Gryphon

(story continues from Sarak 2: Sarak learns about Ponygirls) Part 3: Sarak’s New Venture All the ponies had spent a restful night, all complete and safe within themselves and with their new master, whilst Sarak himself had slept a deep and eventful night, full of prancing ponygirls, and sexual dalliances. He woke in the morning, and after splashing water on his face, he again went in search of apples for the ponies, pausing on his way to relieve himself, and noticing that this morning his penis looked bigger than normal. Strange he thought, staring at himself as he urinated into the bushes, watching the steady flow coming from what was now a hardening of his shaft and a tightening of his scrotum. The last drops of urine were now being forced down the length of his penis, hard and straight out before him. Trying to ignore this fact he carried on to the apple trees with a huge bulge forced into his breaches, and there managed to collect enough apples to feed the ponygirls. ...

Alethea lay on the grass, her side was no longer hurting, as her brain took over from the pain and allowed shock and the numbness to creep through her body. She attempted to sit up, but the poles of the chariot had broken, and now lay across her chest in such a manner that she was imprisoned within their embrace. Alethea sighed a deep breath of air, letting the pain from the wound shudder from within her, as she stretched her legs out and flipped onto her side. She screamed as the broken haft of the spear, puncturing her side, caught on one of the poles, and then slipped into unconsciousness, whilst the sun in all its glory, also lost the day and started to set behind the hills to the east. ...

Misha stamped her foot, or in truth her hoof, for her leg was encased in a full length latex sheath, culminating in a perfectly formed hoof, complete with shoe, forcing her to stand on her tip toes, yet able to maintain a stance of pure equine glory. She had been a contracted pony girl for the past three years, with only a few more weeks to run before she would be given the choice of departing the ranch with full rehabilitation, or of renewing her contract for another period of time. She was not sure what she wanted to do at this stage, for although she had entered this world of Master of her own free will, she remembered some of the outside fondly. And although she at times yearned for some of those otherwise denied comforts, she had learned to love this free life as one of the ponygirls at this ranch. ...

The herd was in full flight. The bunched mass of ponygirls flowed like water over the undulations of the ground. Bronzed bodies flashing in the sun as they ran and leaped over fallen logs and rocks in their path. Arms pumped as they reached full speed, turning as one at the crest of the hill, before at a breakneck pace, they came as one down the slope and onto the flats. It was almost impossible to see individuals as they approached the river’s bank, but this group hardly slowed as they took to the shallow water of the ford. Great gouts of water spewed up as their hooves thrashed into the river. Great waves of spray hid the running girls as they forged through and out this side. ...

The Stallion It was dark when I woke up and opened my eyes for that first time, not just dark but pitch black, utter darkness. It was also silent, so silent that I could hear myself breathing in long deep breaths through my nose, for there was something in my mouth, filling if with an awful taste of rubber. I could not move any part of my body; I was cocooned in some form of material, which prohibited me even moving a finger. I only knew that I was upright, in some dark container, with something in my mouth. ...

Chapter One: The Caravan Sarak crept every inch closer, his hands were placed slowly on the ground before him, testing what was beneath his palm and fingers before transferring body weight. Then slowly raising the other hand he repeated the manoeuvrer, hand forward, test, place and bring knee into the spot from whence his hand had come. For almost an hour now he had crept forward on the encampment of this Masan, for almost an hour he had hardly made an iota of noise as he slithered slowly towards the picket line to the south of that camp. And there, attached to the picket line were the seven tired and bedraggled ponygirls. ...

(story continues from Sarak) Part 2 : Sarak learns about Ponygirls Sarak woke to the hum of bees, as they flew through the covering of trees above his head, and that of the glade he had spent the night. His awakening mind listened to the clamour of the bees as they travelled about their business. He heard the tinkle of the brook, as it ran over some stones before dropping into the pool that made up the centre of this peaceful intermission, in an otherwise fairly barren and sparse piece of countryside. The noises drifted through, and he heard further noises, those of horses or ponies as they stamped the grass in the morning light. Sarak woke then in a start, the previous day’s memories flooding through. He stared around him, first locating the six ponygirls, then scanning the undergrowth, then as he stood, looking amongst the trees. Dropping his cloak to the ground, his covering for the night, he stretched and walked to the water’s edge, kneeled and drank his fill. Then rising he gathered the knives he had collected from the fallen Masan, and set off to discover whether he and the ponies were still safe here, alone and without recourse to any other travellers coming upon them. ...