As a girl she had a hobbyhorse. Her favorite toy. Riding it she dreamed her dreams and made her schemes: imagining what her future life would bring.
Adulthood has been full of material success. She is rich. Blessed with good friends. Sometimes she is nostalgic.
Her rare yearning for her old hobbyhorse was something she hasn’t confided to even her best friends. Besides, even if she knew where the old toy was her adult body is too big.
Recently at a party, she heard a woman repeat the Femdom cliché that boys make the best toys. A proverbial idea light bulb flashed in her mind.
Nowadays her dungeon is her playroom. That is where this male slave often finds himself bound and hooded. He’s her new hobbyhorse.
She rides her slave often. It reminds her a little of her youth. Not that she ever used a riding crop on the toy of her childhood.