Monday, February 20, 2017


A little pony play. I have not written in this genre in a while.

I will post when the story is completed and available on Lulu. It will be short.



Copyright 2017

by Chris Bellows

Madeleine Cartwright palms the warm soft globe, bringing a brisance of feminine delight. A thumb smooths over the thin flesh. Now the size of a peach, she recalls youthful days when the organ was modest but growing in promise... as her mother explained.

‘It will ripen, dear. With maturity... and some special treatment.’

Her hand moves to next palm the opposing testicle, equally impressive in size... her capricious handling bringing more headiness.

“Almost time for another pair of rings, Tommy. Gold is getting pricey but I’ll not deny you your anniversary gift.”

She feels her steed tremble in response... the words? Her tender touch?  His truckling reaction augments her sense of power and control.

“Please no, Miss Maddy. They’re... they’re... well... it’s difficult to run for you.”

“That’s why I strap them for you, silly boy.”

Madeleine withdraws her palpating hand and strolls about the mammoth hanging form, checking the tethers. Bound for a long evening of rest, comfort is important... as important as imparting the sense of helplessness and vulnerability. It is best... just as her mother lectured years before when Madeleine Cartwright was first introduced to the stable and the delight of owning, grooming, and exercising the male steed... the intact male steed.

Hanging from the beams of the aging wooden barn, three broad cloth straps hold in place the prostrate nakedness at waist height, encircling at the chest, right thigh and left. A foam lined prosthetic neck collar holds in place the head... firmly but again comfortably. The arms are drawn back to rest at the small of the back, wrists cuffed and secured together. The feet are drawn up to the wrists, ankles likewise tethered to restrain the nakedness in a moderate and thus easily endurable hogtie.

The steed is thus immobile and subject to examination... close and intimate... the thigh straps forcing apart the knees to reveal luridly the male package.

Stepping to the front, Madeleine smooths her right hand over the forehead then gently pats the right cheek in a maternal gesture of kindness.

“You’ve been running well for me Tommy. You deserve more diamonds... but there is no place left for them.”

A thick cloth hood is summarily slipped over the head and face. Deft hands work to align a large opening for the mouth and nose. Then comes the ritual that began so many years before. At the time Madeleine a slip of a girl, newly acquired steed Tommy hanging in his bonds for the first time... Marcy Griffen, a sizable woman of color, serving as trainer and groom, introduces the owner’s daughter to the world of the human equine.   


“Come Maddy,” the affable but stern trainer gestures. “He can’t hurt you.”

Pony boy Tommy hangs for the first time, well bound and hooded. A prepubescent Madeleine Cartwright, shy but curious, looks on from the corner of the stable. Meekly responding she approaches, apprehensive. Having been tended to by the ranch’s naked castrate servants... mother’s preference for household help... the naked intact male form has not before been viewed by young Madeleine. And though young, the male bits hang imposingly, the reason Tommy’s form demanded a goodly sum at auction.

Marcy takes the little girl’s hand, a firm grip transmitting a sense of feminine power and thus assuaging concerns. There follows a lecture, Marcy’s strong free hand brazenly grasping and pinching various parts of the male anatomy, explaining the muscles which she will endeavor to better develop. There also come descriptive words concerning the penis and its function, such a long strand of flesh not before seen. When Marcy palms the tip, her thumb nimbly kneading the underside of the hypersensitive tip, Madeleine is first surprised then amused when the organ begins to swell then firm. Such has never occurred with the neutered household help.

“Boys like to play with this, Maddy. It feels good to them... making it harden. But here at the ranch it will no longer harden for him... only under the direction of a woman in charge.”

Young Maddy stares in silence as Marcy playfully encourages full tumescence then withdraws.

“It’s... it’s... so big, Marcy,” an astonished Madeleine exclaims.

“Yes, not like the girly boy maids in the house. He’s a good ten inches, Maddy. There are women such as your mother that enjoy working a boy of size. Brings a certain thrill.”

“And these,” the hand palming the male plums, “ these are called testicles. Very sensitive organs... we can use them to better control him.”

Marcy demonstrates, vigorously squeezing the right egg between thumb and forefinger to bring instant pain. Maddy steps back in surprise when there comes a gasp of male anguish and spasmodic lurching in the broad hanging straps. When Marcy merely laughs in response, Maddy feels comforted.... giggling girlishly to join in feminine delight.

“I’ll be working this one very hard over the next few weeks, Maddy. Get him broken into the harness and in shape. If he’s good, he’ll get a reward.” Marcy guiding young Madeleine to stand before the hooded head as she speaks.

Maddy’s hand is released as Marcy reaches to the hem of her short tight leather skirt, rolling upwards.

“Boy’s like to taste things... at least he’ll be trained to enjoy tasting things.”

With that, Marcy exposes her mons, never working the stables with undergarments. Maddy is further surprised when the woman of resolve steps forth to press her flesh to the exposed nose and mouth of pony boy Tommy.

“Lickie lickie,”she genially encourages with a smile, her hands enshrouding the hooded head to align moist chocolate flesh with pink lips.

Marcy hears the sounds of wetness, the male tongue obediently complying.

“Maddy, when you come to play in the stable, leave your panties behind. Mother does not need to know. It will just be between us girls. I’ll have a stool for you to stand on.”