on now. Itsss in the ch, ch..."

"Chest? I’ll get it." Malua was in the grip of something, here, but I couldn’t see what. Why should strapping her lower lips down like that send her off? I glanced down at her still-spread crotch, and saw slickness. I ran a finger quickly over the straps and brought it out, glistening. Malua was thoroughly aroused, very wet, and ready for action. But not, it seemed, with me, she wanted/feared some gourd thing. I went to the chest. The object was obvious, a small heavy gourd mounted on a short bar, the bar bent around a U-shaped frame. The bar and frame were heavy, yellow gold. The gourd was quite rough to the touch. I went back to Malua, who was now pulsing gently, her abs contracting and the little tassles brushing away over her nipples. Where the gourd went was pretty clear - small straps on the straps coming up out of her crotch seemed ready-made to attach the U-shape frame to.

Without further instructions - Malua was making small noises in the back of her throat but not noticing too much what I was up to - I got the gourd positioned low on her abdomen. Everything seemed designed to let the gourd swing freely in front of Malua, and to come into direct contact with her spread pussy at the end of each swing. As I fussed with it, it hit my knuckles, and it felt strange. A hit, then a distinct vibration, a humming that was easily felt on my fingers. It tickled. Ah ha. I knew right where it should go. Some fine positioning and I got the gourd to swing back and smack Malua right on her clit. The result was electric, and I’m understating. Malua looked and acted like someone in the grip of a strange, alien power. She stood/hung, curved back and helpless to do anything but pulse her hips. Her breasts jutted out to meet the swishing tassels, she couldn’t hunch her shoulders to retract them. Whenever she moved at all, the tassels brushed and then the gourd swung. Every time the gourd made contact, her tummy contracted with a jerk, which made it swing more. There was nothing she could do to stop her stimulation - legs spread, strung up so even if she passed out it would continue, inexorably. I watched her try, holding herself rigidly to get her stimulation to stop - so she could say something, I think - but she couldn’t. The stimulation was relentless, continuous, and apparently overwhelming. I watched, entranced. I had never seen a woman like this, locked in a world of intense sensation. Well, maybe I had, but not at a time when I was paying attention. And certainly not for this long. How long was it supposed to go on? Malua couldn’t tell me, so I waited while she twitched and writhed in the harness for another ten minutes. A steady series of moans came from her, her eyes were staring but not seeing anything, I couldn’t tell whether this was pleasure or pain. I reached out and stilled the gourd, then bent the tassels up so they weren’t touching her. Her body kept right on twitching; she didn’t slow down for a goodly while. When she finally did, I unhitched her from the ceiling, undid her arms and wrists so she could sit, and put her on my lap. Legs still wide-spread. Finally, through some sobs, she could talk again. The first thing she said was:

"Straps. Too tight..." I quickly loosened the straps leading up from her crotch.

"T-thanks. Whooo. You stopped me just before I fainted. Whoooo. Oh, Jim..."

"Well, at least now I know what you’re talking about. That is the most devilish contraption. I’m sorry if I had it too tight, are you hurt?"

"Not a b-bit. Sore. But n-not hurt at all. Overloaded, though. I can’t think straight. Oh, my."

"That was special?"

"You were special. Something about you putting it on me, you making me helpless, you doing up all the straps so tightly, and then... then you standing there, watching as it worked on me, watching me jerk and froth. Oh, Jim, it’s never been like that before, not so, I don’t know how to describe it. But it was special. Thank you. Oh, I’ll be useless all day tomorrow, just dreamy-eyed and I’ll let the monkeys get away with all kinds of foolishness. But just look, I’m talking about me, it’s you we should be talking about. Now I need to do something for you. Shall I..."

"Malua, what would happen to you if I strapped you up again with the gourd?" She looked at me, very wide-eyed.

"I don’t know, Jim. I suppose I’d go into ecstasy again. Are you going to?"

"I am. But first I’m getting a chair to stand on, unless that works while you kneel. Can you be trusted not to bite while you’re locked in the embrace of that fiendish gadget?"

"Oh, my. Oh, Jim dear. Yes, I can kneel. But I might do something really bad. Get a ring-bit out of the chest. It’s an O with straps. Oh, Jim." I went to the chest again, and found a device made of a gold O with a groove on the outside, and some straps. Bringing it back to the still-strapped Malua I was able to figure out how it went, and soon had a fiancée with a gaping-open mouth filled by the gold ring, her teeth safely in the groove around it, straps holding it firmly in place. Malua was now ready for anything I chose to put in her mouth, helpless to do anything about that. I stood her up, re-fastened her wrists, bent the tassels down, and after a long look at her slightly-pleading eyes tightened the crotch straps, making sure she was well-spread below. Then the dread gourd was secured, but I held it to stop it from stroking her after testing the swing a few times. Next I eased her to her knees, and then let the gourd swing. In a few minutes Malua was right back in her state, the gourd and tassels occupying her fully. I stood in front and held her head, then introduced my prize snake to the ring. Her tongue came out and licked, tickling, and I pushed in. It was a strange feeling, the O was just a bit small for me, no teeth or lips, just an open, inviting mouth and tongue flicking at the bottom of my peter. She leaned forward so she could put her head back, and all of me disappeared into her. Her throat clamped down tightly on me, and worked as she swallowed. At the same time she didn’t stop moving, and I could feel the vibrations of the gourd all the way up at her head. She pulled back to breathe, and then lost herself for a bit while I just stroked slightly in her mouth, then she took a deep breath and I was engulfed again, and she didn’t get any more air until goodness knows how long but I was all done. I pulled out, and stood my helpless human doll up, and watched as she kept right on with her own thing. She had paid plenty of attention to me, all I could handle, but a large part of her was still off somewhere else with her own sensations. I wouldn’t agree with her assessment that she was ‘spoiled’, but she definitely needed more than I could offer. However, it certainly looked as though we could reach mutually agreeable compromises. The future was bright indeed.

Malua had no idea about the future or past. She was living entirely in the present. I had no idea how long she could go on this way so I just let things happen, and after a bit a long wail came out of her ringed mouth and she slumped to the floor. She recovered as I was loosening the harness, and after some time was able to sit on my lap again. Very gingerly.

"So now you know about my addiction."

"Yes, and I don’t think it makes a whit of difference. As we just showed. We can still make children, and I can strap you up whenever you feel the need, and I won’t mind at all that it’s such a better lover than I. Well, hardly at all. You are ever so much fun to watch, you know. I almost short-circuited while it was going on." She made a moue.

"That would have been a waste. No short-skirting, whatever that means, while I’m available, if you please."

"Short-circuit. It has to do with electricity, which is another thing you get along fine without. I promise not to short-circuit at all, I gave up doing that when I was a lad. Malua, who strapped you up like this, before now?"

"Jacqui and Maggie. You haven’t met them, they live in the other town now. We get together and do this, get all calmed down again, every so often. Oh, I’ll have to tell them not to expect me this week... Unless you want to come along and do all of us?" She gave me a look of pure devilment, pretend innocence, and ‘I hope not’, all in one.

"I am at your service, m’dear, anything for your contentment."

"I’ll see what is to do. Oh, Jim, you made it so much more exciting. You wouldn’t mind...?"

"Believe me. I wouldn’t mind in the slightest, providing they are half as good-looking as you." That earned me a hit, and I was left puzzled over whether she had meant any of it. Women.

"How long can you stay in that harness? Did you have to pull carts around with it on? That seems embarassing even with your relaxed culture, to be prancing in public and having an orgasm at the same time. Or does it actually make you come? You looked like it. Why does it work, just bonking on you, don’t women want to have an ‘emotional’ part of sex? Do a lot of ponies have to wear them? What’s the gourd made of to vibrate that way? Do you resent that owner who made you wear it?"

"Jim, Jim. I forgot half of what you asked. I see my fears were silly, you’re really interested in this, aren’t you? Let’s see. Yes, I have orgasms. Continually, which is something men don’t seem able to do. Which is partly why I’m addicted, I suppose. I come for a long time. And yes, being that way in public, or nearly that way, is what puts more ‘sparkle’ and ‘twinkle’ in a pony’s eyes and gate. It’s not as intense as what I was just doing, but it does spark a gal up. Ah, the gourd is just one that grows that way, it’s got some kind of stalk inside that vibrates when it’s hit. It’s called ‘maiden’s delight’, I can’t imagine why. And what else? Oh, yes, no, I don’t ‘resent’ my owner doing it to me. Ponies don’t ‘resent’ things. Am I, Malua, sorry for it? Hm. It’s made my life more complicated, and I was sure that it was going to mean I wouldn’t get you, but it is a pleasure that I don’t wish to give up. So no, I’m not sorry, especially now. And other ponies, you asked about that. Well, most ponies are plenty spirited as it is. Island people tend to like sex ‘straight’, not from gadgets; it isn’t quite ‘nice’ to do what I do. Nobody minds, but it isn’t discussed. I think men would like to outlaw this harness completely, because it can spoil a girl for them. But we don’t make laws about things unless it’s really really important, and sex just isn’t. No, overall not many ponies wear these. Girls don’t seek this harness out otherwise, and harnesses are just for ponies. So unless one’s put on her, a girl doesn’t get the chance to become addicted. Oh, Jim, are you sure you don’t mind me being like this? I was sooo worried."

"Malua, the next time you ask me if I mind your innocent little pleasures with that gadget, I’ll lock you up in it. For a week. And bring people in to watch as you squirm."

"Ooooh. Really, a whole week? Promise?"

"Cross my heart." I was developing a real taste for strapping up these lovely creatures, and strapping up Malua promised to be the most fun of all.

Our session had lasting effects. Malua walked a bit stiffly the next day, with minimal hip sway, and was, as she’d said she would be, nearly worthless at disciplining her team. She claimed that they knew right away she’d done something pretty extreme, and deviled her about it.

It gave me a lot to think about. Did I resent that Malua got more pleasure from that thing than from me? I really didn’t think so. I was (and still am) deeply in love with her, and wanted her to be happy. It should have wounded my ‘male pride’, but it didn’t. It was just the way she was. And even as manly as I was, I knew I couldn’t keep her going for hours. My other thoughts were about whether my team should be so equipped. Here I saw why Malua thought men wanted to outlaw the harness. I was just about as strongly attracted to Suhanee as to Malua, and wasn’t at all sure I wanted her hooked on the damned thing as well. Besides, the three of them still had a lot of pep and ‘twinkle’. That was my problem - too much twinkle!

The last thing I thought about disturbed me. I could see how to improve Malua’s harness. It could be made better, even more stimulating. I filed that away, it was too early going to nurse my deviant tendencies - controlling the team was quite enough.