Sogo on Gromet's Plaza Archive

Pampered Pet

Wed, 11 Apr 2018 00:00:00 +0000

Do not use without the author’s permission.

“Um, this is highly unusual, sir. Here at The Pampered Pet we only do pets.”

“But she is a pet.”

The middle-aged owner felt a little queasy as she looked down at the woman crammed into the pet carrier. The caged and naked woman couldn’t speak due to the leather muzzle, so she looked up at the owner with, well, puppydog eyes.

“Oookay,” said the owner nervously. “I guess we can accommodate her . . .”

Career Opportunities

Mon, 05 Mar 2018 00:00:00 +0000

Do not use without the author’s permission.

The head of the auction house entered the back room and let his gaze linger over the row of ponygirls lined up along the back wall. There were nearly a dozen of them, harnessed and bridled, their hands cuffed behind their backs, their eyes blindfolded, and their ears covered with headphones. They were all completely naked, and the tops of their bridles were hooked to rings set in the brick wall behind them. He was pleased. It looked like it was going to be a very profitable day.

The Christmas Competition

Sun, 24 Dec 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Do not use without the author’s permission.

Bob stared at the house across the street with a crazed look in his eye. The hundreds of lights and Christmas figures that covered the house and filled the lawn lit up the whole neighborhood.

“This time Fred isn’t going to win the holiday display competition! Not when he sees what I’ve got to offer! Isn’t that right, Jenna?”

He turned to his wife, who was standing by the wall. She could only give a muffled reply because of the thick rubber horse bit in her mouth. Underneath her harness and bridle, she wore a brown fur-covered catsuit, complete with hooves for her hands and feet, and a pair of reindeer antlers on her head. Her wrists were cuffed to the waist belt of her harness, and her ankles were hobbled by a leather restraint. Her wide, frightened eyes tried to convey to her husband how insane she thought the whole idea was.

Item #37

Sun, 03 Dec 2017 00:00:00 +0000

It all started out as a joke.

The local riding club was planning its annual auction to support the stable, and a couple of the young women decided to auction off one of its members dressed as a pony. Expenses were high, and it was thought that such a stunt would bring in some much-needed revenue. They chose Brianna, one of their best riders, who agreed to be the “pony girl.”

Beg For It

Fri, 29 Sep 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Do not use without the author’s permission.

“Fuck off, scumbag.”

Sonny was hurt. All he had asked for was some spare change for a cup of coffee, and this rich-bitch cunt had all but kicked him in the balls. Dressed in her expensive suit and talking on her smart phone like she was the fuckin’ Queen of Sheba or something. She thought she was so superior, walking down the street with that toned gym body, perfect hair, and designer fucking shoes. Screw her. She was worse than many of the others. He had hoped that the recent gentrification of the neighborhood would mean more handouts, but that was not the case at all.

Tour Guide

Thu, 21 Sep 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Do not use without the author’s permission.

After finishing her morning cup of coffee, Jackie dressed herself in a nude seamless-cup see-thru bra and nude panty girdle with molded derriere, underwear that had been fashionable when she had come to Hollywood as a naive young actress in the mid-70s. As she sat in front of her vanity, she dabbed on some makeup and moisturizer, then ran an electric shaver across the bare skin of her head, careful to preserve the horse’s mane that she had worn since she had first been abducted and forced to become a ponygirl. She checked herself out in the mirror before leaving her bedroom and heading for work.

Border Crossing

Thu, 03 Aug 2017 00:00:00 +0000

The 18-wheeler pulled up to the customs booth, and the customs agent stepped out and called up to the driver.

“What’s your load?”

“Ponygirls,” growled the burly, bearded driver with the Bettie Page tattoo.

“Pull into the inspection station, please.”

The driver nodded and maneuvered his truck over to the designated area. He shut off the engine and stepped out. As a seasoned trucker, he knew the routine—he handed the binder full of forms to the agent and dug out the keys to open the back.

Community Service

Thu, 03 Aug 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Amber pulled on a sports top and Capri-length spandex leggings, then slipped her feet into jogging shoes before tying her orangish-red hair into a ponytail. A bitter smile crossed her face. How ironic, she thought—a ponytail. Then, like the five other young women in the stable, she left her stall for the parking garage.

In the next room were half-a-dozen sulkies. She positioned herself in front of hers—Number 4-and waited for the male workers to harness and bridle her.

Wrong Place, Wrong Time

Thu, 03 Aug 2017 00:00:00 +0000

“Here she is,” said the exasperated director, peering out the stable door. He glanced at his watch as a tall, dark-haired woman stepped out of her car. “She’s almost two hours late, the stupid bitch. And I wanted her to wear a dress or skirt, NOT fucking JEANS!”

The film crew jumped up and readied the lights and video cameras. They were going to have to work fast if they were going to get enough footage for a feature-length film.

Just Deserts

Tue, 18 Jul 2017 00:00:00 +0000

CAUTION: This story is intended purely as a fantasy. Do not attempt to recreate this scenario in real life! (Though it would be pretty cool.) Do not use without the author’s permission.

Janine was barely conscious, but she realized she was naked. What had brought her around was that something was being inserted into her ass. Something large. With alarm, she noted that once it was in, it swelled a little more, stretching her rectum. She could feel that she was lying on a cold, hard table, and that rubber-gloved hands were manipulating her. She wanted to see what was going on, but there was some kind of blindfold over her eyes. She wanted to struggle, to get away, but she was too weak to move. Her legs were raised, and she felt her feet being encased in tight, stretchy latex. Hands continued to work the latex over her legs, encasing them both in a single sleeve. This took several minutes, and then her pelvis and hips were covered, too.

The New Coach

Tue, 04 Jul 2017 00:00:00 +0000

The eleven girls of the college track team milled about nervously in the corner of the gym, dressed in their sports tops and track shorts. Mostly white, two Asian, one Black, one Latina. Their coach had left suddenly over a pay dispute, and they were waiting to meet her replacement.

“I heard it’s a guy,” said one.

“Really? They couldn’t find another woman?”

“I don’t care. Just as long as they’re good.”

Why?

Tue, 04 Jul 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Why did you kidnap me and turn me into your sex fantasy? What was it that made you target me? Was it my long blonde hair and blue eyes? My wholesome good looks? My perky breasts? My lean dancer’s legs? Why me and not one of the thousands of other similar girls out on their own trying to make it in Hollywood? Was I somehow special, or was I just in the wrong place at the wrong time?

Head Count

Thu, 27 Apr 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Elise saw the thirtyish blonde in the smart business suit step out a car parked in their driveway. She turned back to the interior of the stable.

“Mitch, someone’s here.”

A muscular man in his mid-forties, Mitch stopped what he was doing and slipped past his wife at the entrance.

“I’ll see what this is about.”

As he approached the woman, she flashed a professional smile and held out her hand. In the other hand, she held what appeared to be a personal computer the size of a cell phone. An identification badge hung from a strap around her neck. Even though she wore glasses, and her hair was done up in a severe bun, and her pumps said Business Not Pleasure, she was an attractive woman.

The Ponygirl Whisperer

Thu, 27 Apr 2017 00:00:00 +0000

“Even though ponygirls have been around for decades, nobody has noticed that they have developed their own secret non-verbal language of communication over the years, and that is why I have chosen you as my research assistants for this ground-breaking study.”

The three female grad students–blonde Stacee, raven-haired Mirabelle, and redheaded Bronwyn– turned from the female professor to the two dozen ponygirls mingling in the corral before them as they rounded the stable. This was their first real look at the world of female human equines, and their reactions vacillated from fascination to disgust at the naked and leather-tacked women who pranced around in their enclosure.

Handling Handler

Sun, 02 Apr 2017 00:00:00 +0000

NOTE: This story is intended only as a fantasy. It does not condone or endorse such behavior in real life in any way. Do not use without the author’s permission.

“And I thought working for Uber was degrading!”

Chelsea Handler was facing the camera as a ponygirl pulled a sulky down a dirt path behind her. She was filming a pilot episode for a proposed comedy series, and had decided to be as outrageous as possible. There was a look of mock disapproval on her face, though it was obvious from her attitude that she thought this popular fetish was ridiculous and degrading. Still, sexual quirks were a quick and easy source of comedy material, and a way to place herself above such perversions. She turned and stuck out an arm. “Taxi!”

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

Sun, 02 Apr 2017 00:00:00 +0000

“Here we are, girl.”

Jessie obeyed the tug of the reins and slowed down as she turned into the driveway. The petite, golden-haired ponygirl had been trained mercilessly, and now reacted instinctively to any commands, her long mane and full breasts bouncing in unison as she pulled her Master’s cart along the suburban streets. Fortunately, it was a gated community, so not many strangers saw her in her condition. Also fortunate was that community standards required that she wear at least a non-revealing bra and full-coverage panty girdle.

Vore-Acious Appetite

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Do not use without the author’s permission.

“Whoa!”

At Master’s command, the two ponygirls skidded to a halt in front of a small cabin just off the park trail. A sign out front indicated that it had male and female restrooms.

“Man, I gotta take a wicked dump!”

Master jumped out of the cart and crouched down in front of the panting women, using short chains with clips to quickly hobble each girl’s ankles together.