My Pony Boy — an erotic tale - NSFW
A mature equestrian discovers a new kink, in the form of a virile stable boy who loves to play horse.
I sip from my hot coffee mug as I stare out the window towards the rolling pastures of my Ocala farm. The morning fog shrouds the view, and the form of two lone horses are barely visible as they graze close to the fence.
It’s mornings like this that make me grateful and fill me with a sense of longing. My farm used to be hopping with life as students and boarders came and went, enjoying my farm and horses. These pastures and barns exploded with everything equine, and it had been the premier place to be if you were a horse lover back then.
But everything must end. My husband and business partner left me for a younger equestrian and at the age of fifty, I decided I needed peace and quiet over a busy barn. Maybe I let my ex-husband and his plucky new girlfriend steal my passion. Maybe it was just time for me to enjoy myself and my horses.
It’s been two years and while I have enjoyed the peacefulness of my empty farm, I haven’t really done much with my two remaining horses. I haven’t ridden or hooked up my pony cart or even taken the time to find a new love interest.
Movement in the fog catches my eyes as I lift my coffee to my lips. Jonathon, my weekend stable boy, approaches Flip and Sorry, still grazing nose to nose some fifty feet away.
I move my body to the side of the window, shielding myself from view as my lips turn up in a soft smile. He has no idea he’s being watched as he pulls off his shirt and discards it on the thick grass.
I lower my coffee mug and reach for the binoculars I recently started keeping on the side table next to this window. I find him in the lens and discover I missed watching him remove his boots. But as he walks towards my two lone horses, he’s about to reveal the best part of his morning ritual.
The first time I saw him do this, I thought he was some vile horse molester. My body tightened in anger as I waited for him to begin my perceived horrid offense on one of my geldings. I’d catch him in the act and horsewhip him within an inch of his life before I called the police.
But he never once touched my horses inappropriately, even as he stripped his clothing and became fully naked in my pasture.
I lift my eyes from my binoculars to judge my horse’s reaction as Jonathon’s twenty-year-old body jogs toward them. And what a body it is. Toned, fit, and tanned. His sleeping cock flops freely from side to side as his thighs pump faster towards the horses. My body tightens with a different feeling than the first time I watched him run with my horses.
Flip is the first to startle and flag his tail playfully. I can’t hear him blowing through his nostrils from here, but I’ve heard that sound from the small Welsh pony so many times my mind fills in the blanks. Sorry’s tail lifts and soon both horses are trotting with that floaty trot of a horse, enjoying the good life.
Jonathon’s feet also float as he mimics the horse’s movements. Knees kick high, toes pointed as he springs into each step. Flip bucks and starts galloping circles around the naked man. Jonathon laughs, his mouth falling wide with pleasure as he skips along with Flip.
My horses adore Jonathon. They adopted him right into the herd the moment they felt his free spirit. They aren’t intimidated by his floppy human cock, and this isn’t sexual for the man. He’s just enjoying the good life, right alongside my horses.
I’ve sexualized the viewing of this little morning ritual, though. My body throbs as I focus more on the man than the horses. The way he moves, so gracefully, is beautiful. My hand travels down my night shirt and slips under my panties.
Already soaked and throbbing.
Fingertips swirl around my clit as pleasure zings through my body. I lower my binoculars to the side table as I imagine Jonathon looking up at the window and spotting me, masturbating to his nudity. A look of determination settles over his features as he marches towards the house, not bothering with his clothing.
My back door slams open and his bare feet track sand into my living room as he stomps over to where I’m standing. As I continue to watch the horses in the fog, he pulls my panties off and replaces my fingers with his hot, slick tongue. Licking at me from behind as I bend at the hips and spread my legs for him, like a mare in heat.
My fingers work my clit harder, faster now. Driving my body to the pinnacle in a heady rush as my imagination takes our relationship across a red line. I can’t help the gasp that leaves me as my orgasm rips through me. It’s sharp, intense and is over way too quickly.
When I finally focus back down on the pastures, Jonathon is gone. His clothing and boots picked up out of the grass and he’s gone to work in the barns. The horses back to grazing nose to nose in a different spot of the pasture.
Like nothing ever happened down there.
Nothing to see here, either.
Miss Tracy doesn’t remember me from when I used to come for riding lessons as a kid. She hadn’t been my instructor at the time, so I don’t know why disappointment settled through me when I mentioned I used to ride here years ago, and she shrugged it off. “Lots of kids got their start here back in the day. It’s just Tracy now.”
She may not remember me, but I’ll never forget the mistress of the barn. The lady of the stables and her authoritative demeanor. I both feared and adored her throughout my riding career.
Career, like I was a superstar in the hunt seat world or something. I’d only had a few summers and one horse show before my parents decided it was too expensive, but those two summers had been the best I can remember. I had my first kiss in the stall down the way when I was thirteen. Got all the way to second base with Vicky before my last summer here ended.
Those days, when it was okay to play horse, laugh about stupid things and just be free, seem like ages ago. Kids have to grow up and become adults. I’m in college now, studying to become a large animal vet.
One thing will never change, though. I will never, ever address Miss Tracy by just her first name. I have way too much respect for the woman who ran this place. The woman who now owns my fantasies and dreams.
“Jonathon, I thought I asked you to get the little red pony cart out and check the tires.” Even as her husband broke her spirit by running off with one of the young riding instructors she called friend, her voice is full of authority.
“I did, Miss Tracy. I just put it back.”
“Well, pull it back out, to the yard and get Flip’s harness ready.”
“Yes, Miss Tracy.” She’s long finished correcting me. I’ll do anything for her but call her by her first name only. Besides, adding that prefix before her first name makes me feel shameful things. Things a man shouldn’t feel or do. But I feel them, and I fantasize about her using that crop that she’s tapping on her tall boots on my bare ass.
My gaze lingers on the tip of the crop as I imagine her ordering me to strip nude, right here in the middle of the barn. Oh God, if she ordered me to the hay room to lay face down on a prickly bale while she lit me up with that whip for being a bad boy, a naughty pony.
“Jonathon?”
I jump into action. “Right away, Miss Tracy.”
She watches me pull the two wheeled pony cart out of its storage area closely. Keen eyes trace my body, slowly. I swear I can feel them caressing down my arms to my hands, gripping the shaft as I pull the cart out of the barn.
The serene look on her face as her head tilts has my dick thickening inside my jeans. I’ve caught her staring at me, watching me from her window as I strip and free my inner equine every morning.
I know she masturbates while watching me sometimes. She gets that same far off look on her face right before she reaches between those lovely legs and starts stroking herself.
As I bring the pony’s harness out, I say, “I can’t believe you still have this old cart, Miss Tracy. I remember us kids pulling each other around the property during summer camp.”
She sighed thoughtfully. “I remember you, Jonathon. You loved being the pony for all the girls.”
Flip, the real pony, had his own ideas about being hooked up to the cart. He wasn’t having it. Miss Tracy’s shoulder slumped in defeat. “I should have known better than to think old Flip would be happy about toting me around suddenly after all this retirement time.”
She scratched the unhappy pony’s withers and sighed. “Turn him back out, Jonathon, he’s earned his rest.”
The utter failure in her voice had me meeting her gaze and holding it. “I’ll be your pony, Miss Tracy.”
She froze, and I urged, “Please, it would be fun. Let me pull you around, just like old times.”
She barked a laugh and my heart beat double time in anticipation of her rejection. “Old times? Nobody ever gave me a human pony cart ride back then.”
“Then today is your day.”
I smiled brightly as she considered it. “I’m too old for this nonsense.” She waved a hand, dismissing the notion.
“Too old? Are you kidding me? You are a woman in the prime of your life. Too gorgeous to be put out to pasture. Play with me, Miss Tracy. Let me help you live again.”
I ended with a gulp. My eyes flared wide. I can’t believe I blurted all that out. It’s my secret truth, but what would she do now? What would she say?
She was silent for so long I started to squirm. Then she strode forward and gazed in my eyes. My cock strained against my jeans. “Take off your shirt.”
I pulled off the t-shirt and she let her gaze drop to my chest and then to the bulge in my pants. It was everything I could do to keep from covering myself with both hands. I’d laid it all out, and she needed to see how I felt about her.
Her hand lifted, twisted and cupped my erection. “Is it the thought of pulling the cart that is creating this reaction or something else?” She traced up my erection, feeling me through my jeans.
When she reached the tip, she gave me a little squeeze, and I thought I’d pass out. “I want to be your pony, Miss Tracy. I want to pull your cart. I want you to whip me if I displease you. Treat me like you own me. Touch me if you desire. Fuck me. I want to please you. Worship your body. Anything and everything.”
She gasped as my confession tumbled from my lips. Her voice trembled as she replied, “Then I think you need to pass inspection, Pony Boy. I need to make sure your sound and fit enough for my carriage.”
“Yes, Horse Mistress.” My hands trembled wildly as I unfastened my jeans and kicked off my boots.
Her lips twitched up at my honorific, but she quickly gained control as my cock exploded onto the scene. She tisked. “Shamefully erect.” Her hand wrapped around my dick, and she swiped a thumb across the tip, collecting the bead of precum there and smearing over the head. I shuddered at the pleasure that raced through me.
“Come, I’ll need to crosstie you.”
She led me by my dick to the crossties. I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep myself under control. All my fantasies are coming true right now and I’m overly excited. I just might lose control in her hand.
She turned me to face out of the grooming and wash stall before dropping my pulsing erection and picking up the chain hanging against the wall. “Whoa, stand.”
There are two chains in a crosstie stall and normally they are attached to each side of the halter to keep them steady for grooming and tacking up. She takes the clip off the end of the chain and shortens it so that it will wrap around my wrists with both arms stretched out.
My heart raced as I was secured with the chains. She turns to me with a smile and croons, “Good boy. Now, how long has it been since you’ve serviced a mare?”
Her hand cups my balls, weighing them.
“Six months, Horse Mistress.” My voice was barely a shaky whisper.
“But you drain this cock often, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
She raised one exquisite eyebrow, and I quickly amended, “Horse Mistress Tracy.”
“Just for that, you will not touch your penis all week except to wash it. No releases until the weekends.” Her restrictions on my balls as she held them forced a long groan from my throat.
She stepped back, releasing me. My balls felt full and heavy without her support. The tip of my cock throbbed with need as she stepped behind me. I dropped my gaze to my pulsing member.
Her hand travel from my shoulders to my ass in a gentle caress. “Spread your legs.”
I obeyed even as my brain perked with alarm. Her fingers slid through my buttocks. “Have you ever been mounted here?” She pressed against my puckered hole as I hissed a long moan.
“No Horse Mistress Tracy.”
“Shame. I had you pegged for one who bats for the other team.”
“I’ll bat anything for you, Horse Mistress.”
She added an ounce of pressure to my anus. Massaging it slowly. I pushed back against her fingers, giving her permission to invade my body if that was her wish.
She didn’t. “I’ll have to take some time to think about how to fit you for a tail.”
Oh my God, she wants to play with me again? “I have a tail. It fits a harness I wear at home when I masturbate.”
“Well, since you won’t be shamefully masturbating in horse gear at home, bring your items tomorrow and show me how you play with yourself.”
My face heats as I imagine putting on a pony show for Miss Tracy. It will be deliciously humiliating. “Yes, please…”
I hear the pop of the crop before it registers as a sharp flash of pain on my ass. I flinch and twist in the crossties. “Horse Mistress!” My dick immediately pulses harder, the tip dripping my need onto the concrete floor. I’m nearly out of my mind with the need to cum. “Please, Horse Mistress. Spank me harder.”
“Yes, I do believe discipline is what this naughty pony needs right now. But first, let’s use the traffic light colors as our safe word. You do know what the colors mean, yes?”
I nodded and groaned before reciting the colors used for the safe words.
She starts immediately. “Stand still. If you dance around, you’ll be punished longer and harder.”
The sound of her crop slapping my bare ass and licking heat down the backs of my thighs had me dancing, no matter how hard I tried to behave. My erection swung wildly as I twisted and shouted my sweet misery.
She held nothing back and just when I felt she’d never stop spanking me, my body tightened, and my cock exploded with orgasm. I shook with the force of it, even though it waned immediately, ruined as I thrusted into thin air.
I sagged against the chains, holding my arms wide. “I’m sorry, Horse Mistress.” I cried under a heated face of shame.
She nuzzled against my neck as she fisted my softening cock gently. Her hand stroked me slowly, and I hissed at the sensation. It felt good to have her hand on my shaft, cupping and holding it, but the moment her thumb passed over my tip, it was electric. I whimpered as she toyed with me.
“That’s okay, Pony Boy. I’ll train you to stand firm during punishment. You’ll be magnificent in your endurance soon.”
She let me go and stood in front of me as she unbuttoned her blouse. Her lush tits spilled out, and I squirmed in my restraints. My ass felt inflamed as it throbbed in time with my heartbeat. She pulled her lush brown hair out of the high ponytail she had it in. It spilled down her soft skin and lie around her shoulders and breasts.
My eyes drank in the sight. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Miss Tracy.”
“Rule number two. No lying to me, young man.”
“I wouldn’t think of it, Miss Tracy.”
She smiled as she recognized the honesty on my face. Then she treated me by removing her tall boots and breeches. I licked my lips as my gaze focused on the cleft between her legs.
She removed my restraints, one by one, and said, “Get on your knees.”
I fell to the rough concrete, and she spread her legs for me. Her hands fisted my hair and pulled my face to her slick pussy. I inhaled her heady scent right before I parted my lips and stuck out my tongue. She used the hold on my hair to grind her clit against my mouth. I whimpered loudly as I did my best to increase her pleasure.
She tossed her head back and came all over my mouth and I felt like more of a man than I ever had. I wasn’t less of a man because I wanted to be a pony too.
I wasn’t weak because I enjoyed submission.
I found Heaven between her legs. Her clit gave me purpose. She freed me today. I’m finally able to live my fantasy.
I’m her Pony Boy for life.
Thank you for reading my story. I write niche equestrian erotica on Medium.
I also write spicy dark romance under the pen name A.M. Proctor in multiple genres. Stalk me on social.
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