Susan was up bright and early, scrubbed shiny, and had her bag packed ready. She finished her breakfast coffee and was outside when James drove up. As he opened the door for her she thanked him for looking after Dee and Cilla.

“It was a pleasure, Miss Susan,” he told her, and ensured that she was comfortable before he shut the door.

Max was sitting in the front seat and Helen was in the back with her.

“Is this so important that it means both of you come?” asked Susan.

Max laughed. “No, well, it is important, but we’ve other things to do too.”

“I’ve madesure you’ll be looked after,” said Helen. “By the way, how are things with Andy?”

“We had a nice evening last week. Umm ... he’s asked Frankie out,” Susan replied.

“Has he upset you?”

“No, no ... it’s just, well, he’s a really nice guy, but he’s but ... well ... I’ve got my career, and he’s got his.” Susan really was having difficulties, she certainly didn’t want to upset Helen by criticising her little boy.

“And you’re an alpha female,” Helen laughed. “Yes, I can see that would cause problems. What about Frankie?”

“I’m not sure, she’s a nice girl, determined she wants to go to college and make furniture, beyond that I’ve no idea.”

She had an ingenuous smile on her face. The statement was perhaps a little less than frank.

Whether Helen picked up on the smile is moot, but she went on, “It’s his choice, of course, whether he wants someone who will look after him or someone who will stretch him. We’ll see, but it’s a pity, I’d have liked you as a daughter-in-law.”

Susan was silent, a husband was the very last thing she was looking for.

When they arrived at the studios Helen took Susan in and handed her over to a girl who was waiting to show her where to go. She introduced herself as Imogen, a very attractive girl, brown hair, hazel eyes, you might say average in almost every dimension, but those dimensions matched very well. Susan was already primed that the audition was for a part in what Max had described as a comedy detective/spy series, a bit like the Avengers used to be, he’d said, you’ll remember that. Which Susan didn’t of course, she was far too young. She went through various interviews, tests, she had to read from a script, which meant an accurate sight read, she had fortunately learnt several poems at school, and she hastily recalled one, and she was able to recite it with some feeling. All seemed well, Imogen informed her that the final test was to be interacting with the fight supervisor. She looked at Susan who was dressed in jeans and a jumper.

“You should be okay in that. It is a bit of a trial, the last girl looked as if she’d had her anal beads removed by a Canadian lumberjack trying to start a chainsaw in winter,” she giggled. “And they’re capturing it on camera, of course.”

Susan wasn’t sure whether the Imogen was just warning her or trying to unsettle her, either way she walked onto a large mat, where there was a man who looked like he was an ex marine commando, something that Susan discovered later was, in fact, what he was. He was also the fight arranger.

The man took one look at her and shook his head and groaned. “Oh shit, another bloody amateur hopeful.”

She gave her name which was chalked on a clapper board, and then faced the man.

He had dealt with a few of the ‘hopefuls’ this morning and he was determined to dispatch another one who obviously relied upon her good looks and tits to get her the part. So he attacked without delay. As he reached Susan, she simply wasn’t there. She moved at the last moment, turned, tripped him and followed up with her foot to help him on his way.

He rolled over and sat up. “You weren’t supposed to kick me in the bollocks,” he complained.

“Sorry,” Susan apologised insincerely. “Amateur error.”

There was some laughter from the crew, and he smiled. He knew that the kick was quite gentle and hadn’t caused the pain it might have done.

She advanced to him and held out her hand to help him up. She realised the error of this action when she was flying through the air. She twisted and landed on her feet, facing him ready for the follow up.

The man was on his feet. He held out a clenched fist, and Susan moved forward and bumped it with hers.

“I’m Ray,” he said. “Now, could we try a couple of falls so that I can get a better idea of what you can do? Congratulations on that, by the way, but this is a show, try not to maim your partner.”

They worked for another ten minutes, at the end of which Ray told her as far as he was concerned she had his approval. There was some applause from the crew too.

Susan realised that two men were watching and she looked towards them. She did a double take at the the sight of one of the men. She had a split second to decide how to cover this.

“Uncle Horace!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

Horace had a grin of relief on his face. He had recognised Susan, and realised the possible danger.

“Susan!” he replied. “I might well ask the same thing of you.”

Susan kissed him on the cheek, whilst Imogen had a look of surprise on her face.

“I’m auditioning,” Susan told him. “Ray,” she indicated the fight arranger, “thinks I’m okay, but I know I’m not that good an actress.”

“And I’m being asked to finance the production. But I cannot say I agree with you about your acting skills. They seem very good to me,” he laughed. “I must move on,” he indicated the man with him, “Mr Stone is showing me around. Would you be free for lunch tomorrow?”

“Yes,” said Susan.

“I’ll pick you up. Say 12.30?”

Horace moved on. Susan wondered how he would know where to find her, but she could hardly ask.

Imogen took charge of her again. “Is that really your uncle?” she asked.

“My mother’s brother. They fell out just before she died some time ago so I haven’t seen much of him. Today was a surprise.”

A total fabrication, but Susan wasn’t too worried, she was sure no one would ever check.

“Oh, yes, it was,” was the only reaction. “Your fight was impressive, and seeing you in action I realised where I’d seen you before ... red catsuit?”

“Oh yes,” Susan smiled. “I’ll never live that one down.”

“Everyone I’ve spoken to thought it was brilliant, funny, and the sort of ad that stays in your mind.”

“Thank you,” said Susan. “It didn’t start well, the actress who was supposed to be doing it was ill, so they sent me. I hadn’t even seen the script, and I was supposed to look like a housewife. I asked them what a housewife looked like, which rather put the director on the spot. Still, we got it done.”

“I thought you had to be a star to talk to directors like that,” said Imogen laughed.

“Perhaps I should remember that,” Susan, joining in the laughter.

James was waiting for her.

“Miss Susan, Mr Goldwyn and Mrs DiSilva are lunching with some important clients,” James told her, “and they have requested that you join them.”

“Oh, I’m hardly dressed for that,” said Susan.

“You look just fine, Miss,” said James as he opened the car door for her. “It isn’t formal, and I’m sure they will understand what you have been doing.”

Susan made some quick repairs to her make up and James delivered her to a very posh country house restaurant. He stopped at the door to let Susan out. She entered, and the Maitre d’ escorted her to Max and Helen who were with Horace and Mr Stone, and another younger man. As introductions were made by Max, Mr Stone turned to Horace, saying that of course he knew Susan.

“Of course,” said Horace. “My niece.”

The young man was introduced as Armand Grandoutil. French and handsome thought Susan, and he knows it.

And then Imogen arrived, greeted everyone, stepped up to Horace, kissed him on the cheek.

“Hello Daddy” she said.

Susan looked at the carpet, but the whole floor looked solid and unlikely to conceal a hole she could disappear into. Fortunately no one was looking at her until Imogen turned to her.

“The cloakroom is over there,” she said to Susan, placing her hand gently on her arm.

As the door closed behind them, Imogen turned to Susan.

“I couldn’t say anything earlier, but would you care to tell me about it, because one thing I do know is that my father has a brother who has no children, but he doesn’t have a sister. And Daddy is going along with it. So what is going on?”

Susan took a deep breath. “I met him in rather embarrassing circumstances, certainly to explain to his daughter. Anyone’s daughter. When I saw him this morning I did a double take, and I knew I had to cover it, and uncle was the first thing I thought of.”

“And he went along with it ... so you’re a call girl?”

“No, certainly not! But ... well, it does involve sex.”

“We can’t stay in here for too long,” said Imogen. “I like you, and I think you’re genuine, so after lunch I’m going to drive you home, and you WILL tell me all about it. Come on.”

As she said this she had opened the door to find Helen standing there. Clearly she had overheard the last part of the conversation.

“And tomorrow,” Helen told Susan, “you are going to call at my office and tell me, because I think I may need to know. The men have no idea, so don’t worry about that.”

Susan was going to have a busy time doing a lot of talking.

After lunch Imogen claimed Susan and took her out to a new mini.

“Birthday present from Daddy,” she grinned. “But I think you already know that he’s generous.”

“Yes,” Susan agreed. “I’ll begin at the beginning, but just the salient facts and you can ask questions. I was the fat girl on the end checkout when I was invited to work at the stables at Home Farm. That’s in the village. Then these twins, Jack and Jill wanted me to prepare the stables at ‘The Grange’, which is a sort of club, just outside the village, for a pony. It turned out the the pony they wanted was me.”

“Really? How does that work?”

“You need to try. Anyway, the twins took me in hand, I exercised, ate properly, and took care of myself. I went to the gym and took self defence lessons. Then the twins bought me the red catsuit and sent me down to the dungeon beneath ‘The Grange’ to entertain this man who I had met briefly before. He was immobilised in some sort of frame and I just had to talk to him and gently brush my hands over him until he, umm, ejaculated.”

“And that was my dad?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, I’m having difficulty with that.”

“I’m not surprised. He had other what you might call torture things and I, umm, helped him out on other occasions. That’s all until last Saturday when there were some problems, and the twins did a runner. So I released your dad and told him to get out quickly in case the law got involved. Then I got the owner to come and sort things out.”

“Why did they run?”

“There were problems in the stables and a young girl was about to be raped. I lost it and used a little force to sort things out. But I think there maybe a big hole in the finances too.”

“I saw what you did with Ray, so I can imagine what might happen if you really meant it.”

“Yes, I try not to, but sometimes, like when my, umm, stepmother, Dee was raped. That man spent some time in hospital.”

“You sound like a caped crusader putting the world to rights,” said Imogen

Susan laughed.

“So how did you get into acting?”

“Modelling to start. Mel Bright was modelling for her mum and they needed a second person and I happened to be there,” Susan told her. “She introduced me to Max, and the rest is history.”

“I don’t know, all I see are some boring actors who never notice me, too full of themselves. But you’re different, not full of youself, and you seem to know much more interesting people,” Imogen sighed. “Now what’s this about ponies?” she asked. “That sounds interesting.”

“You want to try,” Susan made it a statement. “I warn you, you have to get your kit off.”

“Well...”

Susan giggled. “Take the next left. It’s not far.”

When they arrived at ‘The Grange’ Susan identified herself to the guard who told her that he was bored stiff.

“I sincerely hope you remain that way,” Susan told him.

Susan instructed Imogen to drive up to the stables and they got out. She led the way into the stables and went into the loose box. Imogen followed. Susan picked up the harness and held it up. Imogen, Susan was sure, was going to make a very good pony.

“You have to take your shirt off,” she told Imogen, who looked at her. “Oh, and your bra.” Imogen looked towards the door.

“Just the two of us girls here,” said Susan. “And the guard won’t leave the gate.”

There was a slight change in Susan’s tone and she now spoke as if she was in charge. Which, of course, she was. Imogen slipped the shirt over her head, and then unhooked her bra displaying a very delightful pair of breasts. Susan put the harness around her, settled her breasts into the cups with the nipples protruding, and buckled it at the back.

“Better support if you run,” she told Imogen.

“Oh! Why are my nipples on show?”

“We’ll get to that, the next bit needs your jeans removed” said Susan. Imogen took her jeans off.

“And your knickers ... now try these on,” Susan handed her the boots. Imogen sat on a straw bale.

“Ouch, these things are prickly, the boots fit nicely,” she walked up and down.

“Excellent,” said Susan as she fitted the straps around Imogen’s thighs and then hooked another strap to the top of the boots to hold things in place.

“How are you feeling?” Susan asked.

“Interesting, what comes next?” asked Imogen

“Put your hands by your sides,” Imogen did so only to discover that her wrists were attached to her thighs. She was about to protest, but Susan told her that ponies didn’t have hands, and then she fitted the clit stimulator knowing that Imogen would move enough to take her mind off other things.

“Now, just one or two more things, open wide,” Susan told Imogen, and as she opened her mouth to ask why Susan popped the bit in and Imogen made a gurgling sound. Susan went on to fix the head dress.

“There,” she said, “just a couple more things ... well three actually.”

Susan leant forward, sucked a nipple, and clipped a bell in place, and before the curious ‘oogle’ sound had died away, did the other one, and elicited an ‘uurrh’.

“Now the tail and that’s it.”

Imogen assumed that this would attach to the harness, so she wondered what Susan was doing when she put her arm around Imogen’s tummy and bent her forward. There was an ‘awk’ sound and Imogen jiggled up and down. The bells tinkled and Imogen’s orgasm rolled over her. Susan left the stimulator in place as she led Imogen to the sulky, reflecting on the remarkable range of sounds that Imogen produced. Susan set the shafts in Susan’s hands, removed the stimulator, then took the reins and got into her seat.

“Walk on,” she said, tapping Imogen’s bum.

Imogen walked, Susan steered her onto the track, said ‘trot’ and Imogen sped up. At the end of the lap Susan turned her for a second and ordered ‘run’. Imogen went into a run which was certainly faster than Susanna had managed, and she was winded by the time she finished.

“My word but that does look like fun,” said a familiar voice.

Susan whirled round. “George! What the hell are you doing here?”

“I do own the place, Susan,” George told her.

“Yes,” Susan sighed, “I suppose that’s a reasonable excuse.”

“Who are you tormenting?” asked George.

“Imogen. And she was perfectly willing, she wanted to try.”

“Can I try?”

Susan looked at Imogen who nodded.

George got into the seat and Susan handed him the reins.

“He-arrrh.”

Imogen looked at Susan.

“George, you say ‘walk on’,” Susan told him. “You’re not driving a bloody stagecoach.”

“Oh! Right, walk on.”

George and Imogen completed a lap and George got down, handing the reins to Susan.

“That’s fun,” he said. “I wonder if I can get Jennifer to do that,” he added thoughtfully.

“Well you can ask her, I’m not going to,” returned Susan.

“I’ll be in the office,” said George and wandered off, deep in thought.

Susan released Imogen from the sulky and removed the bridle and headdress. She put the stimulator back in place and walked her back to the loose box. Naturally they didn’t get there before she started to collapse as her orgasm removed her coordination. She grabbed at Susan and immediately forced a deep kiss on her. Susan did join in, of course.

“Oh my God, I’ve never done that before ... not with a girl!” Imogen said when the kiss broke. “Am I a lesbian?”

“I shouldn’t worry about it,” Susan told her. “You’ve never been a pony before either. One kiss doesn’t make you a lesbian. It’s not catching.”

“Are you a lesbian?”

Susan laughed. “No way. But I’m happy to go either way.”

“Which is best?”

“They don’t really compare, I like both,” Susan replied. “But my experience with men only started yesterday,” she giggled.

Back in the loose box Susan got Imogen out of the harness, and Imogen got dressed.

“That was quite an experience. I’m not sure about the tail and the nipple clamps, although they do add something ... yes, definitely. I can see something in what Daddy does. I’ll take you home.”

“No,” said Susan, “I’ll get George to do it. I want to talk to him.”

“Daddy’s taking you to lunch tomorrow, I want a blow by blow report of how much you can make him squirm!” Imogen laughed, “I’ll give you a call, cousin.”