Pony Club, part 1

Written by The Englishman

Part 1 (note: NOT chapter 1)

Some of you might think that I'm writing this as a way to expunge my guilt. Some might think that I'm looking for understanding or forgiveness. A small few of you might want to believe that it's part of some kind of therapy program imposed by those damned doctors who damned me.

You'd all be wrong.

I have no guilt - apparently I'm incapable of feeling guilt.

Understanding and forgiveness are for the weak and cowardly and I assure you, I'm not one of them.

Therapy? Don't make me laugh! I've had therapy, I know all about therapy and the charlatan doctors who claim to practice it.

My hospital record mentions the word psychopath several times but if you believe a word those fucking witch-doctors say then you probably need therapy yourself.

It seems that I'm safe enough, by their weird standards, to walk the streets so long as I take the pills. Needless to say I have no intention of filling my body with drugs. I don't even take aspirin so I'm certainly not about to take anything that fuzzes my thinking and stops me from getting an erection.

It's very simple. I'm writing this for the money, a substantial sum even by my standards. If some publisher thinks he can make a profit from me then he's welcome to it, just so long as I get my lump up front.

I'm supposed to open the first part of the book with some shocking account that will grab the readers' and the critics' attention. The smarmy wet prat that the publishers sent round, just can't seem to get his head around the fact that nothing I've done is shocking - not to me anyway.

He suggested that it would be shocking if I used the first chapter to write about the youngest cunt I ever fucked.

That's fine by me but I think it's a bit short-sighted of them. If sometime in the next few months, I see an eight year old girl who takes my fancy then the first chapter will be out of date anyway.

Not my problem once I've got my wedge. So, for now at any rate, this is Chapter One:

I'd known Penny for about four years. I owned a riding school and livery stable and she'd joined the young riders' pony club as an enthusiastic eight year old. She was a quiet timid girl, typical of lots of kids her age - shy and reserved until she was talking about or around horses - then she came to life with a vivacity and sparkle that transformed her totally. All she had wanted in life was to learn to ride and that is exactly what she did.

The only reason that I even noticed her at first was because she was a quick learner and an excellent rider with an instinctive ability. Still, the world is full of pretty eight year old girls who love horses and Penny was just another one to me. I didn't have much to do with the horses or the riders anyway - for me it's a business, not a social club - and so it wasn't until a year later that Penny came to my attention again.

I deal in horses and so it was natural that Penny's parents came to me when, in the first year of her learning to ride, they decided to buy the girl her own pony.

Despite her excitement and impatience to own a horse, Penny showed a restraint and selectivity that is rare in many adults, let alone in a nine year old girl. It took several weeks before we found a horse that captured her attention - a five year old piebald mare which, at first sight, appeared to be fairly unremarkable.

After the usual vet's exam prior to the sale, I was mildly surprised to learn that Penny, for all her youth and inexperience, had made an excellent choice.

The pony was stabled at the riding school on half livery. Again, this was a normal enough arrangement and I probably wouldn't have paid it too much attention except that the sight of young Penny with white paint spattered on her nose and the tip of her tongue protruding from between her lips as she concentrated on painting the pony's name, Cloud, on the door of the stall, stuck in my mind.

She was just a nine year old kid but the picture of Penny with the tip of her tongue between her lips and the look of fierce concentration that furrowed her brow, haunted me. Suddenly she was more than just another one of the twenty or so kids who stabled their ponies with me.

I was suddenly conscious that this child was female - not that my addiction to young girls had reached as low as nine year olds but there was something special about Penny and I found myself going out of my way to catch sight of her whenever she was at the stables. More than that, I found myself missing her when she wasn't around.

Not that I consciously entertained any thoughts of a sexual nature about her but I wanted to know her better and be closer to her - and I couldn't erase the image of that cute little tongue tip peeking from between those soft pink lips. The cute little tongue gives it away, I suppose - just because they weren't conscious ones, it didn't mean that I had no thoughts of a sexual nature at all.

I suppose that was the trigger really. The point that transformed little Penny from a kid with a horse to a legitimate target, the point when an anonymous little girl became a fuckable cunt. ......(cont)

.......Read the entire Pony Club, part 1 ....written by The Englishman.
Copyright © 2008 The Englishman. ALL Rights Reserved









This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.


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