I could practically hear you tossing your head back and rolling your eyes. Though I admired that you were not dazzled every other second of my wealth and variety of properties from art to cars, this was something different for sure.

"Pony girls? Really, Sam?"

I motioned you to come closer to the barn - well, it was technically a barn, but nothing of sort to where farm animals were stored. Clean, large and mistakinly impossible to break in, our latest stall housed a fine creature. Lady Manners, reining champion of national dressage competition.

"Come on. They won't bite." I joked. Another eye roll. But I had your attention, and most of the women would at least pretend to be utterly disgusted of this sight.

Lady Manners whole body was wrapped in elaborate harness. A section of it barely covered her waist with snug corset, but otherwise her whole toned body was naked and shaved from neck below. Large brown eyes looked keenly towards our direction, and with head harness and blinders on, she had little choice. Across her shoulders and over the chest run two very tight straps, which connected to the utterly inescabable and tight arm binder. Her long legs seemed only much longer with hooves that extended over her knees. Her whole stance was restricted, yet very feminine, with arched back and pushed out chest.

And she was damn stunning woman. Had her life taken another turn, many men would've been swallowed to those brown puppy eyes and coy act.

With practiced motion, I loosened up the simple tie that her reins were attached to and lightly pulled her out to your vicinity. With light moaning and not so light drooling all over her perky bust, she soon stood in front of you. How her bit gag worked, well, some things are best to kept secret from impressionable women like you.

"What, you are trying to make me jealous now?" Hands close to your chest, leaned slightly back but eyes on the lovely creature, you managed to easen up the tension with small joke. I suppose I should answer that.

"Please, Anna. I have eyes only for you. Pony girls are not for dating, either. They are not even human beings, techinically."

"But they are." You answered back, looking at be questioningly.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Semantics. This one is a pony girl and that's what she is to the world, forever." Lady Manners eyes were looking down, with little reaction to the words. Or she at least focused on not having a reaction.

After observing you a bit, I made a suggestion. "Try to pet her. Just her flank. She does like it, don't you?" I said, speaking to the pony girl. One stomp followed.

As your hesitant hand reached out, trying to pretend you were not interested in this sexist practice, once the skin contact was made, she quite literally pushed herself against your hand. Her eyes had more emotion to them now, and goosebumps formed around her shapely thigh. Touch deprivation was the most common and effective way to domesticate a pony girl, after all.

"I think she likes you." I remarked with amusement, before tightening her reins a bit. "Shall we take it to the field?"

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Want to play co-dominant under my care to take care of these lovely, trapped souls?

Wish to perhaps slip into pony gear yourself and find your weekend getaway rather extended?

Have you spent ten years of your life tracking the family that kidnapped your mother into pony girl slavery, so that when finally you have seduced your way into my close circle you knock me out with well practiced kick that Mr. Miyagi himself in shame, and proceed to lock me in pony boy get up?

Whatever floats your boat, this is prompt for pony play and long term transformations, training and mental games associated with the kink. If the setting is perfect but you prefer some other pet play role, hit me up. I'm sure that'll work too.

Prompt open now and always, if you are reading it.