A Bridal Bridle
by Nob

We had practiced for several days, and now it was time for the wedding itself. Well, it wouldn't be a real wedding, given the traditional relationship between a Master and a ponygirl, but I wanted some way to formalize a connection between myself and my favorite pet, Scamper. So I had fixed up the showroom in the large barn on my estate for the occasion, invited a dozen or so Ponymasters from the area (suggesting they bring a few of their own girls in appropriately festive restraint), and had my own stable ready to serve as usherettes, waitresses, and so on. It was to be a memorable event.

Now I stood beside the altar, dressed in a handsome cutaway of oiled black leather, with "Tack" Buckler, my chief trainer, beside me to serve as Best Man. Our minister would be a real Pastor who kept a few ponygirls at someone else's ranch for his own private amusement but was otherwise a proper leader of the local religious body. He was "offstage" now but would appear on schedule.

Right on time, the music started. The organist, one of my more talented girls, was playing the deeply moving "Bondage Hymn" that was so right for the event, and that meant that my favorite pet would appear shortly at the rear of the room. First, though, two quartettes of flower girls were led forward by my guards. They were in a "daisy-chain" devised by Tack, and made a most impressive sight. The lead girl had a bouquet fixed in front to her labial rings, and she was attached to the girl behind her by a yard-long rod that had an anal plug at the front end and a dildo at the rear. The second girl was similarly connected to the third girl, as was the third to the last. And the last wore a full array of flowers attached to her anal plug. Straps to their corsets held the rods firmly up in place.

In addition, each had a long U-bar that went across the back of her shoulders, holding her upper arms strapped to it so that they stuck out at each side, and a vertical attachment at each end of this bar that held her forearms erect with a large cluster of flowers in each hand. The girls' breasts were wreathed with more flowers attached to their nipple rings, and more blossoms were fastened at the sides of their gags. They were hobbled, of course, and once in place were directed to kneel so as not to obstruct the audience's view. Their grunts of discomfort revealed the cruelties inflicted by the rods that connected them.

Once these decorations were in place, Maxi McIntire, Commander of my guards, entered at the rear of the barn, garbed in a red latex cat-suit and looking sternly determined to do her job as it should be done. Behind her, of course, came my chosen one.

Scamper was tall, blonde, lushly proportioned, and voluptuous to a fare-thee-well. The thing that made her so attractive to me was that she was equally enthusiastic for both sex and bondage. She could never get enough of either, it seemed, and that made her a real prize. With pride and lusty anticipation, I watched her proceed slowly down the aisle behind Maxi, taking the quick, precise steps that her hobble required.

Despite the thick halo of bright flowers about her head, it was clear that she was wearing a taut-strapped bridle which served as a platform for the flowers and also held a hinged bit between her jaws. The bit was also connected to the back of her collar and parts of it ran across both her upper and lower lips, but the bit itself was hinged and could be unlocked from its position and swung out to one side if there were need for her to use her mouth. A more detailed description of her outfit for this momentous day will be in order here.

Connected to her bridle was a high silver collar about her throat that anchored a waist-length cape of white leather that hung down behind and covered her close-strapped arms. They were held in a stern forearm-X, with each wrist drawn up toward the opposite shoulder by a strap that ran up over that shoulder, back under it, across her back and thus across both forearms, to pass beneath her other underarm and up, to be buckled to the other end of the strap from the other wrist. This position wrenched her shoulders back harshly so that she could not bend her torso at all and at the same time forced her to thrust her magnificently full, firm breasts outward in fabulous display.

Her breasts were used in a most interesting way. Each had been tunneled deep behind the nipple, and rings were locked in place there now. The reins by which Maxi led her were attached to these rings, but there was more. She was also fitted with silver nipple-cones, each one tightened over its tender bud and tipped with a large diamond in place of the usual tightening ring. The stones glittered and sparkled as her breasts swayed back and forth.

A narrow corselet of silver chainmail cinched her waist in to truly waspish circumference, and from it a bodystrap of the same material was drawn down and back between her thighs. Although tight enough to apply constant pressure there, its main purpose was to hold the great plume of a tail that sprang upward from between her buns, swishing back and forth behind her with her every step. A short anal plug at its lower end served to keep it from tilting too much in either direction, but was not so long as to inflict real discomfort.

Her long, shapely legs were shod in calf-high pony boots of white leather, each one forcing her to bend a foot straight down so that she had to stand on just the two horseshoes beneath the balls of her feet. The ends of the horseshoes extended back beneath her heels so that keeping her balance was not a real problem. And a mere twelve inches of tinkling silver chain linked the heavy cuffs clamped about her ankles. Short, respectful paces are always required of a ponygirl - unless she is in a race, of course - and I could not allow an exception in her case.

Maxi led her to the steps that led up to the platform on which the altar stood, and on command she dropped carefully to her knees. She looked up at me, her eyes shining with excitement, and I smiled down at her. Then the Pastor came forward to stand next to me. He looked at the assembled audience of Masters and ponygirls and then announced, "Welcome to you all. We are here this afternoon to witness the formal union of this Master and this ponygirl. Will the ponygirl please come up here?"

Scamper of course obeyed, stepping gingerly up the steps until she was standing beside me. The Pastor took her reins from Maxi, who then moved to one side, and asked her solemnly, "Do you, formerly known as Greta Bjornhold, foreswear your given name forever and accept in its stead your permanent new name, Scamper?"

Scamper stomped her right boot three times, nodded her head as vigorously as her collar would allow, and gave an authentic-sounding whinny to indicate her full agreement. There was scattered applause from the audience.

Then the Pastor asked, "And do you, Scamper, accept Master Brent Lashmeister as your sole owner as long as he shall want you?" Again, Scamper stomped her boot and whinnied her acceptance of the charge. I sucked in a deep breath of pride. She answered his third question with even more enthusiasm: "And do you, Scamper, swear to obey your Master's every command to the very best of your ability, and to accept without complaint whatever discipline your Master inflicts when you fail to obey him?"

"Will you now place the ring upon your Master's finger?" Maxi came to stand in front of Scamper and unlocked the gag between her jaws so that she could use her mouth. Maxi took a massive gold ring from her belt and carefully set it between Scamper's lips. It had been especially designed for me, taking the form of a coiled whip with the butt standing up where a jewel would usually be. My new "bride" knelt and I held out my left hand so that she could reach my ring-finger. It was not easy for her to maneuver her head properly, but eventually she had the ring over the tip of my finger and then used her tongue to moisten the finger so that she could force the ring all the way down to past my knuckles with her teeth. After it was properly positioned, she laved my finger with her tongue as though it were the male member. But she said nothing, and cooperated readily when Maxi put her gag back in between her teeth and locked it there.

The Pastor then turned to me. "Do you, Master Lashmeister, take this ponygirl to be your favorite pet for as long as you wish to own her?" My answer was loud and triumphant: "Yes, I certainly do!"

There were more questions. "Do you swear to keep this ponygirl in strict bondage at all times, training her to obey your every command and administering the appropriate discipline whenever it is needed? Do you swear to keep her in good health, to maintain her beauty, and to let others know that she is your personal favorite slave? Will you allow her to service others in any way that you choose, whenever the occasion warrants it?"

My response was of course, "Yes, indeed!"

Now it was my turn to fit her with a "union ring." We had had her septum tunneled a few months ago and now the quarter-inch hole was ready for her ring. The workmanship was so fine that one could scarcely see the hinge. As she held her head up for me, I inserted one end of the ring through her septum and then closed it with a permanent lock. The gold glittered as it hung just below her nose, barely touching her upper lip. Scamper nodded her head with satisfaction and blinked back tears of joy.

The Pastor then spoke loudly so that all could hear, "I now pronounce you Master and Favored Ponygirl. He said, finally, "You may kiss your pet."

We had decided ahead of time that her gag should be removed for this final part of the ceremony, and Maxi did so. Then I took Scamper into my arms, squeezing her fiercely, and placed my mouth over hers. She barely had time to hum her gratitude before my tongue invaded her moist, eager mouth and slapped harshly at her trembling tongue. I could feel her quake with excitement, and knew that she could feel the growing expression of my own manhood through my trousers. She squirmed happily, rubbing her diamond-tipped breasts against my chest. This was as satisfying as I could have imagined, and I allowed my hands to rub her back and buns while maintaining all the oral pressure I could muster. Her responsive wriggles and moans told me just how much she too was enjoying the experience.

While this was going on, I could see Tack leave the dais. He was going to fetch the two-wheeled sulky in which I would ride behind my new "bride." Once it was in place just in front of the dais, Maxi came over and carefully threaded Scamper's reins through ringbolts set at the sides of her collar. Then she produced an odd device that would serve as a halter. It was a thick roll of leather that curved about the back of her neck and then down to just below her armpits. It was held in place by a strap that passed beneath her breasts and around to be locked at the lower end of the opposite halter-end.

Maxi then led Scamper down to stand with the sulky behind her. Drawbars were fixed to the two lower ends of the halter because I did not want the usual single bar between her legs, or even the two bars fixed at the sides of her corselet. She would thus pull me in true pony-style, even though on any other day I would have chosen the single bar.

I thanked the Pastor and went down the steps to get on my chariot. Maxi handed me the reins and I shook them to inform Samper of my intentions. She obediently moved forward three paces and then halted so that I could address the crowd.

"As you can see, my friends, my Number-One ponygirl has been ringed, reined, and haltered, and now will pull me up the hill to my mansion." Applause greeted this announcement, and then shouts and laughter as I added, "And you can bet I will ride her long and hard tonight - and for the weeks and months that lie ahead!

I snapped my whip once, just grazing her buns, and Scamper moved smartly ahead, down the aisle among the cheering onlookers, and through the gate. "Faster, pet!" I urged, and together we moved as swiftly up the incline toward my castle-like home as her hobble would allow. I planned to spend a long, long time with her in the privacy of my chambers, the hardening weapon between my legs promising to make this an evening long to be remembered. As I thought of all the different ways my pet would be confined this evening, I watched my ponygirl's body with growing impatience. One more crack of the whip and our night of sex and bondage would commence!

The End