Stable Boy

After that the days settled into a pattern. However, behind this pattern there were a number of significant changes taking place. At Jim’s morning inspection Miss Worthing was less and less circumspect about what she was doing and took delight in getting Jim all worked up with no possibility for relief. Whether it was the tips of her fingers playing with his testes or the sole of her boot rubbing against his groin she never missed giving him what she called ‘his morning thrill’ before heading off for her ride on Morning Dew. After her ride Miss Worthing was increasingly leaving the stables in Jim’s sole care. He was quickly getting to know the various girls, their likes and dislikes and was more and more able to anticipate problems before they arose. However the stables were not the sole extent of his duties; daily he would report to the house where Miss Worthing would have some housework set aside for him. Just as he was learning his way around the stables so he was also learning his way around the house; where the various cleaning materials were kept, for example and where to find fresh bed linen. Miss Worthing would often come by and check on him as he was working; typically she would wait until he was elbow deep in washing up before coming up behind him and reaching around him to slide her hand under the waistband of his panties.

Around the stables she was far more prudent and the casual observer wouldn’t be aware of anything untoward. Jim was always polite and quick to obey but to the outsider he was little more than a keen and diligent employee. Most of the girls were far too wrapped up in themselves and their horses to notice anyway. Mrs Johnson, the only other person who was really in the know, was a regular visitor as she dropped off or picked up Kirsty but, however much she retained her amusement over Jim’s circumstances and would often rib him about it, she too never referred to anything other than stable matters whenever anyone was in earshot.

Kathy never missed a day, come rain, come shine; Truffles must have been the most pampered pony in the stables. As often as not Miss Thornton would put in an appearance shortly after four-o-clock and Jim was getting in the habit of getting Morning Dew ready for her. Miss Thornton seemed to be bringing out a side of Kathy which had so far lain dormant. It wasn't just that she was happier, brighter and more self-assured, she was also dressing better, taking more care about her appearance and a really pretty butterfly was emerging from the previous rather dull chrysalis. As for Amanda and her friends, they were evidently too 'busy' elsewhere for much of the time which meant that they seldom rode their horses and Jim got the added bonus of getting to take them out for exercise.

As soon as six-o-clock rolled round Jim would chivvy the last stragglers out of the yard and gratefully close the gate behind them.  Then, after checking round and locking up, he would head up to the house where he would do some housework as Miss Worthing prepared their evening meal. Jim had even suggested that he should take a turn with the cooking but, as his experience was limited to beans on toast and Miss Worthing was an accomplished cook, she declined his offer.

Whilst his panties and apron, not to mention his obvious deference, were clear markers of the dynamics of their relationship the two of them were becoming increasingly relaxed around each other and would discuss the management of the stables as they sat together across the kitchen table. Miss Worthing relied on Jim as her eyes and ears, asking about what was going on, which girls were really keen and which were just going through the motions. And it wasn't just work they discussed; the more they talked together the more they found they had in common and they would share opinions on events from the news or local gossip.

After they had eaten and Jim had cleared away they would go down to the barn to practice their routine. The pony boots which had seemed so alien were becoming more and more natural and the plug holding the tail in his butt was causing less discomfort; in fact he rather enjoyed the full feeling it gave him. Mrs Johnson would turn up maybe three times a week and they were getting quite good, quite attune to keeping in step and, more and more, Miss Worthing would grudgingly admit that she was pleased by their performance. On evenings when Mrs Johnson wasn’t available Miss Worthing would hitch Jim up to the sulky and have him practice pulling her around the arena. As an incentive she told him that the best time was two minutes fifteen seconds for five laps and that she would give him one stroke of the crop for every second he was over that. Young and fit as he was, after the repeated trials, he still ended up most nights with a tally of fifteen to twenty strokes. Miss Worthing would bend him over the workbench in the tack room and, after lifting up his tail, give him sharp reminders to try harder next time. She was nowhere near as brutal as Amanda had been but even gentle strokes of the crop stung like crazy leaving Jim’s buttocks twin globes of glowing heat.

Then it was time for the wash down which was evidently just as much a part of the ritual. Exactly what happened varied greatly depending on Miss Worthing’s mood. Sometimes, especially when Mrs Johnson was not available, the wash was long and sensuous with Miss Worthing spending considerable time soaping his genitals, teasing him mercilessly until he would lose control. This seemed to amuse her greatly and she would admonish him with mock severity for his lack of self-discipline, knowing full well that only a statue could have resisted.

Then, if Mrs Johnson were present, he would be dismissed and the two women would head off leaving him behind. However, on the days that she was away it was often Jim who was ordered back to the house where Miss Worthing, after changing out of her jodhpurs and blouse, would lie back on the sofa and get him to minister to her needs. The starting point would often be fetching her a drink, re-applying the nail varnish on her toes, or perhaps a foot massage but there was a growing understanding between them that this was mere foreplay; what they both desired was for Jim to worship his goddess in the way that felt most natural, on his knees before her as his tongue worked its special magic on the centre of her pleasure.

But the biggest change, the one which made everything different, was, ironically, prompted by some casual words from Jim's mum. He’d arrived home late as usual and was making his way upstairs when she came out of the lounge and called out to him.

“Is that you, Jim?” She said to his retreating back. “I’ve put your clean clothes on your bed. Sometimes I think that’s the only reason you come home; for all the time you’re spending at the stables you might as well be living there.”

“Thanks, mum.” Jim called back and, when he got to his room there, as promised was his weekly wash all cleaned and folded. However his mum’s words kept running through his mind. '...you might as well be living there.' She was right, he only came home to sleep and, for everything else he was, effectively, living at the stables. There was the camp bed in the staff room which was never used. With a little organisation…

The next day he waited until they were relaxing over their midday meal before broaching the subject with Miss Worthing.

“Please, Miss Worthing, I was wondering…” He began.

“What were you wondering?” She asked.

“The bed, the one in the staff room, is it ever used?”

“No, not really. I slept down there the night that Cherry Blossoms foaled but, no, not normally. What makes you ask?” She was intrigued.

“I was wondering if… Well, my mum was saying… I mean, if the bed’s not used…”

“Come on, spit it out.” Miss Worthing urged. “I won’t bite, well, not unless you get lucky.”

“Perhaps I might use it.” Jim finally said. “I mean, I’m practically living here as it is and it makes sense…”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Miss Worthing said after thinking it over for a moment or two. “Yes, not bad at all. When had you got in mind to move in?”

“Whenever suits you.” Jim replied. “I mean, if I could have an hour off this afternoon I could nip home and get my stuff then, move in tonight.”

“Gosh, you are keen.” Miss Worthing laughed. “But why not; it will be nice having you on the spot, so to speak. Just keep the place tidy, that’s all I ask.”

“Of course, Miss Worthing.” Jim replied.

That afternoon he nipped home and, after explaining the situation to his mother, packed a holdall with some clothes and essentials and was back at the stables within an hour.  He commandeered one of the lockers and, mindful of Miss Worthing’s admonishment to keep the place tidy, he made sure everything was put away neatly.

During the evening meal and whilst preparing for the training session Miss Worthing had said nothing about Jim’s new sleeping arrangements and, this being one of the occasions when Mrs Johnson was present, when the session was over he was left to tidy up the stables whilst they returned to the house. With this completed he went to the staff room, undressed and got into bed. It felt strange sleeping in the stables, he could hear strange noises from the main block; the horses moving about, for example, or a rustling from the hayloft which reminded him to check the baits in the rodent traps.  He was lying in bed reading when he heard the roar of Mrs Johnson’s X5 pulling away from the yard. He glanced at the clock, it was nigh on eleven and, even without the walk to work, he still had to get up early so he put his book down, switched off the lights and rolled over to sleep.

Ten minutes later he was just drifting off when he heard the creak of the door and, in the almost complete darkness, sensed, rather than saw a shape come over to the bed.

“What…” He started.

“Shh…” Miss Worthing’s voice came out of the darkness and she laid a finger across his lips, reinforcing the demand for silence. He felt the covers being drawn back and, working by touch, Miss Worthing’s fingers felt out his groin and the padlock holding the cage around his penis. After a little fumbling it fell away and, once released from it’s bonds his penis sprung free, stiff and hard. Miss Worthing got onto the bed and knelt, straddling his groin and, taking his penis in her hands she held it upright before shifting forward slightly and, after a little resistance, sliding it deep inside her. She leant forwards  and placed her hands on his shoulders, pinning him to the bed.

It was almost surreal; the only light was a feint glow coming from the half open door and, in the near total darkness, Miss Worthing was a vague shadow looming over him. Neither of them spoke so it was almost completely quiet making the sound of their breathing and the occasional creak of the bed seem extra loud. All this heightened the sense of touch, the smooth silky feel of Miss Worthing’s gown and the smooth silky feel of her flesh a counterpoint to the warm grip of her internal muscles as she moved back and forth in a slow steady rhythm. Jim lay there; he didn’t dare move and he’d been told not to speak; his focus was controlling his desires, ensuring that he was as hard and strong inside her as he could be. He could feel the tension within her rising; he could hear her breathing getting shallower; her hands gripped his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his flesh; he was fighting so many urges, the urge to move, to return her movements with a thrust of his own, the urge to cry out, the urge above all to come, to climax, to relieve the intense pressure in his groin. At last he could feel her nearing her climax, her muscles tensing, the urgency of her thrusts increasing until, with an animal growl from the back of her throat she thrust her self down upon him, once, twice three times, the muscles of her vagina clamping round his penis urging him to explode within her and sucking his juices from him.

Shaking from the intensity of the moment, she slumped forward and for five minutes or so they lay like that as they shared the post coital glow, recovering their breath and letting the emotions subside as Jim’s penis became flaccid inside her. In the dark and the quiet there was a shared sense of bliss and, without a single word being passed Jim felt closer to her than he had ever been. Then, when she had fully recovered, she kissed him lightly on the cheek and, easing herself off him stood up and left.

Jim took a few minutes to recover and make sure she was gone before reaching for the light and turning it on. The bedclothes were all over the place and his groin was a sticky mess; moreover his penis was free and unencumbered as she hadn’t put his cage back on. He got up and went to the bathroom and ran himself a quick shower. As he enjoyed the luxury of soaping his unconstrained genitals he wondered what he should do about it. He could well understand why Miss Worthing had not replaced the cage; it had been awkward enough to remove in the dark, putting it back would have been impossible without putting the light on and that would have ruined… everything. He knew this reprieve was temporary and it would be replaced as soon as possible but he could sleep one night unfettered, couldn’t he? After all she would never know. He dried himself and returned to the staff room. As he tidied the bedcovers the cage and it’s padlock fell to the floor. He picked them up and turned them over in his hands. She would never know, but he would. Smiling to himself he reached down and refastened it around his penis; his mark of belonging, his mark of being owned.

A few days later Miss Worthing was leaning on the fence of the paddock watching Jim arrange the jumps for the afternoon sessions when Mrs Johnson arrived and came over to stand beside her.

“Keeping your eye on Jim?” Mrs Johnson jested.

“Just making sure everything is as it should be.” Miss Worthing replied. “Not that I need to; he's getting to be very useful around the place. I'm beginning to wonder how I coped without him.”

“By the way you keep looking at him it not just the stables where he's 'very useful'. He's put a sparkle in your eye I haven't seen in ages. Nothing like having a good shag on tap to keep a girl happy, eh?” Mrs Johnson laughed.

“Michelle! Language!” Miss Worthing retorted. “And what makes you think we're... Anyway, it's not like that. He's too young; it wouldn't work.”

“What makes me think you're doing the deed? The smile on your face every time you look at him, that's what. But, tell me, is it really age that's the problem? If he wasn't too young, would it work then?” Mrs Johnson asked.

“He's very sweet; really, he's devoted and it's very flattering to be worshipped like that and, OK, I'll admit it, the sex is great, but... Oh, it's complicated. When I took him on for the summer I thought it would be a laugh; we'd tease him a bit, give the lad a summer he'd never forget and then, come September, back he goes to college and it's all done and dusted. Now, well, I'm not sure what I want any more and as for September... Do you know, if he weren't going back to college I'd offer him a job as stable manager starting tomorrow? He's worked wonders around the place; I've never had it running so smoothly.

“Stable manager? Is that all you'd offer him?” Mrs Johnson asked. “I get the impression that a rather more... personal position might be on offer. Something more along the lines of chief toady and boot licker.”

“Oh, he'd be more than that, far more than that.” Miss Worthing replied fervently before she caught herself  “Jim!” she called out. “That fence, it's a bit high for the younger girls. Drop it down a notch, will you?” And, with that, the subject was closed.

The subject may have been closed but that didn't stop Miss Worthing mulling it over. She could think of a million practical reasons why she shouldn't get too involved with Jim, the age gap being by far the biggest. The practical woman inside her would argue that she should be scaling back their relationship, that their involvement would only lead to heartache but there was another side, one which simply wasn't listening, the one that couldn't resist the late night visits to the stables where the silent trysts fed a need deep, deep inside her.

But it wasn't just the sex, good as it was. The more she got to know Jim the more she was discovering that hidden behind Jim the stable boy was Jim the man. Yes, he was delightfully submissive and loved being on his knees before her as much as she liked having him there but didn't mean he was a wimp, far from. There had been a number of incidents around the normal running of the stables where he had stepped in and taken charge acting with a maturity and compassion that belied his years. He had a strength of character, a basic decency, which she was learning to admire and respect and he was now far more than just a toy boy; he was a friend, a companion, above all he was someone she didn't want to hurt by promising more than she was prepared to deliver. Furthermore the thought of losing him at the end of the summer, the thought that he might find someone else to submit to, the thought of him submitting to anyone else, ever... maybe he wasn't the only one who might get hurt. Her head said that she should cool things down, her heart said something rather different. For once the usually decisive woman was stumped; she didn't quite know what she should do for the best.

As the Meet grew closer Miss Worthing had Jim polish up the sulky until it shone and the arena was swept and tidied until if was perfect. As most of the indoor events were in the winter Jim had a cover story of summer maintenance but none of the girls seemed to notice as they were too wound up in their ponies. With Mrs Brown back from her holidays there was less housework to do and Jim was tasked with polishing up the pony tack until it was perfect. Then, one Thursday morning, Miss Worthing announced that the Meet was that very night and she spent some time down in the barn, helping to check everything over and setting up the judges table with a microphone for the PA.

“Please, Miss Worthing.” Jim asked. “What exactly is going to happen? Why are we going to all this trouble?”

“Let's keep that a surprise.” Miss Worthing returned. “It's more fun that way.”

For the rest of the day Miss Worthing seemed a little anxious and she was endlessly checking up with Jim that he had got everything absolutely ready. Then, at six-o-clock, she was there chivvying the girls away and making sure the stables looked their best. Then she sent Jim to the house to fetch a large hamper and, when he returned she had arranged a table along the edge of the arena. This she started unpacking whilst he was sent back for yet another hamper. By the time he had returned the table was covered with a white linen cloth and there were several plates of canapés dotted about. The second hamper contained bottlers of wine and assorted glasses and Jim was sent back once again for ice for the buckets so that the various white wines might be suitably cooled.

“There, that's not too bad.” Miss Worthing conceded. “Now, let's get you sorted out.”

She led Jim to the tack room where, as was now becoming second nature, he stripped off as she laid out his harness. They worked together fitting his boots, harness and bridle and in no time he was bent over the workbench waiting for his tail to be fitted. Jim spread his legs and relaxed his sphincter, offering himself up, ready for that feeling of being stretched as the widest part of the plug was inserted.

“Hmm... This is getting a little too easy.” Miss Worthing commented. “Maybe it's time to move up to a bigger plug. You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

Jim was grateful that the bit effectively gagged him and he didn't have to answer.

Once the tail was fitted she stood him back up again and looked him over with a critical eye. Then she removed the cage around his penis and carefully brushed his pubic hair before having second thoughts and fetching some clippers to give him a light trim.

“There, that's better; much neater. Now, I want perfection tonight, nothing else will do. You will not let me down. Do not let your attention wander... Hmm.... I know what will help.” She went to the cupboard and fetched out a pair of blinkers which fitted to his bridle limiting his field of vision. “There, that will help you concentrate. Remember, head up and eyes straight ahead at all times.”

Then he was led to an empty stall at the far end of the stables and tied up to wait. And wait. And wait. He could hear Miss Worthing bustling around and, after a while he heard the door open and Mrs Johnson's distinctive voice. Then, after quite a pause, the door to the stall was opened and Mrs Johnson was led in and tied up next to Jim. She seemed to have none of the nerves that Miss Worthing, let alone Jim, was suffering from and was quite flirty. She had obviously made an effort; her pubic hair was completely shaven, and although Jim had seen her countless times before this, and her mood, made her especially attractive so that he couldn't help but stare. Mrs Johnson noticed this and played along, striking various provocative poses before Miss Worthing, who was passing by, saw what was going on and told them both to settle down.

All of a sudden, the other guests started arriving. There was a hubbub of voices and the noise of various people moving about but, as the stall they were in was the last on the row there was very little activity in front of them and, although people occasionally stepped into view, Jim was only able to get brief glimpses. He could hear quite a bit of chatter, the sort of chit-chat that goes with old friends catching up and lots of activity along with the sound of glasses clinking, evidently the wine was being broached but as to what was actually happening he could only guess. Gradually the noise settled down and seemed to drift off towards the arena. Jim could hear a voice over the PA but as the arena was at the other end of the block and the volume was relatively low he couldn't make out the words. Mrs Johnson looked across at him and gave him a wink and a smile. Whatever it was, it was evidently starting.

One by one they would hear people approaching and noises from one of the other stalls followed by the unmistakable sound of pony boots on the brick flooring and another burst of announcements from the PA this time accompanied by music. Then, at last, it was their turn. Miss Worthing arrived carrying a buggy whip. She untied their reins and led them out to the main aisle of the stable block.

“OK, you two, this is it, don't let me down. And you...” she looked at Jim “Remember, head up and eyes front at all times. Now here's a special treat for you both.”

She reached into her pocket and brought out four bells, each with an attached nipple clamp. She fastened them on, gave them both a second or two to adapt to the pain, and led them down the aisle and up to the door of the arena.

“And now a special treat for you all.” The voice came from the PA. “Tonight Celia has not one, but two ponies for our entertainment. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Hera and Zephyrus.”

There was a burst of applause and Miss Worthing urged them forward and into their routine.

“Hera, we all know well but Zephyrus is our second new pony tonight and, as is Celia's way, named after the Greek god of the west wind. Let's see how they do as she puts them through their paces.”

There was a burst off music from the PA and suddenly Jim was really grateful for all the training sessions they had had. This time there were no orders from Miss Worthing but the music provided the rhythm and he just concentrated on remembering the routine that he and Mrs Johnson had been put through so many times. As they emerged into the arena he was equally grateful for the blinkers. Even with the restricted vision he was aware that there were a number of people sitting in the bleachers and, over in one corner a number of 'ponies' standing waiting patiently. He suddenly felt very open and exposed, very on display. However he was far too busy to do anything other than concentrate on getting the steps right, keeping in time to the music, keeping his head up, his eyes front and a big smile on his face despite the tugs of pain as the bells bounced up and down on his chest. He circled the arena to the left whilst Mrs Johnson, or should that be 'Hera', circled it to the right  and then, as they met again, they were paraded around as a pair, sometimes at a walk, sometimes at a canter and sometimes at a gallop. Miss Worthing gave no verbal commands but stood at the centre of the arena used the buggy whip to direct.

Finally the routine was over and they were brought to a halt in the middle of the arena to enthusiastic applause from the bleachers. Miss Worthing gave them a bow and a then led Jim and Mrs Johnson over to the side where the other ponies were tied up and waiting. There were four more in total; one Jim recognised as Kathy, looking quite radiant in a harness of white leather with a matching plume rising from her bridle. The other three were a woman somewhat older than Miss Worthing, Jim guessed she might be in her low forties, a middle aged man and a tall black man who seemed to be in his thirties. All of them wore the same basic pony gear with black and brown the norm except for Kathy's in white.

“Well, that's the dressage section completed and I think you'll all agree it's been one of the best displays we've had in a long while; six beautifully turned out ponies. Thanks to all the trainers for all their hard work.” The voice came from the PA. “So, whilst we judges make up our minds why don't you take a break, sample some of Celia's delicious canapés and assess the form for the sulky racing.”

There was a general murmur of conversation as the people from the bleachers came down into the arena and headed for the buffet. However it wasn't long before the early birds had taken a selection of bites, poured themselves a glass of wine and were heading over to where the ponies were tied up. Whilst all the ponies were up for inspection inevitably Jim and Kathy were the main attractions. One woman, an older, matronly type, headed straight for Jim and, almost as if unable to resist, ran her hands along his sides, his thighs and, of course, his groin. Jim concentrated hard on keeping his head up and his eyes forward as the busy fingers stroked his penis.

“Celia, my dear, what an exciting find.” She gushed. “Are there any more where this one came from? Quite the young stallion, isn't he?”

“He’s responding well to training.” Miss Worthing replied.

“I'll bet he is, I'll bet he is.” Whilst still stroking his penis the woman stood back a bit and looked down speculatively. “And is he good over distances... or does he tend to fade in the finish.”

“As I said, he's responding well to training.” Miss Worthing laughed brightly. “And how's George doing? It's a shame he couldn't be included in tonight's show.”

“Oh, George is George, aren't you dear?” The woman said with an indulgent smile.

“Yes, Mistress.” A man of similar age who had been standing behind her stepped forward.

“Well, have a care, my dear, or I might see if Celia has any more of these from wherever she found him. I might trade you in for a younger model. Now let's go and see the other newcomer. Two new ponies in one meet. We don't get that very often.” She left with George trailing in her wake.

They had hardly left before the next couple came along. Once again Jim was inspected as livestock and all questions were directed at Miss Worthing. Gradually Jim was getting a feel for what was going on. Although there were only six ponies 'on show' it would appear that the club consisted of twenty or so couples who took turns. There was even some muttering about Miss Worthing having taken two places but this was mitigated by the presence of two new ponies and the tacit admission that, as hostess, she made the rules. Within each couple it was easy to spot which was the dominant partner as they were the only ones who spoke to Miss Worthing and, as you might expect, Jim was mostly of interest to those couples where the man was the pony. There was plenty of sexual innuendo, mostly wrapped up in equestrian language and, it would seem that teasing the ponies in an attempt to raise a reaction was all part and parcel of the game. Hands wandered all over Jim's body, mostly concentrating on the bells on his nipples and his ever-hardening penis. Jim's ego got several boosts as comments were made about the size and firmness of his erection and questions were asked as to whether he was available for 'stud'.

Jim wasn't getting all the attention, however. Mrs Johnson, standing next to him, was getting her fair share of admirers and had no reason to feel left out. Jim wondered vaguely how Kathy was coping with this but, with the blinkers on and his eyes firmly forward, he could only wonder as she was out of his field of vision.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” The PA started up. “If I could ask you all to return to your seats we've just enough time to announce the winner of the dressage contest before we start the sulky racing.”

There was a general bustle as the crowd returned to the bleachers and they settled back for the second half.

“Firstly, here's the result of the dressage contest. Whilst Celia Worthing's delightful display of Hera and Zephyrus was very commendable and we've seldom seen anything prettier than Zara Thornton's Candi Floss we're delighted to announce that, once again, Amy Rutherton's Chocolate Soldier is the winner.” There was a slight murmur from the crowd along the lines of 'He always wins' “Yes, I know he always wins.” The judge continued, slightly peeved. “but that's because he's the best. Better luck next time to the rest of you. Now then, the sulky racing will be seven laps of an obstacle course and, as ever, four faults will be added on for hitting any obstacle or for failing to maintain a correct gait. Now then, if we can just get ready...” Whilst this had been going on two of the club members had been arranging jumps and other obstacles to give a sort of figure eight course around the arena.

“That's perfect,” the judge announced. “Now let's start with the dressage winners, Amy Rutherton and Chocolate Soldier.”

Whilst things were being made ready there was a general relaxation along the line of ponies and Jim was able to surreptitiously look around. Amy Rutherton was, like her pony, Afro-Caribbean and looked stunning in her riding gear. She led Chocolate Soldier over to the sulky, unclipped his wrists and attached them to the shafts. Apart from a bush of pubic hair he was completely shaven and it looked like his body had been oiled so it gleamed under the lights. He had a grace and power that Jim knew he could only aspire to and was very much a natural between the shafts. Jim watched intently, taking in as much as he could. Sure Miss Worthing had schooled him in pulling the sulky and he had done plenty of circuits of the arena with and without obstacles but here was an expert and it paid to take note. Amy got in the sulky and picked up the buggy whip so as to guide her pony around the course.

The judge rang a bell and they set off, winding in and out of the fences as whilst, all the time, Chocolate Soldier kept up the high kneed gait that Jim had been taught. All was going well and he was pulling for the finish when, whether by his inattention of by Amy's, the sulky wobbled and clipped a fence.

“Well, that was an excellent two minutes fifty seven seconds but with four faults added for hitting the last fence. Now, it's time for one of our newcomers, Zara Thornton and Candi Floss.

As Chocolate Soldier was led back to the waiting area Jim could see that Amy was far from pleased. As a couple they obviously took this very seriously and it looked like Chocolate Soldier would suffer later, whether hitting the fence was his fault or not. Meanwhile Kathy, or should that be Candi Floss, was being led out and fastened to the shafts.

Whilst she would never have the power, or even the grace, of the larger, older man, there was no doubt that Candi Floss looked pretty as a picture standing between the shafts of the sulky. She had a glow about her that Jim had never seen before and, as she pulled away her poise and gait were perfect. Miss Thornton wasn't pushing her hard, she knew this was all about the show and not the winning and she was using the buggy whip sparingly, guiding rather than urging and, in the end, they completed the course in a creditable three minutes forty seven seconds and no faults.

Next off was the middle-aged man. You could tell that he, and his ‘owner’ didn’t take this as seriously as some and the time was slow with eight faults added. Then came the other woman. Her gait was near perfect but she hadn’t the grace that Mrs Johnson had, let alone Miss Worthing and her clear round was, whilst faster than Candi Floss’s not remarkable.

Then it was Jim’s turn. He realised he was in with a chance. He knew he was fit and he knew how he should do it. If only he could keep a clear round then he’d be ahead of the main opposition, Chocolate Soldier. Miss Worthing unhitched him from the waiting area and led him across to the sulky. He stood between the shafts, fully aware that all eyes were on him and he knew he couldn’t let Miss Worthing down, that she was counting on him to do her proud. He felt the lurch of the shafts as the sulky took the weight as Miss Worthing got in, the bell rang and he was off. Furiously concentrating on his deportment he strived to keep a balance between speed, grace, and accuracy. With a rictus grin on his face he struggled to remember to keep his knees high, to keep his head up, to twist and turn but not too much or too fast. He could feel the whip against his buttocks as Miss Worthing urged him on but she was using it as a guide, not a prompt and she was letting him do the work. He soon lost count of the laps, he was only focusing as far ahead as the next obstacle as they came at him, fence after fence after fence until, at last, he heard the bell ring and he was there. The round completed fault free.

“Well, that was a superb round by Zephyrus in a very strong three minutes and five seconds putting him firmly in the lead.” Came over the PA as Jim staggered to a halt. Miss Worthing jumped out of the sulky and went round to unfasten him and take him back to the waiting area.

“Come on, keep your head up, remember your gait. Don’t ruin it now.” She whispered furiously in his ear as she led him across the arena.

Then it was Mrs Johnson’s, or rather, Hera’s turn. As Miss Worthing led her across the arena she gave a swing of her hips making her tail swish from side to side. Jim could tell that she was loving the show, loving being in the spotlight, the focus of everyone’s attention. Her round, whilst not particularly fast was the epitome of style; she may not have had the grace and power of Chocolate Soldier but, matched with Miss Worthing, she had an elegance, a class, that none of the others could match.

“Yet another clear round, this time in three minutes and twenty seven seconds which leaves Celia Worthing as the winner with Zephyrus; a superb showing from one of our two new ponies. So, if the winners will come forward and collect their cups…”

Miss Worthing led Jim and Amy Rutherton led Chocolate Soldier over to the judging table where they were presented with cups, just as if this had been a real equestrian event. There was a round of applause from the bleachers but Jim noted that only the owners bowed, he and Chocolate Soldier stood still as if real horses.

“So, that just about wraps it up for another Meet.” The judge continued over the PA. “I think we’ll all agree it’s been a great time and it’s very good to see some new ponies around the place. And, whilst on the subject of new ponies I think you’ll all agree that Candi Floss is one of the prettiest things we’ve seen in a long while and her display of sulky racing was a delight to watch and, I for one, look forward to seeing much more of her in the future. So, we’ll see you all next time at… Manor Farm, isn’t it.”

There was a shout of ‘That’s right; my place at the end of August. I’ll email details’ from one of the crowd and, with that, the meeting broke up. However, it was far from over for Jim. Now that the formal part of the Meet was completed the crowd came down to the floor of the arena to chat and socialise. There was still plenty of buffet left to eat and no one seemed I a hurry to rush off and, whilst they were chatting, several of the women came over and asked if they could take Zephyrus for a drive. Kathy, or rather Candi Floss was just as popular and there was some contention for the buggy. Eventually they compromised by taking turns as the various spectators mounted the sulky and drove them around. Just how he was treated varied greatly, some of the riders simply wanted to sit back and enjoy the ride; others wanted more of a race and would flick the buggy whip against his buttocks urging him on. Jim tried to give each one what she, and it always was a she, wanted, for the slower rides he'd emphasise his gait, showing off his pony style, for the faster ones he'd give them more of a race, sacrificing style for speed. Jim was in-between rides and standing next to Miss Worthing watching Kathy pull the sulky when Amy Rutherton came over.

“Don’t get too attached to that cup.” She said, half joking. “You can’t rely on this one…” she flicked Chocolate Soldier’s buttocks with her riding crop “making a mistake every time.”

“And this one…” Miss Worthing gave Jim a squeeze. “can only get faster. See you next time, Amy.”

Jim could tell that there was a friendly rivalry between the two women and he knew he had scored extra kudos by beating Chocolate Soldier. He wondered what, if anything, would be his reward.

At last the Meet was over and, one by one, the couples drifted off. There was some disappointment when Kathy was led away but Miss Thornton was adamant that her pony had had enough. Finally, Miss Worthing said goodbye to the last few guests and she, along with Jim and Mrs Johnson, were left alone in the arena. With a beaming smile on her face she took them back to the shower room and took extra care as she washed them down thoroughly before taking them back to the tack room to remove their pony gear. She stood Jim to one side as she worked on Mrs Johnson, starting with her tail and then freeing her wrists so that they could work together on the rest. As Miss Worthing knelt down to unfasten the pony boots Mrs Johnson loosened the straps on her bridle.

“Look, I've had a great night, really enjoyed myself but, do you know, I’ve got a bit of a headache coming on.” Mrs Johnson said once she had removed the bit from her mouth. “If you don’t mind I'll skip the next bit; I think I’ll take myself home.”

“Are you sure?” Miss Worthing asked with concern. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, I'm fine, well, not fine but… Look, I’ll call you tomorrow.” Mrs Johnson said as she worked on getting her harness off before putting on a loose tracksuit.

“Well, if you’re sure… tomorrow, then.” Miss Worthing said. She went over to Mrs Johnson and they kissed. Then, with a friendly wave to Jim Mrs Johnson was off leaving Miss Worthing alone with Jim.

“Now then, what are we going to do with you?” Miss Worthing said to Jim a broad smile on her face.