Ponygirl & The Aliens

By

Karen Anne Summerfield

Writing as

Cynetta Cynthia Cynclaire

© January 1999

____________________________________________________

 

What have you done to me! I tried to shout at the two strange women standing over me. I couldn't, though I moved my mouth and nothing filled it to prevent me from speaking. Nothing but the light sound of air moving between my lips and tongue could be heard. My second attempt was no more successful.

With slow, almost robotic, movement, one of the strange women reached her shiny-gloved hand to my face. It was cold. Metal fingers gently closed my gapping jaw and passed over my lips to close them. Her hand was metal!

These two were strange in two ways. First they were strangers, I did not know them. They were strange too, in that they looked like no others I'd seen before. They definitely looked female, but with the same highly polished, reflective, metallic skin, covered all of them that was visible, as on the hand of the one who had touched me. The two looked identical from their bald, metallic skulls, to their breasts and long, shapely legs.

I had to be dreaming. Either I was dreaming or I was dead and had gone to heaven.

I'm Robert Myers; at least I was Robert Myers. You may have heard of me or, more likely, have seen my work. I'm what might be called a 'fetish illustrator'. If you don't know me, perhaps you have mistaken my work for Hajime Sorayama’s; we both use the same style to illustrate gynoids or female androids and other lovelies.

*****

I had been driving back to my studio home in Upstate New York alone, very late at night. I'd just spent three weeks with Kinetta, my favorite model. I'd filled one bag with the film I'd exposed of her, as well as, three pads of sketches to use for my next book.

Kinetta, after living together with me for almost two years, had decided that we'd too little in common to spend the rest of our lives with each other, so we split. We retained a great friendship and, quite important to my career, a great working relationship. Beyond our mutual love of kink, we'd as little in common as our height. Kinetta was short, at five foot, if she stretched. I'm six inches taller, at five-six.

Lying still, flat on my back, my waist, torso and crotch felt compressed, tightly compressed. My chest felt like huge weights were pressing on it. When I tried to move, the weights on my chest felt like two mounds of half-set Jell-O™ - sloshing about. Trying to sit, I discovered that I could not bend from the top of my legs to above the weights on my chest. One of the gynoids grasped my wrist in her metallic hand and pulled me up. As soon as I rose off my back, those weights pulled down from my shoulders. I had breasts? Huge breasts! I do mean they were huge!

A glance down confirmed what I felt dragging down from my shoulders. They were the size of volleyballs! Protruding in front and slightly upward, the dark aureoles were like someone had sliced a softball in half and implanted each half behind the thumb sized nipples that further stuck outward from their centers.

This was just too unreal! I had to be dead, but this wasn't Heaven, this was Hell!

Kinetta, as I stated, was my favorite model. My first book, using her, was entitled, Cynetta Becomes a Slavegirl. The planned book, a sequel, had a working title of, Slavegirl Cynetta Becomes Ponygirl Cynetta! Many of the illustrations filling my three pads depicted Kinetta as the ponygirl in my planned book. The film I'd exposed in thousands of poses, contained images to provide me with references for the finished illustrations for the upcoming book.

I raised my right hand to move the huge melons on my chest out of the way so I could see past them and see why I felt so compressed and was so rigid. If I could have screamed, I was doing it with all my power, no sound came from my lungs despite the force I put into emitting it. I no longer had a hand! In its place, at the end of my arm, I had a hoof! It was a black hoof, just like the ones I'd drawn on Kinetta's arms. It was black, hard and almost insensitive to feeling and touch, much like fingernails.

Still, I used it to nudge my huge breasts apart. I had to raise my left fore hoof also, to finally part them. My eyes felt strange when I raised them to look at the two gynoids. I know - it was my imagination playing tricks, but I imagined satisfied grins on their expressionless, metallic faces.

I was encased in what appeared to be the same, polished metal that formed their skins from the tiny cups, lifting the huge breasts I now had, to my hips. There, it narrowed to form a front shield that narrowed and passed through my crotch. I could feel, as I sat, that a rigid strap pressed my cheeks wide apart over my anus and followed the crack between them to rejoin the metal corset that had been placed about my torso. What else had they done to me?

My gaze returned to my breasts. Kinetta had her nipples pierced and wore thin, one inch silver rings through them. I had always exaggerated these to a larger diameter of thicker rod and added rings, nearly three inches across and a quarter inch thick, through the protruding aureoles when I drew her while enlarging and exaggerating her breasts. Thankfully, they hadn't ringed me. The illustrations also showed the character to have a pierced septum, double pierced tongue and multiply ringed, ponygirl ears.

My ears! They, like my eyes, felt different! Moving the small hooves to the sides of my head confirmed my fear. They were higher and probably upright, pony ears from what I could tell. My examination turned to my feet. My fears were confirmed there too! They were also hooves now.

When I placed these on the metal floor, the gynoids pulled my fore hooves to help me stand, holding my arms until I gained my balance on my hooves. The hooves arched my feet to the extreme, like I was standing on just my toes, as if I were wearing ballet boots, en-pointe, forcing me to bend my knees. The stretching of my calf muscles caused too much pain if I tried to straighten them. I felt something else on the back of my legs. A tickling sensation, as if hair was brushing my skin with my slightest movements. They couldn't have?

They had! I'd a long tail!

Just standing between the gynoids, I tried to remember what had happened.

*****

As I've said, it was late, maybe one o'clock in the morning, as I drove home. I'd left Kinetta's place a half hour before and still had an hour's drive ahead of me before I could get some much needed rest.

No, I had not fallen asleep behind the wheel. There had been an unusual light - green, almost neon chartreuse, which had appeared ahead in the sky.

This was moving and seemed to match my speed. I remember staring up, straining for a better view whenever the trees along the road parted enough. The rough jouncing when the tires left the pavement snapped my attention back where it should have been. It was too late to do anything about the large tree, perhaps thirty feet ahead, that was rushing at fifty miles an hour toward my van.

*****

One of the gynoids touching my forearm brought me back to the present.

She was beckoning me to move toward the other one. Very unsteadily, I started to, despite how difficult just standing upright was for me. They took hold of my arms, not forcing or hurrying me, but just to aide in maintaining some semblance of upright - without falling. A section of the glowing wall parted to reveal a dark tube that began to glow with that same green light as I had seen before the crash.

It was not that long of a distance that I had to walk before another section parted, opening the way to a chamber. The walls inside glowed with a more customary, soft white light. Inside was a table, stools surrounding it and three who appeared almost human. Humanoid is more descriptive, as they were bilaterally asymmetrical, with two of all of the things you expect. One appeared male and the other two female. They rose from their stools as I approached.

"Vould you care to sit, Cynetta?" Strange, he spoke halting English with a strong Northern European accent. Sitting, would be far preferable to the pain in the back of my legs. "I must to you apologize. Ve meant no harm to creature of this sphere, still you have suffered mostly."

Trying to speak yielded the same results as on my initial attempts, nothing. I looked at what lay on the table separating us. A very thick stack of photographs, the top one was Kinetta fully decked out in ponygirl tack, including her latex hood with ears, forelocks and a cream mane to the top of her corset harness in back and full makeup. My sketchpads were there, some seemed singed from fire. Next to these, was all her tack. Some of the stainless hardware was damaged, twisted and fused; the leather of it was charred and burned completely away in places. The female on my left spoke with the same accent.

"Prime Giver Jarone hast told you, ve intend to you no harm un your sphere. Ve have tried correct to from your collision damage to your body, Cynetta." She opened one of my pads and turned to a fantasy picture I had intended as possibly the cover illustration for my book. It was much more developed and in full color. Most of the others were just graphite sketches.

"Dis ist how you vould be to look. Ve have done best making dis zo, for you, Cynetta." They couldn't have! Still, the preliminary examination I had made told me that they had done exactly that!

"Vorkers are making new, the jewelry an garments for you. Vhen time it, ve vill fit to you. To make you comfortable." The male smiled, obviously quite pleased with himself and their accomplishments. He reached under the robe he wore, smiling more. "Dis ve have finish. Marka make you most happy, fit you to now."

I shook my head 'no'! What he passed to the other female was the steel collar that Kinetta wore through the weeks we had just spent together working on this project. I silently cursed. Trying to prolong the high I'd experienced from working with my beautiful ex-lover, I had been wearing that collar at the time of my accident.

"I am please dis make you happy so, Cynetta." Yes, damn him! He certainly was pleased. I was not!

I was also too weak to stop the female behind me from encircling my neck. As the over two inch wide band of metal closed, I tried to push her hands away, but it was too late. The new collar closed too tightly about my neck. I did not feel or sense the edges come together. Desperately I raised my hooves to the collar, feeling the four large swivel rings. There was nothing I could do then, to remove it.

"Ve have ability to return time. When ve finish repair wrong, our study of your sphere be cause, ve vill place you vhere found you at your transport. Apologize I, ve can not to make that so as vas before, Cynetta."

 

*****

 

The early morning air was very cold and I had nothing to wrap about me for warmth. Just as he had promised, I was now standing next to the ton of mangled and charred steel that had once been my van. I was fully fitted out as Cynetta the Ponygirl, duplicating, in the flesh, the illustration of her that I had made. I could no more change my situation than I could cause that glowing light that had vanished in the sky to reappear.

I had no concept of how long I had been on their spacecraft. It had been long enough to gain the strength and ability to stand and walk easily without the pain I had first experienced. The pain through my torso from the extreme compression of the metal corset and chastity belt they had placed on me would not begin to subside for quite sometime. The intense sensations in my breasts and the sex they had created under the metal covering my crotch, I'd learn would only intensify - never subside.

From what I could feel and figure out, the inner surface of the crotch piece was contoured just like it's outer one. My inner and outer labia were separated and spread open a couple of inches with a hollow, oval shaped tube inserted at least seven inches up into my orifice. What they had created for my ultra sensitive clitoris, was surrounded in a cavity, but did not touch its surfaces. I cursed my fantasy for making several very detailed sketches of what I was fitted with now.

True to my drawings, my clitoris was pierced horizontally and a ring two inches in diameter inserted. This passed through a hole on each side of the cavity. Though it could never be pulled, the heavy ring was free to pivot in these holes and move up and down with my movements. By itself, the ring would have been enough to create maddening sensations, but never enough to push me over the top. It was not enough. Attached to the ring was a loud bell on two links.

The sheer size of the breasts I'd illustrated and the disproportionate aureoles and nipples on them had not been enough for my over active fantasies either. These fantasizes had made me quite rich, they sold my work, now I was living them and they were no longer any fun. My aureoles each bore a quarter inch thick, three-inch ring fitted with a bell identical to the one that bumped the tops of my thighs. My thumb-sized nipples were not exempted from fantasy fulfillment either.

My nipples had been fitted with truncated cones of thin metal rods. A thin ring at the base passed through the base of my nipple and held the cone's base to my aureole. The four rods supported a much smaller, circular top and a ring on its under side passed through my nipple there, stretching the nipple out. The tops of these cones were small enough to constrict the flesh that had been forced through them so that it formed into three quarter inch balls beyond the cones. Hanging from the outer rings, was a bell on each, smaller than the others.

True to my artistic creations, I had a ring through my septum that hung to the middle of my now exaggerated, black, upper lip. At least that ring did not have a bell, but the uppermost of the ten rings in each ear did and the one through the center of the cavity in my left pony ear, had a two inch, metal disk engraved "Ponygirl Cynetta" in black filled, ornate letters. The right front of my collar, between the front and side ring was inscribed the same with larger letters.

For some time, I just stared at what used to be my van. Even if it were in one piece again, I'd never be able to drive it. Even if I still had hands and feet, I could not drive. I bore metal cuffs about my wrists and ankles now. Those on my wrists were locked together with my fore hoofs pointing up and the short chain from that lock connected to the back of the collar so they stayed there in reversed prayer position.

From a ring, just below the base of my tail, a chain with a ring on its end, hung to below my knees and a chain from one ankle cuff passed through that ring to the other cuff. At least the keys to these locks hung from my left breast ring on a simple snap clip.

I was cold. I needed to do something. The only thought I had was to somehow make my way the twenty-five miles, or so, to Kinetta's. If there was any other option, I did not know it. I was determined to cover as much of the distance before it grew light and then hide until it got dark again. I needed to do something else - find water. I was terribly thirsty.

I trotted on the road, scurrying into the brush and crouching to hide whenever I saw the lights or heard a car approaching. One thing I had very quickly discovered, even on the spacecraft, was how very loud I was with the slightest of movements. Before they had chained my hooves up behind, true to my sketches and many of the photographs of Kinetta, I had discovered there was no way to silence all the bells on my body. I could hold one hoof to quiet the bell now bumping my thighs and the bell on one nipple, or one ear. I could quiet only two of them at once, but never the other three at the same time.

Even standing perfectly still, just the rapid breathing forced by the metal corset caused my breasts to jiggle and quiver and the bells fixed there to tinkle. The chain links fastening them were long enough so they hung to freely swing about in any direction they chose to. None of my bells are what you think of a harness bells, sleigh or jingle bells, but real, bell, bells. Were the bells not fitted to my rings, I still made noise. There was the tinkling of the ankle chain, as it bounced and slid through the back chain then there was the noise my metal shod hooves made as they contacted the pavement of the road. Yes, following my ideas, I had been shod with thick, steel pony shoes nailed to each of my four hoofs.

Even before these had been nailed on, my bare hooves were loud. They sounded hollow - but I could not really tell. They resonated like a musical instrument when contacting a hard surface.

Forced to keep my mouth open because of heavy bit that was strapped to my bridle soon dried my parched mouth further. Until I came upon water, I still hadn't determined how I was going to drink it when I did, I would just have to endure. My bridle was of straps that looked like bright, red leather. It was snug, with large cupped blinders that robbed all side vision. A checkrein from beside the base of each of my ears to fittings on the top back of the metal corset held my head erect, not allowing me to lower it or turn it to the side. Further restricting my vision was a soft, fleece-like, shadow roll across the bridge of my nose that obscured any downward view.

They had pierced the bridge of my nose too - inserting another ring there.

My thirst, by far was the worst. The painful constriction of the corset would be the second worst sensation I felt, but not to be denied were the clear, sexual stimulations in both of my breasts and in my crotch. These demanded my attention and further demanded satisfaction, a satisfaction that I could not achieve. Yes, I had been turned into a real life manifestation of my ultimate of ultimate fantasies.

As the sky grew brighter and there were many more cars on the road, I carefully made my way through the brush then into the wooded patch beside the roadway. Very luckily, I came upon a tiny stream. The water looked clear and when I knelt then laid down, it smelled OK. If it was tainted, what difference would there be? I'd die of thirst if I did not have water.

I did manage some degree of comfort lying on one side, but did not sleep more than a few hours. Having driven that road, I knew it to be well traveled during the day and I could hear many cars along with a few heavy trucks pass along it. What I did not need was for some trucker to find me in my near naked and helpless condition. I stayed right where I was, drinking my fill and resting, hidden from the road.

Though hungry, I had little choice, even if I found something to eat, I saw no way I could eat. My bit has a cross bar. That, in a deep U-shape, fit inside of my teeth with a spoon shape piece extending forward from the center. My tongue had been pierced and the rod they had placed through it, had the top ball unscrewed to pass the rod through this piece than reattached when I was bitted. Even if I could still speak, and I could not, this arrangement would have prevented it - that was my intention when I had designed the damned thing!

At least they had not fastened the ring through the tip of my tongue anywhere, though one rough sketch I'd made showed it to be. I had been pierced through the middle of each of my cheeks. Placing the rod with a ring in the center, inside my mouth, the ends of this were passed through the holes in my cheeks and the disk shaped ends fitted on the rod, so they decorated the outsides of my cheeks. My sketch had the ring through the tip of my tongue, clipped to the ring in the middle of this rod.

Long past dark, the traffic subsided enough for me to feel safe in traveling again. I drank my fill from the stream first.

One thing that I had soon discovered after being returned to earth was that I no longer had any control over my bladder or my bowels. When my body decided that it was going to empty, it voided. I could not stop it and I could not control it.

I knew exactly where I was as dawn approached, just two miles from Kinetta's. I desperately wanted, no, I needed her, but I was wise enough to spend the day in a field of rye and not risk being discovered by anyone.

 

*****

"What's that?" Donna, Kinetta's older sister by two years, sat up on the couch. Her hand found the remote and muted the TV. "Sis, do you hear bells?"

Kinetta, drying her hands, entered from the kitchen. "Yes, I have the dishwasher going, but I definitely heard bells." She cocked her head. "Sounds like they are right outside."

Both jumped and froze when they heard two thumps on the back door of Kinetta's house. Glancing at the VCR, it said nine, eleven. They both stared at each other.

"Who in the hell?" Kinetta picked up the cordless phone and passed it to her sister. "You stay here and dial nine-one-one if I scream. I'll see who it is, Donna." Kinetta sounded braver than she felt. Heart pounding and her stomach in her throat, she entered the kitchen.

Why hadn't Brutus, referring to her rottweiller, barked? Kinetta paused to take a nine-inch knife from its rack not that it would have made any real defense, if she were seriously threatened. Gripping the handle of the knife behind her back gave her a bit more courage to approach the door.

She turned on all the lights, flooding the yard, and peered through the curtains. Very strange? Brutus was kneeling near the porch, his tail wagging and his tongue licking his fore paw? Brutus was a guard dog, he guarded well and there was no stranger that could be within a hundred yards of Kinetta's house that could make him act as he was, only someone he knew very well could approach her house. Another pair of thumps confirmed that, indeed, whomever they'd heard was still on the other side of the door.

Shaking, Kinetta peered out and could see no one. She still heard the light tinkling of the bells. Flexing her fingers, debating if she should have the large knife in front, she moved it there then opened her door, slowly.

"Who's there?" No response. With the door part way open, the tinkling of bells, quite regular, was perfectly clear.

"Brutus! Attack!" Kinetta slammed the door and locked it.

"You OK? Should I call, Kinetta?" Donna sounded urgent.

"Wait. Just stay there." She parted the curtains to see the huge, hundred fifty-pound dog, walk back where he had been and get down. As before, his tail was wagging happily.

Brutus was faithful, no doubt in her mind. If Kinetta was ever threatened, even felt it, her dog moved to protect her. Damn him! She clearly felt threatened, but the dog acted like - like he did only with her and only with one other. Even when Donna visited, as she was that night, Brutus barked up an angry storm, not even letting her out of her car until Kinetta told him to heel.

Kinetta opened her door enough to stick her head out and look. The shock of what she saw, back pressed to the house, just two feet to the side of the door, caused her to drop the knife on the porch. Brutus' actions and knowing he was there calmed her some.

"Brutus! Here." Her dog causally got up and walked beside his mistress. Feeling him press her leg, gave Kinetta the confidence to crouch and retrieve the knife. Holding it before her, the tiny girl stepped out to face the helpless ponygirl, shaking much more than she had been.

Dog still pressed against her, Kinetta was more confident. Though kinky to the core, Kinetta was extremely intelligent. She quickly determined that the ponygirl was more afraid than she was, absolutely terrified, no doubt in her mind. She also determined the complete helplessness enforced by all the bondage. Decision time.

Kinetta reached and grabbed the bell hanging from Cynetta's nipple ring while hooking two fingers through her breast ring. Having much smaller rings through her own nipples, Kinetta knew exactly the degree of control that she had with her hand over the defenseless ponygirl.

"Come inside." Cynetta's body decided that it was going to empty its bladder at that time. When Cynetta squatted and spread her knees, the pent up tension released from Kinetta like the flood on her porch, she started to laugh hard.

"All clear, " she shouted to Donna. "Come here, you have to see this, Sis!

"Brutus, Guard!" Leading the ponygirl by her breast rings, Kinetta brought her into the lighted kitchen.

Letting go of the bell and breast ring, Kinetta hooked one finger through the nose ring, knowing the degree of control that too offered. With her eyes and free hand, Kinetta began a careful examination of what she held.

"Oh, my God!" Donna's jaw dropped when she saw what was standing in her sister's kitchen. "Who is it and what's been done to her?" Donna was nowhere near the kink her little sister was, but she did know about it and knew all about Kinetta's predilections, even knowing, fully, what she had recently been up to.

"Do you know her?"

"I've a very crazy guess. Nothing is for sure. One thing that is sure, Brutus knows her."

"Yeah, right! Brutus knows me too! Unless you come out and call him off, I can't even get out of my car."

"Precisely. Only one other person can, or could, Bob!"

"You are joking. Surly, you are not suggesting that is Bob. Your, Bob?"

"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm telling you what I think Brutus knows. Tell you this too, Sis. The look, the way she is all decked out, especially these." Kinetta touched the engraved letters on the collar and then turned the engraved disk fastened on her left ear. "These all scream, Bob!

"Cynetta is the name of my character in his books!"

At the base of Cynetta's corset, above her tail was a stiff case made from the same red, leather-like stuff as her bridle and the coiled pair of reins clipped on her right hip. Kinetta removed the reins and clipped these to the bit in Cynetta's mouth then removed her finger from the nose ring.

"Better, Cynetta?" Not needing any answer, she removed the pouch and walked with it to sit on the couch

"Who or whatever, Donna, she's no threat, not with what whoever did all this to her. So, sit and relax while I look through this." Not paying the least attention to Cynetta at the other end of the reins she had wrapped about her hand, Kinetta opened the case and looked through its contents. Thumbing through the thick group of photographs, she pulled them out and set the lot on Donna's lap. "If you don't recognize, those are pictures of me, taken in the past few weeks. It is part of what I do to pay my mortgage on this place." Kinetta extracted the drawing pads. Before opening one, she got up and removed Robert's book from the bookcase and set it on top of the photos on Donna's lap. "Volume One." Then re-sat to look at the drawings on the pads.

Donna was upset, she knew her sister was a kink, but not to the depth of what she was looking at in first the book then in the recent pictures. She stopped at one. Reaching out Donna grabbed the reins and tugged.

"Turn around!" Her fingers ran over 'Slave' tattooed, permanently, below the curve of Cynetta's right cheek.

"Are you tattooed there too, Sis?"

"Nope. We used MagikMarker™ for my pictures."

"I'm surprised you aren't branded too. Or - are you, Kinetta?" Kinetta just let it pass without an answer. Finished looking through the three pads and passing these too, to Donna, Kinetta looked at Cynetta.

"Best you can, ponygirl. Tell me, were you Robert? My Robert?" Best she could, Cynetta bobbed 'Yes' from the top of her legs, as she could not move much of herself above them. Donna did not miss the affirmation.

"It's getting late. Let's see what we can fix up in the garage for tonight, Donna, for my ponygirl. Plenty of time to sort out a stall tomorrow and just what we'll do with her." Kinetta stood, pulling the reins.

"You know, you said you think that's Robert, but already you are acting like he's a girl, Sis?"

"Look at those tits! Look at the metal cunt between her legs! I can stick my hand all the way in there, Donna! After you check that, you tell me that this is a guy!"

In the attached garage Kinetta spread out newspapers in a thick layer next to the center column.

"You going to feed or water her?"

"I'll get Brutus' bowl from the kitchen so she can drink. In the morning, I'll figure out what to feed her. For tonight, Cynetta will just have to be content with where she is, tethered in my garage and not in a thousand worse places for a ponygirl like her!" Kinetta wrapped the reins about the central lolly column then cinched them securely about its base. Donna just watched her sister. From the kitchen, Kinetta set down two bowls, one water the other, dry dog kibble.

"I'll figure out what I'm supposed to feed you tomorrow. Open up and I'll see if I can get the bit out of your mouth." Discovering the rod through Cynetta's tongue and the ring, caused her to laugh. "Quite a fix you got yourself into." Though she tried to get the disks off the ends of the rod through Cynetta's cheeks, all her efforts were totally unsuccessful, despite the two pair of large Channel-Lok™ pliers she used. "I'll deal with that in the morning." Cynetta was thankful when his former girlfriend used the key to unlock the chain to her collar, but frustrated when she left the cuffs still connected together behind her back.

"Love your tail. Cute." She lifted it then let it just fall back. Turning her attention to the bridle, the reins were moved to the ring on the front of the collar and she removed it. "No, ponygirl crap or I'll fasten them to the ring in your tongue." With that she motioned to Donna. They left, turning out the lights after the door closed.

On the hard concrete floor, Cynetta knelt, drank water from the bowl and managed to get down about a cup of the dog food. After not eating for nearly two days, it actually wasn't that bad.

Considerably more comfortable without her fore hooves chained to the collar and her bit and bridle removed, sleep came rapidly to Cynetta, despite the concrete beneath her. She was no longer concerned about some strangers finding her. With Kinetta, even not knowing what might happen, the ponygirl felt safe.

"Will you, please stop referring to Cynetta as 'it'. Donna? Clearly you can see she's a human female!"

"All right, already! So what are you going to do with her, then?" The sisters were drinking their morning coffee, seated at the kitchen table.

"I've not got it figured out. You were there; even with that horrid bit out, it was pretty clear to me that she can't talk. I'll call my doctor and try and convince her to come out here and see if she can determine why."

"I'd call a good vet first. Didn't look to me like you are going to change her back very easily."

"Funny! Besides, I'm not sure that I want to change her back, Donna, not that I could." Kinetta set down her empty cup and went to get the pot to refill it.

"Bob and I had great times together. It just wasn't meant for us to get married," Kinetta refilled Donna's cup then re-sat. "That’s all. We were together these past weeks and it was like old times again. Just don't push. OK, Donna?"

"Whatever. But, Sis, look, it's, excuse me, she's a girl now?"

"So what? I'm bi! OK? I'm not ashamed to tell you, we're old enough, that I've had some better sex with a girl then I ever had or imagined with a guy, Bob included!" For a few moments, neither spoke.

"You want to keep her as a ponygirl then? Seems with whatever she's wearing, you ain't gonna' be having much sex?"

"I had a close look at all Cynetta has on, last night. You saw that I did. Well, there is not even a trace of any seam, anywhere. None on that corset thing, her collar or the cuffs. Did you see the hooves? They aren't just boots or gloves that can be taken off, you know?"

Reluctantly, Donna had to admit that she had seen that too. They were a real part of the ponygirl in the garage. The hooves were not coming off of her limbs.

"So what are you going to do, keep her as a pet?"

"Despite our differences, Bob never hurt me, nor did he do one single thing, to ever intentionally cause me real pain, physical or mental, Donna." Their eyes met. Donna sensed that her sister was dead serious and kept silent.

"Look, I'm as kinky as we come, no denying that. I've been tied up, I've been spanked, I've even been whipped," Kinetta paused and giggled. "Maybe hard to understand, but being whipped can be a real turn on. I don't expect you to understand."

"Surprise, as it may be, I know what a crop feels like on my bare ass, little sister.

"So, tell me, what are your thoughts for the ponygirl in your garage, Kinetta?"

"Years before I owned this place, horses were stabled in the barn. I haven't looked recently, but I think I can keep my ponygirl there. Should be adequate."

"I'll help, you."

It was hours later that the sisters entered the garage in the early afternoon. Kinetta wore a pair of beige, latex, riding britches and a white latex blouse. With these, she'd on a pair of short, black leather gloves and her front laced black, knee boots with six-inch heels. She approached Cynetta. Donna had gone home and changed into a pair of ultra tight, blue jeans, a red Western blouse and her red Western, four inch heeled boots with red leather gloves. Donna carried her sister's favorite crop and Kinetta, a five foot, loaded quirt. She snapped her wrist, causing the whip to crack loudly.

"Up, ponygirl!" Not even giving Cynetta a chance or the time, the lash raised a painful welt on her naked cheek. "I said up!" The whip bit again.

Tears in her eyes, Cynetta held still for her bridle to be strapped about her head, then opened for her bit. Kinetta did it just as it had been, complete with her tongue rod through the plate on the bit. Reins now on the bit's arms, Kinetta led her ponygirl to the barn, enjoying the music of her bells, chains and hooves on the path.

The End

 

 

 

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© 1999 by Karen Anne Summerfield. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.