6 comments/ 7280 views/ 6 favorites Career in White Slaving By: johm55 This story is suitable only for 18+ who are not upset by adult themes of sex, bondage and BDSM. If you are, please read something else. This is a fictitious story about fictitious people, fictitious places and fictitious activities. It is not intended as a lifestyle suggestion nor a sexual manual. All the fictitious people in this story are adults of 18+ (I know because they all showed me their birth certificates) who took part in the story of their own volition and no coercion was used. Some damage was caused but kept to a minimum. The right to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. p.s. British English throughout. ***** "Jack" said my uncle "now you're eighteen, it's time you got a job. A job with prospects." "Yes, uncle" I replied "but where can I get one?" "I have a company. You start tomorrow." "Thank you uncle. but what company and where?" Next day I turned up for work at a company called Industrial Components Ltd. Apparently he was a director. When I arrived, I reported to Uncle who called in the office manager. "This is my nephew, Jack, Jack Trelauny. Please instruct him in the business." "Certainly, Sir. If Jack would come with me, I'll start him off." I followed Mr Ormskirk as he was called. He took me to Personnel. Handing me over to a well dressed man aged about thirty who took me into the import department. "Now, Mr Trelauny. This is the department you will start in. It will show you where we get our original goods. Mr Jones, our imports manager will show you the ropes." "Mr Trelauny, may I call you Jack?" Asked Mr Jones. "Why not. It's my name and technically, I'll be working for you, Mr Jones." "Er... yes. That's er... fine. OK Jack. Let's start. Now, what do you know about our company?" "To be honest, absolutely nothing!" "Oh dear. That's rather difficult. Perhaps I should show you to your office and I'll check with your uncle. This way!" He took me across the building and up to the ninth floor where he ushered me into an outer office. "This is where your secretary or PA works. I'll introduce you later. And this," pointing to a large office adjoining the outer office, is your office. As you can see, it has a good view of the harbour. If you'll just make yourself at home here, I'll go see your uncle. I'll be back directly." He returned about ten minutes later, sat down and cleared his throat. "Your uncle confirms that you are to be fully informed. Apparently he has hopes you will want to take over from him when he retires." He then went on to explain how the company worked and what it's main product was - slaves. To be precise female sex slaves. I was shocked at first but as he went on, I was astonished. It was a large international organisation, grossing millions and my uncle wanted me to take over his part in it. Apart from the product, it was a young man's dream, all the pussy he could handle and then some and to be paid, handsomely for it! I couldn't wait to start. Mr Jones then explained. "This white slaving organisation is run like an ordinary multi-national business. The men running the actual capture gangs, are always accompanied by their retinue consisting of several naked female slaves who are used to fetch and carry, provide sex at meetings or actually serve as furniture, like stools or footrests. They have agents in places like Belarus, Romania and Bulgaria who capture females which are then brought into the nearest holding shed before being shipped to the central warehouse unit. Each capture has a tag attached to the ear, similar to the tags used to identify cattle. It has the capture number and is colour-coded to indicate the country. For example Poland is yellow and Belarus is green. This tag stays attached while she is our stock. The clients may remove or leave it, I don't know or care." went on Mr Jones "The tag number and colour is used on our computer records which is the only way we can handle the number of items we have in stock. The bulk of the stock is sold for use in brothels. Any that are better class are sold via the internet on a web site we laughingly call 'G bay' where interested parties can browse, search and find girls that fit their needs. They are then purchased and delivered. Some times they find really exciting females or especially beautiful. But the most desired are virgins. These would be auctioned off at a special monthly auction when top clients would attend. Our teams specialise in 'capture to order'. If any of our clients have a special need they will arrange for selection and delivery (at a price) of any specified requirements. Naturally the girls destined for brothel use are only crudely broken, whipped and repeated raped. Ordinary employees can use girls destined for the brothel stock by request. Because a bonus system is in place, each employee can also 'rent' a trainee to take home for a few hours, days or a week. This accustoms the stock to their eventual purpose. With care it was possible to accumulate sufficient bonus to purchase a girl but this was unusual as the temporary use of a girl and availability of PA's (I'll explain these in more detail later) meant permanent ownership was an unnecessary expense. The higher grade of slave would be trained with more care and never rented out. The virgins are locked into chastity belts, untouched and with large penalties for improper use. If we find any which are particularly strong or suitable they will be broken to harness and trained as pony-girls. We have a small but steady demand for this product and there is talk of expanding this area of our operation, perhaps setting up 'dude ranches' for interested clients. Most managers used a personal assistant cum secretary to help in their work, serve drinks, take notes, produce letters etc. Because of the type of organisation, the PA's are intelligent slaves who serve naked except for a steel collar and high-heeled shoes. Naturally the manager has complete use of his allocated PA but only within the office building. Because of this, it is not unusual for a PA to be seen, kneeling in front of their manager in the cafeteria giving them a blow-job or being used as a seat or cushion. Mostly however, the manager just takes the PA over the desk when he feels the need. As the PA's are technically stock, they are allocated to a particular manager for a short period only, mainly less than three months after which they would be available for use by other managers. This prevents any real attachment being formed. If deemed unsatisfactory or the manager feels like a change, they can, of course, be changed earlier but punishments can only be dispensed by specially trained staff who work in the stock handling department, so if punishment is merited, the manager has to send an internal memo requesting same, specifying degree of error. The PA is 'booked out' from the stock room each day when the manager starts work and is returned there before they leave the building at the end of the day. As they are slaves, no employee is allowed to leave them unattended. If they are not needed for an hour or so, they can be chained up to rings mounted in every corridor or temporarily returned to stock. One important point is that any damage has to be charged for, so the employee should check the slave thoroughly before leaving the stock room. Damage identified would be reported to the stock clerk for entry in the slave's records before they are taken, very similar to procedures when hiring a car, likewise on return. Once a PA's duty cycle ends, they would be sold off via G bay, often fetching good prices because of the experience gained. What is not emphasised is that sex is encouraged because the PA's are expected to become pregnant during their term of service, they are in fact used by the company as brood mares and the employees provide a free sperm donation. Each time the slave is returned to the stock room, they are checked with a pregnancy kit. When they reach six months (or later if not showing) they are taken out of service and sent to the baby farm until delivery. After the baby is produced, the female will suckle it for a week then be taken to the milking sheds. Providing a steady supply of human milk is another nice little side earner. If the PA is surplus because sufficient milkers are already in use, a good price can be obtained via G bay as there is also an active market for lactating females. The baby will be sold for adoption, another source of income as childless parents are prepared to pay heavily for white babies. The firm's motto could be 'waste not, want not'." Mr Jones smiled when he said this, obviously his pet joke. When he had finished explaining, Mr Jones took me to the Stock Department to obtain my own PA. We entered the room, where a naked female sat at a desk, typing busily. She stopped, stood up and asked "How may we help you, master?" "This is a new employee, Mr Trelauny, he will be working in the import department and needs a PA. What have you in stock?" "We have six available here but if unsuitable we can provide choice of a further dozen by tomorrow. May I bring in our current selection for your attention?" "Yes." She bowed and entered a room at the back of the office. "Jack. When they come in, examine them carefully and select any one you like. If none appeal, we'll return tomorrow to see the others. Now, it will have to work with you for at least three months, so don't just take any. Make sure you are happy with your selection and don't forget to check for damage. Of course, you can always change if it turns out to be unsuitable or even if you just get fed up with your choice." As he said this, the girl returned followed by six others, all naked except for collar and high-heels. The clerk formed them into a line in front of us and they then took up a formalised stance, I later found out it was called 'the display position', one of many positions they were trained to take on command. This entailed standing upright with legs about eighteen inches apart. The hands were clasped behind the neck with the elbows pulled back. This raised the breasts and tightened them. The hips were thrust forwards, revealing their vulvae, eyes looking down and mouth slightly open. I noticed that every pubis was clean shaven as were under the arms. All looked firm and fit. "Right Jack, let's see what we've got." said Mr Jones "Examine each one carefully. Remember it's got to be usable by you. Here, I'll show you how." As he said this, he approached the left hand girl beckoning her forward out of the line. He checked her hair, eyes, ears and nose. Then pulling open her mouth, examined her teeth and gums even pulling out the tongue to check it's colour, He ran his hands over her breasts, stomach and legs. He then put his hand between her legs and pushed his fingers into her vulva, while doing this his other hand was caressing her rear. "Turn and bend." He ordered. Without hesitation, the girl turned and bent over, keeping her hands behind her neck. He pulled her buttocks apart and groped her anus. He then told her to resume her position. Turning to me, he said "Now you check the next one out. Then do the same for all before you decide. We're not in a hurry so be thorough." He then sat down and waved me forward. I then proceeded to have the most exciting hour or so I'd ever had in all my life as I carefully checked each girl, extremely thoroughly. On several occasions I got my fingers so wet when feeling her vulva that I had to get her to lick it clean. By the time I was finishing the third girl, my erection was so hard, I had difficulty bending. "I see you're enjoying the examination Jack, why don't you get rid of that bulge by putting it into the next one? The stock clerk won't mind. After all that's all they're good for." It took me seconds to comply with his suggestion. I pushed back the one I'd just finished examining and gestured the next one to approach. "Turn and bend over" I freed my penis which sprang up rigid and without ceremony, plunged it between her legs and into her vagina, She pushed back against me as I grabbed her hips and started thrusting. Almost at once, I came, pouring my sperm into her. Pulling out I said "turn around and clean me." I stood erect as she knelt in front of me and took my penis into her mouth. She licked and sucked me clean, then withdrew her mouth. "Stand up" I said, putting my penis away and zipping up. I then started my examination of the girl. Obviously when I put my fingers into her vulva, I got covered by my sperm, so she had to suck my fingers clean. The next one was small and dark haired, I checked her more cursorily as even my sexual interest was getting sated, rather like being locked in a sweet shop; after so long you can't eat another sweet. In this case, after playing with so many available female bodies, I'd rather lost interest, however when I came to the last one, my interest and my penis perked up. She was rather tall with long brown hair. Her breasts were full, rounded and just enough to fill my hands with a small waist and a delightfully pert rear. She was so good that I didn't bother to do more than a quick look because I'd already decided that she was mine. I stood back from her, indicating that she could rejoin the others. I turned to the stock clerk and asked "do they have to wear high-heels?" "No sir, not of you don't want them to, however the collar is compulsory." "I understand that, of course it is. I'll take number six but bare-foot please." "Of course. Have you completed your examination?" I nodded "Then if you'll sign the docket for her, you can take her away. I assume Mr Jones has told you about collecting, returning them and general handling?" "Yes, I understand about not leaving her unattended." I said as I signed. "In that case, here's a lock and chain in case you need to lock it up. Any complaints, please tell us, we'll do our best to sort them out. Enjoy." She turned and ushered the others away. I beckoned my choice to follow me as we returned to my office. My new job included processing new deliveries. I had to inspect them, collect details and record it in our database, ready for the stock room to offer them to the respective buyers. Mr Jones was going to show me what to do on the first couple of shipments. He had already explained the procedures to be followed. As it happened, the next day we got a message saying twelve, mostly from Bulgaria, would be arriving by container lorry at approximately 10 am. As soon as they arrive, Mr Jones would call me. In preparation, I had equipped my PA, who I called 'Sexpot', with pen and pad and she assured me that she spoke Bulgarian as well as several eastern European languages if necessary. I called her 'Sexpot' because of my warped sense of humour. First she was very sexy anyway but her capture number was 753-yellow, which meant she was Polish. 7 + 5 + 3 = 15 and 1 + 5 = 6. 6 is spelt 'six', so I mangled it into 'Sexpot' because my humour is sometimes very childish. As she was a slave, having a name was privilege enough, even one like 'Sexpot' and to me, for the present, she was all mine for sex. As soon as I arrived in the morning, I collected Sexpot from the store and told her to make me a tea and get two rounds of wholemeal toast from the canteen. I specified how I wanted my tea. It is, in fact, one of several things that I was particular about. I wanted black tea, no sugar and it had to be weak enough for me to just see the bottom of the cup. We has spent most of my first day getting it right. By the time she had produced a cup to my standards, she had earned several disciplinary strokes and I had the pleasure of admiring the result when I next collected her. I suppose it was only to be expected, even English people have difficulty making the perfect cup of tea, so how could I expect a Pole to get it right first time? The simple answer which my uncle had produced for me during lunch was: she's a slave, slaves are expected to be perfect every time, first time. If not, they get punished. That's life, at least in this organisation. I was only a beginner as a slave master, so I bowed to an expert. Any way, I was just finishing my tea and feeding the last of my toast to Sexpot, who was kneeling gracefully at my feet when the phone rang. It was Mr Jones. The lorry had arrived, could I meet him down at number three loading bay? I agreed, told Sexpot to 'heel',and bring a notebook and pencil before making my way to the loading bay. I walked up to Mr Jones, who was watching the lorry backing up to the loading dock. While we waited, he pointed out the 'crush pen'. This was two runs of wire mesh, about six foot tall and about two foot apart very similar to the chutes used for sheep dipping or TB testing on cattle. This ran across the dock with an opening facing the outside. The other opening which was about twenty feet away led further into the bay, where the holding pens were sited. There were seven pens, one for each type of slave: brothel, G bay, auction, virgin and pony. The other two would be used for problem or injured girls who would be held until a senior manager decided their fate. Of course we could also use one for any 'taken to order' but as far as we were aware, there were none in this consignment. The 'crush pen' was used to hold the slaves after unloading while each individual slave was washed down, graded and logged. Because the sides of the pen were narrow, we could stop the group at any point by sliding poles across the mesh walls so that they could neither go forward or backwards and one at a time could then be 'popped' out of the pen. Between this pen and the others was a 'station' which had chains which could hold the slave if required while she was examined and measured before moving her into the appropriate pen. Once finished the next one was brought forward. It was simple but effective. Just in case of trouble, there were two of the qualified stockmen complete with cattle prod and riding crop. The cattle prods were de-tuned a little, I believed but still a very effective deterrent to trouble-makers. The usual practice was to touch one of the early arrivals with the prod for any excuse. The reaction was more than enough to use them as a threat for the rest of the consignment. Finally, the lorry was in position and the rear doors were opened. No body moved for a few minutes, to allow the stench to lessen, they had been locked in the container for more than two days. Obviously no toilet facilities were provided except for a thick layer of straw on the floor of the container, it couldn't cope with the output from twelve frightened females. One of the stockmen then went in, to reappear, half dragging a dark-haired girl out of the back. She was sobbing and I noticed that her arms were bound behind her back. Naturally she was naked. As he pushed her into the crush pen I could see the red tag in her ear lobe marking the capture as Bulgarian. Once she entered the pen, the other stockman went to get another one. This was repeated for the remainder of the twelve. The third one tried to kick her handler who retaliated by using the prod on her breast. She screamed and collapsed on the floor. Both stockmen picked her up and threw her into the pen. As more girls entered the pen, the earlier ones had to move towards the inner exit which was, of course, temporarily blocked with two short bars. Once all the girls were unloaded, the other end was blocked to prevent any attempt at escape, the shutters were dropped and the lorry drove off. Now our job started. Mr Jones and I approached the inner end of the crush pen and positioned ourselves by the chains which were ready. I ordered Sexpot to tell the wailing slaves to shut up, and move towards the back of the pen. The two stockmen then took a hose and washed them all down, removing the filth accumulated during their journey. The men enjoyed doing this, especially the squeals and screams as the powerful jet pounded at their naked and unprotected bodies. We let them drip for a few minutes before continuing. A stockman, at a nod from Mr Jones, withdrew the bars blocking the end of the chute, while the other grabbed the first girl by her hair and dragged her out and pushed her onto an industrial weighing machine. I called out the number on her tag and the weight shown as the other one then replaced the bars and came forward to help control the girl. I told Sexpot to order her to keep still with her legs apart and asked the stockman to show her the cattle prod. The girl was frightened and stayed still while we checked her over before taking her measurements. Career in White Slaving Mr Jones and I then ran a quick examination of the slave before he sang out the height, waist, breast measures for Sexpot to write them down. He and I then conferred making a decision as to grade. We also added some comments regarding her build, hair and general appearance. We had classed this one as brothel meat so she was pushed into the first pen and the next one was called. We processed the complete shipment in just over two hours and when we finished, we were bushed. We ended up with two auction candidates, three for G bay, two virgins and one pony, all but one of the rest were classed as brothel stock. The odd one left was possible G bay but she had been damaged by careless whipping, leaving several stripes. We agreed to make a special note of this for the finance department who could levy a fine as part of the settlement payment. All the slaves would be held here until the doctor, known laughingly as the 'vet' had checked them for pregnancy and STD infection. He would also examine for any other problems. The virgins would have their chastity belts removed and be checked for bad fitting. They would then have a belt of our own fitted which was designed to be worn for long periods. This would stay on until they were sold. Once the medical examination was over, the stockmen would transport the females to the holding pens . This was done using modified golf carts which were fitted with wire cages which could hold up to six in comfort or twelve as sardines. All the none brothel stock would be photographed for the catalogues on G bay and auction catalogue as soon as they reached their pens apart from any pony candidates who would be sent straight to the training ranch where they would be broken to harness and learn to respond to bit and bridle first via lunge reins and then by hitching them to carts. Leaving the stockmen to clean up, we headed back to my office. On the way I ordered Sexpot to go ahead and make us a drink. She was busy doing that as we entered the office. While we waited, Mr Jones and I discussed the intake. He told me that he was satisfied with my handling of the stock and suggested that I would handle the next lot on my own. He would stay in the background in case of problems, otherwise he would leave me to it. Assuming I managed, he would then leave me to handle all deliveries. Having settled the future, we checked Sexpot's notes and watched while she entered them into the database. The photographs would be attached to our records as soon as they were available. We could then release the records for general use. Mr Jones sent an internal text to the finance head explaining about the damaged slave. Naturally we had included the note on her record. Mr Jones would discuss her position with the stock room. If she would recover quickly enough, we would log her as G bay, otherwise she'd have to be brothel stock. Before he left to return to his own office, I took the opportunity to put an idea forward, could I be trained as a stockman? If so, I could help them move the slaves, particularly if there were any problems because I would also be carrying a prod and crop. "Ha" said Mr Jones, "You just want to be able to punish them, don't you?" "Well, perhaps not punish them exactly, I think it's more the idea that I could if I wanted to. Would it be possible?" "Despite your rotten excuse, I think it could be a good idea. Apart from learning how to thrash them, you'll also learn more useful things, like how to hold and control them, even how to tie them quickly and securely. Yes, I'll make arrangements for you to attend the next training session. Meanwhile the next load arrives tomorrow about eleven a.m. Probably two dozen but may be less. I will ring you when they arrive. I'd better get back to my desk. See you tomorrow." He left and I got back to my paperwork after telling Sexpot to get me some more tea. I then spend a pleasant half hour, sitting at my desk, drinking my, very well prepared, tea with Sexpot, kneeling under the desk with my penis in her mouth while she licked and sucked me to ejaculation. When I came, she took all my sperm in her mouth and waited until I ordered her to swallow. As she had behaved very well on the loading dock and especially in making my tea to my exacting standards, I ruffled her hair and rubbed her ears as a reward before ordering her to kneel at my side while I checked the photographs and records for the new intake before releasing them. With a feeling of a job well done, I called her to heel and went to get my lunch. I was feeling so content that I might buy a biscuit or two to feed Sexpot with. The next day I attended the delivery, handling all the details without any problems. As we finished up, Mr Jones said I could take over properly and he would arrange for delivery arrivals to be notified to me direct in future. He would, of course, be available if any problems arise. Routine set in. I qualified as a stockman and now was allowed to carry a prod and crop. Naturally I tried them on Sexpot with gratifying results. We received an average of four deliveries per week, so with them, my database entries, arranging auctions for the A1 category as well as reviewing and editing the G bay pages, my day was full. Like E bay, G bay were sold via a form of auction with bidding coming from all over the world. Each item was available for about a week and we set a useful minimum price at the start although bidding was usually brisk and good prices made. As I gained experience I was given more authority and could spend nearly half my time travelling around the sub-contractors. I even spent six weeks being involved with a capture unit actually in Bulgaria, learning first hand about the problems of obtaining our 'wild' stock. Being away so much, Sexpot spent a lot of time being confined in the stock pen. She appeared to be glad to see me when I returned, although I think it was more the idea of being able to roam around the building rather than my actual presence. However, I continued to use her regularly for sex and certainly she always appeared to be wet and willing. As she had obviously been a person of some education prior to capture, I began to wonder whether her training had brought out a level of raw sexual need to overlay her civilised self. She always appeared to be ready to enjoy sex and following my demands she always turned and licked me clean after I had taken her doggie style without further commands. However she had started an interesting habit. After licking me clean, she would stand, bend her knees and put her finger into her vagina, pulling out my sperm and eating it. When challenged, she said that she was 'cleaning herself ready for the next time and if she didn't, then she might drip it on my nice carpet! This was so bizarre that I let it go and stood amused watching her clean herself. This may have been partially my fault as before she was doing this, I often had passed a tissue and told her to wipe herself. Seeing as how she had started this rather dirty habit, sometimes I would tell her to bring herself to climax using her fingers or on one memorable occasion, I tied her hands behind her, sat down, crossed my legs and told her to climax using only my shoe! She did it in under 5 minutes, although I wasn't sure whether she was faking an orgasm or not. If so she was a very good actress! After a few months, when my uncle asked me if I wanted to accompany him on an inspection of our pony training facility, I agreed to join him. He suggested that we travel down on the Friday and spend the weekend at the ranch. I packed accordingly. Obviously Sexpot couldn't come with us but uncle laughingly said that I wouldn't suffer on that account. It took us about four hours to drive to the ranch and it was getting dark as we arrived so we were unable to see anything of the ranch buildings. We pulled up outside the house where we were greeted by the manager and his house staff who consisted of, naturally, half a dozen collared, naked female slaves complete with the ubiquitous ear tag. The manager's name was Albert and of course he didn't bother to introduce his slaves but detailed two to take our suitcases to our rooms and make themselves available for our needs. Chatting aimlessly, he led us into the house. "I assume you're hungry?" He said "I've arranged a cold table for tonight as I wasn't sure when you'd arrive but we can challenge the cook properly tomorrow." He took us through to the dining room where the table was laid ready. It may have been a cold meal but quality was not skimped nor was alcohol missing. I could see half a dozen bottles of wine on a side table as well as scotch, gin, vodka, brandy and port. We sat down, with slaves stationed by each of us to attend to our needs. Plates of beef and pork were placed in front of us and the slaves offered dishes of chopped courgette, lettuce, coleslaw and other vegetables for our choice. Within minutes, another slave entered with a plate of hot garlic bread. Our chat continued as we enjoyed the repast. My uncle explained why we had come. He and most of the senior executives of the organisation had no experience of pony-girls, in fact, most had no idea what they were. There was a standing instruction that girls who fitted a certain criteria should be allocated as pony-girls and were sent down to this ranch. After several meetings, it was decided that a representative, my uncle, would come to the ranch and investigate. He would find out what is a ponygirl and why they were becoming so popular. Based on his findings, the board would decide whether to expand that side of the business or drop it. Alfred said he hoped to prove to us that ponygirls were well worth encouraging and, if he succeeded in convincing us he hoped to put forward plans for a new area of trade, connected with them. We adjourned to the sitting room and our conversation turned into a briefing about the organisation of the ranch. This was made more palatable by slaves supplying glasses of a decent malt and access to female bodies with them kneeling by each of us, ready to fetch and carry. Albert explained what they did and how his ranch worked. First, he said, the girls coming here are selected for strength and build. Then they needed to be exercised and worked to increase muscle-power and stamina before any real training for their new role in life. As the name 'ponygirl' suggested, these slaves will be trained to act as a pony, albeit a two legged one, either to pull a cart or to be ridden, if they were strong enough. They will be fed, handled and housed as if they were real ponies, although, the actual housing requirements, vis: stables, stalls and corrals are naturally smaller than for real ponies. Likewise the carts are smaller and very similar to those designed for miniature ponies (those less than 36 inches tall). Obviously any harness, bridle or bits have to be specially designed to fit the human frame but the new ponygirl is always treated as an animal not a human. These are meant to be 24/7 ponies not submissives who 'play' at pony-girls for a few hours a week then revert back to girlfriend. Apparently at present they averaged two new entrants a week. When they first arrive, they already have their arms bound behind them. These are undone and they are rebound with their arms held together behind their backs, in a horizontal fashion. This keeps the arms up above the buttocks and is more comfortable for the long-term confinement of the limbs as well as providing more accessible area for chastisement. The girls are then taken into the smaller of the two stables which had a total of twenty stalls adjoining a large barn type structure which was used as an indoor training facility. As soon as they arrive, they are fitted with a bridle and harness which stays on until the basic training is finished. The bit is added when necessary as are reins. Their diet consists of porridge with chopped vegetables and fruit added. The new ponies would be trained on lunge reins in the barn until they could walk, trot and canter properly. When walking or trotting, they were expected to high-step when ordered. Obviously when travelling on uneven ground, high-stepping would be too dangerous especially when wearing hoof-boots which are specially made, heel-less and shaped to resemble horse's hooves complete with aluminium horse shoes fitted to the bottom. To build musculature and stamina they are worked on treadmills and a gadget that Albert called the 'roundabout' . He explained that this was a mechanically driven device set upright, to which long spars were mounted like a large rim-less wheel, about thirty feet across. Each spar had several metal rings fastened at intervals along it's length. The ponygirl would have her bridle fastened by a short chain to one of these rings and would then be forced to walk, trot or canter around in a circle without a handler. This meant that they could be made to walk several miles at any time. A camera was set to 'watch' just in case any collapsed or slipped. The speed of the pony varied depending upon which ring they were attached to. The further out, the slower the pace but greater the distance travelled. The wheel was set to rotate at the same steady speed. When it was judged that they had sufficient basic training, they would transfer to the larger stable. Here they learn to pull various carts ranging from a light sulky to a large waggonette either solo or as a member of a team of two, four or six ponies. They may also be worked within the ranch, hauling manure, straw or other items where needed. Sometimes, they are used to pull ploughs and harrows in our large vegetable gardens. If the pony appears strong enough, they could also be trained as riding ponies. Theoretically male ponies would make stronger workers, but the organisation has a policy only to take females. When it's felt that they are fully trained, they are sold via G bay and the cycle begins again. Our house staff were selected from new entrants who, we believed, would not really bulk up enough to be suitable ponies but would make useful slaves. The ranch is run by Albert together with six trainers, all male. Albert went on to talk about his ideas for expansion. He felt that there was a market for interested people to come and stay at the ranch for a holiday, during which they would be able to use the ponies as transport and, if wanted, sex. He told us that his research has shown there is a large number of potential pony owners who because of circumstances, can't provide a secure place to keep them. These people would be happy to pay us for the opportunity to handle ponygirls in a safe, secure environment. There could also be a small demand for us to provide pony training for their submissives, while they enjoyed the use of our ponies. By this time, we were becoming rather tired and we went off to our rooms for the night. Naturally the allocated slave accompanied us to our bed. In my case she was a big busted blonde who was adept with her mouth. As I was tired, I let her do all the work and bring me off. She swallowed my sperm and cleaned me before I lay back and went to sleep. The next morning I awoke to the noise and bustle of a busy ranch and a pressing need to hump someone. There was no sign of the blonde. Feeling decidedly annoyed, I showered, dressed and went downstairs to the dining room. To my surprise the blonde was there, waiting. When challenged, she told me that she had left my bed to ensure my breakfast would be ready as soon as I came down. I told her that she was a slave not a servant. No initiative was desired. I told her what to do and when. It was not her place to make decisions. As I was saying this, Albert came in and inquired what was my problem? I quickly explained what had happened and asked for the loan of a crop to punish her and a replacement slave who knows her place. He agreed, sending her off to fetch a crop for me. He went out to get a replacement for me. He quickly returned with a dark-haired beauty, assuring me that she was a well-trained slave who would give complete satisfaction. The blonde came back carrying the requested crop. I turned to Albert and said "I'm a trained stockman, so, if you don't mind. I'll punish her myself." "By all means, after all she wronged you. I'm only sorry that our training apparently failed." Turning to the blonde, I said "Do you understand why you are being punished?" Nodding, she said "Yes, master. I did something on my own initiative without your order." "Correct. Go over to the table, bend over the top, away from me and put your hands above your head." She went over to the table, put her hands up over her head and bent down until her body rested on the table top. "I am going to give you six strokes. Count them and thank me for each. Don't get confused or forget or I will start again." "Yes, master." I raised my hand and brought the crop down hard on her left buttock. "One, thank you master." The next struck her right buttock. She gasped and then said "Two, thank you master." I varied the speed, direction and strength of the remaining four strokes. When she had thanked me for the last one I said "You did well. Remember the lesson. Take the crop and return it to where you obtained it. Go now." Turning to the new slave I said "I require only two things from a slave, total and immediate obedience. You have been warned. Now get my breakfast: two rashers of bacon, lightly grilled, no rind, a poached egg, grilled tomato and mushrooms. Two slices of dry toast, preferably wholemeal and a pot of tea, not too strong, sufficient for three cups. Bring the tea first." She repeated the order, bowed and left the room. I sat down at the table and was joined by Albert and my uncle. We discussed the morning's itinerary while we waited. It was agreed that we would follow the course of training in our survey. That is, start at the small stable seeing the untrained girls, watching treadmill and roundabout work and lunging, then move to the larger stable with the harness and carriage training and the resulting fully trained pony. Probably finishing with actually driving a pony or team to experience the whole panorama of ponygirl training and use. We chatted aimlessly while we ate. I idly fed the new slave with some titbits while enjoying my breakfast. The change of slaves appeared to have been a success, the new one had produced my meal exactly as I'd specified. If she continues to satisfy, the week-end could turn out quite pleasant. The only down side was that I hadn't been able to use one for sex before breakfast, now I'd have to wait until lunch, at least. Then I heard Albert discussing the ponies; he mentioned that they were trained to satisfy the appetites of gentlemen where necessary and were often found to be so randy that they would rub up against anything male, being desperate for satisfaction. This sounded interesting and I suggested that we start our survey, which was agreed. As we left, Albert suggested that my new slave, who had no name but was referred to as 23 (all the slaves here were called by the last two digits on their ear tags), come with us. He thought that just being told about the training might be boring but if we used 23 to demonstrate the training, obviously drastically shortened, it might bring it more alive. We enthusiastically agree, 23, however, not being asked for her opinion. Albert led the way to the smaller of the two stables. When we entered we could see a series of partitions lining both sides, these made up the stalls, each four foot wide and six foot deep. The floors were covered with straw and, as we saw in close inspection, each had a lockable gate which also held a shelf containing a small shallow trough approximately a foot long, similar to a planter. This, we were told was for their food. A water dispenser was fastened to one wall. Career in White Slaving The trough was needed because, of course, every pony had her arms permanently strapped behind her back. Thus they had to eat by putting their faces into the trough and sucking or licking the food which consisted mainly of a sloppy porridge supplemented by chopped vegetables and fruit. It was fed twice a day. Most of the stalls were each occupied by a pony-girl, standing looking through the gate at the unexpected company. Several stuck their heads out and we were able to stroke them, which they apparently enjoyed. Albert then took us to an empty stall. He then explained to 23 what he was going to do, that is, she was to act as if she was a new ponygirl trainee for the purposes of the demonstration to us. He emphasised that she was not going to stay as a pony but pretend just for a few hours. We were surprised by his consideration and asked why he explained rather than just use her? He told us that the house slaves were scared that they might be sent back to the stable. If she thought that was happening, she wouldn't behave properly as she would consider being a ponygirl as punishment. Hence his special consideration, especially as training a replacement house slave was time consuming. After tying 23's arms behind her back, he explained that he wouldn't fit her with a harness but fastened a bridle around her head, and holding the bridle, opened the gate and led 23 into the stall, closing the gate on her. He then picked up a small bucket of meal, which had been brought by one of his handlers, and poured some into the trough through the feeding slot. He ordered 23 to eat. As she bent her head and tried to suck up the slop, Albert pointed out that this was her first time for a while and that it usually took several days before the ponies really got the hang of it. While we watched 23 getting into a terrible mess Albert went to the tack room and collected lunge reins and a long whip. When he returned he opened the stall gate and brought 23 out, leading her by the bridle. Before moving off, he grabbed a cloth and roughly wiped her face. Then asking us to follow he led 23 down the stable and into the arena centre. Quickly he fitted a bit to the bridle and, clipping the reins to the bridle, he paid them out across the floor then turned to us. "I'll just give her a couple of circuits to give you an idea, then, if you want, you can have a go, remembering that she is a demo only, so please not too heavy with the whip." Holding the reins in one hand and the whip in the other, he stepped back until the reins where reasonably tight then cracked the whip, calling "walk on." 23 started forward at a slow walk with Albert swivelling slowly to keep her in view. He cracked the whip again "high-step, you bitch. It's not so long ago that you were doing this. She started lifting her knees level with her hips. "that's better. Now, trot." while saying this he cracked the whip again as she broke into a trot, still high-stepping. Then, to us "as you can see, we don't normally use the whip on the pony, just the noise is usually enough, although if she doesn't behave then she'll get one of these!" as he spoke, he brought the whiplash down across her rear, cracking it at the same time, 23 jumped and squealed. "Bit unfair, really because she was behaving nicely. Just one of the problems of being a demo, I guess," He grinned "Anyone want to try it?" Naturally I volunteered, while uncle preferred to watch. I stepped forward as Albert pulled the reins and told 23 to stop. He handed me the reins, explaining how to hold them, then gave me the whip. "Remember, try to crack it above and behind her not on her." I nodded and Albert moved out of the circle. I shook the reins and called "walk on." 23 started to move as I tried an experimental crack of the whip. It sounded a little but nowhere as crisp as Albert's. She jumped and speeded up. "steady." I cried, juggling the reins. "Keep the reins relatively tight otherwise you have no control. If she starts coming into the centre, give her a crack on the nearside thigh. That'll shift her out again." called Albert. After a few circuits, I gave up in disgust, calling "whoa." to 23 and "help." to Albert. He came into the ring and collected the reins. Walking towards 23 who was stopped, wondering what she done, he told me that it takes a couple of weeks to really be able to work the lunging reins properly. When he reached 23 he patted her on the head, telling her that she had not done anything wrong, just the master was inexperienced. He removed the reins, bridle and bit then unfastened her arms then told her to join us again. She smiled with relief and came to my side as instructed. He led us back into the stable. As we walked through he explained the various stages for the trainees, those in the first few stalls were genuine newcomers, less than a week in stock. In nine to twelve were those entering their third week, the rest had been here for four to five weeks and were ready to go into the bigger stable for harness and cart training. He suggested that we sample the two-weekers, making sure we enter them 'doggie style', treating them like the animals they are becoming. Later, in the other stable we could try a fully trained pony. He assured us that we would certainly notice the difference. He did emphasise that we would be safer using 23 to clean us rather than the rookie pony-girls. Albert put the gear away while we took advantage of his offer. I certainly noticed the lack of cooperation, after using Sexpot, this pony really didn't want to be violated, understandable but not allowed. I slapped her breasts to steady her while I entered. As she struggled, I thrust quickly and came almost at once. I gave her a final slap on the rear as I left the stall. I then called 23 to clean me before zipping myself up. After we had enjoyed, or not, the ponies, Albert took us through to the larger stable. This was set up as forty stalls, twenty a side with a large tack room at one end and a workroom complete with an anvil and small coke burner. For safety when in use, the outside wall of the workshop was designed to open up to the fresh air. As necessary, these ponies would use the arena we've already seen but most of their training is outdoors on the trails, in a small corral next to the stable or on a particular device called 'the well worker'. Albert explained this particular device. It was built upon a well. A mechanism was designed to transfer the necessary up and down movement of a pump to a horizontal movement, similar to the roundabout but without any machine to drive it. It was driven by a horizontal gear system powered by the horizontal movement of a series of bars projecting from the central drum. These bars had three sets of rings set along the bar. Each circuit would pump a certain amount of water up into the main cisterns for use by the ranch. Pony girls were attached to one of the three sets of rings on each bar. Obviously the power necessary for the inner bars is more than the power used to move the outer sets. all the trained ponies were used to work this system. The more trained ponies would work the inner bars, the lesser the others. As a by-product, the water was pumped into the ranch tanks and the stable tanks. Also the ponies would develop their muscles ready for cart pulling. The usefulness of these operations were twofold. One: providing water to the complete ranch and two: exercising the ponies and building their muscles. As the corral was actually in use, Albert took us straight there so we could watch ponies in action. When we got to the corral, we stood near the gate, leaning on the rails. Inside one of the stockmen was driving a pony around the corral, steering by means of short reins and a whip. He walked at a slow pace, keeping the reins taut. Albert explained that they needed the reins taut otherwise the pony couldn't respond to his signals. We could see the harness more clearly here. It consisted of a wide belt fastened around the hips, with two thin straps between the legs and thicker ones crossing the stomach, over the shoulders and down the back. Albert explained that this layout ensured that the belt stayed located over the hip bones for maximum pulling power as the cart shafts were fastened to rings on either side of the belt. He preferred the lower straps to be a pair passing either side of the vulva. Apparently some just use one strap which would split the vulva and rub against the girl's clit when she was working. They felt that this helped to encourage the pony but Albert thought it wasted a lot of her energy and he'd found that the pony was always ready for sex even without the clit rubbing. He said he'd demonstrate this a little later for us. We watched the pony being worked for a while, then I asked what was the next stage. Albert explained that this would be hitching a small cart or sulky to the pony and the trainer would ride in this while steering her by means of the reins and whip. Once the pony was 'broken' to the cart, the remainder of the training is purely concerned with building up muscle and stamina. He asked us to wait a moment while he went into the stable. A few minutes later, Albert appeared, leading a pony-girl by the reins. He hitched her to a corral rail and went back into the stable. He reappeared, pulling a light cart (we later found that this was called a sulky, a small, lighter version of the kind used in real horse trotting racing). Leading the pony over towards the sulky, he backed her between the shafts and clipped her belt to them. After leading the reins over her shoulders and down to the seat, he turned to us and said "This pony is fully trained to harness so I can use her to demonstrate cart driving. If you would follow me around the back of the corral, we have laid out a small oval track. I'll take her around to show and then you can try, if you like." He shook the reins, cracked the whip and the pony-girl obediently leaned into the shafts and started to move the rig. We followed as he guided her around the corral and onto the track. Asking us to stay there and watch, he cracked the whip again and started off down the track, gaining speed all the time. When the rig completed a circuit, the pony-girl was running flat out with apparently no effort. He took her for another lap before slowing her down and stopping by us. The pony was breathing heavily but was not winded. "How about that?" he asked "Now you see the reason for pony-girls. Once trained, they can pull these carts with up to two well-built people at a very reasonable rate of travel. Get three or four on a track and you have a very exciting race, apart from the interesting views of naked female flesh in rapid motion. Enough to make a monk want to hump it. Now who wants to be first? I can take them around the track for a lap and then they can try to drive her themselves." Naturally I volunteered first and climbed onto the sulky. Albert showed me how he held the reins before we moved off. He shook the reins, calling "walk on." as the pony started, a little slower because of the extra weight. Once she was moving steadily, he cracked the whip over her head and told her to "trot." As she settled into the trot, he explained the whip to me. Apparently the proper way to use it was as a sound signal rather than a lash. A well trained pony, he said, was willing to pull and often enjoyed the feeling of speed. Because of this, the driver only needed to tell her how fast to go, always assuming that he is not pushing her unnecessarily fast too often. In these circumstances, a vocal command plus perhaps a shake of the reins will increase her speed without recourse to the whip. Once moving, a crack of the whip, NOT touching her, is sufficient to tell her to increase her speed. Actual lashing a pony is counter-productive and usually slowed them down. The only two occasions to use the whip, according to Albert, is when the pony physically disobeys commands or during a race when the pony is reaching her limit but more is required, short term. While he was talking he was also steering the pony around the track. This was necessary because they were trained to obey the reins and NOT to decide for themselves. Albert said that a well trained pony would run right into a tree, if the driver did not steer her around the obstacle, such was the insistence on obedience. When we reached the back straight, he pulled on the reins, calling "whoa." to bring the pony to a standstill. He then handed the reins to me, keeping the whip, adjusted my hold and told me to "take her away." "walk on." I called, shaking the reins. She moved off. Once she had steadied, I asked her "faster, now.". She increased her walk a little then I called out "trot." and shook the reins again. Albert assisted by cracking the whip. She moved smoothly into the trot and I concentrated on steering her around the bend and back into the home straight. Once we were straight, I used the reins to indicate more speed, calling "faster!". Another crack of the whip and she was running as we passed my uncle. I held at that until the next bend, admiring the pulsating muscles as her buttocks bounced in response to the thud of her hoof-boots as she raced forward. I pulled gently on the reins, calling to her "OK, now, slow down." She dropped to a trot as we entered the bend. I guided her around, none too smoothly and straightened her up for the back stretch. As we turned the bend into the home straight, Albert told me to pull up to give my uncle a try. I managed to stop the pony close to my uncle, turned to Albert and said "That was great. I can see now the fascination of pony ownership. Thanks." I climbed down from the cart, turned to my uncle and said "That's good fun. Are you going to try?" He shook his head and said "No, I'm too old for cart racing." while caressing the pony's breast, which she obviously enjoyed as her nipple hardened and she pushed her head into his shoulder. Albert leaned down from the cart and said "I'll take her back in that case. If you drift back into the stable, I'll show you another reason for having a pony-girl." He cracked the whip and moved off. We followed slowly behind. Uncle and I chatted together, the first time we'd had the opportunity during our stay. I asked him "What do you think of Albert and his organisation? I'm impressed. I didn't realise that using a woman as a horse would be so much fun. I also liked the idea of using the need to pump water as an exercise to develop muscle. So simple, it's brilliant!" Uncle nodded but said nothing, except "Here's Albert back again and he's leading another pony-girl. I wonder why, surely we've seen enough?" I turned to look. Indeed he was bringing out another girl, complete with harness, bridle and what looked like a feather sticking up from the bridle. He had a short lead apparently clipped to her bridle and she walked steadily behind, exactly as a horse would if being led. I also wondered why he was bringing her out. As Albert joined us, he said "I suppose you find it odd that I should bring out yet another pony? Well-trained ponies are rather peculiar in several ways. They appear to stop thinking like people but more like the horses they emulate. Not only are they docile and obedient, willing to work hard for a kind word or small treat." so saying, he fed a sugar lump to the girl, who sucked it out of his fingers, past the bit and chewed it with every sign of enjoyment. "but they act like horses in other ways. They like to herd together and they are always keen for a stallion. See this one? Check out her vagina." He leaned forward putting his fingers into her vulva, and holding them up for our inspection. "She's dripping with desire." He held his fingers up to her face, she licked her come off them. Turning to me, he held out the lead, saying "You're young and fit. Lead her away for about ten feet, stop and pull gently on the lead then wait and see." I took the lead, puzzled, turned and walked away from them, the pony followed without any urging. She was obviously quite used to being led like a horse. I stopped, then gave a short pull on the lead. She moved close to me and stopped. She leaned forward slightly, sniffing my shoulder, then pushed close ramming her legs either side of my leg. Before I knew what was happening she was 'riding' my thigh, trying to rub her clit on my trouser leg, obviously trying to climax. I looked at Albert in surprise to see both of them laughing at my confusion. "I told you they are always looking for a stallion. Unzip your trousers, she'll do the rest!" Albert spluttered. I stood still for a moment, then acting on his suggestion, I unzipped and pulled out my penis. As soon as she saw it, she stopped rubbing against my leg, shifted her position and attempted to get my penis inside herself. I just stood there for a second then decided that I'd better guide it in before she damaged me. As soon as I entered, she started to pulse to and fro, getting my penis deep inside her vagina. I could feel her muscles squeezing my rod as she worked it. She pushed quicker and quicker until I erupted and pour my load inside her. On this, she slowed, gripped my penis even harder trying to get all my sperm out as she also climaxed. She stopped moving and stood absolutely still as I emptied, then she pulled back and tried to drop to her knees. I slackened the lead, she knelt and took my penis into her mouth, not without difficulty as she was bitted. Once inside, she sucked and licked until I was clean, then released me and stood back. I looked in amazement as she stood quietly next to me as if nothing had happened. I queried Albert who said, laughing, "Best give her back or she'll jump you again!" I hurriedly went over to him and handed her lead back. Albert then signalled to a stablehand to take her away then he slapped me on the shoulders and said "Now you see the delight of having a pony. She could have been mounted half a dozen or more times like that before losing interest. Come on, lets get back to the house. You can shower and change before dinner." Shaking my head in disbelief, I followed them back to the house. What an odd business I was in, but I wouldn't swap it for the world! The End - for now!