3 comments/ 44437 views/ 2 favorites Sabel Ch. 07-10 By: blackbel2003 Chapter Seven: Between the shafts of a cart The hands of her watch showed a square angle when Cathy entered the courtyard: nine o'clock sharp. The sun was shining above Charissa, as it usually did in the month of Rose. The New State had changed the names of the months: instead of Roman gods and imperators, they were now named after the nicest Auronian flowers. A light breeze made the ponytail swish over the Lady's shoulders as she stood under the archway, her hands on her hips and the crop sticking out from her black bikini bottom. The thirty-seven girls, huddled in the shade of the building and already without their clothes, stopped chatting at once: the teacher's face showed that she was very upset. "Why aren't you dressed in harness and bits?" she shouted. "Because Mr. Anderson said that we had to wait for you, Miss Cathy", Desiree said in a frightened voice. "We have no time to waste! You know how to fasten buckles, don't you? Or you have to be taught that too? MR. ANDERSON! Come here, NOW!" The man walked out from the workers' room. "What were you thinking? They need to be ready before I get here. ARE WE CLEAR?" "Yes, Miss Cathy! The other teachers don't allow the ponies to meddle with their tacks, so I thought..." He turned to the shed: "Hey, Chico! Raymond! Matt! Bring the stuff here!" Three men pushing carts with the outfits appeared as by magic and unloaded them in the middle of the yard, near the central pole. "Fetch your harness, collar and bit, and form pairs! The same as yesterday!" Cathy commanded. Her voice trembled, so angry she was. The crop smacked on one of the walls, producing a very eloquent, dry sound. The girls moved quickly to adjust the straps on their partners' body and head. The teacher's face was still red, her breath heavy on her nose. Sabel had never seen her so angry, not even when Jenny had tried to undo her bit. She felt the leather straps almost cutting into her skin as Cathy buckled them one notch too tight; the bit was pushed into her mouth and the headstall fitted tight on her head. "Do you think your owner will be waiting for you to be ready when they need you? Who thinks that?" Silence. No hands were raised. "You will learn to be ready or face the consequences! Mr. Anderson - bring the wrist cuffs!" The fat man distributed them. The cuffs were wide and had long leather tails on each one in the same color as each girl's outfit. "Now face the wall, all of you, and cross your hands behind your back!" Cathy encased all the wrists in the metal cuffs and ordered the class to turn around. Moving briskly along the line, she tied the tails with a tight knot in front of each girl's tummy, so that her hands were firmly secured on the small of her back. She stepped back and glanced at her herd: with their bits in place and their arms forming a nice angle beside their bodies, the girls looked splendid -- and conveniently helpless. "We'll march for ten minutes now! Knees high and tushie pushed out! Breasts forward, heads high! Off you go!" The line moved on, Sabel leading as she had done the previous day. Cathy felt her anger melting down at the sight of her pony wearing her green harness and marching so elegantly. Sabel lifted her kneels high, feeling the cement against the pads of her bare feet. "Why is the Lady so upset?" she was asking herself. "Yesterday she said nothing about harnesses -- she told us to wait for her, "naked and ready". How could we have guessed that ready for the class meant harnessed?" Cathy let the girls make a few turns around the yard to warm up. Suddenly she remembered that she had forgotten to ask the Ponygirl Department to deliver the carts for today's lesson. Only one was available -- her mother's -- as she had sent for it the first day of the course. "We will have carts for all of you next Monday", she said angrily. "Today, we have only one. Sabel, come here -- the rest of you, MARCH!" The ebony moved up to where Cathy was standing. The teacher took a leash from her vest pocket and hooked it to the ring in front of her collar. Sabel felt a tug on her neck and followed the teacher into the shed. A cart painted in black was parked there. Its rails came out from the spikes holding the wheels and curved up from the foot holder in a very elegant way. "Her mother's sulky", Sabel thought as she saw the name Caroline Magnusson engraved just below the seat. Cathy dropped the leash and it fell down to the girl's ankle. She gulped and looked at the teacher. "Stand between the rails, near the rings." Sabel obeyed. The shafts reached out about a foot beyond her; they were provided with rings from which dangled little chains-- and in no time they were hitched to her hip belt. Sabel closed her eyes, listening to the thumping of naked feet outside. She was grateful when Miss Cathy slackened by one hole the buckles on her harness-- it felt much more comfortable that way. The crotch strap still adhered to her slit, and Sabel shuddered: the sheer movements of her thighs would turn that mild itching into a desperate craving for relief -- and with her hands tied behind her back, none would come until the teacher decided to end the class. Cathy covered the ebony's breast with her hand and whispered into her ear: "Are you ready to serve me for the first time, my pretty Sabel?" "Yeff, ...iff ....a...ffy." "Your skin is such a pretty shade of black, dear! The showiest pony I have ever taught! Now push out your bum and suck in your tummy." Sabel did as she was told. Cathy smiled and squatted down to check her choice's pussy: the leather was already darker on that spot. From between Sabel's legs wafted a delicious odor of sweat and of something juicier than mere water. Cathy felt an urge to brush the strap aside, finger her to bring out some cream and lap it, but didn't do that. She rose up and slapped Sabel's tushie with her open hand, making a loud noise that echoed in the ample shed. The girl contracted her buttocks, surprised, but kept looking straight ahead. If Sabel passed her exam - and the teacher was pretty sure that she would -- her registration number would be tattooed on her left rump. A more personal mark could be added to the girl's body, though -- Cathy's blue eyes flashed as the thought of a capital C tattooed on the top of her arm, colored in red to match her collar and contrasting so nicely with the sheen of her black skin. "A few weeks", she said to herself. "Just a few weeks..." She took the reins from the box by the seat and let them slide down the girl's bare back, making her tingle with their touch. Knotting them to the wide O-shaped rings at the ends of her bit, she made a movement to climb into the sulky, but something made her change her mind. Sabel's head had slightly turned away from her hand, as if she was offering some resistance to being yoked. An imperceptible movement -, but the teacher was too experienced to let it go unacknowledged. She frowned, annoyed: obstinacy and disobedience were the last things she would expect from such a docile creature. Sabel was not aware of what she had done. It had been a kind of reflex, a tiny sign that something in her still rebelled against the inviolable rule she was nonetheless so familiar with -- ponygirls were property, and for life. She was not sophisticated enough to realize that; her conscious wish was to become a ponygirl, but deep in her soul the idea of losing her liberty was frightening her. As a Sixth Station girl, she could be designated to work anywhere, even transferred from Charissa to another town -- but she lived in an apartment, however crowded; she was free to go wherever she pleased after her shift; she could go jogging when she wanted to, or take a nap if she felt tired... As a ponygirl, she would be at her owner's mercy -- and the fury the blonde Lady was capable of had scared Sabel. All that was implied in her reflex, even if she would not be able to explain her feelings if someone asked her to. But Cathy had noticed: the ebony was not ready to pull her around, period. "Mr. Anderson!" The fat chief of the workers rushed into the shed. Cathy handed him the reins: "Take her out for some exercise with the sulky." The teacher was careful not to pronounce the girl's name. She was still in the first phases of her "conversion process", and had to learn that people would often talk about her as if she was not there. Some owners even referred to their ponies using the neutral pronoun "it", as for any other animal. Cathy didn't favor that, but in her opinion not naming a hitched pony while speaking to someone else was a subtle way to foster submission and self-effacement. The conversion process depended much more on psychology than on physical exercises, she believed. Sabel felt a yank at the reins and began to walk. The chains on her hips stretched to full length as she trained the vehicle into the yard. The sulky was made of bamboo and very light; she discovered that no particular effort was needed to pull it. "Trotting now, little ponies!" Cathy leaned against the wall, watching the girls. All shades of black and brown were represented, from Desiree's charcoal hue to Robin's warm mulatto color. That was not surprising: in colonial times, large quantities of African slaves had been brought to Auronia, and even if many of their descendants had dramatically improved their condition under the New State, they were still numerous in the lower Stations. The rest was composed of girls coming from the provinces and from the neighboring countries, Asian immigrants' daughters, and a few Caucasians. The teacher's steel-blue eyes fell on Charra, who was leading the file. Her bronze skin shone so nicely against her red harness! "Circle the pole! Trotting! One, two, one, two!" she shouted, hitting the palm of her hand with the crop. Mr. Anderson quickened his pace and pulled Sabel into a light trot around the yard. Cathy watched her, admiring her athletic figure and the way she raised her knees even while trotting. She wanted to take Sabel with her for the weekend, which she was to spend at the Magnusson farm just outside Charissa. But was that wise? The girl was not ready... What if she failed to obey a command in the presence of other people? That would be embarrassing for both of them. Cathy didn't mind teaching again and again the gaits or disciplining reluctant candidates, but this was a special case. She had picked that African gem to be her personal pony, and wanted her to be perfect. She could become perfect -- with those long legs and firm muscles, her body seemed sculpted by a skillful craftsman specifically for that job - and she was so pretty! Perhaps she should hold back her expectations and give the Nubian a little more time to adapt to her new condition. Girls like her had a long way ahead of them - but once they became fully conditioned, nothing surpassed the pleasure of controlling a pony with just a faint touch of the crop or a slight flick of the reins, Cathy shrugged and bit her lower lip. She was not happy; she had counted on tasting that black pussy in the warm stall, feeling the bristles of the straw on her knees. She had counted on Sabel to pull her along the road by the lake and let her feel the wind kissing her cheeks as she sprinted after a hearty smack on those splendid haunches. Cathy felt her pussy tingling as an image formed in her mind: Sabel under the shadow of a tree, covered in sweat, hitched to the cart and breathing deeply as she undid her crotch strap and lapped avidly between her legs... "Mr. Anderson! Bring her here!" Sabel knew that the girls' eyes were on her as she pulled the cart around the yard. Her heart leaped in her chest: would Miss Cathy lead her for her first ride? But the teacher had other plans. She went to Sabel and unhooked the arms of the sulky from her hips. "She is not ready", she whispered to the head of the leather workers, then turned to Sabel: "Take your place at the head of the line and lead the girls to the trough. You all, listen -- you are going to learn how to drink without using your hands." The trough was welded onto one of the walls about one foot above ground, and was long enough to accommodate the whole class. The girls approached it and stopped: how could one drink that way? Cathy smiled as Chi Ling knelt down and put her face into the trough; one by one, her colleagues imitated her. Water splashed out as they sucked it into their mouths, making the teacher and Mr. Anderson smile at their clumsiness. Cathy gazed approvingly at the line of naked bottoms, which soon would be wiggling between the shafts of sulkies and chariots, and observed with pleasure that the dark patches on the girls' foot pads and toes offered a sharp contrast to the light layer of dust on their heels - a sure sign that they had assimilated the standard gait. "Charra! Come here!" The teacher hitched the leash she had taken off from Sabel onto the Mexican's collar: "Come, girl", she said, leading her between the arms of the cart. Charra winked at Sabel as the ebony lifted her head from the trough. Her face was beaming with pride; she had overcome her doubts about being in that class, and was taking very seriously the opportunity to leave forever the stench of the garbage plant. When the teacher showed her the nipple clamps, however, she stepped back, visibly afraid. "These go on your nipples, Charra. Don't worry, I won't tighten them too much." The bronze-skinned girl made a grimace while Cathy placed the clamps around her nipples. It was uncomfortable to have those things so near such a sensitive part of her body, and her eyes showed some confusion behind their long, dark lashes. The teacher smiled and pulled the reins though the bit's rings, connecting them to the clamps. Charra's breasts were heavier than Sabel's, her nipples fairer and bigger. Cathy felt no urge to lick them: the sturdy Mexican was better suited to pull a taxi than to serve a Lady in the upper Stations, she thought. Cathy glanced at Sabel as she hitched the chariot to the girl's belt. Her pony-to-be was still kneeling by the trough, clearly scared at the sight of the nipple clamps. Her mouth was open and some spittle was drooling over her chin. The teacher smiled wryly and walked around the cart onto the seat. "Mr. Anderson, I want them trotting fast now, almost cantering. Twenty complete laps around the yard -- we have to increase their stamina." As the girls stood up and the line formed again, ready to follow Mr. Anderson's lead, she accommodated her body on the seat and held firmly the reins: "Charra, can you hear me?" The girl nodded. "If you pay attention and follow the reins, you will never feel any tug on your nipples. But if you don't ... Now, giddy up!" Charra started walking, her tushie wiggling as she moved her legs. She was surprised to find that even with a driver on it the cart weighed less than she had imagined. Cathy applied some pressure on the rein over her right shoulder and she turned right to avoid a tug on her nipple. "Very good, Charra! Now pay attention -- if I flick your rump with the crop, that means "go faster." And remember, don't stop until you hear my Whoa!" A quick tap and the pony sped up, under the keen gaze of the other girls. Cathy pulled on the rein to make her tighten her circle around the pole, and grinned as the Mexican executed the move without mistakes. Like so many of her countrywomen, she had a wide waist; her bottom was large and her strong calves ended in thick ankles. On one of them shone the metal band marking her as a Sixth Station cleaner. "Strong, healthy", Cathy thought. "And intelligent, too -- she might become she leader of the team in those special taxis." Charra felt a light tug from the reins and turned toward the archway. It was not hard to pull the sulky -- she had to pay close attention to the reins and to the crop, and the clamps were still a menace to her nipples, but otherwise it was an easy task - except for the itching on her pussy because of the strap between her labia. As they passed under the arch into the street, a flick of the crop on her buttocks told her that Miss Cathy wanted her to move faster: "Trotting!" The Mexican leaned forward to gain impulse and started to trot. From her place on the seat, Cathy could see that she was quite determined to do well what she had to do. "Charra works well for me, but I wish Sabel had been ready", she muttered to herself. The street stretched along the school building and ended in a busy thoroughfare. Charra dragged the cart all the way down to the corner and suddenly the bustle of Charissa engulfed her: the peculiar sound of wheels against the pavement, taxi drivers squawking orders to their ponies, a pineapple vendor announcing his fruits, people on foot walking on the sides of the wide road -- there were no sidewalks in the capital, as cars had disappeared long ago. Cathy kept her charge in the lane reserved for leisure carts. She knew that Charra must be scared at her first ride outside. Her feet were not yet clad in pony boots, but that should not be too much of a problem, Cathy said to herself: the road was paved with a smooth layer of makeshift asphalt. That thought soothed any doubts she might have about working Charra harder. Charra felt the tip of the crop on her bare buttock: "Faster! Charra! Chin up, breasts out! Concentrate on what you are doing!" She bit into the stick between her teeth and giddied up. She was worried about stumbling and kept eyeing her feet, trying to ignore the busy street at her left side. Now it was clear why Miss Cathy had been so emphatic about learning to obey non-verbal orders: it was difficult to understand spoken commands with all that noise around her. The teacher kept her at that pace until they reached the end of the block, then slowed her down to turn around the corner. Charra seemed to understand easily the "crop language", and sped up again as it landed on her firm rump. But she was beginning to feel tired and towards the middle of the third street she slackened down. She was not a jogger like Sabel: every muscle on her thighs was yelling for a respite. Cathy would not tolerate that. The crop kissed once more the bronze skin on Charra's butt; thick trickles of perspiration had appeared on her back, her heart thumped like a whole band of drums had decided to rehearse inside her chest, and her arches ached from the strain imposed on them. But she was not going to be accused of laziness: she mustered what remained of her forces and trotted until the reins told her to slow down. A faint tug on her nipple made her turn into the last side of the block. The dark mass of the school building was already on her right side. She dragged the cart along the wall and felt relieved when the teacher led her through the archway. She walked into the yard and stuck her breasts out, proud of her accomplishment. Mr. Anderson clapped his hands: it was not usual for a pony to complete a turn around the block -- more than half a mile - before the end of her first week, and in so short a time. "That is an able teacher", he thought as Cathy steered the sulky towards the shed. Sabel was leading the running line, her breasts bouncing nicely and her butt thrust back. "What a pity that she has not met my expectations", the teacher muttered before emitting a high-pitched "Whoa" to stop Charra. Getting off the cart, she took off the clamps and unhooked the girl: "Good girl! Now go to the trough and show me that you can drink like a pony." Charra knelt down and somehow managed to drink without making a mess around her. "Shall I hose her, Miss Cathy?" Mr. Anderson asked. "I'll hose her myself, Mr. Anderson. But the rest of them need hosed now. Have they completed the twenty turns?" Sabel Ch. 07-10 "Three more to go", the man said. Cathy leaned against the wall to watch the girls: some were clearly exhausted, dragging their feet out of sheer fear of being punished if they stopped their trot. A few -- among them her Sabel -- seemed to have enough energy to go on for a longer time. The others were just fatigued, but after taking a rest could be worked a little more. A normal class, in sum: with the program she had in mind, by Graduation Day most of them would be ready to join the thousands of ponygirls that served the inhabitants of the capital. Cathy waited until the end of the exercise and shouted: "Enough! The class is over for today." There were noticeable sighs of relief as the girls came to a halt, happy to be allowed to stand normally on their feet. The teacher told Mr. Anderson to free their wrists, and when this was done she commanded: "Remove the harness and collar from your partner, and wash your bit on the tap out there. Hang all your stuff on your peg and line up to be washed. Quickly, ponies!" While they rushed to obey, Chico, Raymond and Matt took their place behind the water pumps. Water was precious in Ansonia, so the tall towers of liquid gushing out from the hoses reached the fruit trees after showering the girls. It was good to feel fresh water on their bodies after so demanding an exercise. Charra joined the line and was a bit surprised when Miss Cathy grabbed a large soft cloth and wiped it gently down her body. She remained still, feeling the sensation on her nipples -- they stood out very nicely with that caress. What had Sabel felt as Miss Cathy touched her the other day, she wondered -- that woman had such a gentle hand when she wished to be sweet! "Charra, have you had any children yet?" The pony shook her head. She was only twenty-one and wanted to wait until she moved up from the Sixth Station to find a husband. "No, Miss Cathy." "You will make a wonderful mother", Cathy said as she brushed Charra's exposed slit with the wet cloth. "But now you will have to wait at least three years, won't you?" Charra nodded and parted her legs -- after all that rubbing from the leather strap, Miss Cathy's caress was very welcome on her sensitive cleft. The teacher squeezed the cloth on her rump and she felt a trickle of cold water going into her rear crack and dripping along the back of her light-brown thighs. From her place on the line, Sabel glanced at her friend. She had been hosed rather summarily, as the workers had to take care of thirty-six girls. She felt the sun drying her skin up while the teacher took her time with Charra -- and a cloud passed over her pretty black face: a sudden thought had flared in her mind. Was Miss Cathy mad at her? Why hadn't she picked her for her first ride? Had she done something wrong? Jealousy was foreign to Sabel's heart. She was not envious of Charra; on the contrary, she was happy for her friend, and also grateful because of her help on the previous day. Still, she would have liked so much to take Miss Cathy for a ride! She sighed: perhaps Charra was wrong and she was deluding herself -- Miss Cathy was not going to keep her -- she was going to become a delivery animal, after all -- but wait, she had been given the lock! She touched anxiously the nape of her neck -- there it was, well fastened by Miss Cathy's own hands. But then, why was she ignoring her? Sabel was feeling confused. Tears formed on her eyes and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. "Mr. Anderson, make it certain that nothing happens to my mother's ponycart!" Cathy said, and turned to the class: "This lesson is over. We will continue on Monday at nine o'clock -- and don't make me angry again! I want all of you collared, harnessed and with bits on before I arrive, am I making myself clear?" As Sabel walked past her on her way to the shed, the teacher grabbed her wrist and felt again how silky her skin was. Looking right into the girl's eyes, she noticed a thin film of liquid on them -- and that touched a sensitive cord in her heart. Perhaps she had been too hasty in her judgment. The girl was human, after all, and had her weaknesses. What she had done was very different from Karen's or Jenny's ugly actions. She had not willfully disobeyed; she had just had a defense reflex at her first contact with the reins -- and that was easy to forgive. Cathy ran a finger down the ebony's flat tummy until it reached the bush above her clit, then moved it further down into the drenched pussy. Sabel had to control herself not to leap: after almost two hours with that infernal strap exciting her labia, her world had narrowed down to her cunt and she needed badly something hard inside it. Her mind was racing. If she felt that much aroused without the pill, what would happen once it was in her body? She parted her legs and looked at Miss Cathy's crop. Would the teacher keep her after class again, or at least tell her whether she had unwittingly done something wrong? When Miss Cathy finally spoke, her voice was almost inaudible: "Do you want to belong to me, Sabel?" "Yes, Miss Cathy, I really do!" Cathy pulled her finger out and with her thumb pushed back the dark hood, exposing the pink button that stemmed from it like a tiny mushroom. Sabel took a deep breath and thrust her body an inch forward, but Cathy ran her finger briskly upward and slid it into the ring of the girl's collar: "I want to take your with me this weekend. Will that be a problem?" The girl's face opened into a coast-to-coast grin. "Not at all, Miss Cathy!" Sabel had to control herself not to scream from happiness. "Wonderful. I need to make you feel more trusting about what I do with you, Sabel." The ebony's big eyes showed her surprise at those words, but she kept silent. "Don't talk unless you are told to", she remembered. And she didn't want to jeopardize her chances of becoming the blonde Lady's pony. "I have things to do with the Ponygirl Department this afternoon, but will be done by four o'clock. I'll ask your supervisor to get you off earlier today, so that you can be ready by that time." Sabel's heart jumped in her chest. "Meet me at four in front of your building, my Sabel. And don't forget to wash your bit before you hang it with the rest of your stuff." She narrowed her eyes to watch the ebony as she walked into the shed with her tack thrown over her shoulder. "So strong and tall", the teacher thought. "And such a pretty rump, wiggling so sweetly even when she is just walking! This ponytail swishing across her back! I can't wait to see her between the shafts of my sulky..." Cathy stayed with her eyes closed for a while and then glanced around: the yard was empty. Workers and students were gone, and so was Sabel. She put discreetly her hand inside her bikini bottom and sensed the wetness on her womanhood. Wetness she wanted to see on the lips of her black ponygirl. Chapter Eight: The Magnusson farm Sabel looked at the street clock on the other side of the street. She had been waiting for about half an hour, clutching to her side a little bag where she had put a hairbrush, a tube of cream for her skin and other personal items. Twenty past four -- what had detained Miss Cathy? She was surprised by a kiss on she back of her neck. As she turned to see if that was the Lady, she heard a click at her throat: a dainty metallic leash had been attached to the front ring of her collar. "Hi, sweetie!" Miss Cathy smelled of the lemony lotion that she liked to use. "Oh Miss Cathy, you have surprised me!" "Follow me, we have to rush." The teacher moved swiftly along the busy avenue. Sabel walked after her, holding her bag. She was wearing her regulation shorts and had tied the flaps of her blouse under her breasts, leaving bare a portion of black skin. The contrast with the white fabric above and under her navel was so striking that people turned their heads as they crossed her. It was impossible to misread what was in their minds. Sabel felt flattered -- Robin had said many times that she was pretty and desirable, but in her natural modesty she had always believed that her friend's words expressed only her insatiable sexual appetite. As they turned into a side street, Cathy stopped: "Arms snug across your back now, so that your elbows are close. And you may march with high steps." Sabel did as she was told and they resumed their walk. The leash hung loosely from Cathy's hand; her vest came down to her waist, and the girl couldn't help seeing the teacher's shapely tush encased in the tight bikini bottom. "How many of these does she own", she asked herself, and suddenly noticed that the high heel boots were gone. Miss Cathy donned comfortable walking shoes and white socks going up to her ankles. The street went down to a wide avenue lined with trees, which flanked the edge of the lake. As they entered it Cathy began to trot; Sabel followed her, lifting her knees high as the Lady was doing. The lake was at their right side; farther away, on the other bank, the rolling hills were covered with lush vegetation. Proud ponies tied to elegant chariots were taking their owners for a leisure ride -- people in the upper Stations had already finished their work and were indulging to a moment of pleasure in that beautiful décor. The avenue was called Delilah Boulevard, after the woman who cut Samson's hair. The main streets in Charissa had their names chosen to remind the citizens that women ruled the New State. Sabel liked to jog there after her long hours of scrubbing, so the scene before her eyes was familiar to her -- the sun already over the other bank of the lake, the calm blue waters shining with red and golden reflexes, the sulkies and rickshaws, the ponies trotting on their lanes. But she had never totted tied to a leash and with her arms crossed behind her back, so she kept her eyes glued to Miss Cathy's bottom until they reached the pier. A barge was already waiting and some people had taken their places on it. Sabel noticed a heavy farm cart with a ponyboy hitched between its shafts. He had very strong arms and legs; his complexion was a deep brown and he stood like a statue with his hands tied behind his back. Sabel's attention was attracted to his large full balls, which were topped by a cock that could fit a horse. "A stallion", Miss Cathy whispered into her ear, bemused at how much Sabel was interested in the powerful male's attributes. The girl lowered her eyes in an attempt to hide her embarrassment and focused on the metal tube that encased the brown ponyboy's dick and forced it downward. A lock secured the tube to a chain going under his crotch and tied to the back ring of his belt. Sabel had never seen such a device, but as she was going ask Miss Cathy about it she felt the crop tip sliding under her thighs and pressing up against her pussy. The barge began to move. There was no motor: strong Fifth Station men pedaled it through the lake. Cathy kept discreetly teasing Sabel; her legs widened a few inches and she wondered what Robin would do in her place -- no doubt she would ask Miss Cathy to take her nearer that monument. She liked cocks quite a lot - only, because of the work schedules, there were fewer occasions for sex with a man than with a fellow cleaner girl. The ponyboy was staring at her and changing his weight from one foot to the other, clearly excited. Tails similar to those she had had on her wrists that same morning, but much wider, were fastened to a ring on his waistband. Sabel knew from experience what their function was - to keep his hands immobilized behind his back. Lots of questions popped up in her mind -- who was that ponyboy? She narrowed her eyes to discover whom he belonged to, but the letters on his plate were too small to be read from that distance. He was going the same direction as she and Miss Cathy; his cart was heavily loaded with things her owner had bought in Charissa --, boxes piled upon each other, stacks of bales, farm tools and so on. Sabel had never gone to the other side of the lake, but from what she knew from her childhood she guessed that there must be farms there. A strong tug on her collar awakened Sabel from her thoughts. Miss Cathy pulled her head down and tied the leash close to the barge rail, and she had to clutch her hands on it to keep balance. She could not turn her head, so she didn't notice the ponyboy staring at her protruding bottom; she only heard him squirming, and wondered why. The reason was, of course, that his cock had stiffened inside the tube. Sabel shivered as she thought that the motive for that squirm could be -- her. A terrifying but enormously arousing idea came into her mind -- Miss Cathy lowering her shorts and asking the owner of that stupendous male to release him from the cart -- his thick cock sliding into her pussy -- she would not be able to flee it because of the knot on her leash -- all those people staring and chuckling - oh no, that would be too humiliating -- oh YESSS! She raised her butt in an involuntary movement, as if offering herself to be ridden, and her face went hot as she realized what she had done. She tried to turn her head to see if Miss Cathy had noticed, but the knot on the leash didn't allow her to. She could hear her voice, though: "Hello, Charmagne! How are you?" "I am fine, my dear sister! What have you tied over there?" "A girl I am training." A mother with a baby on her lap came forward and leaned on the rail just beside Sabel. The little boy began to cry, making it difficult for her to follow the conversation. She pricked her ears to overhear as much as she could. "............................. right to pick one...............special........... at such an early stage in the course?" "Yes...................... very strong and obedient, perfect to pull ................me in it." ".......................such a beautiful color. Seems as if she was just imported from Africa." "...............pure-bred, but this is difficult to ascertain. And it doesn't matter......... soft as creamy butter to my touch.................. to the house for the weekend." Sabel feet a wave of pride surging through her body: they were saying such nice things about her! She kept paying close attention to the scraps of conversation that reached her ears: "............................. Shig in that cart? He is your best stallion!" ".........................." "Oh my! Really? ... to mount YOU? What was she thinking?!" So the spectacular male was named Shig, Sabel thought, and belonged to Miss Cathy's sister. Was it possible that the Magnusson farm was so near Charissa? She had not had enough time to watch the other lady -- what had Miss Cathy called her, Char or something -- so busy she had been eating the ponyboy with her eyes. She moved her head to the sides, wondering how the blonde Lady would react if she untied that knot just for two seconds to fill her eyes with that perfect masculine form. The prospect of being sent back to Charissa with the returning barge and be expelled from the course, or at the very least spend some hours tethered to that awful pole like poor Jenny, dissuaded her from "undoing what your owner has done." She parted her feet to find a less uncomfortable position and kept paying attention to what the Ladies were saying. "............................ had jutted out three times in a row. I thought he was done with it.................... near to him to fix his restrainer................... yes, Cathy, actually........................ my wrist........................... that look on his eyes! Luckily he was tied by his collar to..................... was so shocked!" Sabel's brains were working hard to understand what she was hearing. Was it possible that the ponyboy had grabbed his owner's wrist and tried to mount HER? She would have to ask Miss Cathy later. How incredible! The bank was coming close and the men stopped their pedaling. Cathy climbed down from her sister's cart; as the barge's front lowered down to the pier, Sabel heard the dry sound of a lash on naked skin. Shig whinnied loudly and jumped forward, struggling to move the heavy cart. Sabel saw it sliding down the inclined front and heard Char Magnusson's voice: "Bye, Cathy! See you tonight!" Cathy waited until the barge was almost empty and unhooked Sabel from the rail. The ebony stretched her back up and waited while the teacher talked to some acquaintances, deliberately ignoring the girl attached to the leash in her hand. "Yes", Miss Cathy was saying. "He has misbehaved and is being punished: two months at the cart, as if he was not a stallion. But if your ponygirl is in her fertile period... I will talk to Char, and let's see what she decides." The Ladies' bags were taken into a chariot waiting for them on the pier; they took leave from Cathy and walked away. Sabel opened her mouth in astonishment as the two Oriental ponies attached to the cart started off at the same pace, with their bodies inclined at the same angle and raising their feet to the same height. "Well trained, those twins", Miss Cathy said approvingly as they stepped out from the barge. "And the ponyboy - isn't he marvelous, dear? He tried to approach my sister, can you imagine that?" "I heard her saying so, Miss Cathy." "After you get your pill, you will turn your bottom to him, Sabel, inviting him with all your being." "ME, Miss Cathy?" "Yes - you", the lady whispered and kissed Sabel's ear. "You can't imagine how strongly you will want to have sex -- and I might allow you to go with him, even if you are not going to be pregnant... or perhaps, because you are not going to be pregnant..." There was a mischievous look on her eyes as Cathy figured Sabel naked, tied to a mating block and exposing her pussy to Shig's greedy eyes, while the ponyboy chafed and yanked on the chain holding him to a loop on the wall, in a vain attempt to reach the female just a few yards away. And she, Cathy, would tell him to put his hands over his head, remove his cock restrainer and let him loose to pump his seed into Sabel's womb. She sighed as that exciting vision faded. It would come true some day: she was ready to bet that Sabel was going to serve her for many years. And in due time she would deliver strong ponyboys and lovely fillies, who would grow up to pull around the next generation of Magnussons. "Has he got the pill too, Miss Cathy?" Sabel asked as they started walking. "Yes, it was given to him when he got to puberty to make him into a stallion. If his cock wasn't locked up, he would be dangerous -- it hardens every few minutes, you know. Have you ever seen a stallion, Sabel?" "No, Miss Cathy. But I know that Ms. Stevenson had some brought to the farm for the Breeders - twice a year, in the months of Violet and Heliotrope. Her ponyboys were all working ones." "They must have received the anti-testosterone pill. Ideal to keep heavy-duty ponies calm." "Ah! Then it is because of this that they never showed interest in the girls?" "Certainly." Sabel thought for a moment. "Miss Cathy, what does a stallion do besides making babies in the Breeders?" "They breed ponygirls too. You don't think that the stork brings the next generation of ponies, do you? There are ways to ensure that you ponygirls only deliver fillies, didn't you know that? And the same holds for Breeders. One can make them have as many females as are needed in the Sixth and Fifth Stations." Sabel stopped, astonished, and felt a hearty tug on her neck. "Keep moving, girl!" Sabel started walking again. That explained why so many girls were born on Mr. Stevenson's farm. She said aloud: "My mother alone had twelve -- I am the third, and don't have any brothers." Sabel Ch. 07-10 Cathy sighed, mentally thanking Sabel for having brought her mother into the conversation. "I don't quite know how to tell you this... but my mother knew yours." Sabel was so stunned that she stopped again. "REALLY?" Cathy let her absorb that piece of information and tugged on her leash. "I am sorry, but it is a very sad story, which should wait for another day. Your mother loved it here, and you will too, I hope." The blonde lady turned her head to look into Sabel's eyes. Was it possible that she knew more about her mother than she seemed to? "She has never told me about her former life, Miss Cathy." "My mother adored her. I so wish that we had kept a photograph of them in those days -- perhaps there is still one somewhere in the house. I must check." Sabel looked at the hills looming far away and tried to imagine how her mother would have looked at that time. Even as a Breeder, as far as she remembered she was good-looking - she had not seen her in the last seven years. There were grooves on her belly because of her twelve pregnancies, and her tits reached down to her navel from feeding Sabel and her sisters -- but she was still quite attractive. At least Ms. Stevenson seemed to think so -- after all, she had picked her to serve in the house after she had ceased to be fertile. "Your mother once had some power here." Sabel was going to stop again, but didn't. Her mother had been a secretary, a Fourth Station person. What had she done to be downstationed and become a Breeder? She had never told her - only that she had made "awful mistakes". Cathy tied Sabel's leash around her waist and let her walk at her side. Sabel matched her pace to the brisk rhythm of the blonde lady; she was burning to know more, but the teacher changed to another topic. "There is so much life to enjoy here, Sabel, so many things that don't go to the market. No, not secret things -- it's just that they are consumed here in the farm. Fish from before the changes that doesn't taste like the supply fish, or nice vegetables you have never tasted." They had entered a side road and Sabel realized that they were already walking past the Magnusson farm. Cathy took a bit from her vest and deftly slipped it into the Nubian's mouth. She looked so pretty with her lips stretched back and her wonderful teeth glaring against her dark face! Ten minutes more, and the big house came into view. The teacher pulled Sabel close and let her hand rest on the silky skin of her waist. She smiled to herself, thinking how surprised the household would be at the catch she was bringing with her. *** The Lady made a halt so that Sabel could form an idea of the estate. Before and to the sides of a two-story house, wide-branched trees with comfortable benches under them were scattered over a lawn. The house itself was different from anything she had ever seen: its walls consisted of trees planted so close around the original building that they completely covered it. A second story had been added using the upper branches, giving the whole the appearance of having sprung from the soil and grown into a harmonious ensemble. Cathy led the ebony through a maze of high bushes woven together to serve as a gate or door, holding her close to prevent her skin from being hurt by thorns or by the rough surfaces. The maze opened into a sort of vestibule, and as Sabel glanced around she discovered that the trees did not encircle the house: they were the house, for they had so completely surrounded it that bricks or stones were no longer necessary and had been removed. Her jaw fell down and she turned to the teacher in utter astonishment. The blonde Lady had taken off her shoes and socks, and Sabel did the same with her sandals. The crop flicked twice on her shoulder: remembering what she had learned about the "Friday position", she knelt down, extended her arms and touched the ground with her forehead. A light sound, like of leaves being trodden upon, came from behind her and a pair of black bare feet pointing outward stationed at the right side of her head. The thick ankles went up into equally thick calves, and that was all that Sabel could see without lifting her head. "Hello, Miss Cathy! Nice to have you back!" "Shaka! You have no idea of who this is!" Cathy's feet approached the black ones and Sabel guessed that she was hugging the woman named Shaka, who was obviously some kind of servant in the house. She took profit of that and turned slightly her head up: the thick black calves ended on the hem of a skirt made from -- what was that, thatched grass? She moved quickly back into "Friday". Later she would check -- it was so extraordinary, garments made of grass! The teacher was on tiptoes, giving Sabel a good view of her perfectly trimmed nails, and the ebony felt a quiver down her spine as she recalled her vision in the first day of the course. "Should I know her, Miss Cathy?" "No, Shaka. But it's such a wonderful good fortune of mine!" She ticked her tongue twice and Sabel stood up. Shaka put her hand to her mouth, amazed. She was almost as dark as the Haitian Desiree, and Sabel estimated her age at around fifty years. A red kerchief covered the upper part of her head and was knotted behind it, leaving apparent a tuft of wiry hair with patches of gray scattered here and there. Shaka was still pretty in spite of the roundness that had accumulated on her face and neck over the years. Her ample breasts heaved up and down in excitement, and from the way they looked under her blouse Sabel guessed that no bra had ever restrained them. "Miss Cathy! This girl -- she is so uncannily like..." "She is Obe's daughter, Shaka, and her name is Sabel." "Oh my God! Where have you found her? She looks so much like Obe! The same eyes, the same nose!" "I had to know, Shaka, and I found her. When her training is complete, she is going to be my ponygirl -- my very own. I have already collared her, as you see." Sabel could not restrain herself anymore. If Miss Cathy scolded her for speaking without permission, so much the worse - she had to ask the question that was burning her lips. "Did you know my mother, Shaka?" The black mamma held her arms wide: "Come here, child!" Sabel threw herself into that welcoming embrace. Shaka smelled of peace, of sympathy, of understanding -- "she is a generous woman", Sabel thought as she leaned against the smooth bosom and let her cheek rest on Shaka's shoulder. Tears came into her eyes and she breathed deeply to control her emotions. Shaka's eyes glowed with a feeling she hadn't felt for years, but suddenly a cloud came over her face, and. Cathy guessed that she was remembering the rest of Obe's story. "Don't worry, dear. I promise you that history will not repeat itself. Sabel has already shown how obedient and dependable she can be. I am certain that she will remind all of us of the time when Obe was here." The woman stepped back and admired Sabel for a moment. "So she is going to be your ponygirl, Miss Cathy! Do you want me to take her to the stable?" "Thank you, Shaka, I will do that myself. And -- if ever Sabel has free time, and you want to spend it with her, it will be fine. Only, please don't tell her about the last days." Sabel blinked at the affectionate way the powerful Lady treated Shaka: it was clear that she occupied a special position in the household. Perhaps it was she who ran things there, like old Esmeralda at Ms. Stevenson's home. So many years had passed, and Sabel still recalled warmly how happy she felt when she was a little girl and the long-haired Indian allowed her to sit on her lap as she mended the holes on the socks of the Stevenson children. "Sure, Miss Cathy!" The blonde Lady turned to Sabel: "Shaka has been here every day of my life. I love her very much. My mother was always busy with so many things in Charissa! Now you may go, Shaka. I will show Sabel her new quarters." Shaka disappeared into the maze, making no noise with her bare soles. Cathy grabbed the leash from Sabel's collar and took her outside the house, wondering when she would see more of it. A wide stepping stone pathway divided into several narrower ones, seeming to lead everywhere as far as the ebony's eyes reached. The stones felt agreeably cool against her naked feet, and to her surprise she noticed that the teacher had left her shoes inside the house as well. They slipped through a hedge made of bushes and Sabel held her breath: the farm stretched for miles in all directions and up the hills. At her right, there was a row of barns to store seeds and tools; flowers grew everywhere, pretty and colorful. On the left side, part of the old wood that once covered the estate had been preserved, and behind a narrow creek with arched bridges at short intervals began the vegetable garden, in which row after row of different species were cultivated. Fruit trees of every kind could be seen at a distance, and Sabel thought that it would take her months to get familiar with that wonderful estate. And all the produce was not destined to make a single family rich, like in the old days, but was transported to Charissa and distributed to the capital's population. Sabel felt a wave of pride warming her heart: how good it was to have been born in Auronia and live under such wise laws! "Miss Cathy, it is so beautiful here!" "Yes, Sabel, we try our best, and so do all the workers." "How many do you have here, Miss Cathy?" "Oh, over five hundred. Look, they are coming back -- the sun will soon set down, and their shift is over." Groups of men and women were in fact approaching, clad in loincloths or in thatched grass garments like Shaka's skirt. Songs were being sung as they walked down the paths towards a clutch of low buildings that Sabel identified at once -- they were dormitories. The pride they took in their work was evident on their faces: it was the joy of providing their fellow countrymen with healthy food, of not having to worry about what would happen when their old age came, of leading a simple but meaningful life. A girl about twenty years old called out to Miss Cathy: "Hi, Miss Cathy! Who is that with you?" "This is Sabel, honey! My new ponygirl -- on probation to be, at least." Sabel smiled coyly and the teacher went on: "She'll be lovely, I am sure! And will show her pride in belonging to me better than she can just now." The girl nodded and turned away from them. Sabel was going to ask who she was, but Cathy patted her rump: "Come, dear!" They walked into a huge barn, the largest the ebony had seen in her entire life. Some two hundred carts were parked in the central area, about half of them empty, the others already filled with vegetables and legumes and ready to leave for Charissa next morning. A long row of closed Dutch doors occupied the whole left side, and Sabel guessed that behind them were the stalls for the ponyboys. How many of them worked in such a big farm? Certainly some forty or fifty, perhaps more. Cathy let Sabel take the view in and led her along the right side, which was covered with a soft kind of dirt that felt good under her naked soles. No wheel tracks were on sight on it. Near the end of that wall, the Lady stopped at a small fountain and washed her feet, motioning for Sabel to do the same with hers. After the fountains, the ground changed to a sort of grass carpet that reached the corner of the barn. Cathy stopped in front of a door and pushed it ajar. Sabel felt a gentle tweak on her right nipple and walked through the door into a narrow corridor. She did not realize at the moment, but those steps had led her into a new life as well. Chapter Nine: In the stall "Sabel? Undress now, please." Cathy swallowed as the ebony took off her clothes: with those strong legs and firm body, she would make a wonderful ponygirl. She emptied the bag she had been carrying on her shoulder since leaving Charissa and patted the padding on top of a small wooden table: "Kneel here, dear." The bag contained Sabel's harness and a few other items. Cathy removed the crotch strap from it and buckled firmly the breasts bands, making two perfect V's in front and on back of Sabel's torso. "Knees apart now, the widest you are able to!" Sabel spread her legs aside and felt the crop sneaking from behind onto her sex. Cathy brushed it for some moments until it was quite damp; the ebony kept motionless, wondering what would come next. The teacher picked something and held it before her eyes. It looked like a belt, but Sabel had never seen anything like that. It had a metal section on the middle of the front part, with a ring on it. From its back dangled a long leather strap ending in a metallic inverted triangle, on top of which another ring had been welded. Some inches down from the waistband, this strap had a circular hole surrounded by a steel hem. Cathy fitted the belt on the back of Sabel's waist and pulled the leather strap upward across her crotch until the base of the triangle adjusted perfectly to the metal section on middle of the front part and the hole was just under her rear orifice. From a pocket on her vest she produced a lock and clasped it on the two rings. Sabel looked down: her sex was completely covered by the metal pieces, which now looked as if they were just one. "It was a good idea to have it custom made from the measurements she took for her harness", Cathy said to herself as turned around to admire her belted pony. At first Sabel thought that this must be another variety of crotch strap, more comfortable because it covered her labia instead of going between them. But she was soon to learn better -- the teacher turned a small button exactly over the ebony's pussy and something hard invaded it. She opened her mouth to ask what that was for, but the Lady cut her short: "It is a dildo. Hold it tight!" It was a very direct order and Sabel complied. Cathy smiled and fiddled with her fingers on the lock: "This is called a chastity belt, Sabel. It keeps your sex safe from lustful fingers, including your own." "But Miss... " "Quiet, Sabel, please. Give me your wrists." She buckled the cuffs on both wrists and kissed the pink palms, looking directly into the Nubian's eyes. How would she react to the tests she was going to put her through? They were going to be very different from just having reins clipped to her bit. Going behind Sabel, she pushed her arms up her back and tied her wrists tightly together. Slipping the long tails over her shoulders, she tugged on them, making Sabel's arms go up as far as they could, and buckled them on the ring just below her breasts, completely immobilizing her arms. Cathy kept her hand on the wrist cuffs, waiting for the girl's reaction. Would she attempt to free herself? Would she cry? She swallowed, recalling how two years ago a girl had flunked the midterm exam because of a fit of anxiety after having her arms tied that way. Sabel felt her biceps bulging under the strain that position put on them. She was surprised and frightened; that was really uncomfortable, and she wondered why Miss Cathy was doing that to her. For the first time since she had enrolled in the course, she asked herself if it was really that good to become a ponygirl. Perhaps Charra had been right that morning in the cafeteria... But she just closed her eyes and sighed: Miss Cathy's hand was resting on her fists, almost caressing them - she could not mean harm. "This is called the reverse prayer position, Sabel", the teacher said softly. "I am sure you can put up with it for a while." The ebony nodded. Cathy went around the girl and stopped to admire her. She was undoubtedly pretty and sexy - but was she docile enough to qualify as her personal pony? "Up!", she commanded, tugging lightly on the leash. Sabel sat on her heels and with some effort lifted her body to a standing position. Another tug on the leash made her jump down from the padded table, landing gracefully on her toes. The dildo was making her pussy tingle, and she looked at the teacher with a puzzled expression. "All this is about trust, Sabel. You are still concerned about what I do to you. Only when you learn not to even think about it, no matter what it is, will you have become a truly obedient pony. But this may take some time, and until then each surprise will be greater than the last one." Sabel opened her eyes wide. What was the teacher talking about? She had not noticed her small head movement in the morning. She recalled that Miss Cathy had already said something about trust, but had no time to ask: the Lady had picked a saddle from a peg and was adjusting it to her hips. "Tush push!" The girl leaned forward and stuck her butt out. "I am going to ride your hips today, Sabel, not you back. Open your mouth!" The saddle was very light, just a place for the rider to rest her bottom on. It snuggled onto her hips, barely hiding the mount's rear crack, and was provided with stirrups that reached just under Sabel's knees. Cathy pushed the bit into the ebony's mouth and snapped it firmly behind her head. Hitching two short reins to its rings, she stepped onto the low table and then onto the saddle. Her feet found the stirrups and Sabel spread a little her legs to support better the teacher's weight. "Walk around the table, Sabel." The ebony moved on, one foot after the other, very slowly. It was awkward to carry someone with her hands attached that way; on the other hand, it was easier to be ridden on her hips than on her bottom, because the saddle distributed the weight across her entire lower body. But the dildo rubbing against her walls caused such a curious sensation -- she had never been fucked while walking! Cathy unbuttoned her vest and leaned on Sabel's back, letting her breasts rest on the velvety skin and pressing her thighs against the strong legs. It was good to feel the muscles moving under them, to see the ebony leaning forward under her weight, her arms tightly bound as she wanted them to be. Once fully conditioned, that girl would be the finest pony she had ever trained... but she had still a long way to go. Sabel felt calmer with Miss Cathy encasing her with her thighs and breasts. All she had to do was to follow the teacher's commands, and try her best to please her. Her arms were aching a bit, but so they did after ten hours of scrubbing floors, didn't they? She felt Miss Cathy patting her haunch: "You are doing well, Sabel. When the river comes up in the springtime, this is how you are going to carry me. Now walk as far as that door, can you see it?" The saddled pony moved on and reached the door. With her crop, Cathy lifted a latchstring until it came near Sabel's mouth. "Use your teeth, dear." After some clumsy attempts, the girl caught the string with her teeth. With her forehead, she pushed the door open and stopped. A flick of the crop on her rump set her moving along a new corridor, which had small round windows every five or six yards to let daylight in. Sabel noticed that it was getting dark, and walked carefully. She tried to get a picture of where they were. The barn was rectangular and the first door was almost on the end of one of its long sides. They door she had just opened was on a corner, so they must be parallel to the side where the gate was. As she reached the end of that corridor, a new door with the same kind of latchstring appeared and she pulled on it. To her surprise, she found herself again in the open, with the huge barn to her left. Cathy directed her to walk along it. Sabel understood that they were going back to the entrance and looked to her left. Between the dirt road and the building, there were small yards, and behind each of them a Dutch door with its upper half open. Sabel guessed that they were walking past the stalls, and this was confirmed when she noticed the ponyboys poking out their heads. She slowed down to watch them and got a firm swat on her rump: Sabel Ch. 07-10 "Giddy up!" Cathy straightened up her torso, showing her round breasts. She knew that the ponyboys were not much interested in sex, but could recognize a ponygirl, and smiled at the thought of so many young eyes on her pretty Sabel's naked bottom. "Don't worry, dear. They are not stallions, just heavy-duty ponies to pull the carts. They can be milked, though -- and their seed has many uses, did you know that?" Sabel shook her head, amazed, but kept walking -- she didn't want her tushie swatted again. "It is very good for the skin, and... well, you will learn about that later. Move on!" Sabel kept walking past yard after little yard. "This barn must be at least six hundred feet long", she thought as she approached the last corner. Before she reached it, though, Cathy pulled on the reins to make her stop and slipped down from the saddle in front of the last Dutch door. Pointing to a sliver plate hanging from it, the teacher asked: "Do you want your name engraved here, my Sabel?" The ebony nodded. So this was the outer gate to her stall! The Lady opened it and she followed her into it. Soft straw covered the ground and felt good under the bottoms of her feet. Cathy unbuckled the saddle from Sabel's back and hooked it on a short round stick on the wall; she went on to untie the tails of her wrist cuffs and freed her hands. Sabel stretched her arms up to make away with the sensation of numbness - that prayer position, or whatever it was called, was simply awful! Next Cathy screwed the dildo out of her pussy and removed her bit. The breast strap, the chastity belt and the locked collar were all she had on her body now. Cathy narrowed her eyes: "time for another little test", she thought. "Wash it, dear -- there is a tap outside." She watched carefully as Sabel squatted by the tap, washed the bit and returned, not making any movement that could suggest a wish to stay outside more than necessary. She just walked into the stall and looked around to see what her new home looked like. It was not big -- some twelve feet long and maybe ten wide. There were a number of pegs and shelves on the walls; on a corner, a kind of cupboard, and on the floor a checkered woolen blanket spread on a mound of straw. From a loop just above it, a long chain coiled down; Sabel could not see its end because the sun was disappearing behind the hills and the light inside the stall was quite dim now. At the far end, the door leading into the barn was closed. "Miss Cathy -- do I sleep here?" Cathy smiled: her pony-n training was so tall that her head almost reached the ceiling. "Every night, my Sabel. I live here at the farm, and will take you every day into Charissa and back." Sabel didn't know that the teacher lived there. Her mind raced: how did she go to the capital then? Even if she lived on a farm, Ms. Stevenson had Teresa to carry her to the town when she needed to. Did Miss Cathy have other ponies besides her? She had never considered that possibility. "How do you go to the city then, Miss Cathy? Do you have other ponygirls?" It was none of a ponygirl's business how many human equines her owner possessed, but Cathy decided not to reprehend Sabel for her curiosity. She just ignored the question, while her thoughts wandered to Cinnamon Toast, the first pony she had had -- a present for her fifteenth birthday. She was a magnificent light mulatto, very obedient -- she had been raised to be a pony and knew what was expected from her -- and had given her young owner many hours of pleasure while she drove her across the beautiful area that surrounded the farm. Sabel felt her bladder full and looked around for some kind of sanitary vase. "Miss Cathy -- where do I piss?" "Oh, dear, I have forgotten to tell you! Your belt has tiny openings on the appropriate part, so you just squat over the hole outside. When you are done, press the flush on the ground and all will go down the sewer. Take care to clean yourself fully -- you can use the tap for that." Sabel did as she was told and discovered that the large hole she had not given much importance to was exactly around her back orifice, so that she could relieve herself without the belt having to be removed. She shuddered -- that meant that it could stay on her for a long time! How would she...? She suddenly realized that she would not -- the shield adhered so tightly to her skin that she would hurt herself if she tried to push even a finger under it. "Miss Cathy -- I am hungry..." she said as she turned the tap off and walked back into the pen. "Of course you are, my Sabel." The teacher opened the cupboard, lifted the lid of a metal-lined box and dipped out a huge scoop of granola. Pouring it on a shallow wooden bowl, she asked: "Do you like honey?" "Yes, Miss Cathy." "NADU!" Sabel looked surprised at the Lady, whom she could barely discern in the half darkness. "This is a new position, Sabel. Sit down on the blanket on your knees and heels, put your breasts straight out and part your legs. Palms open on your thighs." The ebony did as she was told and waited. "Are your eyes down? They must be, when you go "Nadu". Sabel looked down and heard a squishing noise from the tube of honey. Cathy put the bowl right before the kneeling girl, went around her and linked her wrists together with a small chain, which she tied to the long one dangling from the wall. "Lean down and put your hands on your back. A pony eats without using her hands, at least most of the times." Sabel approached her face to the bowl and lapped the honey from the granola. She didn't want her face smeared, so she ate very slowly. The food was tasty, with flavors she was not familiar with. She didn't notice when Cathy walked out from the stall and stayed for a moment contemplating the kneeling form of her new pony. When Sabel finished her meal and looked for the teacher, she was gone. *** I sighed. Miss Cathy had closed both halves of the door leading outside, and the silence and darkness were frightening me. I don't remember ever having slept alone -- at Ms. Stevenson's I lived in a collective loft with other Breeders' daughters, and since I began to work I have shared several apartments with Sixth Station girls. Why had she attached me to that chain? I couldn't believe it was some kind of punishment -- I had done nothing wrong, at least as far as I could see. I sat on my bed and felt the texture of the blanket under my skin. My pen smelled of wood and of straw, a nice scent that somehow soothed my fears. I attempted to put some order in my thoughts: so many things had happened that day! I remembered the short trip on the barge, the big brown stallion with that tube on his cock -- now I had something similar on my pussy! - my surprise when I learned that my mother had lived on this farm, Shaka's warm hug and her emotion as she learned that I was Obe's daughter... And that walk with Miss Cathy on my hips! I don't mind carrying her around -- I know that I am strong, she is light as a feather, and besides she knows how to ride, so it is easy to support her weight on one's back. But I hated her tying my arms like that -- reverse prayer, she had said the position was called. It can be called as she pleases, it hurts all the same! I only accepted that because she knows what she is doing and I so much want to become her ponygirl. What was that that she had said about trust? First when she was talking to me after class -- "I need to feel you more trusting about what I do to you, Sabel". I do trust her, why was she saying that? Then she repeated the same word when she was tying my arms. I must ask her about that. I looked for a position to sleep. Having my hands attached behind my back, I could not lie down on it as I usually do. So I leaned on my side and closed my eyes; I was quite tired, and fell asleep almost instantly. I must have slept for some hours. I woke up with a squeak on the door and the moonlight hitting my eyes. I rose up, terrified: "Who is there?" "Sabel, it is me! Please don't be frightened!" I breathed deeply to control myself. Miss Cathy entered my pen and I sensed her lemony lotion as she sat down by me. She pulled me close to her breast and to my surprise I felt its warm skin right on my cheek. "Please tell me if you are o.k." "I am, Miss Cathy. But this thing on between my legs is so..." I didn't finish my phrase: Miss Cathy was pushing my face near her tit, and I felt an urge to kiss it. She purred, so I went on and kissed it again and again, and started to lick her nipple. She lay down on my blanket: "Oh honey, your lips are so sweet!" I leaned over her and sucked her nipple into my mouth as her hands explored my body. I sensed that something was connecting us and getting stronger every day. I heard her voice, almost in a whisper: "Lay here on your back, honeygirl, and clasp your fingers over your head." I obeyed and felt her fumbling with the lock of my belt. A key turned inside it and she opened the front strap to free my pussy. I breathed quicker: her fingertip went where the dildo had been and her fine blonde hair flowed onto my face as she clasped her lips on my right nipple. I arched up, so happy that she had removed that strap, and her fingers slipped inside my tunnel. I stayed there, feeling her motions, already drenched. She left my nipple and covered my mouth with a warm kiss. I kissed her back and felt like an electric shock as she started to caress my clitty with her thumb and first finger. I folded up my legs and spread them wide to offer her better access to my button; I gasped and moaned -- she did it so well! A climax was building inside me; I moved my hips in circles, pressing my crotch against her fingertips. With her other hand she grabbed the band around my left ankle and put her mouth on my slit, sucking my labia into her mouth and using her tongue to tease me -- my thighs shivered, my orgasm was approaching -- and then she suddenly pulled back: "Enough for now, my dear." "Enough, Miss Cathy? But..." "No, honey. There will be many times, with so much more, and you will barely stand them after the pill. So think hard -- be sure that this is what you want." "I will, Miss Cathy. But right now I would so much like... you know... please..." "NO. I will leave your belt open, but don't even dare to remove your hands from your head." There was nothing I could do except obeys. She lay on my side and gently caressed my tummy as she spoke: "I am glad you are doing well, my Sabel. I was so worried! There are things I feel I have to do, even if at first they seem wrong or upsetting to you. If you trust me, you will see that all is fine." "I do trust you, Miss Cathy. I know you will do no harm to me." She kissed my forehead and said nothing for a while, then went on: "I am glad that you didn't argue about the reverse prayer position. It is not something I would ever make you live with." "I was so surprised, Miss Cathy - it is horrible! But I thought that if you were doing it, then it had do be done." "Of course it had. Thank you for telling me your thoughts, Sabel. Never hesitate to do so." I felt warmed by her words and asked: "Did I carry you well, Miss Cathy?" "You were very strong, as I knew you would be! I'm sure that my beautiful ebony will run fast and proud when she is pulling my cart, even when I would allow a walk or a trot. Do you want that?" "Yes, I do, Miss Cathy!" That was indeed what I wanted, I was sure. She caressed my thigh and changed the topic: "You have no idea of how shocked I was to find out about your mother, dear." "What has she done, Miss Cathy?" "You will know when the course is over. It was about power." I was eager to learn more, but I just nodded in the darkness. I already know enough about my teacher not to try and argue with her. When she says no, she means it. "Happiness is knowing that you matter, no matter where you are, dear, and that no place is better than another. Obe had a different idea. That is all." "Yes, Miss Cathy, we were taught that at school. But still, perhaps you don't know that one can want to lead a more interesting life. Me, for instance -- you cannot imagine how boring scrubbing miles of floors can be, Miss Cathy." I felt surprised at my own boldness: was it right to speak like that to a First Station Lady? I shrugged: she wanted me to show that I could trust her, and is there a bigger proof of trust than telling someone your most intimate thoughts? I felt relieved as she made no comment on what I had just said. "Some days in winter, when rain pours on your head, you may wish for that nice building you scrub in, honey. It takes so much trust for one to be owned by another person." I kept silent. She was right: one could have a bad master or mistress, feel sorry for having chosen to become a ponygirl, and it would be too late -- it was something that could not be undone. There was a long silence while she fondled my breast; I burned to ask Miss Cathy to finish me off, or at least let me touch myself, but what would be foolish -- she could just lock me up, and how long would I have to wait to be released again? "I didn't know that you were going to select me, Miss Cathy", I finally said. "Of course you did not. But you must have noticed how much I liked you from the first day." "Yes, Miss Cathy... that struck me. I have never met someone like you... so... so powerful. One trembles when you give out that gaze, but you can be sweet too. And your eyes!" "What do you mean, Sabel?" "How do you call that piece of iron that brings the small fillings to it?" "A magnet, honey. We say that the loadstone is magnetic." "Well, that is what you eyes are, Miss Cathy. Magnetic." Her hands started to explore my body again and I jerked slightly. "Some day I will tell you the stories of Charissa. She is a truly magnetic person, Sabel. How she found a way to feed so many - that was not easy! And how Christianna led her hosts and fought to keep the males from having their way over us. But you, Sabel, you have a charisma that comes from within and shines through your ebony skin and dark eyes." I don't know what a charisma is, but understood that she was comparing me to her and to the greatest heroines of Auronia, and my heart leapt in my chest. I remembered the mosaic on the hall of the Tumbuga hospital depicting the very scene she was speaking about. It was when I was working there that I got my "very worthy" mention, and I told Miss Cathy about it. "I am sure you well deserved it. It is nice to know that under the New State truth is written so more often than lies." She paused for a moment. "There are so many things I still don't know about the lower Stations." I felt so proud at her saying that my mention was well deserved! Before I could think, I heard myself saying: "I don't mind to be owned by you, Miss Cathy. Because it is you." She must have felt pleased by what I said, for she stopped talking, took my nipple into her sharp teeth and tugged on it to lift my breast. It went almost completely into her mouth; her head rested on my lap and I felt her fingers sliding down my tummy -- oh, how good -- towards my aching sex. With my wrists still bound by the small chain, I took her other hand and brought the palm to my lips. "Thank you, Miss Cathy", I whispered, and I knew that she would understand my plea. She is severe, sometimes gets angry, but she is a good woman and will be a good mistress. She said nothing and went on with her caresses, letting her fingertip turn inside me. I was in heat and moaned in response. She slipped another finger in, cupped my pussy with her palm and started to grind it against my clit. I arched up and heard her muttering something that I didn't wholly understand -- "young panther... tamed... on my leash...", or something like that. I had only seen pictures of panthers, but suddenly I felt I was one and she was my trainer. I growled -- "grrrrrrr!" - and showed her my teeth as if I was going to bite her hand. It was dark inside the stall and I don't think she noticed that. Wet noises were coming from my pussy as she brushed my little knob with her fingers. I was ready to burst out, but she stopped and parted my knees. "Sabel, don't bring your legs together now, and put your hands back where I told you to." Her tongue went directly on my button and I felt her pinning my ankles down. It was so strong a sensation -- absolutely new for me -- being teased like that and not being able to close my legs! My thighs shivered in unison with my belly as if had a fever; I gushed a tiny spurt when she captured my clitty between her lips and started to shake her head. And then it came, a powerful explosion that sent me jerking and gushing like I had never done with Robin. Wave after wave took me over -- I think that it was the first time I had what they call a multiple orgasm. She would not stop sucking and after my third or fourth climax in a row I screamed in agony. She put her palm on my mouth --"Shhh, Sabel!" and I licked it furiously, feeling it salty on my tongue. "My little black panther", she said softly as she pulled out and I began to relax. My body was warm and damp after so strong a release. "Miss Cathy... thank you... this was fantastic!" "I am very happy that you enjoy sex so much... now." "I do, Miss Cathy!" My mind was so numb that I didn't notice her last word -- "now". It was only later that I fully understood what she was alluding to. Miss Cathy kissed me and lifted the strap from behind my thighs to fit it in place. I shuddered at the clicking of the lock -- but there was no point in arguing. She wanted my pussy "safe", and safe it should stay. She slipped out into the moonlight; she kissed her own palm and blew the kiss toward me, like it was going to land on my cheek. How cute! A sweet calm fell on me. Darkness and silence were not frightening any more - and I fell into a dreamless sleep. Chapter Ten: The real thing Next morning, as she woke up, what had taken place the night before came again into Cathy's mind. She had been worried about her Sabel out in the stable and wondered if she would choke learning to eat as a pony. Perhaps she was not ready for the things she was being put through. Why had she brought the ebony home so soon? Then she recalled how Sabel had let herself be teased almost to the point of having an orgasm, how she had patiently waited in spite of her obvious need to be relieved, how she had told her what was in her mind with such complete confidence. The girl was naturally docile and seemed to adapt well to a firm pulse. And how intense was her sexual responsiveness! Cathy remembered a study she had read about how girls reacted to the pill implant, which confirmed her own experience: ebonies often became skittish and had to wear a chastity shield until they learned not to touch themselves without their owner's permission. This was why she had had one made for Sabel, and now that she had watched the girl jerking like a lassoed wild filly while having a climax with her hands over her head she felt that she had done the right thing. She got dressed and went to the kitchen for a quick breakfast. Shaka had already put some milk in a jug, prepared a bowl of cereal and spread her favorite kind of jam on three slices of freshly baked bread. The smell of coffee and bread filled the house, and Cathy thanked the old servant for taking care of her so well. Shaka just grinned and went out to look after her tasks: a new day was beginning at the Magnusson farm. The blonde Lady sneaked out the weave of thorns and walked briskly to the stables. She unbolted the outer door to Sabel's pen and smiled at the pretty picture before her eyes. The ebony was sleeping peacefully, with her legs folded. Some dust still adhered to her fair soles, marking neatly the arches on her feet. The chain from her wrists went all the way up to the loop on the wall, and her belt glinted as a sunray touched it. Sabel Ch. 07-10 Cathy crept into the stall and kissed Sabel's cheek. The girl opened her eyes, still half asleep. A lavender scent filled the pen: Miss Cathy had freed her hands and was gently rubbing her arms. "Morning, Miss Cathy!" She was surprised to see the Lady wearing only boots -- what could that mean? Her eyes wandered over the fair skin and the fine blonde hair: the teacher was very pretty naked like that, her silhouette cut against the rectangle of blue sky appearing through the open door. "Are you sore in your arms? I brought you some milk to eat with your granola, dear." "I'm o. k., Miss Cathy", Sabel said, and went into the yard to relieve her bladder. She washed herself at the tap, taking care to clean well between her legs, and came back. Miss Cathy had poured milk on the cereal; the ebony ate her breakfast, feeling thankful that this time she could use a spoon. "I love riding naked in my surrey when inside the grounds", Cathy said, smiling mischievously. "There are miles of trails inside the farm, Sabel, with creeks to cross and steep hills to try your strong legs on. I will let you find inside yourself the strength to climb them -- no urging uphill, as this is not class." Sabel squatted on her blanket to listen. "I think I can do the hills, Miss Cathy." Cathy raised her brows. That remained to be seen. She pointed to a knob that Sabel hadn't noticed yet. "Open that door." Behind the door there were full size drawings representing ponygirls in harness. Sabel's jaw fell to her throat as she saw her mother kneeling with her hands behind her back, attached by a waistband to a cart. Obe had a red harness, bells on her nipples and a flashy headstall. "She never told you she was here, did she?" Cathy snapped. Sabel shook her head. There were so many things about her mother's past that she didn't know! She touched the drawing, imagining how those bells would feel on her own nipples. "Obe was my mother's ponygirl. The cart you saw yesterday was once pulled by your mother... but that story can wait." Cathy came near the girl and examined the straps of her harness. The rough edges had left marks on the black skin. She took a kind of blade out of a drawer and rubbed it on the rough parts to smooth them. Sabel stood still, her heart warming at that demonstration of tenderness from her owner -- yes, she could already consider Miss Cathy as such! And in a few moments she was going to pull her for the first time... She shivered slightly as the Lady ran her nails over her buttocks. "See, dear - now it is o.k." Snapping a leash onto her collar, the teacher led Sabel into the tack room. She told the Nubian to sit down on a stool and slipped a headstall over her head. Pulling her ponytail through a ring in the back, she snuggled it into place, smiling as Sabel obediently opened her mouth for the bit. Her wrists were tied behind her back and the cuff tails buckled across her tummy -- and the girl felt a quiver going down her spine at the thought that she would be running on the same paths her mother had once trodden. Cathy took a pair of boots from a big drawer. Sabel had never seen that kind of footwear: they were half the length of normal shoes and their front was round, making them look like horse hooves, and had a fancy trim just under the knees. The Lady slipped one on Sabel's left foot and laced it on her calf; it molded to the footpad, leaving her heel bare. "These are show boots for your first day, honey, not for everyday", Cathy said, fitting the second one in place. She hooked the reins on Sabel's bit and lifted her head so that she could stand up. The ebony looked even taller with the boots; her tush was pushed out because of the buckled wrists and her tummy sucked in -- a delicious o picture that Cathy savored for some moments. Sabel moved her toes inside the boots: the leather was soft, and they fitted nicely under the curve of her feet. Cathy let her make a few steps to get used to them and told her to kneel down. A bell was hooked on her forehead and two others attached to her nipples with silver clover champs. Sabel gulped: it was going to start for good! "Up!" She felt a tug on her leash and was taken into huge barn. A gleaming black surrey with narrow wheels was parked near a wall. Pink upholstery covered the seat; a cover, adorned with a fringe on the front and a small window in the back protected the driver from the sun or from rain. Sabel walked into the space between the shafts and the teacher hooked the short chains to her waistband. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply: it was there that she wanted to be, nowhere else! Cathy's mind rushed as she walked back to admire her pony -- everything seemed to fit so perfectly. The surrey looked like it had been made for a black mare, and she had found the prettiest she could wish for. "Sabel, I want you to make a full circle around me." The ebony walked carefully, dragging the surrey behind her. It was lighter than the cart she had pulled in class, and because of the form of the boots she had to lean forward a bit to keep balance. Cathy walked up to her and tugged one of the nipple bells, making it ring with a merry sound. She went behind the pony and tapped on her right shoulder; as Sabel knelt down, she felt a silk scarf slipping over her eyes and being knotted behind her head. "You have to trust me now, my Sabel", Cathy said softly, and flicked the crop twice on her shoulder. Sabel put her forehead to the ground. How would she fare pulling a cart blindfolded, she wondered, and felt the stems being pushed down as the Lady took her place on the seat. Two clicks of her tongue - Sabel took some impulsion on her thighs and rose to her feet. All her senses were alert; the reins tightened as Miss Cathy pulled them back, and a "pop!" on her bottom cheek told her that she could go. She moved ahead, very slowly, one foot after the other. The Lady was easy to carry, but now she depended entirely on her commands not to stumble or fall. Cathy directed her through the gate and her skin told her that she was in the open. A light tug on the rein made her turn right; she executed the move with care, first her right leg, then the left one, until she was done and the cart was in the correct position behind her. A flick on her rump made her start off. As she was not able to see what she was doing, her other senses had become much sharper: as she moved on, she could smell the flowers to her right, hear the bells ringing, and feel the touch of the leather on her bare soles. "Higher knees, my pony! Try to feel the cart jostling and make it smoother, please!" The ebony kept her hips on a straight line and took care not to wiggle her haunches, feeling more secure as she walked. Cathy chuckled at the lovely picture before her eyes: Sabel's naked bottom pushed out, her wrists attached behind her back, the ponytail going though the ring and swishing slightly as she walked -- it was just as she had imagined it would be. "Whooa!" Sabel stopped and heard Shaka's voice: "She is so pretty, Miss Cathy!" "Shaka, go in front of her -- you will be so amazed!" Sabel felt the smell of the servant's hair right under her nose. "Just like Obe, Miss Cathy... only taller! It is incredible! But excuse me please, I have to rush." Sabel heard the noise of Shaka's flip-flop sandals going away and began to walk, but felt a strong pull on her bit and stopped, surprised. "Wait until I give you the sign! Tush out!" Sabel obeyed and contracted the muscles on her buttocks, wondering where the crop would land -- right or left cheek? But Cathy did not punish her: she wanted her new pony to learn to pay attention to the commands of the reins and to the "crop language". Sabel kept still, tense as a spring: Cathy counted up to fifty and flicked the left rein. Sabel turned immediately to that direction and waited until the crop touched her rump, then started moving. The road went downward now: she pulled with care, all her attention concentrated on the reins and on what they would tell her. Suddenly the smooth path ended and the faint mist of a pond touched her skin. She felt grass under her boots, and the cart became heavier on her hips as the wheels sank into the soft ground. She leaned forward and pulled harder; drops of sweat appeared on the rippled muscles on her back and damped the strap on her forehead. "How will she fare on the hill?" Cathy asked herself as she flicked the crop on the naked black bottom in front of her: Sabel had slowed down because of the effort. "You are very close to the lake edge, dear. Take care now, but keep going." Sabel nodded: the smell of water had hit her nostrils. Cathy tugged to the right and she sensed the cart weighing more as she began to climb a hill, step after arduous step. Cathy smiled and muttered to herself: "What a healthy girl she is, how prettily her rump flexes with this harder work! She seems so natural in a harness, really willing to do her job..." Soon the path became flat and smooth again. Sabel breathed deeply and felt proud: she had done it - climbed a hill with a cart, and blindfolded! "Time to trot, little, honey! Giddy up!" Sabel took impulsion and started on a light trot, a bit worried but knowing that Miss Cathy would direct her with care. "Then this is what trust is about", she thought, "relying on her to know what I have to do!" The hooves clanked on the road and the bells jingled happily as she gained more confidence. After some minutes Cathy felt some pressure on the reins, as if the ebony wanted to speed up, and held them firmly. "She has a wonderful sense of motion", she thought as the wind kissed her cheeks, "but still has to learn who is in command here..." "There is a steep hill now, Sabel! Up you go!" It was hard to pull the cart uphill and the ebony slowed down; the muscles on her thighs were contracting and beginning to ache. Cathy could see how she struggled to keep going. Not knowing how long she would have to go, Sabel saved her forces, feeling her heart thumping inside her chest. She wanted to succeed and show Miss Cathy that she could do what was required from her -- her calf muscles popped out as the hill became steeper, the wheels were sinking again because of the grass -- she leaned forward, pulling the surrey with her hips -- oh, when would that path end? Cathy was very pleased. That hill was quite hard even for ponyboys. It was evident that the girl was determined to pass that test; she was bent forward, her legs moved slowly but firmly, her black skin was aglow with sweat, her respiration heavy. "She was born for this", Cathy thought, leaning back and letting the reins loose. "Only a little more, sweet pony, and we reach the trees!" Sabel gnawed on her bit and moved on. That was real hard, but she was going to do it! The cart seemed so heavy now; she had almost no forces left, and her body ached from the effort. And then the road became flat again and Miss Cathy tightened the reins; the bit pressed against the corners of her lips and she stopped. The cart stems lightened and she felt fingers caressing behind her neck: "That was wonderful, Sabel!" The scarf was whisked away and Sabel smiled faintly, trying in vain to lick some drool from her chin. She looked around and felt happy: the landscape was so beautiful! They were under a shady tree; down on the plain, farmhands were busy with their tasks; on the wide path leading to the barns, a few ponyboys were pulling carts filled with legumes and fruit. A soft breeze blew on her face as she struggled to recuperate her breath. Cathy took a bottle of water from the surrey and sprayed Sabel's body with it, laughing when she jumped and twitched from surprise. "Oh, honey, I knew you were strong, but this is amazing! Most of the ponyboys cannot make it on their first trial! Wait until Mother hears of this... and Shaka... and Charmagne... Sabel, I do hope you will like being part of our life here!" The Nubian's eyes flashed, showing how proud she was of her accomplishment, and even more so because the blonde Lady was praising her. Cathy let her cool down and sat again on the seat. She flicked the reins and Sabel moved on. After the hill, everything seemed easy; for almost two hours, with a few intervals to rest, she pulled Miss Cathy around, relishing in the sights and in the sheer pleasure of jogging under the warm sun. *** When they reached the barn, Cathy unharnessed her pony and hosed her, laughing at her squeals as the cold water touched her skin. She walked to a shower and turned the water on, motioning for Sabel to bathe her. The ebony took a bar of soap and went behind the Lady. Cathy leaned back to let her shampoo her hair, feeling Sabel's hands moving while she massaged her scalp. "She will know how to wash me like no man could ever do!" she thought. "Why have I waited so long to allow myself such a pleasure?" She opened her legs and closed her eyes. Sabel knelt down and felt a shudder: her owner's pussy was just before her eyes, rosy and almost asking to be kissed. She controlled the urge to press her lips against it and leaned back. Holding Miss Cathy's foot in her hand, she washed it carefully and went up along the calf and between her legs. Cathy felt her sex tingle as those expert fingers covered it with lather. She glanced between the ebony's parted thighs: there it was, her chastity belt, shining with the water that poured on it. Clara's words came back to her mind: "they must save their energy to pull their owners around". "Sabel has energy enough, but it its important to make her feel that she is now my property. The belt is a subtle means to assert one's authority", she thought as the girl's hands moved up her tummy and breasts. Sabel rose up and rinsed the Lady; how soft her skin was under her palms! "Time for lunch, sweetie! You will go with me to the house." "Oh, thanks, Miss Cathy!" The teacher took Sabel's hand in hers and they hurried to the house. One could mistake them for two schoolgirls, were it not because on was naked, while the other wore a collar and had her pussy locked under a chastity shield. After washing their feet in a fountain in front of the house, they sneaked through the maze into the big room Sabel already knew. Cathy touched twice the ebony's shoulder and she went "Friday"; the teacher paced the room and filled her eyes with the gorgeous form so obediently waiting at her feet. Finally Shaka appeared. "I'm bringing Sabel for lunch, Shaka." "Oh, so quickly, Miss Cathy? She must have been good, then!" "You wouldn't believe, Shaka. She could outdo most of the ponyboys I've tested on Lark Hill. She has such wonderful ebony legs, and just digs deeper and deeper inside herself to find more power!" "You always choose good animals, Miss Cathy." "Well, I have been wrong sometimes. But you are right... she will make an excellent animal, I am sure." Sabel felt a shiver at being called an "animal", but kept still, her eyes fixed on the tiny white toes in front of her. She could not know that Cathy was saying to herself: "there is something more here, something I am yet to know... I can feel it!" Two clicks of Miss Cathy's tongue told her to stand up, and they followed Shaka into the next room. Sabel was astonished: she had never seen anything like that room. The ceiling opened up into the second story for nice cooling, and there were two fountains at the sides for the same purpose. Padded pillows lay on the hardwood-framed furniture. A beautiful chandelier made of ocean shells turned slowly around and back, making dapples and sprinkles of light along the walls. Portraits of Caroline, Charmagne and Miss Cathy with their naked bodies painted by the best body artists of all Auronia hung on the sides of a fireplace. On the opposite wall, there were silver-framed pictures of people Sabel didn't know, but she recognized the pretty blonde-haired girl she had met the previous day. She stopped before a picture of her mother in normal clothing and felt tears coming to her eyes. "Lunch time!" Shaka said, interrupting Sabel's tour and putting on the table a tray with sliced fresh fruit and a big pitcher of lemonade. Cathy watched as the ebony sat down so gingerly and careful and ate a slice of mango, seemingly awed by the situation. "Is your mother still alive, Sabel?" Shaka asked. "I think so, Shaka. I haven't seen her for seven years, you know." "Please, Shaka!" Miss Cathy said. "This wouldn't seem the sight moment for that!" "Oh Miss Cathy, it is, if you allow it", Sabel said before she could control her emotion. "This is so high in her mind that I cannot stop her", the blonde Lady thought, nodding and biting her lip. "She never told you about your grandmother, did she, Sabel?" Shaka went on, and didn't wait for the reply. "She was my sister, Sabel. Obe is my niece." The girl was so surprised that she let escape her slice of mango and had to fetch it from the ground. She tried to conceal how moved she was, but when Shaka opened her arms and said, "Come here, child!", she rose up and warmly hugged the black servant. Cathy jumped up and hugged them. She was moved too. Her mind was in turmoil at the feelings that had been growing in her. From the moment she had set her eyes on that black beauty jogging in the park, she had imagined her as a ponygirl -- no, as her ponygirl. She was so tall and lean, so pretty -- how delicious it would be to tame her and teach her to respond to her commands! Then she had seen her working at the government building and caught herself imagining that round bottom naked and wiggling before her -- and those luscious lips lapping the juice that formed between her thighs at that idea. Now there was another feeling - a kind of tenderness, a wish to open for her a whole world that she would never know if she spent her life as a Sixth Station cleaner: the nice world of a First Station family, of the simple life on the fertile farm that fed so many people and was such a perfect symbol of all the New State stood for. Sabel seemed to fit so naturally in that frame! The picture of her sleeping peacefully in her stall came back to Cathy's mind. That girl had been born to become a ponygirl: strong, fast -- and obedient. She was entitled to her share of happiness -- and she, Cathy Magnusson, was going to ensure that she would get it. "She will make a fine pony, Miss Cathy", Shaka said, as if she had read Cathy's thoughts. "I am so happy you have found her!" "Sure she will! I know what Obe has done, but Sabel will be different, Shaka. I promise! She will never help anyone turn against us." Sabel swallowed. Was she going to discover more about her mother's misdeeds? But she remembered Miss Cathy saying that she had to wait until the course was over. She sat down again and went on with her meal. "Oh God, I have said too much!" Cathy whispered as if talking to herself. She shook her head and sat by the table: "Feed me, Sabel!", she said, leaning towards her and waiting to see what the Nubian would choose. Sabel picked a bunch of red grapes, squatted down by the Lady's feet and carefully put one on her tongue. Cathy ate the grapes one by one, with a mischievous look on her eyes. Suddenly she leaned down and pinched Sabel's nipples, just enough to feel her becoming tense. Her mouth found the ebony's and she pushed the last grape into it, kissing her as she swallowed the fruit. How pretty were her dark brown eyes with high arching brows! "I hope you make it past the midterm, Sabel, or this may be your last lunch here!" Sabel's eyes opened in surprise and she shook vigorously her head. "Of course she will", the black servant said, taking away the empty tray. Cathy stood up and pulled Sabel's hand.