Strider's Day in the Sun

Seconds after her leaving, another ponygirl, this one from the far right end of the second row, was ordered forward, and she reacted the same as the first one had. Once again, the audience let her know of their appreciation, and the same two men stepped up and looked her over as closely as they had the other, and marked on their clipboards until they stepped back. The second ponygirl, on order of her master, strode away to join the first one in the center of the field.

"They're judging them!" Strider realized. "They'll be judging me too!" She resolved to be the best, and win whatever prize would be offered.

Strider was the third ponygirl from the end of the first row, meaning she would be the ninth to be judged. She eagerly waited for the eighth one to finish being inspected and, when she heard her master's voice and felt the reins against her shoulders and back, she tossed her head and mane and whinnied. Having expressed her happiness, Strider threw her breasts out, made sure her arms were tightly restrained, and strutted forward. Her chin was perfectly parallel with the ground, as were her thighs when she raised them, and she thumped her feet solidly into the soft dirt with every step. Strider even swiveled her hips slightly, enough for her tail to swish in time with her paces, and to cause sexual thrills to emanate from her ass and course through her body. She was even able to make the bells jingle in time with her paces. The day had been somewhat tiring, although not as bad as some parades she had marched in, but the prospect of competing with the other ponygirls revitalized her.

The crowd roared with applause, louder than for anybody up until then. "Whoa!" her master ordered her, and Strider stopped dead in her tracks, planting her feet firmly on the ground, her back straight as she stood absolutely motionless for the judges to begin their inspection.

"Her name is Strider," announced one of them, and both men wrote that information on the papers on their clipboards. After that, they examined her more closely than anybody, even her physician, had ever done. Both judges weighed her breasts in their hands while they stroked her nipples with their thumbs. They commented on and made notes of the size of the twin beauties and the extreme rigidity of her nipples, because she had been growing more highly aroused ever since leaving the barn. They noted and recorded the beauty of her mane and the way her hips and buttocks flared out from her back and curved around and under, to merge with her long, shapely legs. They caressed and fondled Strider in her most private places and observed how her tail extended out from her ass. One of them used his finger to collect some of the juice that was continually flowing from her pussy, and tasted it. Both judges made notes of everything they saw and smelled and tasted, as well as of the way the ponygirl stood absolutely still during their detailed and very personal inspections.

They said nothing about her arousal, which should have been obvious from the rigid state of her nipples, the flush on her chest that was visible between the straps of her harness and, most of all, by the aroma of the juices that were copiously flowing from her pussy. Nothing was said except that, after their inspection, one judge said to her master, "You are one lucky guy". Strider didn't hear or see any response he might have made, just his series of orders to go from the judging place to the middle of the field and join the eight others who had preceded her. She gladly obeyed, and strutted out in response to her reins, still in parade attitude.

Apparently, the judging was the last thing that would be done that day. The other ponygirls and their masters were all standing in relaxed postures, with slack reins. Strider felt a hand on her bare shoulder, the first time anybody had touched her since inserting her tail. She turned to that side and saw it was her master. Except for verbal commands, he hadn't spoken to her at all, not even when he had taken her reins and, of course, she had been unable to speak, even if she would have considered it proper. The only other communication between them had been her whinnying and the orders given to her through her reins.

"You were great, Strider," he told her, standing close to her with one arm affectionately around her shoulders.

She blushed, or maybe it was just a sudden increase in her sexual arousal. Strider tossed her head and whinnied, and leaned toward him to nuzzle the side of her head against her master's face. It was, she knew, the way a horse or pony demonstrates affection, and she was feeling a great deal of that for him, besides the strong carnal desires that were throbbing so urgently through her body. The day had been a tremendous amount of fun, and she hoped it was going to get even better.

Apparently, her master hoped so too, and he had to be aware of how urgent her sexual needs had become by that time. He moved closer, and spoke in a quiet, almost conspiratorial voice. "After we get the results of the judging, do you want to go to my van with me?"

She had seen quite a few of those vehicles parked inside the tall chain link fence. Strider was well aware of what they could be used for, having seen the interiors of similar vans, and she wanted nothing more than to join her wonderful master in his. Because of the way he had handled her reins to order her about, her desire for him had been growing all afternoon, and she was elated it would, or should, be satisfied soon. Not able to speak, nor wanting to, she nodded her head and rubbed her face against him again, as a pony might. Although thinking of herself as a pony, as she had been doing all afternoon, Strider was a woman too, and a very horny one, and she also responded as a woman might to his proposal. As her head nuzzled her master's face, she turned enough to press her luscious breasts against his arm, and move her upper body from side to side to caress him with them and let him feel her erect nipples through his shirt sleeve. Strider wanted to leave no doubt that she wanted to fuck at least as much as he did.

Her master smiled at Strider's unmistakable answer. With his right arm across her shoulders, he reached his other hand up to lightly fondle one of her breasts. It was firm, with soft, smooth skin, and one of the most delightful things his hand had ever felt. His thumb brushed against the big, rosy pink nipple, and it was fully erect, and he could feel the individual ridges that gave it that texture. She could see how much her master enjoyed touching her breast, so Strider moved her body closer to enable him to more easily reach the other one as well. Knowing he was doing something with her that he liked was enough to increase her already towering sexual arousal.

Ray was almost as horny as his ponygirl, and he backed away. "After the judging, in my van, my hands will be all over you, but we'd better take it easy for now. You are the sexiest girl I've ever seen, but I want to save it for later." He was not concerned about being seen fondling the ponygirl; quite a few others were doing much the same thing. He was aware that many of the other masters would be leading or directing their charges to their own vans, Max among them. For a long time, his friend had been crowing about what a beautiful and sexy ponygirl he was fucking every Saturday but, on that day, Ray would be able to match him. He also hoped they could establish a permanent relationship, with him as her master every Saturday.

The last of the ponygirls strutted up to join the group, and they all waited expectantly. Some were anxious to hear the results of the judging, and others wanted to get it over so the sex part of the day would get started. Some just wanted to go home. Most of them knew they weren't going to win any of the prizes, but they waited, rather than committing the gaffe of leaving the formation before the prizes were awarded. It took no more than a few minutes to total the judges' score sheets, and the public address came on.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, The Pony Farm is happy to announce that the winners of the yellow ribbon for third place today are...." There was a brief pause for dramatic effect before the announcer continued. "Max Boatman and Blondie." The audience cheered, and the other masters applauded, and those ponygirls who knew Blondie, including Strider and her other friends, whinnied and tossed their heads in equine congratulation.

Max urged Blondie forward and, under his guidance, she strutted back to where the judges were waiting, and was instructed to stand on a low platform, with Max behind her, reins held tautly in his hands. With the third place finisher positioned, the announcer made his presence known again.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, The Pony Farm is happy to announce that the winners of the red ribbon for second place today are....Richard Williams and Scarlet."

The audience and the other masters and the other ponygirls reacted the same way, and a tall, beautiful ponygirl in black harness and bridle strutted toward the judges, her long red mane rippling in the breeze. She was directed to a slighter higher platform than that occupied by Blondie, and her master stood behind her, holding her reins. There was another platform between the others, and taller than either.

After a moment of silence, the announcer was ready to tell everybody the name of the first prize winner. "Ladies and Gentlemen, The Pony Farm is happy to announce that the first place winner, the best of a fine group of ponygirls and masters is...." He paused even longer for effect before continuing. "Ray Wilson and Strider." The audience, which was generally in agreement with the decision, applauded again, along with the other masters. Strider being a newcomer and not known by the other ponygirls, her victory elicited less response, but Strutter and Lightning made up for it as well as they could.

Once again, the elated Strider obeyed the orders of her master and marched across the field to where recognition awaited her. Although she knew her destination was the platform between the two other ponygirls, she followed his directions in getting to it, and waited until she was directed to stand there before taking her place. When all were in position, the presentation ceremony began. The owner of The Ponygirl Farm, who had also been the announcer, congratulated Max and shook his hand for the performance of Blondie, and hung the yellow ribbon around his neck.

He did the same to Richard Williams for the performance of Scarlet, and hung the red ribbon around that gentleman's neck. Strider was standing even more straight and tall than she had been all day as she heard her master congratulated. She didn't look behind, and hadn't seen any of the ribbons presented, but she didn't care. Strider was proud and elated that she had helped her master win the first prize that day. She was also the horniest she had ever been in her life, and was looking forward to what would be happening in his van, now that the prizes had been awarded.

With the presentation of the ribbons, the day was over, and the announcer thanked everybody for their attendance, and urged them to drive carefully on their way home. Those ponygirls who had not won any prizes started toward the barn, still controlled by their masters, but with their steps not as crisp as they had been earlier. Some of them would be joining their masters for sex. Some of them were wives or girl friends of their masters and they would be heading home for the best sex of the week, either still wearing their tack or not. Others, including Strutter and Lightning, would be going straight to the barn. After putting their own clothing back on, they would head for home, or wait for a friend who, like Blondie and Strider, had "gotten lucky".

*

Thank you for reading this part of the story of Strider. I hope you had as much fun as Strider and Ray did, and as much as they and Blondie and Max will be having. I like writing stories on Literotica, but I like it a lot more when I know that people are reading and enjoying them, and I appreciate it when readers take the time to express their opinions by voting. Like most authors on Literotica, I practically live for feedback from readers, either public comments or email to me. Such feedback, whether praise or criticism, helps me to write more and better stories, and I respond to it whenever I can.