Dofantasy - Fansadox Illustrated Novels 26 - Pony Tail Farms (Takamura-Thorn).pdf

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Pony Tail Farm
© dofantasy.com
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PONY TAIL FARM
by Takamura
Illustrated by Thorn
All the stories in this collection are fictitious
and are intended for the fantasy of adults only.
All characters represented in this
story are 18 years old or older.
You will not exhibit this material to minors
or to any other person that might be offended.
PONY TAIL FARM.
Copyright 2001-2004 by DOFANTASY. All rights reserved.
The right of Takamura to be identified as the Author of this Work has been asserted by him in ac-
cordance with the Copyright Designs and Patterns Act 1988.
Published by DOFANTASY dofantasy@dofantasy.com
All reproduction of text or illustrations, partial or total, by whatever means,
forbidden without the express written permission of the publisher.
Violations will be persecuted inmediately.
INDEX
Chapter One Annie falls into a Trap
4
Chapter Two Annie and the Apeman
21
Chapter Three Annie meets her Master and Mistress 28
Chapter Four Annie dresses up
47
Chapter Five Annie’s Big Day
75
Chapter Six Annie in her Pony Gear
120
Chapter Seven Annie and the Gymkhana
138
Chapter Eight Alone with her Boss again
154
CHAPTER ONE
Annie falls into a Trap
Rupert Mills sat at his desk, clicking the top of his gold ball-point pen.
Annie Jones was late again. Always the same five or ten minutes late,
always the same story. There was a knock on his door and she came in.
“I couldn’t get on the Tube, Mr Mills, or the one after.”
“That’s all right, Miss Jones”, he said, “but please try to arrive more
punctually in future.”
“I will, Mr Mills, honest.”
Mills watched her leave the room the usual way, closing the door behind
her, shoulders back, tits out, the final glance to check that he was admir-
ing her profile. He wondered if there was anything so special about her,
if you took away those big breasts. Hard to say. No doubt about the tits
though! He had seen all the other men looking at them often enough.
She knew how to use them too. She was always leaning forwards over a
desk, showing most of her breasts, letting them hang down in front of the
office boys, squeezing them together slightly with the tops of her arms to
make them look even bigger. Sometimes she even swung slightly from
side to side, and her breasts gave a little wobble that left men confused
and speechless…
Mills had never been able to work out if she was really pretty or not. She
had lovely big eyes, that was true. She had a big sexy mouth too. The
eyes and the mouth often went together in Mills’ fantasies. He imagined
Annie kneeling in front of him, naked, her hands tied behind her back.
Then she closed her eyes in an automatic gesture as she opened her mouth
to his aching hard-on…
What else did she have going for her? Her hair was nice, he thought,
wavy, blonde hair parted in the middle, hanging down just to the top
of her tits. And her bottom was good. In summer she often wore tight
trousers. Some were so tight around the crutch you could see her mons
veneris, which seemed unusually prominent. And then suddenly, when
the cold weather came, off came the trousers and on went the short skirts
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like the one she was wearing now. A lot of girls did that. But when she
did it, it drove him crazy. He never knew whether to look at the big thighs
or the big boobs. Both were real, physical, very touchable…
Annie Jones had a tough, bad-tempered streak he had seen in so many
working-class London girls. Mills was afraid of that streak. He half
expected her to turn on him one day and say “What d’you think you’re
looking at?” Who the hell did she think she was? She was nobody. She
was just a common girl with big tits. A classic cockteaser. Someone who
deserved to be taught a lesson…
Mills frowned. He remembered how his wife had visited the office a
few weeks ago and had seen him looking at the girl. He hadn’t had a
moment’s peace ever since. She had even nagged him in the pub. “You
were looking at her!” “I wasn’t!” “You were, I saw you!” It had been
very embarrassing. He had buried his face in his pink gin.
Mills ran his hand over his forehead as if erasing the memory. He pressed
a button on the interphone.
“Will you step into my office, please, Miss Jones?”
Annie went in. He motioned her to a chair and sat down opposite her. She
crossed one leg over the other… Thighs… rounded, pneumatic, swelling,
touchable thighs…
“I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, Miss Jones. It’s about the miss-
ing money.”
Annie looked at him, a little pale…
“I was hoping you’d say something about it, but as you haven’t, I will. If
you look at the ceiling in your office, you’ll see a grille. Air conditioning.
There’s a closed circuit camera in there, focused on the petty cash drawer.
It’s connected to a video.”
Annie turned paler. She looked down and felt her stomach kick. She
knew her cheeks were going red. Mills noticed too, and noticed too how
she gave a kind of sigh, took in breath, and heaved her breasts. There
was movement, a heavy wobble and a quiver as they settled back into
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