Pony Boot Camp — Part Ten

Guess Who’s Coming to Lunch

They walked us behind the barn to a concrete area with taps and gutters. Giving us a real shower was out of question due to our leather tack, so the handlers quickly sponged us down. I should have been thankful for the clear cool water, but I could not lose the impression that they were actually grooming us in some form – which was rather creepy.

Play Time

Play Time

“I’ve got special plans for this weekend,” Biri purred.

It didn’t take too much imagination for Leif to determine what those plans would be. His girlfriend’s outfit made some very clear statements in that regard.

“Can you even breathe in this, sweetie?”

“As long as I don’t laugh,” she chuckled and let her latex-gloved hands slide along the skimpy rubber dress and tightly-laced corset. Kneeling in front of him in their living room, Bérénice was a picture of enthusiastic submission, ready to have her photo printed in a BDSM textbook.

Pony Boot Camp — Part Nine

Stranger than Fiction

Like always they let us march lock-step, a circumstance we had got used to. Our handlers who walked to our left were holding the reins of their two or three respective girls with slack, at least for the time being. What made our way towards the corrals so challenging was our special footwear. When stilting on your tip toes plus eight centimetres of fake hooves you might be somewhat distracted from synchronising your moves with those of the person in front of you – who is teetering about just like yourself.