In my turmoil of the night before, I had forgotten to set an alarm, but the I luckyly for me, the soft touch of a hand on my shoulder filled in. As my mind was tugged up from the depth of slumber, my eyes cracked open to sunlight streaming through the window and the silhouette of a person hovering over me. After a moment for my eyes and brain to come into focus I realized my alarm clock as Isabella who now greeted me,
“Morn’ sleepyhead.”
My response was a much less dignified, “Hmmm”, which she was kind enough to ignore by continuing,
“It’s nearly 11. You were out cold all morning and I didn’t want to disturb you… buuuuut if you still want to try out being a ponygirl today you’ll need to get up.”
My mind with still fuzzy with dreams of the night before mingled with what felt like dreams. As such I found it rather difficult to follow Isabella’s greeting and I’m sure my face reflected that. But seemingly unperturbed by my bleary face she continued on,
“Isaw your note this morning, were you up late figuring it out?”
Finally, my brain began separating out the fact and fantasy of the night before. This came with the realization once again of what I had agreed to. Quickly sitting up in bed, I replied,
“Right… ummm, I said I would try that.”
“Yeah! Are you still on board? I know the middle of the night is a weird time. What seems like a great idea then, can look quite different in the light of day.
Looking up at Isabella’s face I saw only earnest excitement for me. My excursion out to Lily last night had been driven in part by my mistrust of her and Catherine. Well, maybe not mistrust, but a trust less than that required to surrender one’s autonomy so completely to another. But even now she still giving me an out at the 11th hour. In this moment, I knew I she would always give me that out.
“And you’ll be, you know… be the one pony-ing me today?”
“Yes… I wouldn’t call it that, but yes, I’ll be getting you in your tack. Plus you’ll require a lot of attention afterwards since it is quite a shift in how your body moves and works. I’ll be there to make sure it is as smooth as possible.”
“Okay… umm thanks for that. Or I guess thanks in advance.”
Beaming, “I’m more than happy to. It’s always such a treat to see a ponygirl take her first steps, but you’re welcome all the same.”
She ended this with a wink.
“And what about Lily? Don’t you normally take care of her?”
“Catherine’s taken over my duties for Lily’s care for the rest of the day. I did check in on her this morning and she seems quite chipper so I’m sure she’ll be fine with a slightly different day.”
Remembering my visit I blushed a wee bit hearing that Lily was in a good mood, and hoping I could lay some claim to its cause. But I quickly tried to cover this reaction as I wasn’t sure if Isabella would approve of my clandestine visit. Luckily she didn’t appear to notice as she went on saying
“You should also get to see Lily today since it’s good for new ponygirl to meet and bond with experienced ones.”
My stomach did a little twist of appreciation at how quickly Isabella had started thinking of me as a ponygirl. But before I could poller this feeling, Isabella answered by my stomach’s other call by handing me a smoothy.
“You’ll want a liquid breakfast for Today. I’ll leave so you can enjoy it in peace and to let you get washed up for today. Meet me downstairs when you’re ready and we can get started. Sound good?”
All I could manage was a shallow nod, but to which Isabella answered with her infected smile and light press on my supposed before she turned and strode out of the room. Once more leaving me alone but for yet new feelings and a different twist to in my stomach. In an effort to not confront these feelings I started working on my shake. Which despite all my internal disquiet I quickly found that I greatly enjoyed. Sipping away in bed, warmedby the sun, I pondered my day ahead.
But this moment was not to last as I soon finished and started to feel the pressure of the day. Conscious of Isabella waiting for me downstairs I quickly selected the first clothes I thought were coherent, a loose fitting te shirt and the jeans I had forgotten yesterday. I finished off my preparation by splashing the last of the sleep out of my face and raking my hand through my hair.
Pausing in front of the mirror I wasn’t sure what more I should do to get ready since in quite possibly a matter of minutes I would be striped naked. But I also didn’t want to show up looking like I didn’t care. I wasn’t totally sure what I feelings fully were towards her but they certainly weren’t apathy. Last night had taught me that. Either way I thought I could trust Isabella to tell me if I was missing anything. And with this thought in mind I hurried my way downstairs to her.
As we made our way out to the barn, I was finally able to get a look at the full scope of Sapphbrook Farm in the light of day. Past the barn extended a large field area ringed in by forest. Criss-crossing the field were white lines of fences, forming several paddocks and pathways. Squiting, in the distance end of the field, I could see a black dot bounding along across the open space of one of these areas. I guessed, or at least envisioned, this dot to be Lily out for a morning run. The thought that I would soon be running out there too made my body tingle, but before I had time to consider this reaction, Isabella was tugging me into the darkness of the barn.
Inside my eyes quickly adjusted and I once more saw the main corridor with the stalls I had by now become accustomed to. But it seemed this was not the destination Isabella had in mind as she lead me down the hall, past all the stalls, towards the back corner of the stable. There we came to a room with the label ‘Supplies’ on the door to which Isabella enthusiastically explained as we entered,
“Welcome to the tack room! Where women walk in and ponygirls walk out.”
Looking around, the walls were festooned with straws and buckles while the centre of the room was home to multiple stools and benches. As I spun around taking this all of it in, I felt Isabella’s hands come to rest gently on my shoulders, bringing me to a halt. She then rotated me back around to bring my face in line with her, now only an arms length distance. When she spoke, her voice was now much lower and softer,
“Of course you can also just walk out as you have just walked in. You’re not locked in, I know you are feeling conflicted about this so if you ever tip in the ‘no’ direction please just tell me.”
I could feel my tongue leader in my mouth at her question. Unable to reply right away I defaulted to studying Isabella’s face, inevitable setting on her eyes. I searched for my hint of dishonesty, of malice, but all I found there was care. Enough care inside her to carry me through becoming a ponygirl. But while those eyes gave me strength, they still didn’t give me a voice, so I resorted to nodding. Isabella smiled and replied,
“You’ve got the non-talking down for being a ponygirl, but before we start, I need you to use your voice. Are you sure you want to try this?”
My body finally responded to her direct command and I was able to speak. “Yes.” Granted it was barely a whisper but it seemed enough for her.
A smile spread wonderfully across Isabella’s face, and I feel a kick-back of warmth in my chest of a decision well made. This feeling seemed to overwhelm me was I suddenly felt my body dropping into her in an involuntary hug. Lowing her head, Isabella’s lips brushed my ear as she spoke,
“Alright darling. The first thing I need you do is take off all your clothes.”
Pulling away from our embrace, I looked back up at Isabella and nodded, before fully separating. I then reached down and gabbed the hem of shirt before abruptly freezing,looking back at Isabella standing there observing me caused my confidence to weaver. Sure I had agreed to try being a pony for them, for her, but undressing right in front of someone still felt oddly too intimate in the moment than I was prepared for. So after some seconds hesitation I turned around and proceeded to undress with my back turned. I did so quickly and mechanically, endeavouring to minimize this awkward time.
Now naked, and slightly chilled, I hugged my upper body with my arms. In contrast to my fury of motion a moment ago, I now was standing as still as I could, not daring to turn around. In my stillness I could also sense Isabella’s motionlessness. All except her eyes who feel gliding all across my backside. Marking out a path of tingling wherever they gazed. Then our moment and silence and stillness ended, broken by the soft pad of her foot steps as she approached.
She came to a stop right behind me, and before I expected it, her hands come into contact with my upper arms, causing me to slightly jolt. Silently she gave me a second to recover yet still reassuring me through the soft pressure of her hands. Then she slowly raised my arms up and away from my torso. An action I gave no resistance to and position I maintained when her hands left my skin.
There was a slight rustle of fabric as Isabella fished something out of her pocket and which I quickly discovered to be a tape measure as she wrapped it around chest. Positioned just above my breasts and threading beneath my armits. Pulled to the slightest pressure, I closed my eyes to this simulation of bondage, finding I was all too anticipating the real thing. Then the pressure was released as the tape measure was moved to another circuitry of my body.
As Isabella continued in her measurements of my body I heard her quietly muttering to herself the lengths and figures to herself. It was an odd combination of impersonal and intimate. As she reduced my body to a list of numbers while at the same deeply examining my body to a level no else had.
Slowly and deliberately, she worked her way around my body, all with the fearest of touches. Then apparently satisfied, took a step back for a moment. I imagined this was to take in my naked form one last time before she would redress me. Then finally I heard her steps received off into the room.
Still standing stock still, in trepidation and Anticipation, refusing or unable to look, all I could do to track Isabella by the pattern of her footsteps back and forth across the room. These mixed with the jangle of straps and harnesses being collecting and prepared for me. Then it stopped. The silence felt like a blow to my chest after the pleasant kind of mediation induced by listening to Isabella work. But it seemed I couldn’t live only in a soundscape as Isabella called to me,
“You can’t keep hiding yourself in the corner if you want to be a ponygirl you know. You’ll have to show everything off eventually, but I would very much love if you show yourself off as you are to me before we get started.”
Transfixed by her voice, and much like her hands raising my arms, I found myself instinctively following her requests. Thus, without a second thought, but many second feelings, I turned to face her. She stood in the centre of the room beside a small table piled high with leather and straps, on which she idly rested one hand. The other she raised and crocked her finger to me, beckoning. And a like a horse called by her master I compiled, I began walking towards her.
I hope I looked good doing so, or at least I wanted and tried to, but this was all new to me. Although my best efforts at sensitive performance, I found my legs stiff and my upper body all too floppy. The only light in my awkwardness was the growing heat in Isabella’s eyes which seemed to only get brighter as I drew nearer. Then only a few paces away, the cooling wave of her voice,
“How you doing?”
“I’m… oky.”
This was true, but only as an average of extremes between excitement and trepidation.
“But… I feel ready.”
“Alright then, shall we begin ponygirl.”
“Yes.”
With this, Isabella pick up the first of her harnesses and after some work to untangle it, held up to my torso. Then as she looped it around my body so its front straps came to rest above and below my breasts, finally she cinched off by securing the straps around on my back. Now secured, I found these breast straps to give a modicum of support, and I would soon discover the only support of near coverage my breasts would be provided with.
Next a pair of straps were brought down between my legs, for which I tensed up with her sudden personal closeness. Isabella sensing this, reassuringly gave a stroke to my thigh and glanced up at me from her position knelt between my legs. This image short cut my mind from any feelings of embarrassment allowing Isabella to resume threading the straps between my legs. I lacked a line of sight to her work, but I felt Isabella manipulate my labia as she position one stick on each side of my slit. Each one applying some pressure and puffing out my lips while simultaneously framing them.
Isabella rose from her crouch and held me by my shoulders. Looking into my eyes, she said,
“You’re doing great.”
Before guiding me to spin around to present my back to her. With the same tender touch, she pulled my arms behind me until they were parallel to one another, from my elbows to my wrists. At this point she paused,
“This will be the first step of really restricting your movement. Are you okay with losing use of your arms or do you want to take a break?”
“No, I’m fine.” Still thrumming from her manipulation of my lower parts, I wanted to keep going on that wave. “I’m actually doing pretty good… this feels nice.”
“Wonderful…” Isabella replied as she leaned in to place a soft touch of her lips at the base of my neck.Then drawing back only slightly, as I could still feel her breath, one hand released my arms. She maintained a secure grapp on me as she reached back to pick up several shorter straps from her collection. With expert precision, all the while keeping hold of me, and her breath on my neck, she fastened a series of straps down my arms. From my elbows, to my forearms, to wrists. Turning two arms into one, and forcing my Shoulders back to compensate. This worked to push out my chest, which to my delight, gave a more prominent jut to what I had always thought to be a rather meager chest.
To my surprise, this was not the extent of Isabella restraining my arms. Once the last strap was fixed, she picked up an oddly shaped single sleepe. This she slide up my arms, it stretched slightly to form a perfect encouragement of my arms. Once it had reached all the way to my shoulders, transforming my arms into a single black tube, Isabella attached the sleepe onto my harness, further anchoring armsto my body and yet further reducing my ability to move them. Something I found out quickly, and to surprising pleasure, as I tested by new bounds by wiggling my arms. Or rather trying to wiggle my arms and instead twisting my whole upper body.
Standing up, Isabella wrapped her arms around me and spun me back around to face her. Now lacking the normal access to my arms this caused me to stumble slightly. But this stumble was only into Isabella’s waiting arms. Waiting there, ready to catch and steady me. Looking up into her face, this time I got to be the one to light up her face with my smile.
The next instrument of my ponygirl-ification was the head harness. An aspect of the uniform I remembered most vividly from meeting Lily. Much the same as the harness, Isabella began by wrapping and strapping many length of leather around my head. To my surprise, she did not go onto attaching a gag into my mouth. She explained this oversight,
“I’m leaving your bit for last. It’squite a decisive change to give up your voice so I’m keeping that for the end.”
“Okay, so then what is next?”
Isabella smiled, “The next biggest change.”
She directed me to a padded benchmark, onto which she bent me over so my chest lay against the padding and my legs and bottom hung off the end. She then secured this position by a couple of straws looping over my upper body and holding it down upon the benchmark. This left only my legs free with my toes only barely able to touch the ground. A side effect of this was reducing me once more to having to rely on my hearing to follow Isabella’s movements. This started by the sound of her foot steps receiving from the bench and was followed up by the clomp of her rummaging for something.
Returning, Isabella lifted up my right foot and began sliding my leg into a Leathery tube. After a moment I realize it was the shake of a high knee boot. As the insole reached my foot, I found them wanting to fit very much like high heels,quite step heels in fact, as my toes were forced down onto a point far below my heel. This finally made me connect that these boots were likely the same unique design of horse hoof heeled footwear I had seen on Lily.
Bu now having my foot situationd within one it felt far more daunting than how natural Lily had made them look. With my foot fully situated inside, Isabella let my leg down so the sole, or rather I guessed it would be a hoof, come to rest on the ground. Now with the extra height the first thing I noticed was that my leg was not longer hanging off the side of the benchmark but instead able stand comfortable. In fact that whole leg was far more comfortable than I expected, including my now angled foot. Instead of the wobbly stilt like quality I knew from the cheap high heels I had tried before, these made my foot feel secure and supported.
Now that my foot was fully ensconced within the boot, Isabella set to work securing it there. Starting from about where my anklewould be, she began threading and tightening the laces, working her way all the way up the boot, ending just below my knee. This took a good deal of time as she put a great effort into ensuring a snug fit. This was interspersed with her checking with me that it wasn’t verging into discomfort.
In fact as she worked, I found the boot to become ever more comfortable. The meticulous nature process feeling near meditative. It felt as though Isabella was bonding the boot to my leg. Fusing the sturdy leather to my skin and at the same time extending it as a new layer itself. Far more than I thought possible through the leather’s thickness, I could intimately feel Isabella’s fingers working with intensity and precision along this new second skin.
Once satisfied with her efforts, she released by leg back to my own control. I proceeded to use this semi-freedom to test out my new relationship with the ground. Raising and setting down my foot, my hoof, clumping it tenatively on the floor. Getting acquainted with its how placed itself on the ground. Consumed with this experimentation, I at first only distantly noticed Isabella had begun gently caresing my butt.
Upon recognizing her contact, I found it to be quite soothing. A familiar touch as I figured out my new footing. Thus, to the amount I could, I leaned into, to better present my bottom to her for her ministers. My enthusiasm was evictly picked up on, as Isabella redoubled her touches, as well as expanding them. Drift lower from my backside to tantalizingly circle the area where my legs met.
But then my brain seemed to stubbled. My focused snapped away from focusing on the touches and sensings around my lower body, to a higher view. One that took in my situation, harnessed up and tied down, one boot into Pretending I was a pony, and now getting worked up by the same person doing all this to me. It was a view of my situation from a ‘normal’ perspective, a view I ought to have. This caused me to stop my reciprocation of Isabella’s attentions, now catch up in self-reflection and self-criticism.
For her part, Isabella quickly caught on to this as well, stopping and removing her hands. Then before I knew it, she had circled around the bench, her face popping in my field of vision. Concern wrote into its lines.
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