Chapter 270.
As Bobby walked or trotted along the sandy track, listening to the singing of the birds and the occasional crack of a twig echoing in the trees, his mood lightened. He was enjoying being a pony again, an anonymous animal, and the reassuring feeling of Mélisande on his back. For a while he’d be free of responsibility, totally dependent on and obedient to her wishes. He snorted with pleasure. And when they emerged from the forest into open countryside, and he saw in the distance two riders heading their way, he no longer felt nervous, but eager to impress them with his glossy grey coat and his spirited demeanour.
Slowly they closed on each other. Two girls on horseback. He could see them staring and pointing from some way away. As they got nearer they waved and called “good morning!” They came up and stopped.
“Is that…Ponyboy?” gasped one. “The pony from the show?”
“That’s right,” said Mélisande.
“And it was you who rode him, right?” said the other.
“Yes. He’s my pony. I trained him up from just being a boy. For a long time I kept him in my stable at home, but now he stays at Pitt’s Wood.”
“Can we pat him?”
“Go ahead.”
They jumped down and started making a fuss of Bobby, patting and stroking him, feeling his mane and ears.
“He’s gorgeous! You’re so lucky…”
Bobby found himself enjoying the attention. He even nodded his head like a pony to indicate pleasure! It only occurred to him later on that day that there may have been something ludicrous about that sort of behaviour. But even then his doubts were quickly swept aside by the sheer delight, physical and psychological, he felt in being for a while someone’s cherished pony, belonging to her wholly, under her sole control. That day marked his acknowledgement of a guiltless addiction that would last many years…
About midday Mélisande stopped for lunch. She spotted a sunny pasture surrounded by hedgerows, swung herself out of the saddle, and led Bobby to a fallen tree. Tethering him to a root, she took off her rucksack and seated herself. She took off his bit and shared out the lunch her mother had packed for them, feeding him by hand, holding the drink carton while he suc-ked up the juice, and wiping his mouth. After lunch she discreetly unzipped and refastened his pouch so he could relieve himself. Then she began to unbuckle his bridle.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m changing your mask, Bobby. You should have a new one for the afternoon.”
“Why?”
She held up the blank mask, and showed him the inside..
“No, please not that one…”
She smiled. “Yes, Bobby, this one.”
“Why, Mellie?”
“I want you to learn to trust me unconditionally.” She smiled, and whispered. “and I rather like the idea of you being plugged both ends…”
“That’s not fair! How do you know that… Anyway, I won’t wear it…”
She sighed. “I know everything now. No need to be shy.” She took out the pump and held it in front of his nose. The threat was enough.
“No…you wouldn’t!”
She sighed and stood up.
“Okay, okay… Whatever you say.”
“That’s better.”
She took off his bridle, pony hood and mask, and slipped on the new one. He resisted the plug for a moment, but she held his nose till he capitulated. Then she refitted the pony hood, and before putting on the bridle, she attached the special retaining strap, consisting on a broad leather mouth-cover, wider under the nose and tapering at the sides where it was attached to the side-rings. She re-threaded the neck strap and buckled it tightly and the back of his neck. Now the gag was held immovably in his mouth. Then she replaced the bridle, firmly attaching all the straps to the side-rings. A quick fluff up of his mane and a tug on the ears and he was ready to go.
She mounted and guided him back onto the track.
“Don’t hesitate. Keep the pace going. I’ll look after you.”
She guided him with hands, heels, gentle taps of her whip, and occasional spoken commands.
“Puddle ahead. Careful not to slip.”
“Tree branch on left. Just brush through it.”
As he grew used to responding only to his rider’s instructions his confidence grew, and after half an hour he was trotting at full speed, weaving in and out of obstacles in response to the aids. Mélisande smiled. Over the coming weeks she would aim to establish absolute trust, and thus to build total obedience, from which she hoped would flow unqualified loyalty. She was confident that in the end her power over him would be unmatched by any rival, and that ultimately he would be hers alone…
After about fifteen minutes he heard the sound of water, and Mélisande leant forward.
“We’re going to cross a little stream. It’s stony, so pick up your hooves.”
He splashed through the water and climbed up a gentle, springy bank. They had never come this far before, and he knew they were now in unknown territory. A little further and he could tell from the echoes and the smell of pine that they had entered another forest. In the distance he could hear the sound of a circular saw. But that soon faded, and then he was on a winding stony path. After a few more minutes, Mélisande guided him onto a patch of grass and dismounted.
“Wait here.”
He stood there in the silence. Five minutes passed. Ten. He began to get anxious. Was she going to abandon him? Of course not. Why would she do that? Fifteen… He began to swivel around, listening for the slightest sound. Then he started making muffled interrogatory noises. Still no response. Then, after about twenty minutes, he started to panic. He couldn’t hear anything, he could see nothing, he was apparently alone in a strange place, helpless in his pony gear, plugged both ends, tightly strapped and bridled up. Suppose some kids found him. They could do whatever they liked, and he would be powerless to resist. Suppose…
He started trotting backwards and forwards, until he bumped straight into a tree stump, and fell on his side. He lay there kicking wildly, unable to get to his hooves, rotating slowly as his struggles increased. Then all of a sudden he heard a snort nearby, and froze. Mélisande, who had been sitting on a log watching the whole performance, had finally been unable to contain her mirth any longer. She quickly assumed a serious tone.
“Bobby! Found you at last! Thank goodness! We were lost, so I just went to see if I could find any landmarks, and then I couldn’t find my way back. But here you are, my gorgeous little ponyboy,” she added, hauling him back onto his feet. “Oh, you’re trembling… I hope you weren’t frightened….”
Bobby grunted and shook his head vigorously. Mélisande mounted up, biting her lip to prevent bursting out laughing. She turned him back the way they had come, gave him a kick and two good firm smacks with her whip, and retraced their route.
When they arrived back at Pitt’s Wood, Bobby tired and aching, she did think of changing his mask back. But then she thought, “why should I? He’s mine, isn’t he? I’m old enough now that I can do as I like with him.” So she rode him back to the stable, past all the inquisitive faces, and tethered him outside while she texted Ellie to say they were back.
After ten minutes or so, after everyone had had a chance to come and goggle at him and pat him and take photos of the smooth blank latex moulded to his features, Ellie and Clarissa, who had been drinking tea in the canteen, arrived at the little knot of girls surrounding him. Clarissa stared.
“Mélisande! Did you change his mask?”
“Yes, mummy. I was training him to obey the aids and nothing else.”
“But isn’t that one… I mean, it doesn’t have a, er, thing…does it?”
“Yes, mummy, it does. And he loves it!”
Ellie covered her mouth and sniggered.
“Darling, you can’t just, you know, do whatever you want…”
“Why not, mummy? You do…”
“I…?”
“Yes. Once I came to the loose box early, and I saw you…”
Clarissa turned white. “Mélisande! Not another word! I’ll deal with this later. Let’s get him inside, Ellie, and get him out of this. Mellie, please stay here, or…here – take this and go buy yourself something in the canteen. And stay there please, till I come and collect you.”
“Yes mummy. Thank you mummy.”
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Topic: His Aunt Nicole (Read 122916 times)
