Anne, a young woman enters her flat after a night out with friends. Mildly fatigued, she slumps down in front of the television and switches it on.
"Oh great, some sad old couple and their perverted sex life". Said Anne, her comments directed at the telly.
On screen there was a middle-aged woman in a leather harness, she was talking, so her bit rested below her neck on its strap. The show then cut away to show the woman bitted, cantering round a field. 'Click' went the telly as Anne switched it off in disdain.
'Get a life, she thought and went to bed.

The next day Anne was seated at her desk stuck in front of her computer doing her routine, repetitive job when the image from last night popped into her mind.
'Dressing up as a horse? For fun?' thought Anne. 'Let's have a look on the net, you can find any kind of weirdness there!' Anne disregarded her job and loaded her browser software. After a few wrong turns she found what she was looking for, a whole site devoted to 'ponyplay'.
'Hey! Actually, this isn't that bad!' Thought Anne as she surveyed the gallery of pretty young fillies all dressed to perfection in their best tack.

Anne looked up and saw the comings and going's of the office staff and remembered what she was supposed to be doing.
'Wouldn't do to get caught, especially looking at this sort of stuff', she thought, and with that she logged off and forgot about it.

A week later Anne was browsing through a music store. She wandered the aisles surveying the racks of albums, now and then selecting one for closer inspection. Eventually deciding to add it to the ones she'd already picked or to put it back. She didn't just browse the shelves, she also surveyed the other customers. She would examine the female customers and their dress sense, the men she'd observe and rate their appearance and suitability as a potential boyfriend, not that she'd act upon her finding's though.
After becoming satisfied that she had selected all the CD's she wanted she breezed over to the pay desk. She handed her purchases over to the young, unshaven, spiky haired clerk and gave a small smile not that she really cared. She handed over her card and then signed the receipt and accepted the newly filled bag of CD's as it was passed to her. With that she turned and strolled out onto the landing which led to the stairs. Now this shop had a strange layout, it had been converted from a building that had had a completely different purpose. What that had been she didn't know but on this landing was a magazine rack. Like any modern store they we're keen to use every bit of floor space available. Being a store aimed at the younger demographic, in amongst the music and film magazines where a whole array of alternative lifestyle publications. Anne, who was in no hurry scanned the shelves to see what wonders it bestowed and there it was, her eyes became transfixed. It wasn't a ponyplay magazine, even this store had its limits. Instead it was one of the more mainstream fetish titles, it didn't even have a ponygirl on the cover. No, what was so special about this magazine was the girl on the cover, clad from collar to ankle in shiny latex rubber.
Anne looked around furtively and seeing no one was looking gently lifted the magazine. She dared only a quick ruffle through the pages but the fleeting glimpses of young bodies clad in all manners of outrageous garments sent a thrill through Anne's mind.
Anne bathed in the thrill and delight of the situation! Subtle shades of embarrassment and shame came over her, reminding her of petulant days as a young girl, eager to avoid capture in public whilst in the midst of doing something slightly naughty.
'I have to buy this,' she thought, 'but I've already been through the till once. The clerk will recognise me and think I'm buying it on impulse for an illicit thrill, which, let's face it, is exactly what I'm doing.'
'I know, I'll put on my sunglasses and act like I don't care, I'll pretend I buy these magazines all the time. I'm a young, free, single modern woman, we do things like this all the time'. With that, Anne strode back to the counter making sure she kept the cover side turned toward her body.

Anne dropped into the empty seat of her train home. The train was fairly crowded but everyone had a seat and the one next to her was empty. Anne was dying for a look at her new magazine but didn't want to risk being seen, but her desire got the better of her and she furtively started to flick through the pages.

Anne had thought for a while that there must be more to life than going to pubs with her mates and dating crappy blokes and her career was going nowhere. The acts depicted in the magazine weren't to her taste at all, but she loved the fashion or rather the material as she imagined the feel of the tight latex on her skin. As she flipped through the pages an image caught her eye. One of the models was wearing a bit gag like she'd seen on telly the other night, she was a latex pony thought Anne and then it hit her, that's what she must do, she must get her own outfit and become a latex pony.

Over the next few days Anne found herself aching with anticipation. Over the net she'd ordered a particularly attractive bit gag and a latex top and trousers and she couldn't wait for them to arrive. Each night on the way back from work she'd imagine the parcel waiting for her. That thought alone was enough to give her goose pimples.
'What if it gets opened?' She worried, 'nah, I'm just being irrational'.

A week later, Anne arrived home to find a large parcel waiting for her. She got a knife form the kitchen draw and slit the tapes. She was too keen to get it open to risk wrestling with the tapes as she'd done on previous occasions. And there it was sitting on top of the other items her first bit-gag. Anne tore open the plastic and pulled out the gag. She marvelled at its shape and design as she felt the hardness of the rubber. She raised it tentatively like an innocent schoolgirl about to receive her first kiss. She then opened her mouth and pressed the bit between her teeth, biting down on the rubber.
'Yes she thought, I'm a pony at last'.

Anne scrabbled with the straps as she tried to get the strap though the buckle behind her head. The end of the strap found it's mark and soon Anne was pulling the strap tight, the leather pressing against the back of her head. Anne flipped the buckle into the appropriate hole and that was it she was bitted. Anne skipped over to the mirror like a young girl with a new hair clip and just admired herself. She had to admit, she looked gorgeous. Her petite Swedish features set off beautifully by the large chromed rings on the gag and her pretty mouth held open by the bit. Anne smiled and was again thrilled by her own prettiness.

Anne's repeated transformation into a pony was to become a regular thing. A treat to herself. She would come home, get changed, and sometimes spend the whole night as a pony only removing the bit to eat or drink. Anne even took the precaution of installing a mirror on the back of her front door just in case she got too comfortable and answered the door in harness.

Anne would even use the outfit as a pick me up after a hard day. Just the thought of having the bit between her teeth during the working day offered her comfort from the stresses of daily working life.

To be continued.....