“Ahhh, sweetie pie girl, don’t you fret about being handled like this,” he continued his gentle, inexorable manipulations as that slick territory swelled and strained beneath his fingers, both voluntarily and involuntarily. “I’m just the first of many – there’s no room for shame or embarrassment here. Whatever you were before you came here is well and truly gone now, and you are now and forever an owned filly – owned by me.” There was a wealth of satisfaction in that statement. “You’re a cosseted, well-cared for ponygirl who nonetheless will feel the sting of the cane or a paddle or strap across her backside if she doesn’t obey the men around her who train and handle and take good care of her. Ted is going to do this to you every time he grooms you – it’s a requirement I have of all of my grooms – that they satisfy each mare in their care every morning and every evening, and they can choose to do the deed with either their hands or their mouths.”
More reluctant but excited moans and groans, struggles that were rapidly waning as he brought her closer and closer to his goal against her will. Her muscles were tensing again from more than her awkward efforts to escape; she was nearing orgasm just as he’d planned. Aaron read her responses quite expertly as her breath began to heave out of her lungs and her back arched. He redoubled his efforts, slipping down her crease a little further to gather the moisture he was gratified to find at her virgin entrance, bringing it back up to baptize her little bump. Those fingers caressed her relentlessly until he saw her try to throw her head back and felt her convulse beneath his hand, keening in that awkward way the new ones had because of the way the spray affected their vocal chords. He didn’t let up, though, milking her dry of every possible spasm, although she began to fight him again immediately after the first few hard contractions, despite his murmurs of encouragement to give in to it and enjoy it.
Afterwards, she collapsed in on herself as much as was possible physically as he made preparations to take her to her own stall. Aaron attached reins to the rings at the cheeks of her bit-less bridle, lowered the platform with a hydraulic switch so that it was level with the floor again, and released her wrists, waist, and ankles. He coaxed her up onto her feet, helping her a lot with muscles that were not cooperating well after such a long time in one position, only then realizing when he looked at her face that she was crying – she’d being doing it in complete silence.
Before he moved to comfort her in any way, he saw to her safety and his, folding her arms back behind her one by one and locking her forearms together in gauntlets that kept them bound there. In an abstract moment he considered how much he loved what this did to a filly’s breasts, throwing them into amazing prominence with their wonderful tips pointing straight out. Eventually, he would decorate Mandy’s beautiful little nubs, but not right now. The last thing he did was hobble her ankles together with a short length of sturdy leather.
He stood next to her, towering over her, and by casually turning her head, Mandy was able to get her first quick look at the man who already knew her with an incredible amount of intimacy. On all fours, Amanda had not gotten any real sense of his size, but she was a smallish, delicate woman who barely stood over five feet. Normally, she wore four inch heels and big padded-shoulder business suits to compensate for her lack of stature – to say nothing of her carefully cultivated killer, kill joy personality. As she stood there in bare feet, he must’ve been at least a foot taller than she was – and probably outweighed her by more than an hundred and fifty pounds of what appeared to be solid muscle. He was huge, and for some reason that just made her cry all the harder.
Aaron was well aware that his charge was trying to get a gander at him, and that was fine as long as it didn’t interfere with what he was doing for her, but it worried him that, having looked at him, she was crying even more. He almost smiled, wondering if he hadn’t perhaps been quietly and firmly insulted by the little one, which he was sure she’d just love the idea of at this point. “Shah-shah-shah,” he shushed gently at her broken-hearted tears that were ripping into him. He hated to see any woman cry, but he thought that seeing a ponygirl cry was even worse, because it was harder for her to tell him what was wrong, and sometimes harder for him to fix it, unless the tears were inspired by a scolding or a punishment in which case he knew that they were well earned although they were still hard to hear. His body definitely drew pleasure from the punishment of a naughty pony, and he understood the reasons behind how necessary swift, regular – at first – punishments were – even the harsher sessions – but his heart and mind always felt inherently discomfited by it; Aaron always saw his role as a pony breeder/trainer as much more of a caretaker who guided and comforted and praised and pleasured his girls into obedience, even though he went to the whip if it was necessary – and frankly, the idea of having to do that with Mandy – which he was quite sure was going to be the situation for a while until she settled into her new existence – made him stiff as a poker. But he hated to think of that as his predominant method. He would always give a filly the chance to decide to behave herself.
Whether she complied with the rules or not was one of the few things she would still have control over in this life.
“What’s with the tears, little one? Am I that ugly that one look and you’re bawling your eyes out?” he let his voice smile at her.
She sniffled a little and seemed embarrassed that he’d commented on her weeping.
Aaron took a handkerchief from his back pocket that he had deliberately scented with the brand of aftershave he always used and carefully wiped her face. He knew that scent associations were very important in training his girls, and he wanted his scent to represent comfort to Mandy. “Now, then, that’s much better, honey-girl, isn’t it? Yes, it is. Now. Let me explain to you how to walk properly with your trainer or groom: your groom will always be on your left side holding your reins or the lead to your halter. You will always be as you are whenever you are taken somewhere – although you’ll usually be wearing more decorations than you are now, you’ll always be nude, even when you’re dressed up – or ‘dressage’ nude, the only things you’ll be wearing will be little tassels or bells hanging from those pretty pink nipples of yours, or dripping out of your bare cunt, which will never again have hair on it.” He deliberately stroked each area as he spoke of it, and when she tried to struggle away he gave her her first training lessons in ponygirl behavior – never fidget away from the man who is handling you – especially at a stand, but generally not anywhere else, either, unless you were being punished, in which case it was considered natural to flinch from the implement or hand.
Each time she moved even the slightest bit away from his hand, she got a sharp smack to her already tenderized derriere with something that felt like stiffened leather. It smarted something fierce and quickly had her reconsidering whether or not she should be flinching away from him, even if that was what her mind wanted her to do each and every time. Her bottom was definitely screaming that she did not want to have to feel that horrid thing stripe her already tortured flesh again.
“Stand proud,” Aaron repeated the command in a low growl for the umpteenth time after delivering yet another sharp smack to the stubborn pony’s backside. “Stand still, Mandy, or I promise you we will be here all night until you learn to do so. I have nothing else to do but to teach you proper ponygirl behavior. And a ponygirl does not try to get away from her handler’s touch.” He deliberately pressed a thick finger between her nether lips, watching her reaction closely. Her teeth were clenched hard, which he knew had to hurt from her recent dental surgery, and tears of frustration and pain tracked down her face and onto her heaving bosom.