This work is copyright 2000-2004 by Xaltatun of Acheron (A Pseudonym). It may be posted on the Internet to any free forum. It may be reformatted to match the forum's look and feel, and the forum editor may make minor spelling and grammer corrections. Otherwise it must be posted in its entirety, including these notices. It may not be sold, or included in any compilation that is sold, or posted on any forum that requires a fee for access, without my written permission. My permission will require payment, terms to be negotiated. For purposes of this notice, sites guarded by Adult Check or similar packages are considered pay sites. Posting on any site must include this copyright notice.
Adult Content Warning - this story contains adult themes, including non-consensual bondage/slavery and forced sexual acts. If you are under the lawful age for such materials (18 in most jurisdictions) or if you would find such material offensive, please go elsewhere.
Safety Warning. This story may contain descriptions of practices that are decidedly unsafe, either in general, or if performed by someone without adequate training. There are a number of good books available on safety in the BDSM scene. Most large cities, and some not so large ones, have organized BDSM groups that will usually welcome a newcomer. I'm not going to point out which practices are safe, and which aren't. Any practice is unsafe if performed by someone with inadequate training and experience, or if performed when not paying attention. Please think before you act. Don't make yourself a candidate for a Darwin award.
There are fifteen stories in the series entitled �Ponygirl Transformation.� At this point, I have no intention of writing additional stories in this series, although I thought that before Engineer burst on the scene. The stories are listed in order of the series timeline, although there are a few overlaps and several continuing characters. The first three set necessary background, the next three cover one formative event from three different viewpoints.
1. Ponygirl Finds Her Place
2. Kinder and Gentler
3. The Sorceress� Apprentice
4. Raw Material
5. Ponygirl by Choice
6. The Politics of Ponygirls
7. Ponygirls on Vacation
8. Bluebird Grows Up
9. Unregistered Ponygirls
10. Kidnapper
11. Suzie�s Ponygirl
12. Driver
13. Engineer (in preparation)
14. PonyGIRL?
15. Segue to Freehold (in preparation)
Acknowledgements. The setting and several of the characters are taken from a series of books by Sir Thomas (A pseudonym). �Adventures on the Hoof� and �Ponygirls, Inc� are both copyright by the Academy Club. Used by permission of Sir Thomas. These works are commercially available, and should not be on any web site on the internet, except for a short excerpt on Sir Jeff�s ponygirl web site.
Some of the characters and settings have been changed, either due to the different legal environment in the United States, my partially successful attempt to make the setting more consistent, and in one case a simple error of memory that got woven into the plot too deeply to back out by the time I discovered it.
In no case should you infer anything about the prior stories from this one. Sir Thomas has substantially different objectives for his stories.
There are a number of hidden references throughout to obscure (and some not so obscure) science fiction and fantasy stories. This is a game that some authors play. Should you care to look, have fun finding them.
Now on to the story...
Chapter 4. A real offer, at last.
Chapter 5. Morning at the apartment.
Chapter 15. Community Trainee.
Chapter 19. Your reality check is in the mail.
Chapter 20. Training Class, Part 2
Selma, out of work and very much out of sorts with her family, runs across an advertisement on the net for a ponygirl. She�s intrigued, and decides to follow up on it. So she signs the indenture. Then she discovers that it was for real.
I came to lying on my face. All kinds of different sensations. Tightness around my waist. Bands around my head. Hands and feet folded up behind me. No slack there. I felt several pairs of hands doing things to me. Too many sensations, too much going on to make the pieces fit.
Then I felt something shoved up my nose. Panic. Try to breath, girl. Everything began to drift away into a delicious lassitude. Nothing mattered any more. I heard a dull thud above me. An image of that door drifted through my mind. Ponygirls, Inc. Would there be ponyboys?
It seemed weird outside for a moment. Then the weirdness went away. Nice, safe box.
There were four people in the ready room. The operator on the orientation team was a tall brunette named Sandra. Her two partners, Brent and Ted, were there mostly for muscle when she needed it. They were waiting for the next piece of raw material to arrive. The fourth person, Dora, was Sandy�s daughter. Dora was 18, and it was time she began learning how to train ponies. She was a lobo-ra, one of the small people Selma had seen in the video.
The phone rang. Brent picked it up. He listened briefly. �OK team. It�s arrived.� The team continued lounging around the table.
Dora looked at them anxiously. �But shouldn�t we be going to unpack her?�
�We�ve got time. Finish your mash.�
Dora looked at her glass, and then took another mouthful. Mmmm. Being able to drink mash was a real treat. Being the daughter of a ponygirl trainer, she had heard of it all her life, but her mother had never brought any home. It was rich, however. She would have to take her time.
�But, what if she�s in there too long?�
�Honey, she�s only been in her box for a half hour, max. A couple of years ago, she would have been in that box for ten to twenty hours before delivery. We didn�t hurry, but we made time march then. We don�t have to hurry. She�ll still be out of her box and on her stand in less than an hour since they stunned her.�
�We still should have been there for her.� Stubbornly.
Ted said: �No we shouldn�t. Really. You may be one of the ones that can watch a teleport without having hysterics. The rest of us can�t. Being here in the ready room while they deliver her is actually more efficient. If we were waiting in the orientation room, they would have to deliver her to the warehouse, and then bring the box over by forklift. When we get a wave of arrivals, they do just that. But for singletons, it�s much easier to just be out of the room, and let them deliver her to us.�
�Oh.� She looked at her glass, and drained the last of the mash.
�Let�s go.� Everybody got up and went. Dora reached up and put her glass in the sink.
They trooped into the orientation room. Sandy lifted her daughter onto a table at the side of the room.
�You can see everything from there, honey. You�ll be out of the way; we don�t use that table unless we are processing several at once.�
Ted and Brent moved over to unlock the box. Sandy checked the manifest, and looked at the items neatly laid out on the table, in the order she would be using them. Everything was there. Ted and Brent began to unhook Selma from her webbing. Sandy moved over to remove the breathing apparatus. This was a critical point. If she had trouble breathing, they would have to move fast. She wouldn�t have any trouble, however. The red light was off. That meant she was breathing under her own power. If the red light had been on, the clever little box would have been pushing air into her lungs, and sucking it out.
The new pony continued to breathe normally when Sandy unhooked the tube from her nose. In a few breaths, the sleepy gas began to leave her bloodstream. She would be awake in a couple of minutes. They continued to unhook the straps. Finally, they were done. She was loose in the box.
Brent and Ted picked her up, swung her upright and carried her over to the stand. Then the set her down on her knees as Sandy guided the rings in the back of her belt over the pole in the middle. Sandy unhooked the rod holding her feet to the belt, and then Ted and Brent grabbed an ankle each, brought them back and attached them to the platform with short chains. The newest pony was now secured to her display platform. She wasn�t going anywhere, at least under her own power.
Sandy moved in front of the girl, and removed her blindfold. This was the moment of truth. A pair of wary blue eyes looked out at her. Sandy patted her on the arm, and said �You�re doing fine, honey.�
Next was the gag. The girl licked her lips.
�You�ve got me on my display stand, don�t you?�
�Yes, we do. You were told we don�t waste any time. Are you thirsty? Do you want some water?�
�Yes, please.�
Sandy got a glass of water, and let Selma suck it up through a straw. She drank about half of it, and then stopped.
�Enough?�
Selma nodded. �You�re going to turn me into a ponygirl?� She looked like she was about to cry.
Sandy patted her again. �Yes, we are. You�ll make a fine ponygirl.�
�We�ve got a few things to do here,� she said in a more businesslike tone. �Most of them are going to hurt. Its all part of the procedure, all of our new ponies go through it. OK?�
Selma nodded doubtfully.
Sandy unhooked a long rod with a handle from her belt. �Can you guess what this is?�
�That�s a prod, isn�t it?�
�Good girl. Now, I�m going to hurt you with it. That�s so you will know what it feels like.�
Selma looked scared.
�Don�t be afraid. We use this so you will learn what to do, and what not to do. You don�t need to fear it. We won�t use it on you without a reason.�
Sandy turned it to level 1, and brushed it against the pony�s right breast.
�Ouch, that hurt!�
�It�s supposed to. You need to know what it feels like. Now, this is level two.� She reset the prod, and touched her thigh. Selma tilted back her head and screamed. She began to shake.
Sandy shut off the prod, and hooked it back on her belt. Then she wrapped her arm around Selma and held her for a moment. �There, there, it�s all right. You�re doing well.�
Selma calmed down a bit.
�Now, you know what a level two prod feels like, don�t you?�
Selma nodded; a real serious look on her face.
�You were a good girl to take it like that. Now, I�m going to give you an option. You need to be gagged. You can be gagged now, or you can be gagged in a few minutes, as the last step of prepping you. This is a bit of a luxury. After I gag you, you won�t be allowed to speak ever again. Some of the next things I do to you will hurt. If you promise not to make a fuss, we can talk while I finish. If you do make a fuss, I will zap you on level two before I gag you. Your choice.�
�I�d rather have a few last words, if it�s ok.�
�Good girl. The next procedure is to remove your clothes. �
Selma looked shocked. �Honey, livestock doesn�t wear clothes. You know that.�
She picked up a device, and showed it to Selma. �This is a dressmaker�s power sheer. Hold still so I don�t knick you.�
�But, but, you�ll ruin my clothes.�
�Of course, honey. We�re not running a second hand shop here.�
For some reason, this struck Selma as excruciatingly funny. She howled with laughter. Sandy settled her down with a quick hug, and a pat on the shoulder. Selma took a long, shuddering breath and let it out. �I needed that.�
�I know you did, honey. You�ll do just fine.�
She tugged the top of her skirt and pantyhose from under the leather belt. Then she turned on the sheers. She started at the bottom, and cut the pantyhose around the ankle cuffs. The bottom came off of the foot, soon to be a hoof, just fine. Then she ran the sheers up Selma�s leg, taking her skirt and panties when she came to them. She did the same on the other foot, and Selma was now completely nude below the waist.
She took the blouse out from under the belt, and removed it, and her bra, in four neat cuts. Two up the sides, and two across the shoulders.
�Jewelry next, dear.� She held up a pair of metal clippers. Shortly, her necklace and charm bracelet were no more.
�Hold still while I take out your earrings, please.� Selma tried to hold still while Sandy removed two pairs of earrings from her ears. Sandy tossed them in the trash, with the rest of the clothing.
�Now, this next thing is going to hurt. I�m going to put your ID disks in your ears.�
�ID disks?�
�Well, yes. All well dressed livestock wear ID tags. These have numbers issued by the consortium. Ponygirls have theirs in their ears. They look cute.�
�I didn�t realize you were so ... thorough.�
�Well, of course we are. We�ve been doing this for years. Now, this stuff is antiseptic. I smear some on your ears, so.�
�This next is going to hurt like hell. I�m going to punch a hole in each ear, up by the cartilage. This is a bit higher than regular earrings, but then, these aren�t fashion items.�
She took the next item off the table, and showed it to the new pony. �This is the punch.�
She held the punch up to the left ear, positioned it, and squeezed the handle. Selma drew a deep breath through clenched teeth. The punch drove a starter hole, and then followed it with a larger diameter rod that left a hole a full sixteenth of an inch in diameter.
Sandy held up a little disk and a hollow rod. �Now, this is one of your ID disks. We put the shaft in it, like so, and we put it in your ear, like so. Then we take this back plate and put it on the other side of the shaft, like so. Finally, we use this tool to crimp it in place.�
�Now, that wasn�t so bad, was it? You took that really well. I�m proud of you. Now for the other ear.�
Sandy did the other ear. Selma drew another ragged breath as the punch clamped down.
�All done with the tags. Those posts are hollow for a reason. We can put earrings in them. Or bells. I�m going to put a pair of little pearl earrings in the disks to make you look nice.� She held up a pair of earrings, and then put them in the center of the ID disks.
�Almost done. Just a couple more things. I�m going to pierce your breasts, and put rings in them. This will hurt less than you think; I�m going to use a topical anesthetic.�
Selma looked down as Sandy spread a blue paste over her nipples, and then rubbed it in with a swab. The area went numb. Sandy took out another tool. �This is a pattern, and a piercing needle. We put the pattern over your breast, like so, and then push the needle in, like so. Now, we follow it with a bar, like so. And now, the rest of the ring fits here, and we do a pressure weld, like so. That looks good, if I do say so.�
�Now, for the other breast.� She worked for a minute, and the other breast was ringed just like the first. �You�ve been such a cooperative little darling; I�m going to let you look at yourself in a mirror. First, let�s just hang a couple of bells on those rings.�
She picked up a couple of little open bells, and clipped them to the rings. Then she wheeled the stand over to a full-length mirror on one wall. �Well, how do you like you?�
Selma: I looked at myself in the mirror. I saw a naked girl on her knees, with a pole showing between her legs. Her arms were pulled behind her. She was wearing a leather belt. I had to say, the rings and bells in her nipples looked cute. There was a flash of silver from her ears.
�There�s something missing. The girls in the pictures had their heads tilted back.�
�You�re an observant little filly. We�ll take care of that right now.� She walked over to the equipment table, and picked up the harness and ball gag. �Your talk time is over. Open wide.�
Selma�s eyes opened wide as she stared at the red ball. Then she opened her mouth. �Good girl. I�m so proud of you.� Sandy popped the ball into her mouth, and then pulled the straps tight. She stepped back to examine her handwork. Her handiwork looked back with big blue eyes. They looked appealing over the red of the ball gag in her mouth. That look would bring her price up substantially, if they could keep it through training.
�One last thing.� She picked up the headrest, and bolted it to the top of the pole in the stand. �Tilt your head back onto the rest.� Selma tilted her head, and Sandra secured the harness to the headrest with another bolt. �All done. You were a pleasure to work on.�
Sandy picked up a blanket, threw it over Selma, and wheeled the stand out the door. The rest of the crew followed.
�Mom, can I have another glass of mash?�
�You like that stuff, don�t you?�
�It�s scrumptious.�
�Well, ok, but... You�ll have to do an extra exercise session tonight, or else skip desert.�
�Aw, mom.� Sandy looked at her daughter. �Well, all right.�
�Just a half glass. You probably won�t be able to drink any more. It really is rich.�
�Mom, I�ve been wondering. Why did you tell that pony that she would never be able to talk? I know I�ve heard both Rocky and BeLively talk while we were grooming them.�
�Well, Rocky is owned by a community member, and BeLively is a community trainee. The rules are that they have to be kept in shape to talk. For Rocky, it�s in case her owner wants to use her for something else, like a French maid. In BeLively�s case, it�s to make it a bit easier to come out at the end of her two years. But this pony will be auctioned off, and it�s really her owner�s call. Remember that ponies don�t have choices. Never tell one something that might happen. Only tell them something that will definitely happen. Or better yet, don�t tell them at all, until it happens. That will keep them on track with being a pony.�
Down the hall, a lobo-ra rode her ponygirl up to the stand and hitched it up. The ponygirl pulled it away, as Selma listened to the Clip - Clop of horseshoes on the stone corridors.
�Tom,� Jenny said, �good work on your pony in cell 314. She was sold early, so the cell is available. There should be a new girl coming from orientation shortly. You know the drill; check to make sure everything has been delivered. Good luck on this one.�
�Good luck?� Tom was puzzled. �Why are we getting one now? The regular intake isn�t for a couple more weeks.�
�She�s from the new Internet recruiting program. She knows she�s going to become a pony slave, and agreed to it. I�m not certain how that will affect the program.�
�Shouldn�t make that much difference. Whatever she expected, she won�t have expected this, so she should go through the usual stages. Community trainees know what to expect, and it doesn�t affect things. I�ll just roll with it.�
�I expect you�re right,� Jenny shuddered delicately. Her two years as a community trainee hadn�t been enjoyable.
Training team 31 left the ready room to begin their day�s work training their ponygirls.
Dana pulled Foggy Morn around the corner into the row of cells, paying particular attention to guiding her wide. This was the first time she had ridden a ponygirl while the �girl was pulling something, and she was still getting used to the maneuvers required. Foggy Morn was still getting used to them as well; being ridden and pulling at the same time was confusing her slightly. All things considered, Dana thought she was adapting quite well.
�Hey, Tom,� she called. �Open the door for us, will you?�
Tom opened the door to cell 314, and folded it back so that the corridor was clear. Dana studied the approach for a moment, and then expertly guided Foggy Morn along the invisible line she had drawn in her mind�s eye. Foggy hesitated a moment; she knew 314 wasn�t her cell. Then she followed Dana�s expert manipulation of her reins, her knee signals and weight shifts, and pulled the covered platform with the new ponygirl who had been Selma into the cell.
Tom studied the hitch for a moment, and then unhooked it at both ends. �Hey, Dana, where do you want this?�
�Hang it on Foggy�s wall next to the saddle. I may use it again during the intake week.�
CLANG! Tom closed the door to cell 314 as he followed Dana and Foggy to her cell. �Sit,� Dana commanded. Foggy sat on her heels as Dana swung out of the saddle. �Up.� Foggy came back up to a stand, and Tom unbuckled the saddle and saddle pad and hung them on the wall.
�To the stand.� Foggy marched over to her display stand, and positioned herself so that she was precisely in front of the pole. Tom took hold of the rings on the back of her bustier. �Down.� Foggy brought herself down to a squat as Tom guided the rings onto the pole. �Kneel.� Foggy brought her legs back so she was kneeling. Tom clipped her ankles to the back of the stand, and then bolted the headrest to the top. Foggy gratefully let her head slump back onto the rest.
He then took out her bit. �Open wide.� She opened her mouth wide, and he popped the ball gag into it, and fastened it to her bridle.
�She�s really well trained,� Dana commented.
�I should certainly hope so,� Tom said. �It�s about time she got her new owner.�
The door went CLANG as they left the cell.
The door to cell 314 opened silently on well oiled hinges. Tom walked to the front of the covered object in the center of the cell as Jeff stood off to the side. Lucy pulled the cell door closed with a CLANG, and walked behind the stand with a definite tap, tap of her five-inch heels. While she could walk silently if she chose, noise at this point was a calculated part of the procedure. The new ponygirl should be tracking Lucy, and not have any idea that the two men existed - yet. Lucy grabbed the blanket, and pulled it off with a flourish.
Tom and the girl formerly known as Selma stared at each other in shocked recognition. Or rather, it would have been shocked recognition if either of them had ever seen each other before, which they hadn�t. The instant passed, but Tom remained looking into the new girl�s eyes. �Hey Tom,� Jeff drawled, �You�re supposed to be training her, not memorizing her.�
Tom started. �There�s a lot to memorize,� he said, shakily.
�Pony, I�m your primary trainer.� He looked at the other two trainers. �Let�s get her boots on first.� Each one grabbed hold of a leg and unclipped the restraints. Although the pony boots were open down the back, it took some work to get her feet into them. Once they were settled, they zipped the boots up to mid-thigh, and then laced them up on top of the zipper.
Lucy unclipped her bridle from the headrest, and then dismounted the rest. Then she and Jeff grabbed the girl, hoisted her free of the pole and set her down on her feet with a definite thump as the horseshoes attached to the soles hit the solid stone floor of the cell.
Tom took his prod off his belt and flipped it in his hand a couple of times. �You remember this from orientation, right, pony?� he asked.
She stared at the prod and nodded fearfully.
�So, let�s start training you in your first pony behavior. Have you ever seen those circus acts where someone asks a horse questions, and it taps its hoof for yes or no?�
�Muumph.�
�Did I just hear you try to talk?� he said as he flipped the prod back into his hand.
She shook her head wildly.
�So, tap your right hoof.�
Tap.
�Now do it twice.�
Tap. Tap.
�Good girl. Now three times.�
Tap. Tap. Tap.
�Good girl. Now do it again. However many times your hoof wants.�
Tap. Tap.
�Good girl. Again.�
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He kept it up a few more times, and then started asking simple yes - no questions. After a while, it became obvious that she was tapping twice for yes, and three times for no. In the middle of this, she quit nodding and shaking her head.
�Good girl,� he exclaimed happily. �You�ve learned your first pony behavior perfectly!� He reached over and took out her gag. �How do you like that?�
Tap. Tap.
He held out a sugar cube in front of her. She stared at it a moment, and then stuck out her tongue to take it from his fingers. She balanced it momentarily, and then swallowed it.
�Good girl. Open wide.� She looked at the gag. Her mouth stayed stubbornly shut.
ZZZZ. YYYEEEEOOOWWWW! Lucy hit her with a level two prod.
�Again?�
Tap. Tap. Tap. She opened her mouth and Tom put the gag back in.
�You were a real good girl up until that last little bit of resistance. Turn around. See that chair?�
Tap. Tap.
�Go sit down on it.�
She walked over and looked at it curiously. Up close, it looked like a wooden toilet, complete with bowl and water. She�d never seen a toilet with arms, however. Or seen one with legs, for that matter. There was a device sticking out of the front. She turned around and sat.
�It really is a toilet. If you need to go, just let loose.�
Jeff and Lucy moved up on either side. First, they tied her legs to the chair legs, leaving enough slack to keep the blood flowing, but not enough for her to move her legs. Then they unclipped her hands from behind her, and tied them to the chair arms. They took off the belt and strapped her torso to the back of the chair. When they were done, they left.
While they did this, Tom attached a pair of reins from her bridle to hooks on the back wall, leaving about an inch of slack.
�Next thing is to feed you.� He took a device that looked like a funnel with a horizontal tail from a shelf. �This is called the funnel. It goes in here.� He stuck the tail into a hole in her ball gag, and then strapped the upper part of the funnel to rings on her bridle. Her eyes almost crossed as she looked at it.
He took a bottle of white goop from the shelf. �This is called mash. It�s a carefully compounded mixture of everything a ponygirl needs to stay healthy for years. It�s kind of bland, but the staff changes the taste regularly. We use it for snacks when we�re too busy to eat.�
He put it back, and picked up another bottle of brown goop. �Now, this is the same stuff, except that it tastes truly awful. In fact, it tastes as bad as we can make it. It�s the punishment for talking. You talk; you get fed this stuff. We call it slop.
�I didn�t really ignore your little break earlier. You were warned in orientation about talking, so you get to find out what slop tastes like.� He poured an ounce or so into the funnel, and then pushed the piston at the bottom, forcing it into her mouth. She went rigid as the evil taste overwhelmed her senses for a moment, eyes wide and staring.
�Don�t like that, do you?�
Tap. Tap. Tap.
�Well, you�re not supposed to.� She swallowed frantically. He pushed the piston again. �Let�s get all of it out and into you. She swallowed again, tears in her eyes.
�The taste doesn�t wash out with saliva. The only thing that will cut it is mash.� He filled the funnel with mash, and then pushed the piston again a couple of times. She relaxed. �Wash it around, and then swallow. Tastes good, doesn�t it?�
Tap. Tap.
�You�ve got fifteen minutes to finish your mash. There�s a trick to sucking it down without my having to push it into your mouth. You�ll get the hang of it eventually.� He pushed the door switch as he walked out without a backward glance. The door rose gracefully from the floor, allowing Selma to see herself sitting naked and bound in a chair, with a funnel stuck on her face.
The door sank into the floor, disclosing a nude, bound girl with an empty funnel attached to her face. �You finished it all. Good girl.� Tom poured a couple of ounces of water into the funnel. �Just wash it down, now. That�s a good pony.�
She finished sucking down the water, and looked at him expectantly. He removed the funnel and put it aside.
�You�re not going to like what happens next. This isn�t really a punishment, even though you rebelled a bit back there. This first treatment is to soften you up a bit, give you some motivation for going with the program. After this first treatment, we use this as the punishment for rebellion. You�ll be here for eighty hours. If you try to sleep, you�ll get a shock. Like this.�
He turned a switch on the wall, and a display lit showing 80:00 in big, red letters. He shoved her head forward. OUCH! She flinched. He swung a small stop behind her head and checked the slack on the reins. Good, there was just about an inch before the shock triggered.
She stared wide-eyed at the readout.
�You may not be here for eighty hours. I�ll let you out when I think you�re ready to cooperate fully. Goodbye until then.�
He walked out, and the door rose out of the floor, leaving a ponygirl staring at her image in the mirror on the back of the door. She could see the readout in the corner of her eye. It said 79:59. Then after a while, it changed to 79:58. It was going to be a long time.
Tom stood back from the trotting booth, admiring his favorite novice ponygirl. She was shaping up nicely. She stood placidly in the booth, waiting for it to signal her to begin her exercise regime.
She held her head tilted back, looking at the mirror and indicators set in the wall in front of her, above the level of her head. The top straps of her black leather bridle crossed just above and between her eyes; one strap going vertically over the top of her head, the other strap going all the way around and meeting the first strap in the back. From the juncture, a pair of straps came down, one on each side of her nose, to rings on each side of her mouth. Straps led from each ring under her chin and around the back of her head, where they attached to the strap coming down from her crown.
The two rings also held a bit fixed between her teeth, and a pair of reins that ran behind her to fastenings in the back wall of the trotting booth. Straps ran up from the rings, beside her eyes, over the horizontal strap and crossed at the crown of her head. These straps held a pair of leather blinders in place, effectively insuring that she couldn�t see out of the side of the trotting booth.
He frowned slightly as he looked at her cropped blond hair. It had grown out a bit in the last two weeks, and was threatening to become a tangled mess. None of the training team had been able to do anything with it during grooming. Something was going to have to be done, since long hair was definitely a sales point. Even if she was the best racer in the world, not having thick, waist length hair would lose her enough conformation points to make her non-competitive.
Her black leather collar fit her neck snugly, but not tightly. It was much higher in front than in back, which was the entire reason she held her head back at that angle. He really didn�t think it did much for her in this posture, but it certainly added to her attractiveness when she was on her stand.
Her black leather bustier pulled her waist in to a classic hourglass shape. The bustier rode just above her hips and below her breasts, defining the area in bold relief. Straps from the sides of the booth buckled to the sides of the garment, and held her stationary in the device. She was beginning to adapt to having to breathe with her chest rather than her abdomen.
Her arms were encased in shoulder length black leather gloves. The wrists were attached to the shoulders, and her elbows were clipped to rings on the bustier. The gloves, with their encased hands, came out at right angles to the wrist. They were called puppy paws, and they were the essence of cute when she was on her stand.
Although he couldn�t see it from his angle, he knew her lower legs were encased in high-heeled pony boots that ended in horseshoes on the front part, and had five-inch stiletto heels on the back. He had occasionally wondered if the heels were really necessary; she certainly didn�t seem to depend on them at all when she was running.
Her tail came out from behind her at a jaunty angle. He wished, not for the first time, that it was a real tail.
Well, he thought. Enough woolgathering. Time to start the session. He pressed �start� on his remote, and watched the booth twitch her reins as the speakers said, �Giddap, pony.�
She whinnied and moved smoothly into a march step, forelegs coming up precisely horizontal, lower legs held precisely vertical through the entire maneuver. The position indicators showed a clear green; she was exactly on step. After a minute, the machine shook the reins again and said: �trot.� She whinnied and moved into the new gait without missing a beat.
�You�re doing quite well with her, Tom,� said a voice behind him. He jumped slightly and spun around.
�Alice, you startled me,� he accused.
�Well, I intended to,� she smiled. �Take a break, we need to talk.�
�Tom,� she asked as they settled at a table in the ready room, �what do you think of her sale potential?�
�After just two weeks? It�s simply too early. She�s showing more drive than usual, but that hair could be a real problem. I�ve got no idea what to do about it, or even how it happens.�
�How is easy. She�s got some African ancestry somewhere in her family tree. Kinky hair is common in many of those genetic groups. That doesn�t matter to us; our ponies aren�t exactly pedigreed stock. We�re going to add a genetic check to the recruiting requirements. What to do about her is harder.�
�Couldn�t your people simply zap the gene?�
�Maybe. The Thunderbolt says it�s an interesting problem. Pretty Lemon asked me if I was going to take the heat for unauthorized and untested changes. Leo thinks that if we could improve hair overall it would be a competitive advantage, but he wants to see a plan. Marketing is thinking Hollywood, and Leo is intrigued by the idea.�
�In other words, don�t hold my breath.�
�Exactly.�
�I�ve got one other question,� Alice continued. �You�re in love with her, aren�t you?�
Tom twitched again. �Well, yes. I know I shouldn�t be, but I don�t know what to do about that, either,� he said defensively.
�I checked the surveillance record of the first meeting, and then did some more checking. As far as I can tell, you two belong together. Unfortunately, my opinion in the matter means exactly nothing.�
Tom relaxed. He knew that having the Sorceress on his side was a lot better than otherwise. �I could buy her for myself,� he said, a bit doubtfully.
�With what? Except for that hair, she�s in the 200,000 to 400,000 thousand dollar range. You not only don�t have that kind of money, you don�t have the income to maintain a ponygirl even if you do win a Pick of the Herd Lottery choice.�
�Yeah. I know. I just don�t know what to do about it.�
�Well, there are some options. First, the Board is about to authorize a Senior Trainer job category. They want me to clone my training abilities. You�re one of my best students, so you�d get the title right away. That�s enough of a salary jump so you could afford to maintain her.�
�That�s the best news I�ve heard in a while!� he said excitedly. Then he shrugged. �It still doesn�t let me buy her, though.�
�Probably not, if we fix her hair. If we don�t, she�s probably not only not salable, but nobody inside would want her, either. We may have to destroy her.�
I stared at her in shock. �You can�t be serious!�
�I wish I wasn�t. If we�d caught the problem earlier, we�d never have recruited her. Next year, we may be able to fix the hair so she would be salable. Right now, it�s either find an owner that wants her, hair and all, or do something else. Her background shows her as a clerical worker with a bit more facility with computers than normal. We�ve got enough clerical workers, and she�s not good enough with the computers to join Cloudburst and that crew. The work pool is a possibility, but that�s still being organized. There�s no guarantee we could get it set up in time, and the hair would still be a problem with the conservatives. The Thunderbolt has a suggestion, but the board is balking.�
�Oh? What could make our Board of Directors balk? They can�t have suddenly developed a conscience, can they?�
�Exactly. The Thunderbolt suggested using her for testing genetic changes. It�s a real problem. With the best research, modeling and whatnot, eventually someone has got to have the change applied so she can see what happens. Hair is easy compared with some of the things on the wish list.�
�Oh, my God. You want to turn her into a lab rat?� Tom looked profoundly shocked by the idea.
�Now, that would be an idea,� Alice mused aloud. �Lab rat should be easier than toad.�
She chuckled. �You should see the look on your face, Tom. You really are taken with her, aren�t you?�
He gasped weakly. �Yes. Damn you.�
�Well, let�s go talk to her.�
We got up and walked back past the empty cells, waiting for the new intake that would be coming in the next week.
By the time they got back, Lucy had moved her from the trotting booth back to her stand, and had left her happily sucking down her mash ration. As usual, Tom stopped to admire her a moment. She looked so absolutely darling. The picture would have been perfect if there had been a hand holding the funnel.
We waited for her to finish, and then he unhooked the funnel. Alice stepped up to the stand and looked down at her. �Hi, pony. Do you know who I am?�
Tap. Tap. Tap.
�I guess we haven�t been introduced, at that. I�m Alice, occasionally known as the Sorceress. I�m the only person who can let you speak.�
Her eyes went wide and then she looked at Tom.
�She�s right, kid. If she tells you to talk, you talk. No slop. When she tells you to stop, you stop.�
Alice reached down and took out the gag.
�We�ve got a problem, and I�ve got a proposition. You can turn it down if you want. The problem is your hair.�
The pony looked like she wanted to cry. �I know. It�s just awful; I have to wear it short, and it�s ugly.�
�Well, it also makes you not very salable. That puts us in a bit of a quandary. I suppose you�ve noticed that you�re conditioning exercises are going better than you could possibly expect?�
�They sure are. I assume you�re putting steroids in my mash?�
�No, it�s completely genetic changes. We can do things like that. What we don�t have is a program for hair changes. What we need is someone to experiment on.�
She turned pale. �You mean, like cut me up?�
Alice smiled. �No, not like that. Our geneticist would make changes, and then observe the results. Then make more changes, and so forth. She�s still working on the program; it will take a while. The upside is that it should be reasonably safe for you; very few things can go wrong with hair. I can�t say that about some of the other programs we�ve got on the books. Sooner or later, she�s going to slip up, or Murphy is going to take a hand, and she�ll do something to you that she can�t recover from.�
�What happens if I say no?�
�Good question. If we can�t sell you, the conservatives want you destroyed.�
She turned pale again and gulped.
�I don�t like it either, but I can�t give you any guarantees. Or any explanations, for that matter.�
She took a deep breath and let it out. �And I thought the Mafiosi were only in my mother�s family. How long do I have to think about this?�
�Not at all. When we quit talking, your gag goes back in, and you�re back to being a ponygirl. Ponygirls don�t think about the future. They don�t think about anything, actually, they just do what they�re trained to do. You need to make up your mind now.�
�What�ll it feel like?�
�The hair program? You probably won�t notice a thing until your hair grows out. Then you�ll have the oddest looking hair imaginable as they test variations. Other programs? It depends on the program.�
�If I agree, can I keep Tom as my trainer after I finish training?�
�We�ll see. If I can swing it, you can. He wants you as much as you want him.�
�OK. Let�s do it.�
�Don�t expect changes right away, the ThunderBolt doesn�t need an experimental subject yet.
�Well,� Alice continued. �Open up. Talk time is over for you.�
She obediently opened her mouth, and Alice installed the ball gag.
The blanket covered form they�d wheeled into the cell across the way twitched slightly from time to time. I lay back on my stand and wondered idly what she would look like when they took the blanket off. She�d probably have luxurious hair. The pony in the cell to her right had a beautiful fall of platinum blond hair, and the one that had been in the cell on her left was a stunning brunette. The lady with the red hair had promised me I�d have beautiful hair too, or had she? I couldn�t really remember what she�d said, and it didn�t really matter. Tom was happy with me, and that was all I cared about. I wanted to be his pony, now and forever.
Steps sounded from the corridor to my left. Was that Tom and Lucy? They came into sight. One of the men was Tom. I whinnied to him. He waved at me, and then they opened the door and trooped in.
�Hi, pony,� Tom said. �It�s time for some sex training. How�d you like that?�
Sex? Tap, tap. I whinnied to him as I felt myself heat up. The dildo in my sex suddenly felt huge.
�You�re ready, aren�t you?� he asked. I could see the bulge in his pants. He was ready too. I whinnied at him. I wanted him NOW!
He came over holding a ring with a short strap on each side. �Open up, now, pony,� he said. I relaxed my mouth as he took the ball gag out. �Wider.� I opened wider, and he popped the ring in, just behind my teeth. I felt him attach the straps to my bridle.
Lucy loomed up behind me as she pulled the bolt out of the headrest and released my ass plug from its holder. �Up.� I rose up on the stand.
�March over here,� Tom said. Over here was a pair of parallel bars that I hadn�t used before. I knew what they were for, of course. I�d seen them used in the cells across the way. In a way, I wish I hadn�t. Watching one of the other ponies get it got me horny and frustrated. He marched me over to stand just beyond one end of the bars. �Bend over, steady there, girl.� I bent over as he held me by one of the rings on my bustier so I didn�t fall. Lucy snapped leather straps from the sides of the bars to rings on my bustier, and then Tom let go. I was suspended in the air, back horizontal, hooves planted on the ground. Tom swatted the insides of my thighs lightly. I moved my hooves farther apart.
I felt him press on my dildo. There was a stirring in my loins as he collapsed the thing, and then slid it out. He did the same for my ass plug. It was the first time I�d felt empty since grooming that morning. My sex and my ass wanted something in them, and they wanted it now. I whinnied and stomped my hoof.
�Sounds like she really wants a stallion,� the other man said.
�Yep, she�s ready, Leo,� Tom replied.
The other guy, Leo, was it, came around in front. He�d taken off his pants. Wow, was he ready to go! He moved directly in front of me. It didn�t look like he needed any coaxing, but whatever the boss wanted, the boss gets. I stuck out my tongue to get a taste of his tool, and then began caressing it, up and down. In a moment, he moved closer to me, and I took it into my mouth. Ummmm. Tasted like every other cock I�d ever sucked, but that didn�t make much difference. The guys liked it, so I did it. It warmed them up, and gave me time to warm up. Sex was sex.
He pulled out suddenly, and walked around back. I felt him touch my lips, and then WHAM!
Leo kept at it as I built up and up. Eventually, I felt that special place that comes just before coming over the top, and I reached my head out and sucked in lover boy�s cock, and then came. I vaguely felt myself pull at the straps as my entire body tried to twist in ecstasy.
Leo pulled out and then switched to my asshole. Being taken up the ass was never one of my favorites, but just after that beautiful starburst, it felt intense. A moment later, he came and then pulled out. Tom pulled out of my mouth at the same time. Was that all? I whinnied plaintively.
No, it wasn�t all. Tom plunged into me in back, raring to go, as Lucy came up and lifted her skirt. Do a girl? My tongue seemed to have a mind of its own. It flicked out to sample her lips and find her clit. Mmmm. Different from a guy. Tom brought me up a second time. I exploded just as both he and Lucy came.
�Man, is she hot!� I dimly heard someone say. Leo? �Pity about that hair.�
�Well, what can you do?� Tom replied.
�Enjoy,� Leo responded. I heard the cell door open and close. Then Tom came up behind me and stuck the dildo and ass plugs back in and tightened them down.
�Ok, girl. Up you go,� Tom said as he unbuckled the straps and I came back to my hooves kind of unsteadily. �Back to the stand, now. That�s a good pony.�
They settled me back on the stand. I kind of wish he�d left the ring gag. I could just see myself with my tongue hanging out of my mouth.
I�d been carrying a backpack in the trotting booth for a while. One day, Tom came in with Dana. At 2�6�, Dana was a perfect doll. I�d seen her in the corridor and riding some of the other girls, but she�d never worked with me before. �Time for some riding lessons, girl.� I whinnied at him. I wasn�t exactly bored, but I did want to learn more about being a pony.
He swapped my ball gag for a bit, attached reins, pulled the headrest and unclipped the ass plug. �Up.� I came up like a well-oiled elevator. He guided me over to the wall. �Down.� I knelt on the floor. �Sit.� I started a moment, and then whinnied. I�d never done that before! �On your heels, pony,� he said, kind of crossly. On my heels? Oh, a memory returned. That�s what he meant. I sat. �Bend over.� I whinnied again, distressed. He pushed my back, and I bent over. Oh.
I heard Dana pull something from the wall. Then I felt a cool, hard thing on my back. She buckled it to rings in my bustier. Then she pulled something else from the wall, and buckled it in back of my shoulders. She stroked my left arm, and unhooked it from where it was latched to my shoulder. She brought it back behind me, and hooked it in back. Then she did the same to my right arm. My arms were now crossed behind my back. She took another something from the wall, and attached it on my back.
She came up on my left, and then I felt a pull. I almost fell over as she swung herself into the saddle on my back. �Up slowly, pony.� I tried to stand; then I felt Tom�s hands on my body, guiding me in the movements he wanted me to make. I came up slowly until I was sitting, then he brought me up to a kneeling position. From a kneel, I stood the same way I did coming off my stand. I could feel Dana on my back, kind of like the backpack I�d been wearing in the trotting booth. If I looked up, I could see her above me.
She started putting me through my paces. We went around the cell as I got used to having her on my back. Eventually, she stopped me by the wall. �Sit.� I sat, and then bent down again. She swung off. Then she swung back on again, and I came up. We practiced that for a while. Then she took the saddle off and put me back on my stand.
Selma is training up nicely. That hair was a real problem, but it looks like she�s gotten around it � at least until BlackThunderbolt and the geneticists make a mistake.
If you enjoyed this story, please e-mail the author and let him know. He likes to hear from his loyal fans,and it gives him some motivation to keep writing this stuff. Of course, if you're a publisher and you'd like to buy some of these stories, please let him know. The starving author in the garret makes a great story, but it sucks in real life.