A Pony Named Buttercup

This morning I got thoroughly ass fucked and paddled. 

 Then I made scones.  

Beaming and singing around the kitchen is a sure sign of a very much fucked slave around here :).  

This afternoon we went to a class at our local munch about pony and pet play.  We don't really do this, but I did happen to have an unused bit gag in the toy bag.  Fitted with a couple of dog leashes for reins, suddenly I was a ponygirl!   It was an interesting experience.  I don't know if we'll do it more, but I certainly can get into feeling horsey, or "pony space" as they say.  I didn't even feel silly about it, except that the gag made me drool, and that made me self conscious, so I kept taking it out to swallow.  Master purposely loosened it up so I could take it in and out and not drool all over the place.     I very much enjoyed the times he would literally tighten the reins and pull my head down, or pull it back and up to uncomfortable angles.  It is just so... well... so much loss of control to have one's head moved about like that.  Then he got out the riding crop, and whoooo, man! 

He thinks he could get into me dragging him around in a cart and swishing me with a dressage whip... anyone want to loan us a cart?   

On the way home he told me my "pony name" could be Buttercup.