Chapter 2

Around us, long rows of curtains divided the

room, and Charles pointed to the empty section directly in front of

the door. As I stepped forward, he pulled the curtains shut behind

me. On the wall hung various belts and reins, lengths of horse hair

fashioned into tails, odd strips of leather. I couldn’t begin to

imagine what they were all for. A well-oiled saddle sat on one

table, a tangle of leather belts on another. Beside the belts, two

horseshoes grinned from the bottom of what looked like hooves.

There was one chair in the room, and a pair of leather boots folded

down in front of it, waiting to be worn. As I looked around, more

than a little nervous, Charles asked gently, “You do know what the

term ‘pony play’ means, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” I scoffed. Or rather, I

knew what Sean had told me. Was he in this room too, behind one of

the curtains somewhere? And was I expected to wear that saddle?

Oh, God…

As if I hadn’t spoken, Charles said, “Pony

play is a form of bondage where the sub—you—pretends to be a

horse.”

“Why, exactly?” I blurted out.

With a faint shrug, he replied, “Don’t ask

me. It’s not my fetish.” Turning away, he began to sort through the

tangled belts on the table and said, “Undress.”

Taken aback, I asked, “What?”

“That’s a term we use in pony play,” Charles

answered. “It means take off your clothes.” Har har,I

thought. When I didn’t move, he frowned over his shoulder and said,

“Rule number one. You obey the trainer’s commands at all times.

When the trainer is not present, you obey the groom. Have you ever

done this sort of thing before, Mr. Drew? Because I can assure you

that no trainer will give you an order twice.”

Quickly, I began to slip out of my clothes.

Undress—I could do that. I pulled my shirt off and stepped out of

my jeans, but I hesitated with my thumbs hooked into the waistband

of my briefs. Did he mean those, too?

Before I could ask, Charles turned and held

the belts out in his hands to form a complicated body harness.

“Your outfit, if you will. Remove those.” He nodded at my briefs

and before I could think about it, I peeled them off. I had a

Crying Gamemoment where my balls tried to crawl up inside

me and my dick shriveled into nothing, but Charles appeared not to

notice. Coming closer, he draped the straps of the harness over my

shoulders and began buckling and snapping it into place. The

leather was cool against my skin, and heavier than it looked. As he

worked, his voice was brisk, all business. “I’m going to go over

today’s rules. Listen carefully. If you don’t understand something,

ask now. Once you’re with a trainer, you won’t get the chance.” I

nodded, but Charles admonished, “Don’t move, Mr. Drew.”

“It’s just Drew.” Charles positioned me while

he arranged the harness. This wasn’t toobad. As long as I

could keep my hands folded over my crotch in some semblance of

modesty—only a hastily drawn curtain separated me from the rest of

the world. Where was Sean anyway?

A double belt encircled my waist and straps

crisscrossed my chest, over my shoulders and down my back. Behind

me, Charles worked the complicated buckles and snaps with practiced

ease. “As I’ve said, rule number one is to obey your trainer. For

today, that will also be your master. You will do everything you

are told to do within the best of your ability or you will be

punished.”

I nodded, then remembered not to move and

stood up straighter than before. “Rule number two,” Charles

intoned, arranging the belts across my back. “A pony must never

speak when dressed in tack. They won’t use a bit in the beginner’s

class, but keep your mouth shut just the same.”

Obey everything they say, don’t talk…two

reasons why I wasn’t into S&M in the first place. “What if I

have to take a leak or something?” I wanted to know.

“Prance around,” Charles replied. “I’m sure

someone will notice.”

There was a hint of a smile in his voice, and

I wondered if he was laughing at me. Still, I added, “What if the

trainer pushes me too far? Isn’t there, like, a safe word or

something?”

“This is a beginner’s class,” Charles

interrupted. “You won’t need a safe word, trust me.” Once the

harness was in place, he shook out what looked to me like the

crotch section of a pair of black leather briefs. Where a waistband

should have been, snaps lined the leather. With a quick, efficient

manner, Charles threaded it between my legs and pulled it up into

place. “Your hands,” he said, and reluctantly I moved them out of

the way. Charles snapped the leather onto the belt at my waist,

creating a jock that cradled my genitals. Behind me again, Charles

snapped the other end onto the back of the belt, then pulled the

material taut to cover my ass.