Imperial fillies (What Emily is up to for 17 September 2014)

I'm having the best time writing something that I guess is turning into my unique version of pony-play, the way Caroline turned into my unique version of ageplay. Take a look:

"Filly Edera," he said, and she could tell that he meant "Princess Edera," and that he wanted to say "Princess Edera," and she loved him for it. "Get over my knee, now, or I shall have to put you there. You are going to learn a lesson, and I am going to teach it to you." 

Tearfully, at last, Edera obeyed, moving to stand between Lord Ranin's legs, and letting him topple her over his thigh, until her hands and her head hung down to the floor, and her toes just touched the straw on the other side, and her bottom, with its shameful tail, was raised up to confront Lord Ranin's gaze as the most prominent part of her--the part in which, currently, he had the most interest. She still wept, but her sobs came quietly now. 

Gently, he began to pull her tail out. "We must get your bottom ready, sweetheart," he said, softly. "Push for me, now." All the stable-men called the fillies "sweetheart," but when Lord Ranin said it to Edera, she always felt--though perhaps it was her imagination--that he meant it in a way that almost made her blush. How could he not, she asked herself, seeing as he had known her all her life? But whenever she heard him call her "sweetheart," her tummy seemed to flip-flop a little.