A Pony Tale - Part 4

Author: Pony Girl, Copyright (c)2000 Pony Girl, UK.

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.

You are responsible for any copies you make. By downloading this work you agree to indemnify the author and any of her agents regarding any action howsoever arising from misuse either deliberate or otherwise while this work is in your possession. You also agree to use all reasonable precautions to prevent minors or unauthorised persons accessing the work. You are granted the right to download, copy and print the work for your personal use only. You may copy the contents to bulletin boards, newsgroups and similar fora provided this copyright notice is included with the copy and the work is complete and unmodified in any way. The author would, however, appreciate an email informing her where you have posted this. (See signature) Under no circumstances may you use the work or parts thereof for any form of trade or commercial gain whatsoever even under 'fair use'. Pony.assm@ranch.demon.co.uk

Chapter 19 - Disobedience and punishment

He roughly kicked her legs apart and in until she stood just outside the metal legs of the bench. He attached her ankles to these with Velcro straps. 'Bend over!' he snapped. She draped herself over the block and he shoved her hard against the end then used more Velcro straps to attach her wrists to the front legs of the bench. The additional pressure on her belly made the butt plug rise from her slightly and the dildo shift uncomfortably. Considering her available position and Peter's recent predilection to penetrating her from the rear, she considered that receiving a good fucking was a fine price to pay for her disobedience. Instead, he started one of his lectures. 'You didn't make a mistake and speak. You wilfully disobeyed me despite my stressing the importance of your silence. I thought we had an understanding?' She silently played along and batted her eyes lids at him a few times. 'I also told you about eye contact, that's six.' He went on, 'I expect you think what you've received so far has been painful, but this will hurt a great deal more. If you truly want to be a pony you will take this without a word and show me you agree. No red ball this time. Tell me to stop and that's it. End of punishment. End of pony-play for good, Finito. Capice?.' She gulped and started to cry. She had not realised quite how important this, and hence she, was to him. She longed to hug him and beg forgiveness but had to suffice with blinking back her tears as she gazed down at his feet. He left the room. 'Oh shit' she thought to herself. 'Well done girl, you've just blown another one.' She choked back a sob and her mood lightened when he returned a couple of minutes later. He had removed his shirt and held a whippy cane like the type one reads of in Dickensian schools. She looked up and down his muscled body. For a guy in his late thirties in a sedentary job he kept himself in pretty good shape she thought eyeing the flat stomach and the start of the hairy trail she loved to follow down with her tongue. Her attention turned to the cane. Corporal punishment had long been banned at her school when she went there and she had no experience of the cane, but felt it couldn't be that much worse than the crop so she tensed herself to receive her punishment. It was the vicious sound of the noise as the cane hissed though the air that made her revise her assessment of just how much different this was. The pain seemed to start simultaneously across both buttocks as a dull thump, like being punched. It immediately tore into her like dozens of red-hot knives until it reached the very pit of her stomach and caused waves of nausea to flood over her. She gasped and clenched her fists as the burning waves bounced back and forth. 'Oh God!' she silently screamed. She'd never felt anything like that before and the tears ran down her face. 'One' he simply stated then braced himself to deliver the next blow. He lined the cane up just above the previous target and Lucinda felt the plug shift inside her adding to her feeling of nausea. The second blow exploded in her mind as a dark red bloom and she felt her bowels spasm as the plug transmitted the force to her organs. The third was on the base of the dildo and across the tops of her thighs. This time her cervix received the transferred force and she gagged and tasted bile in her mouth. She coughed it out as her thighs seared. Peter leant and whispered in her ear, 'Stop?' he enquired. She slowly shook her head and felt her mind start to escape to the haven of her inner space. He kicked her knees closer to the bench such that her sex thrust out and he rubbed the cane over the part of the strap that separated the top of her labia and covered her clitoris. She felt rivulets of perspiration run down her upper arms and from her face in anticipation of what this would do to her most delicate part. She just hoped the strap would deaden the impact somewhat. The blow sent a shaft of pain through her abdomen that swelled into a dull ball of pain then mushroomed up to her breasts and nipples before it suffused her entire body with a warm glow that made it impossible to distinguish whether it was pain or pleasure. It was like the pegs multiplied ten fold. On the fifth blow, her body dissolved into hundreds of tiny spasms that sparked and chased each other like an electric discharge with no identifiable source. It was similar to the prior feelings she had with her nipple only stimulated orgasms. She was acutely aware now of the twin intruders penetrating her and, gripping the bench with her hands and thighs, instinctively started to hump the foam block as she both moaned and sobbed uncontrollably. Tears, sweat, gel, mucus and vaginal secretions ran from her as the last blow took her over the edge into a 'soft' climax that made her tremble and shudder with her conscious mind curiously detached as it observed her reactions.

The reality of the physical abuse brought her back to a melee of fiery knives a bone numbing aches. Exhausted, she lay panting with her cheek in a pool of saliva and mucus. Peter stroked her cheek. 'You may speak. Are you alright?' She nodded slowly, unable to speak. He released the straps and massaged her shoulders and arms that just hung limply. He carefully turned her face to him and, ignoring her state, kissed her on the mouth and sought her tongue. The familiar affectionate probing brought her round and she half rolled over and hugged him as she returned his kiss with passion. 'I love you' he whispered softly and stroked her hair. She paused a while, 'I know,' she smiled. Without another word between them, he helped her to part stand and lean groggily on the bench before leading to the centre spot where he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again as he held her tight. She could feel the heat of his chest against her still aroused nipples and the straining of his penis at her belly. She ran her gloved fingers through his hair then kissed his neck. 'I came' she said. 'Huh?' he grunted. 'I'm not absolutely sure, but I think I climaxed.' 'I know,' he smiled, 'That was the idea.' She moved her head back and held his face. 'You knew?' He nodded. 'You have to experience it to understand that pain and pleasure are simply our mind's interpretation of the almost same thing. It's just that we generally take over-stimulus the wrong way.' She just stared at him. 'What?' he asked. 'But you do love me?' He hugged her again, laughing. 'Yes, I do love you.' 'That's good then because, despite feeling like my bum is being boiled like a lobster, I love you too,' she grinned and added, 'Master'. She pawed the ground and, pointing at the bridle, opened her mouth and gawped. 'In a moment,' he replied, 'let's get you cleaned up... a bit.' She didn't rise to the bait.

He fetched a bowl of warm water and a large, soft bath towel and gently bathed her buttocks and spread thighs. She fought back more tears and smiled bravely. He went on to bathe all the visible parts of flesh while she held her arms out then, patting her dry, massaged some cream into her wounds. She smelt strongly of soap and aloe vera. As a finishing touch he lightly rubbed baby oil over her skin and clothing until it gleamed.

Chapter 20 - Bridle & bit

He refastened her arms and picked up the bridle leaving the bit on the table. The bridle was a sort of skullcap made from a headband and centre strap with two vertical straps that hung from the sides and supported steel rings about the width of her hand in diameter. A chinstrap ran between these and another strap went around the back of the head. This was undone. Lucinda saw the diamond that would go on her forehead. She was touched to see it was tooled with the letter 'P' and the letter 'l'. Peter picked up the bit and showed her how it clipped to the rings with a simple latch for easy release. She noticed the thick rubber sleeve and was thankful how much narrower it was than the horrible ball gag. He slipped the bridle over her head and adjusted the straps until she nodded in comfort. With the brush he'd bought in with the bowl and towel he groomed her hair until it hung over the rear strap. Then he forced her lips apart and slipped the bit between her teeth. It was much easier than the ball gag and she gratefully chewed on the rubber. He attached two 'blinkers' to the vertical straps and she found her peripheral vision considerably reduced. Again more locks held everything in place. He stood back to admire her. 'A few final touches.' He stated. Lucinda's heart missed a beat when he picked up the long blonde tail. 'At last,' she thought. He spread her buttocks with his fingers and fiddled with the plug that made her wince until, with difficulty, she could just see the blonde hair hanging down behind her. He then attached a black feathery plume to the front of the headband and two leather cuffs joined by a sturdy chain to her ankles. 'A hobble.' He explained. As if she was going to go anywhere. He picked up a finer chain and with a silver screw clamp and ring at each end. Holding the one clamp, he squeezed and rubbed her nipple erect with his other hand. Pain shot into her breast and armpit as he attached the clamp and gasping from behind the bit, she looked down and noticed the jaws had rows of tiny teeth. The other nipple suffered a similar fate and the chain hung supported between them. He finally threaded the ends of some reins through the rings on the bit and attached these with locks to the rings on her nipples. Standing behind her, he gently pulled and released each rein then nodded as each breast rose and fell. Lucinda winced at the feeling. 'This is how you'll be controlled' he said. 'It's important that you learn this well as other drivers may well be quite be rough if you don't respond as expected.' Other drivers? Her nipples shrivelled at the thought. 'Ideally they'd be better pierced' he muttered and she lurched back slightly. 'We'll start the training later. Would you like to see?' She nodded eagerly. He reached to her face and the blinkers flipped over her eyes. She could just make out the lights on the ceiling where the camera lights illuminated the floor. She wobbled as Peter positioned her hips and, after a few moments, the light from the screen surrounded the darkness. 'OK,' he said, 'legs together, tighten up and show me those tits!' Concentrating, she gripped her arms, arched her back and thrust her chest up. Then, placing her feet together and tightening her knees she sucked the plug into her and pushed her vagina onto the dildo. Finally she levelled her head and relaxed her face to be expressionless like the ponies she'd so admired the previous weekend. She breathed gently. In her private darkness she was acutely aware of the many ways she was constrained, controlled and invaded. The blinkers flicked open. Before her stood two images of the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen this close. Tall and serene she was a perfect picture of how she imagined a pony girl to be. Lucinda couldn't believe it was really she. Smiling from behind the bit she took in the details she'd only partly been aware of and felt herself tingle with excitement. Was she really that tall? And her figure? She always though herself skinny, 'fried eggs' and 'snake hips' were jibes she was used to at school. The harness gave her curves! And very sexy ones at that. It also had the effect of drawing attention to her perky breasts with their silvery chain and reins and the harsh slash of the crotch strap dividing her labia. Next she looked at her profile view. The tail hung down in a thick bush. She pushed her rear back and swung her hips. The tail swished attractively with its weight giving her little sensations in her anus. The combined effect was one of mostly equine with the few human parts visible being those of her exaggerated womanhood. She still found it hard to really believe it was her image on the screen. The effect of Peter's domination combined with the relentless feelings of the tack, twin probes and clips made her acutely aware of her body but, at the same time, by amplifying her sensitivity to the point of almost continuous arousal diminished her awareness of the real world. She felt like she was in her own secure, warm space with only her sexual organs exposed to whatever attention people wanted to give them. It was much, much better than she ever imagined. She continued to swing her hips and sashayed around the room in a large circle, tossing her head at Peter and her sisters on the screen. The effect of walking made the dildo do interesting things to her vagina and its restraining strap likewise to her clitoris. She trotted up to Peter. He slipped an arm around her waist and she saw him look at them both on the screen. With the plume, she was taller than he. They looked a fine couple. 'Master and Pony', she thought. His pony, his slave, his woman, his love. She played the words over in her mind and felt the inner contentment of human affection to match her more immediate feelings of animal lust. 'Time to reward my Master' she decided as she remembered Princess and El.

Chapter 21 - Peter's reward

She pawed the ground and pulled towards the bench. Peter smiled, 'What do you want Lady? Over here, is that it?' She nodded twice and pawed the ground again then, nodding at the bench and the spot in the centre of the two cameras, went behind the bench and made futile attempts at pushing it with her hip. Peter laughed, 'Wonderful! You're really getting the hang of this. You'd like me to lie down on the floor and rest the workbench on me?' He was being deliberately obtuse. 'No, I'd like to place your balls in there and tighten the vice, you sod!' she thought. Smiling, and giving her a playful pat on her rump that made her squeal in pain, he relented and dragged the bench to the centre as requested then stood besides it. 'Now what?' Lucinda slowly trotted around Peter with an exaggerated wiggle of her hips and playfully butted him on the loins each time she passed. After two laps she backed into him and rubbed her rear on his ever-hardening bulge then, skipping off, made another lap and repeated the manoeuvre. After two more laps she felt him press his erection onto her covered vulva and she made a step towards the bench, trying to look back at him over her shoulder. 'I must try and hide these damned blinkers,' she thought as she angled her head in jerks like a magpie looking for insects. Thankfully, he sauntered up behind her and cupped her breasts in his hands then gently stroked the swollen aureolae just below the clamps. This had the effect of making her limbs go weak and she flopped back onto him whereupon he started to nibble her neck and shoulders. He slid his right hand down over her narrow waist to her naked belly and gently stroked and patted her pubis and its tight leather parting. This was transmitted directly to her clitoris with immediate results. She moaned and pulled away then flopped onto the padded top of the bench. Recent memories of her beating flashed through her mind and she felt her buttocks and thighs start to burn again. Riding on the sensation, she sinuously ground her hips onto the end of the bench and raised her tail as far as she could. A quick glance at the screen showed her divided cheeks and lips revealed with every swing. She maintained the rhythm, increasing the amplitude of her oscillations. Interestingly the camera also picked up the glistening wetness around the base of the dildo. 'If Peter was a stallion, he'd have his nose up there by now,' she pondered. Peter had not missed the hint but appeared to have something else in mind to put into her. She saw him staring, entranced, at her swaying tail and unzip his trousers before stepping out of them and his underpants in one move. Side on, he looked divine. They often joked that his prick was the length of the difference in their heights and life's challenge was to give her this difference as many times as possible. To this end, six foot five inches of solid man with seven inches of solid manhood pointed in her direction like a cruise missile on its final approach. Instead of embedding and detonating though, he squatted and kissed the wheals on her buttocks, his tongue moving to the tops of her thighs and the growing sheen of moisture. She moaned again and parted her thighs to encourage further exploration. The infuriating centre strap prevented further access and she shuffled her feet in frustration. Peter slid a hand under her belly and she raised herself slightly to allow him to unfasten it whereupon he tugged it down and unhooked the end on the ring at her perineum. The big, wobbly dildo started to slide from her and she made no attempt to stop it. Peter caught it just before it hit the floor. She watched him rub the juices over his glans and put the now cuckolded phallus to his nose. 'Mmmm' he commented, 'this filly's in heat.' 'Heat?' she thought, 'Heat? You're staring Vesuvius in the eye and you call it simply heat!' He threw the sopping dildo over to the table and positioned himself by her gasping vulva. Taking the reins in both hands, he took up the slack until Lucinda's nipples started to throb. She arched her back to free her breasts and he took up the extra slack that caused the amazing sensations her breasts to radiate down her torso. 'Does this filly want servicing?' he enquired giving the reins a tug and easing the tip of his penis between her desperate lips. 'Oh God, and some!' she silently screamed and gave a feeble whimper. 'Yee ha!' he cried and, one hand holding the reins rodeo style, drove into her until she felt his balls bang against the top of her labia. 'Not bad for an Ivy League guy from Westborough, MA,' she thought and smiled to herself, 'God Bless America and my beloved Master.' Later, when she recalled the morning, she concluded that she must have been in a continuous state of near climax since her beating. He simply reached down and barely touched her clitoris before she shuddered into spasm after spasm with her squeals of delight barely muffled by the bit. Thankfully sparing her over engorged clit and tortured nipples, he gripped the waistband of her harness and fucked her like a steam hammer until he also screamed at his zenith and she felt him pulsate inside her. He flopped down on top of her, panting. Eventually, without withdrawing, he pushed himself up on his arms and said breathlessly, 'Lucky Lady, you sure are some ride!' She just smiled at her clone on the screen who, fully serviced and utterly content, smiled back.

Chapter 22 - Basic training starts

In his Sports Z3, Peter managed the few miles to her flat in Wimbledon in record time. 'They're really going to get you one day,' she chided as she felt the spring air tousle her hair. 'They have to catch me first and I'll just plead na ve Yank' he grinned. 'Hah! Na ve is the last word I'd use to describe you my darling!' she purred as she massaged his muscled leg. They had decided to include in the trip a jog on the Common and Peter wore his shorts and a Patriots bomber jacket. At her flat, L packed her travelling suit bag before she changed into her running gear and, as P helped her load it into the car, she whispered, 'Bye, bye little flat, the next time I see you I'll be a trained pony!'

He ran her ragged. Even her 13-year age advantage failed to make up for his superior stamina. As she leant on his car sipping her energiser drink, he commented, 'I'll soon have you fit, then we can have a real race.' Without pausing for breath, she gave him the finger then finished her drink. 'I'll have you know I'm playing squash tomorrow' she added. 'Sure you'll be up to it?' he grinned. This time she held up the bottle.

Peter suggested stopping for a Big Mac on the way back. Incredulous, she said, 'One day, my sweet, you won't be as fit and the legacy of a life of fatty food will hit you with a vengeance. I'll make us a salad and use that juicer you don't seem to know you have. OK?' When it came to food, there was no question of who was in command, Peter shrugged and nodded silently.

Again, showering seemed out of the question and he told her to simply get undressed explaining that she needed to get used to her nudity. She was thankful that she was only preparing a salad and not frying. She'd made that mistake a few times on self-catering holidays and, although fat spattered breasts seemed tame in comparison to what she'd recently been through, she did not relish repeating the experience. Over the meal Peter ran through many of the routines that they'd seen at the Show the previous weekend. He then prepared a training schedule for her for the coming week. As they perused her diary she felt a little hurt when she noticed his complete lack of comment about her upcoming birthday. He seemed solely focussed on her training. 'While the food goes down, we'll watch a couple of videos about pony girl training,' he stated the moment he finished. L admired his commitment but this was also her weekend and his relentlessness was starting to wear her down. He noticed her expression, 'We only have 12 days training until the Berkshire Trials' he reminded her, 'I want to make a big impression there.' She smiled and bent over to kiss him, 'OK love.' 'Bang goes my birthday' she thought ruefully.

He bade her sit at his feet as they watched the videos. One was set in California and showed stereotypically well-endowed Hollywood soft-porn actresses going through their paces. The other was French and more arty but Lucinda completely lost the plot, if there ever was one. She just giggled occasionally when she lip-read what they were really saying. He, meanwhile, idly stroked her head as though she were a pet dog. She found this rather nice and nuzzled his hand from time to time. He then dressed her again but this time in the sensible boots and used the harness with the smaller plug and tail but left her vagina un- stuffed and sex exposed. Instead, using the vicious toothed clips - she still bore the scratches where he'd torn them from them from her nipples in his throes of ecstasy earlier, he attached small but heavy bells to her outer lips, nipples and ear lobes. Velcro straps attached her wrists to the side of harness this time and she wagged her arms while she clucked and strutted like a demented chicken in a carillon. 'I even know how to lay a massive egg!' she laughed as she squatted and pretended to excrete her plug. Peter silenced her with a sharp swat and the bridle and bit. Thankfully no blinkers this time. She was told to so some of the routines, especially the slow, high- stepping walks, in front of the big screen where she could watch herself and Peter showed her how to operate the playback on his computer. For the more energetic routines she used the long passageway of the flat. She spent the next two hours jingling all the way through her routines with Peter giving her buttocks or breasts the occasional tap with the crop. Towards the end she began to notice his patience growing thin as she grew tired and he tolerated her mistakes less and less, preferring instead to use the tip of the crop on her breasts seemingly more as an outlet for his frustration than for her guidance. 'I don't think I can take 12 days of this,' she thought glumly. Her depression increased when, after her declared her session over, he led her to the spare room and dumped another pile of newspapers on some more plastic sheeting on the floor. Releasing her arms, he told her to screw the sheets into many crumpled balls. 'Your bedding.' He explained. She pawed the floor in disgust. 'I'll call you in time to do a couple more circuits and still leave you plenty of time to get ready for work.' She stood and looked at him both emotionally and physically speechless. 'Is that a problem?' he asked threateningly. She looked down and hung her head. He nodded. 'Good. Just a couple more things then, stay!' She stayed. She was too disconsolate and tired to move. He returned carrying the hobble and a chain. After shackling her ankles he attached the chain to her bridle and locked it with another padlock before attaching the other end to the top of one of the bedposts. It gave her about 2 metres of freedom. Finally, he removed her bit and she flexed her aching jaw and was about to speak when she caught his look and closed her mouth. 'That's in case of emergencies during the night, the locks, by the way, will actually break if you pull hard enough.' He inspected her clamps and, satisfied, caressed her breast and said simply, 'Sleep well Lucky Lady.' With that he turned off the light and left. Not a kiss, nor any chance for her to say goodnight. She didn't feel so lucky any more and felt the tears start to well in her eyes as she sat alone in the harsh orange light cast by a streetlamp. 'No, damn it!' she thought and sniffed them back. She was determined to not let this wear her down. She bent her hobbled legs under her and started to crumple the newspapers then, with an evil grin, peered at the crossword and put it to one side to maintain a thread of her humanity. Finally she had built a crinkly grey nest in the corner and, as a final act of rebellion, removed the clamps on her nipples and labia and was about to curl up when Peter burst in, naked and angry. 'Put them back!' he shouted as he clipped her breasts with the crop. 'Shit!' she thought and scanned the room, 'he's even hidden a sodding camera in here!' She was going to say something about trust, and realised she was the one that had breached it. Instead, she rummaged about in the nest for the clips and winced as she peered in the gloom between her legs and re- attached them and was about to attend to her nipples when he declared. 'Those hands are obviously a temptation,' and went off to fetch something. 'Stand up and turn around!' he ordered when he returned carrying the Velcro straps and the short whip with the ribbons. She obeyed and he strapped her hands behind her back. 'Kneel up, here!' he said pointing to the floor directly in from of him. She dropped to her knees and offered her breasts to him. He stood to one side and smote down with the whip. Even though she was prepared for the blow, he managed to just catch the very ends of her breasts and the whole of her sore nipples. She winced and felt the tears immediately start to flow. 'Sod it,' she thought and let them run down her cheeks and onto her throbbing breasts as he continued her punishment. Finally the hail of blows ceased and she gazed up at him through tear- streaked eyes, the wetness shattering the streetlights into diagonal orange shafts that surrounded his dim form. 'Suck it!' she heard him say. Bewildered she blinked the film away and noticed his erection rampant before her mouth. She gulped and dutifully opened her lips then placed them around his glans to start her oral caresses. To her anguish, he refused her ministrations and, gripping the back of her head by a handful of hair, swiftly masturbated into her mouth even denying her the right to swallow his seed as he withdrew and jetted over her face and still pulsing breasts.

With a wipe of his hand on her hair, he left, slamming the door behind him. She stared, her mouth still shaped like the sectional head of his penis as his semen mingled with her tears and dripped onto her thighs. With a final sigh, she folded into a small ball and went to sleep sobbing softly.

Chapter 23 - Joan and doubts

The cold light of dawn found her with the crossword glued to her left breast. 'Oh hoo-fucking-ray!' she thought as she rolled about trying to remove the tenacious article then finally gave up in exhaustion. She lay panting and, cross-eyed, read, '3 down. Tied with a leap (5)' 'Yea sure!' she muttered to herself as she started to doubt her sanity until the state of her bladder impinged upon her rising awareness. 'Oops! This I don't need.' She said and surveyed the room. Just as she'd determined the target for her morning flow, a theatre review, the door burst open again and Peter filled the frame. Instinctively she cowered in the corner until she caught his gaze. 'Ah my poor Lady,' he said softly, 'are you ready to be released?' She nodded and he silently started to release her catches and bindings. Finally as he helped her remove her boots he kissed her cheek and said softly, 'Good morning my darling.' She stared at him for a moment and broke into racking sobs until he held her tight. 'A hot bubble bath and breakfast await you' he said as he stroked her Cameron Diaz gelled hair. 'Oh love,' she wailed, 'I was so unhappy. I only wanted to please you and you went to bed without me being able to say goodnight properly.' 'There, there,' he soothed, flexing his fingers and looking at them. 'You go and have a bathe and hair wash also, I think, and we'll talk about it later.'

That morning at work passed with Lucinda in a semi trance experiencing frequent painful reminders every time she sat down or moved in her seat. Thankfully there was only the batch of weekend sales and media reports to get out to clients and her very capable assistant, Joan, managed despite Lucinda's weirdness. 'Are you OK?' Joan asked as they stood by the coffee machine. Lucinda looked at the young African woman and grinned, 'Yes, I think so. In fact I think I'm very OK thanks! Just an enlightening and exhausting weekend that's all.' Joan tilted her head and asked, smiling. 'You've had a damned good seeing to then?' and added 'Peter?' Lucinda laughed and put her hand on the girl's arm, 'My love, I've been fucked to the other side of next weekend! I feel like a God damned rabbit!' 'Oooh, you lucky thing.' She pouted, 'Sam and I only managed a pizza and some silly, boring match on the telly.' 'Hmmm, there were times when I wished I was doing only that.' Lucinda commented with a vague expression, 'You still on for squash' Joan asked, interrupting her reverie. 'I sure am. I'm in training!' Lucinda replied proudly. 'Training?' Lucinda put a finger to her lips, 'Secret,' she whispered.

Later, as they dried after their showers, Lucinda caught the younger girl looking at her breasts and rear. She felt a warm glow of achievement as she paraded the visible signs of her development. When they sat in the bar nursing a glass of water each, Joan asked bluntly, 'I presume those marks on your tits and legs are a result of the weekend?' Lucinda tried to look suitably enigmatic, 'They might be,' she smiled. Joan looked at her seriously and touched her hand, 'Be careful Lucinda, you don't know what you could be getting into.' Lucinda was speechless, how could this slip of a girl know what she was getting into, and what business of hers was it anyway? 'What do you mean?' she asked cautiously. 'I met this guy, and old guy, when I was at college. He said I was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen and I was bowled over.' Joan explained and went on, 'He said stuff about protecting my perfect tribal beauty, my genetic heritage and crap like that. That society today didn't appreciate what they had lost.' Lucinda nodded as, taking a deep breath, the young girl continued, 'Anyway, the upshot of it was I ended up calling him 'Massa' like some hammy extra from Gone With the Wind and he beat me whenever I hadn't done the chores to his liking. Actually he beat me anyway because I was his slave.' 'Shit,' muttered Lucinda, 'how long did this go on for?' '18 months.' Joan sobbed and wiped her eyes, 'I chucked in my course.' 'Why didn't you leave him?' Lucinda exclaimed. 'I loved him. Oh Jesus, I loved him so much. It was like a drug, I couldn't do anything without his say so.' Lucinda gulped, a feeling of nausea starting to fill her belly. 'So, what finally happened?' she asked. 'He took me to a fancy dress party one night. I was dressed in all the gear, calico and frilly white petticoats and had my hair in bunches, it wasn't shaved then.' Joan ran her hand over her naked scalp. 'It was a sort of grand ball and after some great old fashioned dancing, violins and stuff, they announced the 'evening's diversions'. I was the diversions. My Master chained me to a wall in the cellar and they took turns to whip me until my clothes came off in ribbons then they gang raped me until I passed out.' She choked, 'they even used bottles on me. I shaved my head the next day and have never seen him since.' Joan had regained her composure but Lucinda took the girl's hand and kissed it gently. 'Oh God love, you poor thing. I never knew, no-one told me.' 'No-one in the agency knows. You know I'm a dyke?' Lucinda smiled, 'We all know that! To the extent that half the sweet young things take one look at you when they start and want to renounce their heterosexuality on the spot!' Joan grinned sheepishly, and squeezed Lucinda's fingers. 'Thank you for that, what about you?' she asked, 'You mean me and Peter?' 'No, I didn't actually, but OK, what about you and Peter?' 'I don't think it's quite like your experiences at all, this is pony- play, mostly dressing up like a horse and trotting about. That's what I'm training for, a show in two weeks.' Joan nodded, 'Yes, I've heard about that sort of thing. I'm sure you're right. Just be careful,' she warned, and added, 'Please, for me?' 'OK love, I will.' Lucinda said and started to rise, 'we should get back.' Joan looked at her watch, 'Bugger, yes!' Lucinda gripped her arm as she started to move away, 'Oh, and Joan?' she said, as she took in the girl's high cheek bones and voluptuous curves 'Yes?' 'I think you are the most attractive woman I know and, if Peter wasn't there for me, I'd be wearing rainbows to the office.' Joan laughed and high-fived her. 'Right on sister!' Lucinda gave her a peck on the cheek and they left grinning arm in arm.

Lucinda pondered Joan's confession all afternoon and replayed her own experiences. Sure there were similarities, but Peter couldn't be that cruel to someone he loved surely? Lucinda reached the flat first and packed her things. She was sitting in the kitchen when Peter returned and threw his keys onto the table. Lucinda felt a nostalgic stirring in her loins. 'Hiya hon!' he exclaimed beaming. 'Hello love,' she said, seeing what he would do next. He wasted no time, tugging off his tie and, about to leave the room, he called, 'Ready to start then?' 'No.' she said quietly. 'No what?' he demanded. 'No, I'm not ready to start,' and added with emphasis, 'Peter.' For a moment a thunderous look crossed his face and Lucinda felt a sense of real fear much stronger than she'd experienced during their play. He looked at her strangely for a while but she held his gaze like facing down a cat. Finally he looked down at her legs and opened his arms, smiling. 'Last night was a bit extreme, eh?' She shook her head, 'No, it's not that.' 'Well what is it then?' He seemed to struggle to control the clipped words. 'I just think things are going a bit too fast,' she answered, and added, 'you knew I had my doubts?' 'Yes, I know. But don't tell me you didn't have fun over the past three days?' She nodded again, 'Yes. I did have fun. It was more erotic than anything I can ever remember. I just think I need some time to cool off, that's all. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind driving me home?' He pondered this for a while then turned to get his keys. 'OK, let's go,' he said as he impatiently jingled the keys.

They drove to her flat in silence and in the rain. 'What a difference a day makes,' she thought sadly as she peered at the streetlamps reflected in the droplets. At least he saw her to the door and sheltered her with an umbrella. 'I'm sorry love...' she started. He held up a hand, 'No, you're right. We both need some space. I'll call you later in the week.' She leant to kiss him, but he was gone into the rainy night. 'Bye love,' she whispered. Then, turning to the entrance to her block said, 'Hello little flat, I hope you didn't miss me?' and added, 'I'm back, having well and truly fucked another one up there again.' She shrugged, 'What the world really needs is another 27 year old spinster' she sighed as she remembered her birthday in four days time.

Thankfully she was involved in a client review meeting all day Tuesday and managed to make the day last late into the evening while she wrote it up. As she wearily climbed the stairs to her flat she both hoped he'd called her and hoped he hadn't. He hadn't. After a shower to wash away the grime of the day she caught site of her striped buttocks in the mirror. Three perfectly horizontal lines ran above a cross of three lines below. She idly caressed her breast as she replayed the weekend. Even if he had behaved like a shit at times, he certainly knew where all the right buttons were. As she felt herself start to moisten she knew that, if he walked in on her there and then, she'd spread for him in an instance. 'C'est la vie,' she murmured and went to bed.

At the morning's coffee machine rendezvous with Joan, Lucinda said, 'I think Peter and I have split.' Joan looked at her for a moment, then said 'Me and my big mouth, I'm sorry. I should have kept quiet, what you do is your business.' Lucinda held Joan's shoulders. 'My love, it's not your fault. Well it is, but what I'm trying to say is, thank you. You made me think long and hard before I got in too deep. It was my choice. I packed and told him we needed to cool off. Judging by his reaction. I think I was right to test our relationship now.' Joan seemed not entirely convinced. 'I need to see that he loves me and I'm not just the next easy lay for him.' Joan raised an eyebrow, 'You're an easy lay?' Lucinda looked sheepish. 'Hmm, well not exactly easy but my hormones do seem to take over under the right circumstances.' Joan pretended to take notes, 'And these are?' Lucinda laughed and hugged her. 'Naughty! What would Sam say?' Joan stood back and appraised Lucinda then declared, 'She'd say, 'A bit on the skinny side but I wouldn't throw her out of bed!'' 'Aw, so romantic. And what would you say?' Joan squeezed Lucinda's hand and looked into her eyes. 'I think you know exactly what I'd say, but first see what happens with Peter, after all that was the deal on Monday!' she smiled, then added, 'But, seriously if it all turns to shit again, please, please don't hesitate to call me. Promise?' 'I promise love, but what about you and Sam? I don't want to screw things up' Lucinda asked. 'Lucinda, darling, Sam and I are soul mates and deeply and utterly in love. I don't think that supporting a friend in need is going to disrupt that. If anything it would bring us closer together. The main thing is that you survive, we have each other.' 'I guess so. I'd like to meet Sam someday, she sounds great.' Joan smiled, 'Yes, she is kinda wonderful. Tell you what, you sort it out with Peter and we'll all go for dinner?' Lucinda held up her palm. 'Deal!' they said simultaneously.

Chapter 24 - Lucinda's birthday

Peter did sort it out. On Friday morning, the day that marked the start of Lucinda's 28th year on the planet, a vast bouquet and a letter arrived at the agency at 10:23, 'Lucinda my darling, Happy Birthday. I'm truly sorry I pushed you too hard. I should have been more receptive to your feelings. The last thing I want to do is hurt you in any way. Please accept these flowers as a small token of my apology and, if you can face me again to receive your real present call my mobile and leave a message and I'll pick you up at your flat at 7pm. I love you, P At 10:37, after she had read the letter three times at her desk and had a good cry in the loo as she read it again, she left a message. 'Yes Master'

Lucinda was in a state of turmoil all day. Joan had heard about flowers, most of the agency had, and, as she read the letter, said, 'Well he certainly seems pretty contrite, perhaps you were over sensitive on Monday?' Lucinda agreed, smiling 'Oh yes, I was certainly that, as my bum kept telling me.' 'I wonder what your present is?' 'I'll tell you on Monday!' Sheepishly, Joan produced a small gift-wrapped parcel from behind her back. 'From Sam and me, Happy Birthday Lucinda, I was going to give it to you later.' It was a small teddy wearing a tiny rainbow badge, 'Aw Joan, he's...' laughing, Lucinda corrected herself, '...she's lovely!' Joan grinned and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Lucinda now looked sheepish and opened her desk drawer. She handed Joan a gift-wrapped present. Joan opened it. It was a book on Thai cooking. 'I remember you saying once that Sam likes to cook Thai for you,' Lucinda said. Joan beamed, 'She does! What an amazing memory, I don't even recall mentioning it. Thank you it's lovely.' Joan read the dedication, 'To two lovely ladies from an ever grateful sister, with love and thanks, Lucinda' Joan hugged Lucinda, 'Now I you must come for dinner!' 'Deal babe' Lucinda laughed. 'Deal babe' Joan laughed and they high-fived, then she said, 'You're looking much better.' Lucinda thought a moment and took a deep breath. 'I'm feeling much better too. I think I got too hung up with the pony side of this, time for a birthday treat for the girl in me!' 'Too right! You want me to book the works?' asked Joan. 'That'd be great love, twoish?' 'Consider it done.' Joan left, clutching her book, while Lucinda placed her little furry friend on the top of her monitor. Lucinda munched an apple as she walked to an exclusive women only leisure club just off Regent Street. The agency often recruited models internally to appear as extras in the ads and a fringe benefit was gaining fast access to many of the services models used. One of them was being professionally pampered. She had them wax her raggedy bikini line but she got carried away with her instructions and ended up with a mere triangular tuft and silky smooth lips. The nostalgic look of pleasure she wore as the congealed wax tore off her hair made the therapist give her a knowing glance a few times. After a sauna, swim and massage they did her hair and nails. Next she pampered herself in Bond Street and bought a sexy camisole and matching suspender belt and stockings, she declined the panties with a smile. Finally she bought a simple shift dress in smoky blue to match her eyes and some new shoes and perfume. At 6:30 she was bathed, powdered, groomed, perfumed and ready for her Peter and her present. She was also terrified.

He arrived bang on time, a very good sign of contrition she thought. Timekeeping never seemed to be skill he seemed to apply to their previous arrangements. He presented her with a single red rose and a smouldering, rib crushing, tit squishing, pussy tingling kiss that seemed to go on for as long as they'd been apart. 'Wow!' she gasped when they broke and grinned, 'Good day at the office then dear?' P laughed, 'No, lousy day, or days. I can't believe what an asshole I've been. I'm really sorry hon.' She just smiled and placed her fingers on his lips, 'All behind us now, I promise.' He stepped back to look at her and sniffed, 'You look, and smell, lovely. What is it?' 'Gucci, Rush. I found it today, a little red box about 10cm long, that's four inches to you.' Lucinda always believed in giving guys simple hints, 'You like it?' 'I like it very much, but I love you!' he said and kissed her again. She melted in his arms and looked up at him. 'I love you too, Master, I don't know why I doubted you.' He took her hands and said earnestly, 'Look hon, we can stop the Master thing if you want, I don't want to scare you again.' Lucinda smiled and, taking his hand, slipped it under her dress and placed it on her bald labia. She thrilled at the touch and his reaction. 'I'm not scared any more, can't you tell that?' She felt a finger slip easily into her and moaned gently as he kissed her again. Finally he broke away and savoured the aroma on his finger, 'That's the smell I really love!' he laughed. 'Well, my love, take this birthday girl out and you'll get much, much more where that came from. Where are we going?' 'Cambridge.' 'Cambridge?' 'Well near there, I was recommended this great hotel some weeks ago, it's close enough to the city for us to do the tourist thing as well.' 'As well?' she smirked, delighted that he'd been planning this for weeks. He grinned, 'Well we do have an entire weekend!'