Midnight - Segment XVII

Food and Exercise

Whereas a brisk three mile run may seem like adequate exercise, for the likes of Midnight, it is more or less a warm up. Her well chiseled and honed form did not develop languishing in suspension.

So, after breakfast and completing a quick trip to the local jewelry and drug store, I show Douglas how to prepare Midnight’s slop and explain her demanded daily regimen.

“Midnight burns lots of calories, Douglas. She requires high levels of protein and complex carbohydrates. Limited fat, modest sugar.”

My words come as I stuff the blender with a gallimaufry of nutritious foodstuffs, adding a vitamin drink for moisture. There are also added a few droplets of that acquired at the drug store. A prescription for testosterone has been refilled. Ostensibly for me, it works wonders on Midnight, the female limbic system much more susceptible to the common male hormone. Had we not depilated her years ago, hair would grow in abundance. Instead it’s her clitoris that transforms. I like the thought of growing a little penis on her.     

“That’s really good food, Dad!” son Douglas surprisedly exclaims.

“Nothing but the best for our pony girl,” flipping the switch for the blender.

“But you’re ruining it!” the whirring blades turning the concoction to an unrecognizable grayish mush.

“For Midnight, food is to be functional, never something to enjoy. Hopefully the blending transforms the taste, hate to think she would identify anything... or find enjoyment,” my grin one of wickedness.

“So observe. There’s no magic recipe. Just stuff the blender, throw in some form of liquid and mash it until it becomes revolting.”

I pour into a bowl and grab a spoon.

“You’ll also need to supervise her exercise and you may find entertainment in an hour or two of dressage training.”

I lead from the kitchen... out the door... back to the barn with Douglas following... my seed planted.

“Dressage, Dad, what’s that?”

“The term comes from the French word, translated as ‘training’. In equine terms, horse and rider are expected to perform from memory a series of predetermined movements. The purpose is to develop, through standardized progressive training methods, a horse's natural athletic ability and willingness to perform, thereby maximizing its potential as a good riding horse.”

Douglas pushes open the barn door. We step within. The gaze of both pair of eyes immediately falls on our hanging pony girl. Not having weighted her elongated pink charms, she once again squirms in suspension, attempting to frottage her labia against her spread inner thighs.

More naughtiness.

“Another reason to keep her well spread Douglas. Note how she attempts to bring self gratification. I’m sure you will note the odor.”

Yes, the barn reeks, despite having hours ago offered Midnight a long cleansing with redolent soap. The scent of lavender has been overwhelmed by the redolence of her stimulated vagina.

I slip away the hood, offering Midnight a ‘tsk, tsk’, as mild rebuke. More severe admonishment or punishment is superfluous. After all, her libidinous actions only frustrate herself. She’ll never bring herself to ultimate climax while well bound and held open.

Handing son Douglas the bowl, I instruct.

“Slow and deliberate. She’s famished and will want to gobble. But remember, you are always in control.”

Midnight brazenly glares at me, knowing not to speak but signaling that indeed an empty stomach demands sustenance. So the feeding begins, one leisurely spoonful at a time, me nodding when a second, third and fourth offering is deemed appropriate, the timing so much augmenting both Midnight’s frustration and her owners power over her.

“Dressage, Dad. Midnight is a cart pony, not ridden,” Douglas’s curiosity bidding a continuation of our conversation.

“Oh, yes. Well for Midnight, the form of dressage is best having her prance through an obstacle course, the timing, the moves, the direction dictated by a trainer, practiced and practiced until memorized. It hones the foot work, acclimates her to being controlled plus inures obedience, not to mention of course conditioning legs and buttocks.”

My words bring reflection, recalling my introduction to Mother’s form of pony girl dressage many years ago...