MORNINGWOOD RANCH V

The ranch house stood quiet, smoke curling from its stone chimney. Cassia raised her hand to knock, but the door swung open before her knuckles made contact. Fabia stood in the doorway, already dressed in her working leathers, auburn braid hanging thick down her back. Her green eyes held no surprise.

"I had a feeling you'd come early," Fabia said, stepping aside. "Nervous?"

"Yes," Cassia admitted, crossing into the warm interior. The house smelled of cedar and leather.

"Good. Nerves keeps things exciting." Fabia closed the door behind them and gestured toward the back of the house. "This way. We'll get you tacked in my private quarters to keep away any prying eyes."

Cassia followed her through a cozy sitting room into a bedroom that was functional rather than decorative, a large bed with simple linens, a wooden wardrobe, and in the center of the space, a leather-padded grooming table. Laid out upon it was a full set of pony tack: the collar, bridle with its molded leather ears, bit, arm sleeve, bustier, tail plug, and boots.

Her breath caught.

"We'll start with the boots," Fabia said, her voice shifting into something more clinical, more authoritative. It was the voice she used with the ponies, not cruel, but commanding. "Strip."

Cassia hesitated for only a moment before reaching for the hem of her tunic. She pulled it over her head. Within moments she stood naked before the older woman, her olive skin prickling with gooseflesh despite the warmth of the room.

Fabia circled her slowly, green eyes moving over Cassia's body with the same appraising gaze she might give a new filly at auction. When she completed her circuit, she let out a low hum of approval.

"You have a good frame for a pony ****," Fabia said, reaching out to run a callused hand down Cassia's spine. The touch sent a shiver through her. "Long legs, strong back, good hip structure. And your proportions..." Her hand curved around Cassia's waist. "Trim enough to be fast, but with enough curve to catch a stallion's eye. Thunderbolt was built like you when she first came to me."

Cassia's six-inch cock had begun to stiffen despite her nervousness, and she felt the familiar slickness gathering between her thighs. She tried to suppress her body's response, but Fabia noticed immediately, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips.

"No shame in being aroused," Fabia said, picking up the knee-high leather boots. "The tack is designed to encourage it. Now, lift your foot."

Cassia obeyed, allowing Fabia to slide the first boot onto her leg. The leather was supple and warm, molding to her calf as Fabia laced it tight. The heel was wide and high, four inches at least, and when Cassia put her weight on it, she felt her pelvis tilt forward, her rear lifting automatically. The effect was immediate and intentional.

"Good," Fabia said, securing the second boot. "Now the bustier."

The leather corset was laced up Cassia's back, cinching her waist and pushing her modest breasts upward, only covering their undersides. Her nipples, already tight from the morning chill, stood out prominently. The bustier left everything else exposed, including her ass, cock, and pussy. There was no hiding anything in this outfit.

"Arms behind your back," Fabia instructed, and Cassia complied, feeling the leather sleeve slide over her forearms before Fabia fastened the buckles. Her arms were now pinned firmly behind her, shoulders drawn back, chest thrust forward. The vulnerability of the position crashed over her like cold water.

"The tail next." Fabia held up the butt plug, its attached tail somehow matching the color of her hair. "This will feel strange at first. Try to relax."

Cassia bit her lip as Fabia lubricated the plug and pressed it gently against her anus. She pushed back instinctively, then **** herself to still as the plug slid inside her. The sensation was foreign but not unpleasant, a constant, low-level pressure that seemed to connect directly to the arousal pooling inside her.

Fabia stepped back to admire her work, then picked up the bridle. But before she brought it to Cassia's face, she held up the collar, a thick band of black leather studded with small bronze rivets, a ring at the front for attaching a lead.

"I need to ask you something before this goes on," Fabia said, her voice softening slightly. "What would you like your pony name to be? Once the collar is fastened, you won't be able to tell me."

Cassia looked at the collar, at the bridle and bit, at the tail she could feel resting against the backs of her thighs. A memory surfaced, warm and safe. A wooden toy horse she had played with as a child, before her primacy, before any of this confusing complexity had entered her life.

"Mustang," she uttered.

Fabia smiled. "A strong name. Fitting." She stepped behind Cassia and fastened the collar around her throat. The leather was snug but not tight, and Cassia felt a faint tingle of magic ripple across her skin as the enchantment took hold.

"Try to say something," Fabia suggested.

Cassia opened her mouth to speak but what emerged was a soft, whuffling neigh, almost gentle in its tone.

Her eyes widened.

Fabia nodded approvingly. "Good. Now the rest." She fitted the bridle over Cassia's head, the leather ears standing straight up from the crown, and slid the bit between Cassia's teeth. Cassia closed her mouth around it, tasting metal and leather. The bridle buckled behind her head, and just like that, Mustang existed and Cassia Longwood had disappeared.

Fabia attached a lead to the collar's front ring and gave it a gentle tug. "Follow, Mustang."

The boots made her walk differently, a high-stepping gait that felt both awkward and strangely natural, her hips swaying with each step. The tail plug shifted inside her as she moved, and the bustier kept her breasts on display, her cock bobbing gently with each stride. She felt exposed in ways she had never imagined, **** beyond measure.

And shamefully, achingly aroused.

Fabia led her to the front door and opened it. The morning air washed over Cassia's naked skin, and she hesitated on the threshold. The safety of the house lay behind her, the unknown stretched ahead. From this point onwards, anyone could see her like this.

Fabia tugged the lead again, gently but firmly. "No hesitation, Mustang. A good pony follows."

Cassia stepped outside.

The walk to the barn felt eternal and instantaneous all at once. Cassia kept her eyes lowered, watching the dirt pass beneath her booted feet, but she was acutely aware of everything, the cool air on her exposed breasts, the weight of the tail swaying behind her, the soft jingle of the lead's clip against her collar. They passed the paddocks where a few early-rising ponies lifted their heads to watch, their own collars glinting in the growing light.

Then a voice called out, and Cassia's heart stopped.