Part two. you really need to read part one first to mke sense of this but here they are in a pub on Saddleworth Moor, Naked ecept for her Ponygirl tack and bound, blinkered and blinded Rose had just pulled Henry ten miles across Saddleworth from the Farm in a two wheeled cart, now she serves the regulars before pulling him home again. * The Box, it was a c...
Author's note: WARNING: There is the tiniest touch of reluctance/non-consent and scat in this chapter. Oddly, I don't like either much, but they were necessary for the evolution of the plot. As absurd as the concepts of hucows and ponygirls are, I tried to take them quite seriously, to delve in the psychology of a hucow or a ponygirl and her owner, in sear...
Abstract: Every few decades every imaginable trope of All Hallow's Eve gather at a special haunted house for one and only one mysterious purpose, but first the staff must be assembled. * As Francette's hands pushed away from the stone bannisters, she feared having been caught listening in on her mistress. Somewhere below in the great hall, the witch conti...
Chapter 1 – I sell myself Sitting on the monorail, looking at my reflection in the window and ignoring the city as it sped by, I told myself it would only be for three months. Three months wearing the collar, three months of almost no-holds barred slavery. The credits would get me out of the hole I'd dug for myself, and then I could book passage off this ma...
Candy woke up to find herself naked and face down in a pile of hay. She rolled onto her back, wincing in pain as her arms became trapped beneath her. She struggled to pull her arms free, but realised that her wrists were bound together. She tried to sit up, but her ankles were also bound. Candy tried to call out, but the gag in her mouth drowned out her cry....
Starting in 1985 and every summer since I have hosted a weekend of wild pony races on my ranch. We only had 4 ponies that first year, but it has steadily grown to the point that last year I had to start limiting the entrants to 50 ponies. My name is Bill Davis and this is my story. I live on a ranch in the middle of 30,000 acres of native prairie in weste...
Author's note: As absurd as the concepts of hucows and ponygirls are, I tried to take them quite seriously, to delve in the psychology of a hucow or a ponygirl and her owner, in search of what these admittedly strange fetishes mean, at least to me. Therefore, beside the tropes of the genre (kinky sex, humiliation and de-humanization), you will find the musi...
Author's note: As absurd as the concept of a hucow is, I tried to take it quite seriously, to delve in the psychology of a hucow and her owner, in search of what this admittedly strange fetish means, at least to me. Therefore, beside the tropes of the genre (kinky sex, humiliation and de-humanization), you will find the musings of a young girl who chooses t...
The young man approached, wearing leather shoes, a sportcoat, smoke trailing from the small cigar held between his thumb and index finger. He was a handsome man. And he was her master. Naomi was at least 15 years his senior, but for reasons that were mysterious to her he enjoyed her as much as some of his younger slaves, his 20 to 22-year-old playthings. Wh...
The scene, a small island among the stunningly beautiful Isles of Scilly in the Atlantic Ocean off the southwest tip of the Uk, its two thirty on a warm sunny afternoon with just enough breeze to send the waves crashing against the shore and Sandra, Ponygirl 314 stands patiently admiring the view as she awaits the arrival of the afternoon boat from the mainl...