#Ponyplay

[2h0rny2think]

Thinking about being a royal pet.

Collared but it's covered in jewels. Leashed but it's made of gold.

I eat the finest meals out of a bowl on the ground. I spend my days sitting in front of the throne, suckling the royal cock.

The only clothes I'm permitted to wear are sheer and lacy, doing nothing to cover me.

When my master wants to fuck me, I'm teased and fingered by his servants until I'm open and desperate. When he's done with me, they'll clean me up, bathing me and dressing me and fingering me again to make sure I'm in good health.

Over and over, day after day, til all thoughts of rescue or escape have drained out of my ears.

I might as well be a dog.

Then when my beauty has faded and I'm too loose to bring pleasure, I'm sent to the knights. Then the servants. Then the dogs and horses and cattle.

Nothing but a pet.

[fury-fantasy]

[trojanponyworld]

[dollmaidcrystal]

The first day in the stable always requires the most adjustment.

(With Damazonia.)

[thecupsmith]

You know that Neil Gaiman is a great writer and storyteller, because he approaches this question seriously from a logistic, linguistic, and character level

Source

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[xissm2]

[smallangryram]

[snowbunny-alissa]

[ghost-pony]

took more pony photos 😇 twitter link

[dollmaidcrystal]

Little known fact: Tassels were originally added to ponygirl tack as an insect deterrent.

If the alternative is horseflies all over your sensitive nips, doesn't that make the clamps seem so much more reasonable?

With Little Slave Kitten.

[ramshacklegear]

Neon orange leather pony drone

(Buyer backed out unexpectedly so this hood will be available in the upcoming drop!)

[horny-ponygurl]

Oh to be a breeding pony: useful, pleasured and full.

You’re almost never removed from the breeding racks. Your once shiny rubber catsuit is now covered in grime and fluids, growing dirtier after every successive visitor to your booth.

Even underneath the stains, your gear is still very specialised: the suit that you were long ago stuffed into is incredibly thick and you can hardly feel anything through it. What’s more, handles are affixed strategically on your back atop your shoulder blades as well as on your hips; both locations provide a highly suitable location for any cruel owner, bash stallion, or even a mare with one of the many strap-ons to get a good grip while thrusting into you.

Further up your gear, your hood is of a very strange design: unlike the usual equine masks on the elegant ponygirls around the ranch, this one is modelled more after a gas mask. Twin corrugated hoses exit from two fittings on the front, leading down to a rebreather bag that swings loose below you, ready to be crushed or played with by any prospective partner. Further up the mask, tinted lenses leave you in perpetual darkness. However, the main feature of the mask is the large pink flesh-light that resides where the mouth should be. This ensures your kept nice and quiet at all times, while maintaining a nice tight hole for anyone who decides to make use of the front hole.

The back hole has had a similar treatment, for the first few months an inflatable plug was used to keep you filled and stop you from leaking between uses. However, after too many large cocks (and larger dildos), your arse hole became too stretched to be of an use to anyone, so a trainer came round one day and stuck a flesh-light up there. The ejaculations of countless visitors to your booth now run down you thighs, highlighted boldly against your black latex. Now you don’t even get the slight pleasure of being fucked, just the shame and filling sensation of such a large object taking permanent residence in your behind.

Undoubtedly however, your least favourite piece of tack is on your front, the only piece of exposed skin: your tight metal chastity cage. You’ve been in chastity for a long time at this ranch, but becoming a breeding mare meant saying goodbye to your package forever. On the first day, your trainer came to your booth with a small tube of superglue, and insured you would not be distracted from your duties again. Then of course, he inaugurated both your holes, the first of many to use you.

You feel the hard metal frame of the breeding rack underneath your knees and elbows, it is locked firmly to the leather harness that crisscrosses your bound body, holding your head and arse up and ready for use, while ensuring your compliance at all times.

Waking from your sleep-like stupor, you hear the distinctive clopping of the lead stallion’s hoof boots coming towards the barn, an incredibly talented racer and just as well endowed between the thighs. You brace your holes for the post-race party that is sure to begin, centring on your booth.

A little precum spurts from your cage. It will be a good night.

[cosmicthief]

My fav horsegirl

full

[smallangryram]

[testmule]

Ponyplay as exercise