The Lesson

As She walked along, Her mind wandered. As unlikely as it seemed, She was bored. Her slaves obeyed her implicitly. Her hypnotic skills had been tested and honed in every possible circumstance; no male --- no person --- could withstand Her hypnotic power. She needed new heights to scale --- another challenge. Perhaps it was time for Her to make the world a better place, and extend Her abilities in mystical hypnosis.

"Ponyboy." The word came from that deep part of Her that She had learned to trust. Ponyboy. That had the right flavor. But so limited! Making a man get down on hands and knees, bridle in mouth, to run around with Her mounted on his back. Not nearly challenging enough. Something with a retributive flavor. That broke new ground.
Yes.

As was often the case with Her ideas, the perfect subject presented himself. A cowboy, coming out of that bar. Cowboy hat, cowboy shirt, jeans, even chaps, and cowboy boots. And attached to those boots --- spurs. Instruments of cruelty. A perfect victim.

Her stride on her lovely legs lengthened. As they passed, she lurched sideways. A gentleman (in his own eyes), the cowboy touched his ten gallon hat and said, "Sorry, Ma'am."

"Ma'am". Her eyes burned with the insult, unintentional though it was, but she smiled. "Quite all right. Perhaps your eyes was momentarily caught by my pendant." She fingered it, making it move between her perfect breasts. "It often catches the eye of people. It is very beautiful, don't you think?"

"Yes, Ma'am." His eyes were already vacent, the confusion of whether to look at the jewel or her lovely breasts depotentiating his conscious mind.

"It is so lovely that it makes it hard to think. So very hard to think. Jewels seem to be out of story, don't they? They inspire dreams. Dreams of far away places. So far away now. It's easier to dream with your eyes closed." His eyes closed and he swayed. "Such a good boy. Dreaming now. Dreaming of being with Me. Of never leaving Me, the woman of your dreams. Dreams that can become reality. So deep in the dream now. So very deep. And you want to be with Me forever now, don't you, boy?"

He muttered now, so deep in her spell. "Yes, Ma'am."

Her voice sharpened. "From this time forward, you will call Me Mistress. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mistress."

She glanced up and down the street. They were alone, but it seemed a bit public. There was an alley nearby. That would do well. "Follow me now, boy." He followed her docilely, down into the alley, out of sight. "What is your name, boy?"

"Tom, Mistress."

"Well, Tom, you want to be strong for Me now, just as I want you to be, don't you?" He nodded vacently. "And such strong legs, and such an incredibly strong rump. Your legs are strong right down to your hoofs." The terms were confusing him; a small wrinkle appeared between his brows. This led him deeper into Her trance. "Yes, Tom, so strong. You've always secretly envied those strong stallions, with their strong muscles and huge dicks, haven't you?" He nodded again, eyes still closed, but a small smile on his face. "Yes, such a long, strong dick, so well endowed, so long and thick you can service any mare in the pasture. You want a dick like that, don't you, Tom?" He nodded again, the smile bigger. "Then you must be hung like a horse. A huge, strong horse. The strongest stallion you have ever seen." His jeans tented, bulging now. "But it must be real, Tom. You must really *be* that stallion. You feel your muscles growing stronger, stronger, much stronger than a man's muscles. Your dick is so long and strong. Such a strong nose and mouth, a horse's head, not that small man's head." To her delight, it was actually working, his form was blurring in the dim alley light. "That's right, Tom, so strong for Me, wanting to obey, wanting that strength, that power of a horse's rump and muscles, that incredible rump, the strong back, the graceful neck." He was actually metamorphizing now, and She continued to talk, guiding him in the transformation that was both hypnotic and magical, born of Her power. Soon, much faster than she had expected, there was no longer a man standing there, but a magnificent horse, large and powerful.

She started walking, and the horse followed as if it already wore a bridle. "And you belong only to Me, obey only Me, isn't that right, Tom?" The horse blew air out between it's teeth in a sound not quite like a neigh, and nodded its huge head. "No matter who tries to break you and make you obey, they will fail, because you obey only Me, isn't that right, Tom?" This time the horse whinnied, and nodded again. "Such a good boy. I know just the place for you."

The customers of the country bar down the road were puzzled by the torn shirt and jeans in the alley. Most of all, they were puzzled by the spurs left there, bent out of shape, as if discarded. Spurs were worth money. No cowboy worth a saddle to sit on would discard such spurs.

The next morning the hands were surprised by a new bronc in the corral. He had never been shod; the ferrier had to trim the huge hoofs to fit him. For the rest of the day they tried to at least start the long, tedious business of breaking him to the saddle. The huge stallion proved resistant to the most skillful bronc buster on the ranch. They continued to wonder where he had come from.

They also wondered at the name on the papers that had come with him. Ponyboy Tom.

(c) 2006, Hypnoboth