Chapter 5

Once the groundwork had been laid, and my husband was satisfied that we had all agreed to the rules, we focused on the actual ponygirl training, not just talking about it. That was the kind of stuff that I longed for, and so did Ellie.

Peter took charge of Ellie and was putting her through her paces downstairs.

He selected a riding crop and smartly slapped her on the back of the thighs, under her knees, and on her tits as he stepped her out of the room.

My husband had left my son to get me harnessed up and fitted in full pony regalia in our large walk-in closet that was dedicated to all things pony and bondage-related.

We had our vanilla clothes in another closet in the same room.

I wanted to say something to break the awkward silence between us as I showed my son around our walk-in closet. It was filled with old ponygirl stuff, collars, odds and ends, and bits and bobs of BDSM gear we had collected over the year. Dildos, whips, chains. He’d never been in this room.

I’d introduced Jeff’s sister to some old gear of mine, but this was my inner sanctum where all of my treasures and toys were. I politely gave him a little tour, and he silently nodded as if he were impatient to play with me.

“Master has given you full access, Sir. This is a good full harness set that will please your father,” I noted the chain harness that went around my tits and the features that allowed easy access to my body. He had no comment.

I thought calling my son Sir would be more difficult, but it felt more natural than calling him Jeff while dressed in my regalia. It was easier to think of him as “my groom” than it was to think of him as Jeff, my son – the one whose diaper I had changed only a few years earlier. The one I had taught to ride a bike. The one whose boo-boos I had kissed when he scraped his knee on that bike that I taught him to ride.

He helped me into the gear. I was perfectly capable of fitting myself out, but it’s proper etiquette to let the groom tighten the snaps and buckles. He had to learn somehow, and I was his training dummy. “You can attach weights to my nipples and my labia, Sir,”

I showed him some lightweight lead sinkers attached to custom-made clips that were designed with alligator clamps to bite into my tender flesh and make it hard to shake off. They are very sweat-resistant. He clipped the first one onto my nipple very high and at the tip.

“You can squeeze the nubs tightly and clip it lower toward the base once it’s engorged,” I told him the secret to making it really sting. Peter would know if I hadn’t if he inspected me, and I kind of liked them that way.

“Cool,” Jeff replied and roughly jammed a couple of fingers into my cunt without warning. I felt his fingers slide into me easily, and then he wriggled them roughly as if he were sticking his fingers into a Jell-O mold.

I gasped in surprise. It wasn’t uncommon for a groom to goose me like that, but I hadn’t expected Jeff to do it right then or so soon into my fitting.

If I hadn’t already been standing on my toes inside my hoof heels, I would have been up on them with the suddenness of his digital penetration. Luckily, I was well-lubricated already.

“Jeff, it’s okay if you want to play a little, but are you trying to get me turned on?” I neglected to call him Sir because, at that moment, I saw him as my son and not my groom. I felt uncomfortable, but I tried to remain collected and remind myself that he was acting as my groom and that this is what they do to ponies – especially at first, to get to know my style.

“Yeah! I remembered what you said when you showed us the rig, and I thought it would make things less distressing. I started doing it with Ellie, Uh, Dancer, when we practiced after that first day with you – two fingers in the pink, one in the stink.”

His pinky penetrated my asshole, but only slightly.

I was at a crossroads. I could treat my son like any other groom who wanted to play with me while dressing me out. I could roll my eyes and make him feel guilty because I was his Mom. I could even squeeze my cunt lips tightly around his fingers to show him how much pussy control that I had.

He was already fingering me, so I thought that it wouldn’t serve any purpose to suddenly guilt him into not playing with me. I squeezed his fingers tightly, and he smiled when he felt the pressure from my pussy.

“Can Dancer do that?”

“No, I don’t think so! Wow, Mom!” Jeff’s mind was officially blown. I love it when I suck a dick so well that a guy reacts that way. My mother always told me that men will put up with a lot of trifling bullshit from a woman if she can suck his dick so well that he doesn’t care.

I was getting wet, but suddenly. I felt a crash in the pit of my stomach when I heard the word, Mom. My skin crawled.

“You can play with me while I get dressed. I don’t want you to feel guilty or weird about it, but if you are trying to get me off, mash down on my clit.”

“Really? How hard?”

“Like you hate it and want to bust it open,” I admitted with a grin.

He pushed on my clit hood. “It feels like a snail’s back,” he scrunched his nose in disgust at how slimy I was.

“That’s my clitoral hood, Sir. Try lifting it up and pushing down on the little pink button underneath.”

“Oh, cool,” Jeff squatted down and examined me. “It looks like a little old man sitting in a boat!” he said as he smashed the old man as hard as he could with his thumb.

I groaned. “I had never heard my pussy described in those terms before, Sir,” I licked my lips a little. “You can pinch and flick it or even twist it like a knob. Please don’t try to yank it off, though. That doesn’t do anything for me, sir.”

“Is this about getting you off?”

“You said you wanted me aroused; I am just giving you a little instruction manual. Every cunt is different, and Ellie may react differently. If you want to yank on it, feel free. I have worn weights attached to my hood before, and it stings, but it doesn’t arouse me. Do you mind clipping the alligator clamp weights to my pussy lips nice and high? Yes, there. That’s good. You want to get them far enough up that there is enough meat that they won’t slide off.”

Jeff pressed his thumb into the top of my cunt, as he let the clamps bite into my pussy lips. The familiar sting sent a shiver through me. I made a little kissing sound as I savored the bite into my flesh. It felt like two tiny ants were on either side of my pussy, and they were both biting down on me with their stingers.

“If you are trying to masturbate me to orgasm, we might be here for a while, Jeff. I’ll give you a little secret. Hook the two fingers you pushed into me and try to find the little flap of flesh on the top by touch. Oh fuck, yes. That! Just like that! Just rub tiny circles like that. You don’t have to go fast or try to hurt me. Just keep it nice and steady. Thank you!”

“No, thank you, Mom! Dancer is more of a mystery. Her pussy is like a puzzle box, and you never know what will happen when you wind her one way and then the next day, you have to twist a dial a different way. This feels nice! You are really wet.”

“I am usually wet, Sir,” I replied to my son in the casual manner that I did with my past grooms in between training. I was usually gagged and forbidden to speak without permission during training. The times in between we’d talk freely.

He tickled my butt hole with his other fingers and noted how I puckered it. It happened so fast that I flinched. He chuckled and noted that he liked it when I crinkled it up tightly and clenched it in response to his touch.

I smiled over my shoulder at him and winked. I wasn’t sure what kind of signal I was sending to my son. I was used to being such a lusty slut that I couldn’t help myself. I batted my eyelashes at my son and silently encouraged him to play with me.

Oh God, was I creating a monster? Should I really be teaching my son to turn my screws? He’d been finger fucking me rapidly, which was doing nothing for me. I just thought it was better he learned how to work me than to keep treating me like a cherry pie he was testing the temperature of.

After he’d had his fun, he withdrew his fingers from my pussy, before I reached an orgasm. That was just as well. The anticipation turned me on even more. I could smell my pussy on his fingers. I hoped he would wash his hands before he accidentally licked my juices.

He bound my wrists behind my back and attached an armbinder. It was very simple, the kind that’s designed to lock my wrists in place high in the center of my back. There is a feeling of surrender that I cannot deny when I can no longer use my hands, and I have to rely on someone else to grab and do things for me. It’s somewhat intoxicating but something you have to try in order to appreciate. It’s a helpless feeling, but a familiar one that turns me on, which defies easy description.

Jeff selected a collar for me. It wasn’t my favorite bejeweled one, but rather, it was a posture collar with rings on either side to attach reins to. I decided not to offer any suggestions. He seemed to be doing just fine on his own, and I didn’t want to micromanage him any more than Peter did.

He attached the collar to my neck, noting that I should braid my hair like Ellie.

I had to remind him before we left that I needed a tail. He picked out a butt plug about the size of the one that Ellie had worn in the store. It wasn’t my favorite plug, and it didn’t have a tail hanging down. I whinnied, and he laughed.

“it sounds so weird when you do that,” he snickered and asked me how to warm me up so that I could take the plug.

“I am not like Ellie, Jeff. I’ve got a well-trained asshole. You can put it in my cunt, or my mouth, and I’ll get it wet and then ease it into my butt. You don’t have to make a production out of it,” I assured him.

I wasn’t sure if Jeff was disappointed by the ease with which I would accept the butt plug. He had masturbated his sister until she got horny, then spanked her while she played with herself at the store to get herself wet enough to handle the pain.

He plopped it in my mouth, and I got the plug well-lubricated with spit. He pulled it out and rammed it in my asshole.

“Easy, easy,” I said after he had it in my butt. It slid in, but I would have preferred he took his time. I changed the subject and ignored my throbbing anus. “Please don’t gag me unless your father asks you to do it. I need to be able to speak to you to guide you.”

“What’s the big deal? It went in, didn’t it?” Jeff shrugged off the fact he had jammed the plug in my ass.

“It’s fine, Sir. Most grooms take a little care with how they insert the plug. If it had been bigger, you could have torn me. You will need to practice. It’s your first time, and I am a big girl and can handle it a little rough. Just be a little more careful and take your time,” I advised.

Jeff acknowledged what I said and picked out a crop to use on me for the session we were about to have with his sister and father.

He clicked his tongue several times like I was an actual horse. He didn’t even hesitate to snap the crop across my flanks to get me moving. He treated me just like he did his sister.

I knew the command, and of course, I obeyed him. Jeff had seen Peter direct me with clicks and whistles for years. I didn’t begrudge him his use of the crop, although it was a weird feeling to know the swat came from my own son.

I high stepped out of the walk-in, my thighs lifting parallel to the floor with each step, back rigid, butt cheeks clenched, chin up, and tits proudly pointing the way as much as their sag would allow. He marched me carefully down the stairs. He had chosen not to gag me with a bridle, which was just as well since I needed to be able to offer him advice.

It’s really hard to take stairs and high step while someone is swatting the backs of your thighs. You have to keep your balance and remain graceful while keeping your eyes straight ahead. It’s a slow and careful process. I hoped that my son would take note of the effort that I made and never rush Ellie. One clumsy move in those heavy pony boots could result in one of us falling ass over end to the bottom of the stairs!

Peter had Dancer bent in half, looking back at him through her spread legs. She is so flexible! I have been a ponygirl for nearly two decades, and that pose is still challenging for me. I suspect my Mom can’t do it at all anymore, and that’s why Dad focuses solely on her sulky skills. She can still pull like an ox!

“Ah, good. You look fabulous as usual, Vixen,” Peter complimented me. “You’ll show Dancer how to do her makeup tonight. I want to see her mascara running when you give her BJ lessons later. Oh, and one other thing. Does she have an IUD?”

She didn’t have an IUD. I was surprised that Peter had made that decision so quickly. He had been on the fence about having sex with Dancer.

“I have decided after thinking about that I will be fucking that cute little teen cunt of hers. I don’t want any jealousy, though. Understood?”

“Of course, Master!” I replied. I was never very jealous of any other woman fooling around with my husband. I usually invited other women into our bed FOR Jeff. I was the one who really fucked around a lot – always with his permission or at his instruction.

However, I have to admit that I was a little disappointed because she was still my daughter, and honestly – I wanted Peter’s cock tonight. I could tell that he was going to save that for Ellie just by the gleam in his eye when he made his decision.

“All we need is to get her knocked up at 18 and spend her life a single mom. Pregnant ponies can be fun, but if she isn’t on birth control, then I’ll stick with her ass for now until she gets one if she doesn’t already.”

“No, Master. We haven’t really talked much about birth control, but she is on the pill,” I replied, having never before thought about Peter not knowing such things.

“My butt?” Ellie asked hesitantly. You mean you want to fuck it? With your cock? Are you sure? I poop from there! Sir,” she added as an afterthought. My daughter scrunched her nose in disgust and wrinkled her forehead, probably imagining her ass packed with shit and cum from her father.

“As long as I’m your trainer, I’ll use your ass. All of your holes belong to me, even the one you poop from, Dancer. Is that what you wanted?”

“Yes, Master.”

“What I won’t do is switch holes while I’m fucking you unless you’ve just had an enema. You may poop and fart out of that disgusting hole, but you won’t be doing that while I am fucking it. You’ll be cleaned out and ready to have me fill it with hot cum.

Ellie was eighteen and sexually experienced. She took that butt plug at the store like a champion. I was really surprised that no one had ever tried to stick their dick in that juicy plump Puerto Rican ass of hers. I wondered if she was just pretending to be an anal virgin to tease her father.

“Some trainers don’t care if their dick gets shitty. They’ll fuck a ponygirl’s ass and then her cunt or mouth, and you have to be prepared for that if you want to continue the training after Camp Crucible. Camp Crucible is very pretty risqué and sometimes raunchy. You will be trained as a three-hole slut like your mother. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Is two-hole slut an option?” she asked, almost kidding, and suggested she loved getting plowed and sucking cock but wasn’t sure about anal.

“No, it’s either no sex or actual sex. We aren’t playing little girl games,” Peter explained firmly. He made a little girl’s voice and touched himself all over to imitate an immature tween. “You can touch me here, you can touch me there, but not there. Okay, here some, but not there.”