Page 96 of Forfeits

I closed my eyes, trying to contain my emotions.

“Oh, my good, sweet pony,” Aiden murmured.

Something hard pressed against my lips.

“Open.”

I opened my mouth, and Aiden pushed the soft leather bit between my teeth, fitting the leather harness over my head and fussing with buckles. I kept my eyes closed. This was such a weird experience.

My breaths came in quick pants. I realized I was still dressed. I didn’t know what to do with my hands.

“Let me get this on then I’ll help you out of those silly clothes.”

When he’d gotten the bridle into place, he took the reins that dangled and looped them through the ring on the hitching post. Not tight, just enough to show me he wanted me to stay where I was.

Then he carefully undressed me. His fingers trembled as if he were as excited as I was to explore this new dynamic. He used wrist cuffs to attach my hands at the small of my back.

The bridle was a mind-fuck for sure. The bit made me feel tamed, and the weight of the ears ensured I didn’t forget about them.

Once I was naked and positioned where he wanted me, Aiden pulled the reins tighter through the hitch and knotted the ends, so that I stood directly at the wall, with about an inch or two to spare. I stared wide-eyed at the hitching post in front of me, the words on the sign combining with Aiden’s murmured endearments to remind me that I was a lowly animal, subject to my master’s wishes.

My mind spun with possibilities. Would he put a saddle on me and make me crawl around on all fours? Would he try to ride me as if I were an actual pony? The idea seemed ludicrous and impractical, and I hadn’t seen anything that looked like a saddle in this room.

The hiss of leather slicing through air, and Aiden’s soft words, brought me back to reality.

“Hmm, so many riding crops to choose from,” he said, and I remembered that ponies didn’t always receive gentle care.

I pulled on the reins and shuffled my feet, then attempted to look around, but my chin was immobilized by the hitch. So I stared straight ahead—my eyes wide, my cock hard—and waited.

Aiden dragged the leather tip of the crop over my body, tracing my shoulders and my back, my thighs and calves, my buttocks and hips, making me crazy with the teasing pressure.

“My pretty pony. So, so pretty,” he crooned. I thought I might die of embarrassment but floated on bliss and contentment. It was so nice to be praised, when so many of my efforts in the real world went unremarked.

Now and then he would tap the crop against my skin, and occasionally give me a sharp swat, solely to keep my attention.

By the time Aiden began to strike me in earnest, I was aching for it.

“Such a nice ass on my pony!” he said, his words making waves of excitement go through me. “But I need to bring some blood to the surface.”

The sting spread over my bottom and sent warmth throughout my body, like a low fire on a winter’s day. I closed my eyes and leaned into the discomfort in order to appreciate it.

Finally, Aiden stopped. He came close and kissed the shell of my ear, then laid a hand against my burning skin.

“Did you like that?”

“Yes, Sir,” I whispered, words somewhat garbled by the leather bit.

“Good. But something’s missing. I noticed it while I was whipping this beautiful ass.”

I waited in the same confined position while Aiden left me then returned, trailing something smooth and silky against the sensitive skin of my rear end. It felt like a wig of long hair, and I couldn’t parse it, unless it was a horse’s mane he planned to add to my costume.

Then a solid, rubbery lump bumped my thigh, and it seemed the hair was attached to that.

Oh, fuck me.

It was a tail. It was my tail. And Aiden’s words confirmed it.

“A pretty pony needs a tail,” he said, the excitement in his voice a palpable thing.

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