This work is copyright 2000-2006 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.
Now on to the story...
Chapter 2. Jenny. Processed by Reliable.
Chapter 4. Jenny: This is your life. Adapt ... or else.
Chapter 5. Jenny. Ponygirls in their cages.
Chapter 6. Jenny: Training Carol.
Chapter 7. Jenny, Carol and the Tentacle Monster.
Chapter 8. Jenny: Ponygirl Ronnie.
Chapter 10. Jenny: As Luck Would Have It.
Chapter 11. Audry: Faux Ponygirl.
Chapter 12. Jenny: On the Road Toward College
Chapter 13. Audry: The Taxi Service Acquires a Wild Ponygirl
Chapter 14. Beth: If it�s wrong, it�s wrong.
Chapter 15. Jenny and Beth: At The Mountain View Motel.
Chapter 18. Jenny and Beth: Settling In.
Chapter 19. Jenny at the Taxi Service
Chapter 20. Jenny collars Beth.
Chapter 21. Jenny Discovers a Wild Girl Infestation
Chapter 24. Jenny: Programming Seminar.
Chapter 25. Audry: Good News, Bad News and News.
Chapter 26. Jenny and Beth: Preparations.
Chapter 27. Audry: A step forward?
Chapter 28. Jenny and Beth: What�s in the box?
Chapter 29. Audry: The light dawns.
Chapter 31. Jenny: Engine Girl.
Chapter 32. Jenny: All is Revealed.
Chapter 33. Jenny: Well, maybe.
Chapter 34. Jenny: Tamed Girls.
Chapter 35. Jenny: Vacation Time.
�Calm down!� Jenny�s mother instructed. �You�ll muss your makeup.�
�Why?� she answered with the unanswerable logic of a late teenager.
�If you expect to get picked as a wife, you need to look attractive, not like you�re going to jump out of your panties at the slightest sound.�
�She won�t be wearing then much longer anyway,� Debbie, the youngest of Jenny�s sisters, put in.
�She does not need your remarks,� their mother said.
�She�s going and she won�t be back,� Debbie shot back.
�One more remark.�
Dave, the only boy still in the brood, vanished down the hall.
�It�s time I got mine back!� Debbie said.
�That�s enough,� Sara said, holding her hand out for what Dave had fetched. �Open up.�
Debbie looked at the device and grimaced. Mother really must be mad, she thought, but she opened her mouth obediently. A moment later her mother snapped the latch on the ball gag closed behind her youngest�s head.
Esther started to say something and then thought better of it.
�You had something to say?� Sara asked sweetly.
�Nothing that needs saying now,� she answered.
�Good.�
Jenny took a deep breath and let her eyes wander to her mother�s marital collar. It was a simple circlet of a light-colored metal, about an inch tall and 3/8ths of an inch thick with a post and a ring in the center. It had her name, Sara, boldly engraved on the left of the post in half inch high letters and her husband�s name, Dennis Jackson, equally boldly engraved to the right. The legend �devoted and obedient wife of� crossed the top in smaller engraving.
It was almost impossible to see the join where the pin had let it pivot in two half circles until her husband had placed it on her neck and closed it with a rivet gun. According to the Church, it symbolized the two halves of the marriage, permanently linked. By law and custom it would never be removed. It would be the only thing that remained after she was cremated; its surface discolored and the circuitry inside fused by the heat of the final flame that consumed the body she had ceased to inhabit.
She let herself imagine what it would feel like to have one like it encircling her neck, engraved with �Jenny� and �Jack Davis�. She could almost feel his hand on her head and the thud of the rivet gun.
�There, all better?� Sara asked her current eldest.
�I suppose,� Jenny answered. Then she giggled to release the tension. �As good as it�ll get.�
�What�s the problem?� asked Dave. �Your grades have been good, you shouldn�t have to worry.�
�You know how it works?� Jenny asked.
�Sorta.�
�Right,� Sara said. �Esther, tell your brother how the selection system works.�
�Uh,� she started off. �Well, the bottom 40 percent becomes ponygirls and engines, and the top 30 goes to college to become Professionals. Unless one of the guys picks them as his wife.�
�And the rest?�
�Some kind of drudge. Maids, that kind of thing.�
�Which is why you�re studying like mad,� Dave said.
�Of course! Being Swifty�s daughter is not a guarantee of college if I don�t get a guy!�
�Persistence, properly directed, will get you a long way,� their father, Dennis, put in.
�Well, that�s almost right. Only 50 of the professional candidates are going to go to college, the rest will get snapped up to do something else.�
�So being in the top 30 percent isn�t a guarantee?�
�Right. That�s what�s got Jenny bothered.�
�And they don�t tell you where you rank, either,� Dave added. �She should be in the top 30 percent, but we don�t really know.�
�Dave, make sure Swifty�s harnessed,� his father instructed. �Jenny, you�re looking about as good as I�ve ever seen.�
She preened a moment.
�So it�s time. Turn around and put your hands behind your back.�
She sighed again but obediently turned and clasped her hands.
Dennis slid one set of cuffs up to just below her elbows, and another on her wrists, and then pressed her elbows together until the latches caught.
�That�ll have to do,� Sara said as she hung Jenny�s purse on her belt.
�Well, let�s get going,� Dennis said. Jenny sighed again, her bosom heaving because of the way her pinioned arms made her breasts stick out, but obediently followed her mother out the door, being very careful of her footing. Three inch heels without arms to keep balance could lead to a nasty spill if she wasn�t careful!
Dave stood in the driveway holding Swifty�s reins. Swifty was a typical ponygirl. Her two inch wide mane fell carelessly to the center of her back, and blew a bit in the slight breeze. It complemented the chestnut horsehair of her tail and which covered her powerful legs from the top of her thighs to where they vanished into mid-calf length hoof boots. Her collar looked, at first glance, to be the same as Sara�s collar. It said �Swifty� on the left, and had the names �Dennis� and �Sara� stacked on the right, with �Jackson� in slightly larger letters following. There was no legend.
The collar, together with chastity shield and her nose and breast rings, was her only adornment. She occasionally wore various pieces of jewelry, ribbons and such, but never wore anything that could be described as clothing.
Her hip harness firmly attached her to the shafts of the trap. Her hands rested lightly on the shafts, held in place by wrist cuffs and a light chain. A bridle with blinders encased her head; a bit-like device that attached to her permanent jaw block held her reins.
�You�ll have to ride with us,� Dennis told his daughter. �There�s no way you�re going to be able to walk it with those heels.�
A minute later they were off down the lane, Swifty trotting fairly slowly so the rest of the brood could keep pace without running.
Part way there, they heard a beep-beep from behind them. Swifty pulled the trap a bit over to the side so whoever had beeped could pass.
Jenny looked out of the trap at the wagon. It seemed to be a fairly standard four engine light truck. The engine compartment was open to take advantage of the pleasant spring day so she could see the four engines nestled next to each other, two abreast. All four wore engine hoods and had their legs going in long, powerful strokes. Their hands rested on the steering controls.
She shuddered slightly. It wasn�t at all likely, but the fates were notoriously fickle. And they didn�t give you any idea beforehand.
She sighed as they added themselves to the long line of carriages, traps, carts and other ponygirl conveyances that led into the school. Mercifully, the line actually kept moving. Swifty had her tail high; she was obviously enjoying herself. It wasn�t often she got to show how smoothly she could pull the trap in slow motion.
They got to the front and her father handed her down. One of the sophomores bounced into the trap and took a card from the dispatcher.
�Goodbye,� her mother said, giving her a hug that she couldn�t return. She melted into her mother�s arms instead for a moment. �And give me a call when you settle in with your husband.� When she turned to enter the auditorium, she thought she saw a tear in her mother�s eye.
The guard looked at his reader as she reached the head of the line. �Jenny Jackson?�
She nodded, wondering if he was really interested.
�Row 5, place 15,� he replied.
That was what she expected, she thought. Taller girls were farther back, and they were in alphabetical order within height. She was almost exactly average. She walked carefully into the large auditorium and turned toward the stands for the graduating girls on the right.
There were already a fair number of girls there, she noted. The girls in the first row sat primly on their heels, the ones in the second row knelt on little cushions. The ones in the third row stood. The rest of the rows were on terraced platforms that rose three inches for each row.
The fifty places in each row were staggered so she could see straight ahead without having to look at the back of the girl�s head in front of her. The girls were spaced far enough apart that there was no difficulty making her way through the array.
She found her place, planted her heels shoulder width apart, and settled back to wait for the graduation ceremony to start and for her to hear the verdict on what she would be doing for the rest of her life.
She watched the crowd gather, families in the center, the girls around her and the two rows of boys on the other side. Not for the first time she called down a malediction on the long dead head of whoever had created the virus which had changed the sex ratio to one boy for every five girls.
She smiled slightly as she saw Jack come in and take his place. Like all the boys, he had a collar and neatly coiled leash hanging from his belt. She tried to catch his eye, but failed. It seemed that he wasn�t really looking at the massed array of 500 girls across from him at all. Even if he was, he�d probably have a hard time picking her out of the crowd.
Her mind wandered a bit with the waiting. She amused herself by watching several of the school�s collared workers. They were easy enough to spot: they wore the school�s staff uniform and they had collars around their necks.
At that distance it was impossible to tell the difference between their collars, her mother�s collar and Swifty�s collar. Or the ones that the engines in the truck wore. Partly it was because there wasn�t any difference. They were exactly the same. Her mother and the collared workers wore clothes, the ponygirls and engines didn�t. Her mother�s collar had a legend on top; the other three didn�t. At that distance it didn�t help; her eyes weren�t good enough to see the slight difference the legend made. Neither were anyone else�s.
What did make the difference was the skirt length. Uniform tunics for collared workers were almost always mid-thigh length. Professionals and senior workers had relatively free choice in skirt length and took advantage of it, with one notable exception: wives who had joined the senior worker or professional ranks always wore their uniform tunics below the knee.
Finally, she thought as she flexed her legs the way she�d been taught to keep them from cramping, the principal arrives! Now let�s get this show moving.
She let her mind drift again, imagining what it would be like to be Jack Davis� wife as the principal droned on with the utterly predictable banalities of the graduation ceremony.
Finally he got to the point, and the second row of boys turned and walked up to the stage, maintaining their line. An attendant walked down the line, holding a short whispered conversation with each of them and checking something on her reader. She was dressed in the school�s staff uniform and wore a collar, but she was not a collared worker. She was a wife who had finished raising her family and become a teacher. At that distance, the only way she could tell for certain was the slight distortion that the legend caused at the top of her collar. Teaching, she thought, was one of the Professions. She wouldn�t mind becoming a teacher.
Another teacher, this one in the school staff uniform but not wearing a collar around her neck, stood on the platform checking something on her reader and matching stacks of graduation certificates. She handed a pair to the principal.
�Roger Stout,� he called. �Nancy Devon. Is it your will to become Roger�s wife?�
She heard a squeal from behind her, and a tallish blonde walked down the terrace. She had her arms pinioned crosswise, Jenny noticed.
Nancy walked up the stairs to the platform and stopped in front of Roger. She fell to her knees and then bowed further, torso almost horizontal, as Roger placed his hand on her head and said: �Nancy Devon, by my will and your will, I take you as my wife. You will be known as Nancy Stout from this time forward.�
He took the collar from his belt and slid it closed around her neck. The solid thunk of a rivet gun echoed through the hall. Then he unfastened her cuffs and pulled her into a deep kiss. He snapped the leash on her collar, and they made their way back to the second row. Nancy sat prettily at his feet, leaning back gently against one of his legs as his hand rested on her shoulder.
The ceremony went on and on and on. Part way through, he called Jess Stewart.
Why, she thought to herself, is Jess carrying a collar? He�s so gay it isn�t funny. Then the principal called Mary Snell, and she almost gasped. Mary was just as much a lesbian as Jess was gay.
She thought she heard someone behind her gag slightly. Then a firm soprano said: �I accept.�
Mary came down and went through the submission ceremony, but Jess didn�t undo her cuffs or kiss her. Jess clipped the leash to her collar and led her back to the boy�s side, where she sat at his feet, just like all the other new wives.
She wondered briefly: How are they ever going to make that work? Then the principal called another boy and his intended wife.
He finally got to Jack Davis, and she flexed her legs so she wouldn�t fall when he called her.
It didn�t happen. The principal called Rita Adams instead.
What! Jenny thought, stunned. What could he possibly see in that cow?
Finally the first part of the ceremony was over; all hundred of the boys had returned to their places, each of them with his new wife sitting at his feet.
�Now we come to those of our graduating young women who will be going on to college to prepare for a professional career,� the principal intoned. He reached for a graduation certificate and read the name.
�Peggy Sanchez.�
Peggy walked out of the mass of girls and ascended the platform. The principal unsnapped her cuffs and handed her the certificate, and asked her what she intended to study.
She decided, not at all surprisingly, that she wanted to be a teacher.
She walked down the other side of the stage and took her place standing in the row behind the boys and their new wives.
It was over. Fifty college bound girls had ascended the podium and received their diplomas, and Jenny still stood among the 350 girls that had not been selected. She looked around numbly.
The guards had brought out the barrier as the last few girls had been called. The first row of seated girls rose smoothly and walked out the door to the lot. There wasn�t much else they could do, Jenny thought. All that was left was to face up to whatever happened and take it like an adult. Breaking down would practically guarantee a lifetime as an engine.
Time seemed to crawl as the line crept along. The last dozen or so feet of the line had bars crossing at a two and four foot height, placing each girl into her own separate cell. The guards on each side checked to make sure they knew which girl was in each space, and then clipped a card to her dress. Once she got to the door, she found that they had set up a temporary hallway in the lot with corridors heading off to the left, right and straight ahead but then with a turn she couldn�t see around.
The final barrier dropped, letting her into the corridor. The only way she could go was left; the other two directions were blocked by bars on the doors. She walked to the left, turned a corner and stopped, wide-eyed with shock.
The sign said: �Reliable Ponygirl and Engine Training.�
Three girls stood ahead of her, apparently being processed. Each one stood as an attendant used a power shear to strip her clothing, letting it fall into a pile of brightly-colored discarded scraps. When they had completely denuded the poor girl of everything except her chastity shield, she walked forward, knelt in the submission pose, and was collared. Then they led her away to something else she couldn�t quite see.
A guard scowled at her. �Over here, we haven�t got all day!�
She took a deep breath to calm herself and walked, still stunned, to the empty spot. The attendant looked at the card clipped to her dress and then unbuckled her belt, handing it to the waiting guard.
Two minutes later it was all over. She got to her feet, naked and collared. A guard put a leash on her collar and led her past a row of frames, each of which had a kneeling girl bound facing forward and head tilted back. A group of attendants was doing something to them, but she didn�t have the time to figure out what.
They turned a corner. �I�m not going to have any trouble with you, right?�
There didn�t seem to be any answer other than �no.�
�Good.� He unsnapped the shackles on her arms and handed her a tunic. �Get dressed.�
She looked at the garment and then slid it on over her shoulders, twisting a bit in pleasure as it fell across her body. It was remarkable, she thought, how much difference a simple mid-thigh length tunic could make. Even without underwear.
He handed her a belt and her purse. She put them on and twisted to settle them around her waist.
�Hit the head.� He gestured at a partition.
She gratefully walked to the other side and saw, as she expected, a flexible pipe. She snapped it into the catheter valve and stretched as she felt her bladder empty. A minute later it was done. She unfastened the pipe and walked back to the waiting guard.
He snapped a leash on her collar and led her outside.
�Stay here until someone comes for you,� he said as he wrapped the end of the leash around a convenient post.
It couldn�t, she thought, have been more than five minutes since she had reached the end of the line inside the auditorium.
When she looked around she found herself standing near a fence, close to the temporary building she had just left. As soon as she got settled, she saw them lead a naked, collared and cuffed girl out of the shed and clip her leash to a long, neck high chain that ran between two posts. There were several other naked girls already on the chain, and spots for several more. The girls, she noted, didn�t seem to be talking. She frowned. It made sense that they�d have blocked talking right away, but they still seemed to have the use of their mouths. Strange.
It looked like Hey Girl! had their area on the other side of the fence. She noted the same organization; the processing shed, the chains of girls and the trucks. However, the girls on the chains wore tunics and weren�t cuffed; quite a few of them were talking to each other in low voices.
On the other side of the Hey Girl! enclosure a number of people wandered around an open area. They seemed to be some of her classmates; a mixture of single girls and boys with their new wives. They were talking with older people in a range of booths bearing signs of companies she had never heard of.
A thought occurred to her, and she got her compact out of her purse. A bit of angling and she could see her collar. It didn�t, she noted, have her name on it. That area was blank. The other side said, as she expected, �Reliable Ponygirl and Engine Training�.� So she�d wound up as a collared worker. Well, it was better than being an engine or ponygirl, although Swifty certainly seemed to be a busy and fairly happy being.
�Having fun?� an amused alto broke into her thoughts.
�Uh?� she turned around, startled.
The speaker was a somewhat older woman, probably in her mid 30s, wearing a Reliable uniform and a collar.
�I�m Helen,� she said. �You�re coming with me.� She untied Jenny�s leash and led her to one of the waiting trucks. She held the right side door to the driver�s compartment open. �Hop in.�
A moment later, Helen seated herself on the left and slammed the door shut. �Strap yourself in and hold the questions until we get onto the road.�
Jenny fastened the safety straps and sat back to watch. This was the first time she�d ever been in a truck.
The front of the passenger compartment didn�t look all that different from the several passenger cars she had been in; they were also quite familiar from school and 3-V shows.
The wrap-around window at the front extended all the way to the back of the passenger compartment. The various displays and readouts wrapped around just below, extending from door frame to door frame. Pullout tables and control panels sat below the line of displays.
There was enough space on the bench for three passengers. The space under the dash had two closed and two open cabinets which separated the passenger�s spaces; at least if they wanted to stretch out their legs.
Helen manipulated a joystick for a minute, moving the truck back and forth until it got out of the lot and turned onto the road. She finally put the joystick away and sat back. �The computer in this thing sucks,� she announced to no one in particular.
�Huh?� Jenny said to the unexpected comment.
�The lead engines are pretty good, but the computer can�t coordinate a back and forward maneuver to save its screwed-up electrons,� she explained.
�Huh?� Jenny said again.
Helen laughed. �We�ve got an hour to kill, so ask away. And shut up when I tell you; traffic rules say I have to have the controls out and my complete attention on the road when the traffic computer gives me an alert.�
�OK. What did you mean about the engines?�
�You know that the engines actually do the driving, right?�
�I�d heard that, but?�
�Well, two of them do, one for forward and one for reverse. They use the front and rear cameras. I tell the computer where we�re going, and the computer feeds them the route minute by minute. They handle all the detail, and quite well, too. What they don�t do is coordinate; that�s supposed to be the computer�s job. Unfortunately, this model is so totally screwed up on back and forth maneuvers to get in and out of tight spaces that it�s easier for me to tell them what to do.�
�I suppose it�ll make sense,� Jenny said.
�It had better.�
�So what�s going to happen?� Jenny asked.
�You�ve probably guessed you�re going to be a slavegirl?�
�I thought that was on the other side?�
�I call it like it is: slavegirl and collared worker are the same. We�re both slavegirls. You want to be prissy and call us collared workers, I won�t complain. Almost all collared workers start out at Hey Girl! Reliable likes to start its manufacturing trainees out right away rather than getting them from Hey Girl! We let Hey Girl! train our office staff, though.�
�So that�s what I�m going to be doing?�
�Something in the manufacturing operation. I don�t know what. I�ve got a bunch of stuff I�m supposed to tell you if you ask, and another bunch of stuff that I�m not supposed to tell you. Not that it�s secret, it�s just that they don�t want to take the time and effort to make sure I�ve got it right.�
�So what�s going to happen when we get there?�
�You�re going right over to medical so they can install the mods.�
�What!�
�You�re going to get part of the ponygirl and engine mods.�
�I don�t understand?�
�I don�t either. They didn�t give me the memo.� Helen laughed. �They�re not going to install them all. You can still talk, right?�
�Uh. Yes.�
�Well, the girls in back can�t. They�ve already had the throat unit installed; that�s what keeps them from talking.�
�Oh. So that�s what they were doing.�
�Yep. It gets them started out right, and they can�t scare each other with rumors.�
Reliable seemed to be huge. Helen watched alertly as the truck turned off the expressway onto a side road, and then turned into an entrance road with big Reliable signs and the usual warnings about �Private! Keep Out!�
The truck drove down a couple more roads and then stopped in front of a large building with a sign that proclaimed it was �Stage 1 Manufacturing, Building 4.�
Helen, Jenny noticed, had pulled out the joystick again. She moved it back and forth as the truck pulled forward and then back into an unloading slot.
A guard opened the door. �Jenny Jackson? Get out here.�
She looked at him, unfastened the harness, slid out of the cab and stretched.
He held out a leash. �Work rules say you�re to be leashed at all times in this facility unless specifically told otherwise. You don�t have to be cuffed.�
�Uh, I�d rather not,� she answered as she bent her head back a bit to let him snap the leash on her collar.
�Funny,� he chuckled. �They all say that.
�The next thing,� he said conversationally as he led her along, �is that you�re supposed to watch the unloading process for our new ponygirls and engines.�
�Uh, why?�
�They didn�t tell me,� he answered cheerfully. �I think it�s half �there, but for the grace of the Goddess,� and half so you get a good feel for what they start out with. Of course, they may have other things in mind.�
He led her to an area by the side. Workers opened the truck and pulled the girls out by the end of the chain. By now they looked more worried and scared than stunned, but they followed along without much prompting. He led her along after the procession until they turned into a long room.
The two chains of girls separated, each one going down a corridor that seemed to be lined with booths.
�New worker?� a pleasant soprano said from behind her.
�Yep,� the guard said.
�So I get to give her the standard lecture. This is Manufacturing Stage 1. What they�re doing is putting the girls into training cages. They stay in these cages until surgery is ready for them, and then they stay another four days to make sure everything heals up properly. When they�re healed from the surgery, they�re transferred to Stage 2.�
�No exercise?�
�We give them a bit, but we don�t really have the facilities for anything major. By the time they get to Stage 2 they�re ready for anything resembling exercise. Now watch.�
She stood aside so that Jenny could see what was happening. It was, she thought, startling. A platform slid out of the booth. The guard unclipped the next girl off the chain and told her to sit on it. She looked around, shrugged and sat. Then she squirmed a bit to get comfortable on the contoured surface. Suddenly there was a snap and then the platform pulled the girl into the booth. A metal mesh slid down the front.
�Once they get done loading the row we�ll show them how they get their nutrients,� she finished.
�That�s all here,� the guard told her, giving her leash a gentle tug.
�How can they do that day after day?�
He shrugged. �The women in this section aren�t too bright. They like routine.�
�So here�s our new worker,� a chipper voice said as the guard led her into what looked like a hospital nurse�s station.
�Yep. Jenny Jackson. She�s all yours.� He handed the girl the leash and waved his badge at a reader plate.
�I�m Natalie,� the young woman said. �Orderly extraordinary. Meaning I take orders extraordinarily well.� She giggled. �Right now we�ve got to take you to your room. You�re kind of late in the day, so you�re not scheduled for surgery until tomorrow morning.�
�Um?� Jenny said as she looked at the room.
�It�s a hospital room. What did you expect? This is a hospital.�
�Uh, right.�
�Hop into the bed. Orders are that you�re to be chained in bed.�
Jenny got into the bed and arranged herself.
�Now we need to connect you up,� Natalie said as she peeled back the covers and extended a tube. She reached between the girl�s thighs and deftly snapped it into place. �All good. Just don�t get it tangled.� She padlocked the light chain from the wall onto Jenny�s collar.
�Uh, right,� Jenny said as she pulled the covers back up.
�Good. Here�s a reader. While you�re here waiting for surgery and then while you�re recovering, you�re supposed to be studying. The subject is basic manufacturing. Terminology, procedures, background. All that boring stuff. It beats staring at the ceiling, but not by much.�
Jenny giggled at the image.
�Get yourself organized and I�ll be in with dinner in a bit.� She turned and walked out.
Jenny pulled the reader up and started stroking the back. There was, after all, not that much to do other than memorize the cracks on the ceiling plaster.
Audry looked at the girl on the stage with wide eyes. The dancer had just finished a number, and coyly intimated that she was available � for a fee.
�They let her do that?� she breathed.
�She�s probably wild,� Darlene said. �Wild girls have got to make money somehow.�
�Wild girls?�
�She decided to drop out of the system. How?� Darlene shrugged.
�How is easy,� Francine proclaimed. �There�s all kinds of things you can get off the record. What I don�t understand is why.�
�I would if I could,� Audry almost whispered as she watched the dancer descend the stage.
�You�re nuts,� Darlene proclaimed.
That night, Audry checked her reader for messages. One popped up: �You want to drop out?� with a one time contact number.
�Am I going to have any trouble with you?� the guard asked.
�Uh, no sir,� Jenny said from where she lay propped up on the hospital bed.
�Good. They tell me you�re healed from the operation, so I�m to take you to your work assignment.� He reached over and unlocked the light chain that attached her collar to the wall.
�Get dressed. There.� He pointed at a cabinet.
She blushed as she got dressed under his watchful eye. Then she looked at herself in the mirror and nodded thoughtfully. The mid-thigh length skirt and neckline that stopped just before it showed cleavage seemed to be the current fashion for collared workers� uniforms when they would not be doing anything that required protective clothing.
�Do I need this?� He held out a leash.
�No, sir.�
�Good. Follow me. No need to remember where we�re going. You won�t be coming back this way for a long time, if ever.� He walked out of the ward, Jenny hurrying to keep up.
After several twists and turns and one short elevator ride they emerged into the sunlight. She stopped, startled at the sight of wide lawns and flower beds, with ponygirls and what had to be engines taking care of the flowers.
�Surprised?� he asked.
�Uh, yes.�
�It�s a common enough reaction. Ponygirls and engines are all supposed to be able to do yard work, do their own housekeeping and keep their equipment working.�
�Swifty sure did,� Jenny said reflectively.
�Your family�s ponygirl? The best way of making sure they can do it is to have them do it. This place wouldn�t be half the size if we didn�t need all the space to give them a yard to work. It sure makes it pretty, though.�
�It sure does,� she agreed as he led the way to a waiting ponygirl and a two seat chariot.
�I suppose this is more of the same?�
�Right. Municipal taxi services, parks, industrial farms and suchlike are our second biggest market segment, right behind individuals, so we give them lots of practice before sale. Or at least as much as we can squeeze in.�
�I suppose you do the same for engines?�
�Not as much as we�d like. The truck you came in on had trainee engines, but we don�t have enough of that kind of work.�
They arrived at another building in short order. The neatly kept sign on the front lawn proclaimed: �Ponygirl Manufacturing Stage 2, Building 4.� The only way to describe the building, Jenny thought, was huge. Four stories and sprawling.
They went down several corridors and eventually stopped in front of a door marked: Ponygirl Manufacturing. Stage 2. Unit 128.
�In you go, girl.� He stood aside as she looked at the door. She shrugged and went through. There weren�t, she thought, all that many other options. Like, none.
Inside was a small cubicle with another door. She tried the handle and found it wouldn�t budge until the outer door closed behind her. Then it opened and she walked through.
She looked around and saw an older woman standing watching, arms crossed under her breasts. Well, she was a few years older than Jenny herself.
�So you�re my new crew member,� she said. �Female. Check. Breathing. Check. I take it your name is Jenny? I�m Daphne.�
�Uh. Yes, I�m Jenny. Hello, um, Daphne?�
�You got it. I suppose you�ve got all the usual questions, because I know they didn�t tell you anything while you were in the hospital recovering from the operation.�
�I got a lot to study, but it all seemed kind of general.�
�They do that so you�re not totally bewildered when you arrive. Manufacturing is manufacturing; the basics are the same everywhere. The only place you�re going to learn the specifics is on the job.
�Let�s start at the top. We live here and we stay here, possibly until we�re ready to be cremated. The usual way out of this unit is a job transfer to another assignment in the organization. If you don�t work out you�ll find yourself in one of the cages being trained for real.�
�That�s?�
�Not what you expected? Don�t worry about it. We have very few failures, and the comps assign trainees to units where they�ll fit in. Reliable is interested in getting its ponygirls trained properly, not in providing fodder for the 3-V comedies.
�We sleep 8 hours, work an 8 hour shift and have the other 8 hours to study and amuse ourselves. There are two of us on each shift in each cell, for six on shift in the unit. We supposedly get one day a week off, so there are actually seven of us on each of the day shifts. The day off rotates; the seventh worker rotates among the cells. Otherwise we�re assigned to a specific cell and stay there until we�re reassigned.
�There are only four people on the night shift. We don�t need more because all the girls are supposed to be asleep in their cages. They do maintenance and some monitoring and planning.
�Trainees, that�s you, are extra. We work extra shifts while we�ve got a trainee, and then she fills in to make up the time. Once she�s up to speed and can take a full shift without a mentor, one of us will get moved to another assignment.
�You�re not actually going to get a lot of time off for a few months because of training assignments I�m going to talk about later. Once you�re done with those you get most of your off shifts and half of your days off; the other half you�ll spend doing something else I�ll talk about later.�
�Uh. Right.�
�Physically,� she gestured to a chart on the wall, �the unit is a rectangle, and it�s a lot longer than it is wide. The dormitory extends all the way along the wall. Next there�s a row of study cubicles. We each have one. Then we have the long corridor, rows of units stacked lengthwise, and another long corridor by the far wall. The other side of that wall is the rein training area.�
�It looks simple enough,� Jenny said as she looked at the diagram. �I�m, um, here and here?�
�Right. Your area in the dormitory is a bed and a small stand. The walls between are both light and sound absorbent, as is the far wall, so you don�t have to try to sleep with a lot of noise or a lot of light. I�ll give you a quick tour when there�s nobody sleeping.
�We use a standard manufacturing cell organization. This is unit 128, and it has three cells. Each cell has 3 columns of 10 cages, for 30 in the cell. We normally have 60 girls in the unit for 20 in each cell. We get an average of one new girl a day and send an average of one trained girl a day on to stage 3. Most of the fluctuation is smoothed out in stage 1; we�ve sometimes been up to 25 in each cell, and sometimes down to 15, but it usually stays right around 20.
�Each cell has six rows: three rows of cages, one row of Tentacle Monsters, one row of treadmills and storage, and one row that contains a washer and the maintenance area for the servicers. There�s also a row between units that�s got the laundry, closet space and maintenance work areas. As well as the engine mount trainers.�
�The what?� Jenny exclaimed, her attention dragged away from the diagram.
�Engine mount trainers. We�re all trained as both ponygirls and engines, and we spend time as ponygirls and engines regularly.�
�You�re ... you aren�t joking, are you?�
�Nope,� Daphne giggled. �One of the things I love about raw trainees is their expression when I tell them. I�ll tell you more later.�
�You know the way manufacturing operations structure tasks, right?�
�Uh, yes. That got covered.�
�Good. In this unit there are a couple of dozen tasks, but practically there are really three; we don�t have much use for a shift worker who can only do some of the tasks.�
�So I need to make level 2 on most of the tasks?�
�Right. Then the second group would be?�
�Um. What I�d need to train a new worker. That would be level 3 on all the shift tasks and 2 on the rest?�
�Right. Then you�d need 3 on the rest to be able to train a new trainer. That�s a supervisory position. You�ve got a reasonable length of time to make shift worker, and you don�t have to go beyond that. We don�t expect genius here, just people that can get it before they�re ready to be cremated.�
�Long before, I presume.�
�Right. We almost never have anyone fail to get there. Reliable�s selection process is supposed to reject anyone that�s even close to marginal.�
�Uh. Right.�
�Which brings up why you�re here at Reliable rather than somewhere else. You�re a heartless bitch.�
�I�m what!�
�You�re a heartless bitch. So am I, and so are the other crew members. The technical term is borderline sociopath. In plain English, it means you don�t give a shit what happens to anyone except yourself, and you won�t have any qualms about what we do to our ponygirls. Even though some of them are going to be girls you went to school with who were your friends.�
�Well, you gotta look out for yourself. Nobody else is going to.�
�Oh, I agree. Here.� She touched her chest. �Most people wouldn�t, or at least wouldn�t take it to the extreme we do.
�The only way you can work in the stage 1 or stage 2 units is to not be concerned about what you�re doing to them. Most people couldn�t work here. If they had to turn a friend into a ponygirl it would rip them apart. It�s possible to work farther down the line without the same problems, but it�s still not easy if you see someone you knew and liked coming through.�
Jenny looked at Daphne narrowly. �There�s something you�re not telling me.�
�Since you asked. We�re going to get one, possibly two girls from your graduating class, and they�re going to be your responsibility.�
�You�re going to what?�
�You�re going to be responsible for one or two girls from your graduating class. It�s a test to see if they were right about you. If you genuinely can�t handle it, they�ll put you somewhere else. If you try to fake not being able to handle it, you�ll join them in the next cage.�
Jenny swallowed. �Got it.�
�Now for what we actually do. We�re the second stage of ponygirl manufacturing. Our job is to take ponygirls from stage 1 manufacturing and bring them along to where we can pass them to stage 3 manufacturing.
�You just spent a few days in Stage 1 so you know that they do the surgery to install the modifications. Input comes in waves as schools do their graduations; some days they�ve got over a thousand new girls, some days they�ve got almost none. The average for this plant is a bit less than 500 a day. They can handle 800, but if they get hit with a big wave the girls may sit in a cage for several days before getting to surgery. That�s not totally wasted; they use a portable scanner so the computers can start installing the ponygirl functional pattern.
�Once they finish surgery they keep the girls in their cages for about four days to make sure the jaw block heals properly; that�s the biggest piece of surgery. You went to the head of the line and they kept you for two days and let you recover in a bed while you studied because you�re a worker; they don�t install the throat unit or jaw block in workers. They install the tail socket instead, which is a much simpler operation.�
�Tail socket? Oh, you did say I was going to be trained as a ponygirl.�
�Hold that thought. You undoubtedly noticed that this was a big building? Stage 2 occupies 16 buildings, 16 stage 2 units in each building. We�re one of about 500 stage two units. We get an average of one girl a day from stage one, which means that each cell gets one every three days. If they�re processing a backlog we might get two every three days; if they don�t have enough we might not get any on some days. We keep them for about two months, which means we send an average of one a day to stage 3.
�We start them on three major pieces. The first is what we call the ponygirl functional brain pattern. When they leave here they�ve got that pattern installed and it�s been locked so they can�t stray outside of it. What that means is that they can only use part of their brains. Anything having to do with language or so-called higher functions has effectively been turned off. They�ve also been conditioned to be cheerful, friendly and obedient. The conditioning will stay because it�s continuously monitored by a brain scanner installed in their skulls and reinforced by their collars.�
�I never realized!�
�We don�t put it on the 3-V,� Daphne responded dryly.
�Um,� she continued, �I didn�t think you could change personality that much.�
�That�s half right. Their personality after we get done isn�t going to be the same as it was before, but they�ll still have distinct personalities. Stage 1 shuttles girls that are likely to have problem personalities over to engine training; they�ll wind up sitting in cages when they�re not installed on an engine mount.�
�We also do initial rein, strength and stamina training. When they leave here they�re complete on the ponygirl functional pattern, pretty decent on rein training, and frequently but not always past the first checkpoint on flexibility, strength and stamina. Most of the real training happens downstream, in stages 3, 4 and 5.�
�That makes sense.�
�Enough talk. Time to show you what it looks like.�
They turned down a corridor and stopped immediately. �This is a walk-through shower,� she explained. �This thing,� she grasped a rod that came out of the wall on a track, �is a shower rod. When you put a ponygirl through it, you clip the chain on the end to her collar and it leads her through the whole process. When you go through it to take a shower you do the same thing; it won�t activate unless the chain is clipped to a collar ring.�
Jenny looked at the thing. �This is getting strange,� she said.
Daphne laughed. �It�ll get stranger. Now let�s look at ponygirls.
�We load the cells in order, so you can walk the cage rows and see how they look as they progress through their conditioning. That means the unused cells are in a block in the middle. So let�s start out with an unused cell so I can show you how it operates without disturbing one of the girls.�
�Before we do, I�ve got a question,� Jenny said. �Didn�t I just see a loose ponygirl?�
Daphne laughed. �That was Melissa; she�s one of the workers on this shift. She likes her tail enough to wear it all the time. Of course it means she has to wear a uniform shirt and shorts instead of a tunic, but that�s acceptable.�
�Uniform shorts?�
�Tails don�t go well with skirts. Your uniforms include shorts for when you�re wearing your tail and overalls for when you�re working on equipment maintenance. Now for the cage. You had a glimpse of it when you arrived, right?�
The sides and back of the cage seemed to be some kind of two inch thick white plastic. It was about three feet wide and three deep. The sides came up about six feet, with shelves of the same white plastic at about the four foot mark. They left enough space in the center so the two workers could see into the cage itself.
The knobs and switches of a control panel sat in the right wall above the shelves where they would be out of the ponygirl�s line of sight. The back had two 3-V panels: one showed the inside of the cage from the back, and the other showed it from the top.
The front and a second top were metal meshes with thick bars. The bottom was more of the white plastic, shaped with a lot of ridges and depressions.
�Here�s the cute part,� Daphne said. �Stand away.� She touched a button on the column between the cages. The front slid up and the bottom slid out into the corridor.
�Strip and sit on it,� Daphne commanded.
�Huh?�
�I said strip and sit on it.�
�But...�
�Either you strip and sit on it right now, or you�re going to back to stage 1 where they�ll put the throat and jaw units in, and then you�ll sit on it.�
�Oh.� Jenny slid out of her clothes, stacking them neatly on the shelf, and then sat on the platform. After a bit of wiggling she discovered that there was only one place she could sit comfortably, and that required her to have her legs spread wide and her feet straight back against the sides. As soon as she discovered this, a pair of shackles snapped shut around her ankles, pinning her into place.
Daphne touched a button, and the platter slid smoothly back. The front came down, closing it off.
�Explore,� she told Jenny. �There are a couple of buttons here you can use to slide the top open and shut.� She reached in and pressed them, demonstrating what they did. �I�ll be back in a while.�
Jenny listened to the almost inaudible sound of Daphne�s shoes as she walked away.
Now what? she thought to herself. Explore? She spent a little time running her hands over the confines of the cage. The sides seemed to be smooth but not quite slippery. She found that all she could see was a section of corridor and a wall. Well, that wasn�t quite right. The center cutout of the shelves let her see a patch of ceiling and the top of the wall in front of her.
Now that she�d calmed down, it seemed to be quiet. Really quiet. The whole place must be made of sound absorbent material.
What else? She might try lying down. She bent forward and discovered that her breasts fell into a cavity, and that there was something that stuck up where her mouth should be. She got back up and looked at it. It seemed to be some kind of a hook. Maybe it would latch onto a ponygirl�s jaw unit and keep her from rising until someone unlatched it? Seemed likely.
Now what were those buttons about? She pressed one and part of the top slid back. Maybe she could poke her head out? She managed to get onto her knees, ankles still shackled, and get her head out the top. �Eep!� The top had slid back into place, imprisoning her neck. She noticed she was pressed against the front bars, with her breasts stuck out of convenient openings.
The other button slid the top back again so she could sit down. She noticed that her hands rested, quite naturally, on her thighs. She took a couple of deep breaths and looked around. Try as she might, she couldn�t figure out anything else to do, so she relaxed, took a couple more deep breaths and let herself start daydreaming.
�I see you�re done exploring,� Daphne�s amused voice jerked her out of her reverie. �Let�s get you out of there.� She touched a button on the controls. It seemed for a moment that nothing happened.
�Puzzled?� Daphne still seemed to be amused. �Look at the buttons you can get to.�
�Oh!� A third button had appeared. Jenny put her finger on it. The front came up and the bottom slid out. The shackles unlocked and she scrambled to her feet, grabbing her clothes to get dressed.
�So what were your impressions?�
�It�s really confining. There�s nothing to do except play with yourself.�
�She can�t trigger the stimulation routines in her chastity shield. That�s one of the things that being collared does: your owner gets control of whether you can stimulate yourself sexually, and we turn it off until later in the sequence.
�Not having anything to do is the point. All she can do is let her mind drift, and that lets us get in and do the conditioning.�
�That�s wicked,� Jenny said in admiration.
�It�s efficient,� Daphne said. �The sooner she relaxes and lets the conditioning routines work, the sooner she�ll settle into being a ponygirl and forget any idea of ever being anything else. She won�t be happy until she does.
�That�s your ponygirl training session for today,� she said, again with a tinge of malicious amusement in her tone.
�Huh?�
�Remember I told you we were going to train you as a ponygirl and as an engine? It starts by sitting in a training cage with nothing to do except let your mind drift. They installed a brain monitor and some stimulus-response units during your surgery. There�s an AI program that does the actual conditioning. It�s not fast, but it�s insidious. Once it�s done, the equipment in the collar will keep things on track.
�By the time a girl gets here she�s already had at least four days of it while she�s recovering, and possibly a few more if they had to hold her for a while before surgery.�
Jenny shook her head. �I�ve got one question. Why?�
�We do it so that you�ve got the experience of being trained, and also the experience of what being a ponygirl is like. There are some other benefits as well.
�We have prosthetics for the throat and jaw units as well as a prosthetic tail and a wig that lets us put your hair up into a fairly decent mane. You�ll learn to put the prosthetics in and take them out, and you�ll spend three of your supposed off shifts a week in a cage with them installed. You�ll be fully trained in less than three months.
�I think I understand being trained as a ponygirl, but why an engine?�
�This is one manufacturing operation that does both ponygirls and engines. This unit is stage 2 of the ponygirl process; stage 2 of the engine process is exactly the same except that they do engine mount training instead of rein training. All of our manufacturing workers are trained as both ponygirls and engines.�
�Uh, right. I hope.�
Daphne giggled. �I love the way new trainees react. While you�re being trained you�ll spend three of your off shifts a week in a cage going through the same process one of our ponygirls experiences. Well, almost the same. You�ll start with rein and flexibility training, and then shift to engine mount and strength and stamina training. You�ll do a flexibility session the rest of the days as well, but it won�t be combined with cage training. Toward the end of your training you�ll begin spending a day and a half as either a ponygirl in one of the cages or mounted as an engine. That takes up your supposed day off, so you get a real day off once every two weeks. When you�re done training you get your off shifts back, but you�ll keep the day and a half every two weeks schedule.�
Jenny looked at her. �Are you sure I haven�t gone insane and I�m hallucinating?�
Daphne laughed.
�This is all highly automated. We give them two rein training sessions, a flexibility and a strength and stamina session each day, and service them four times. That comes out to 320 touches a day when the unit has 20 ponygirls in the cages.�
�Touches?�
�That�s manufacturing-speak for the number of times someone has to touch the product on the way from raw material to the customer.
�With two shift workers and 16 hours a day, that�s about 10 touches an hour per worker, or about 6 minutes per touch. You don�t have to hurry so much you make mistakes, but you do have to keep at it.�
�Oh!�
�One reason it�s set up that way is that you don�t have the time to get to know the girls when they arrive. By the time you�ve worked with one enough times for her to stand out of the herd as a real individual, she�s well on the way to being a ponygirl.�
�Well, that�s the talk. Now let�s walk over and look at one that�s just about ready to be sent to stage 3. This is Moonshine, she�s got just the most awesome silver mane.�
Moonshine sat in the back of her cage, legs spread so that they came back parallel to the walls, hands resting palm up on her thighs.
�How�s she look?�
Jenny�s brow furrowed. �Kind of content?�
�Exactly. She�s been here for six weeks, we�ll be sending her on in another two. The mental conditioning has gotten to the point where she just sits here and glows when she doesn�t have anything to do. We don�t have either her arms or her ankles shackled. We do that at the beginning, but she�s far enough into the process that it isn�t necessary.
�She doesn�t understand what anyone says around her; that process finished up about two weeks ago, and she quit being concerned about it a week ago. That�s pretty much on schedule.�
�If she doesn�t understand?�
�She reacts to commands. She doesn�t understand them, she simply reacts to them.�
�How can you react to something without understanding it?�
�It�s one of the early adjustments. You�ll find out how it works when your programming gets that far.� The trace of malice showed up in her smile.
�I suppose so. But...�
�But what?�
�It can�t be that simple. She�s trained to stay in that state. I can�t stay in that state and be at all useful.�
�Exactly. You know that the brain has over a hundred processing units and more than ten times as many connections?�
Jenny frowned slightly. �We learned that in school.�
�We call the way your brain works a functional pattern. Most people have only one, what we call their normal functional pattern. We install a second one for ponygirls and engines that we call the ponygirl functional pattern. It doesn�t include the processing units for language or a lot of the higher functions. They�re trained in it, and then they�re conditioned to not slide out of it into their old functional pattern. With me so far?�
�Uh. Yes.�
�What we do for our workers is create a third functional pattern. It�s the same as the ponygirl pattern plus some additional processing units and interconnections that let her know who she is and what she�s about in a larger context. It doesn�t include language. We call it the interface functional pattern.
�There�s also a fourth functional pattern that we call the engine mount pattern. It�s cut to the bare bones of what an engine needs when she�s installed to run her body and do her job. It doesn�t include such basic things as memory; she won�t remember anything that happens from the time the hood goes on to when it comes off, including any sense that time passed.�
�No memory at all?�
�Depends on what you call memory. Some things get stored, but they�re nothing she can access consciously. As far as she�s concerned, she knows she�s about to be mounted, and then she knows she�s been dismounted and that things have changed. She might be in the same place, she might be halfway across the country. Part of engine training is to adapt to that happening.
�We also train in ways of shifting from one pattern to the other. The rules are a bit intricate; some of them are under your control and some aren�t.
�We�ll make a couple of changes to your normal pattern. One will keep you from getting addicted to the ponygirl state, the other will let you use some of the more useful things that emerge from the ponygirl state that aren�t usually available in people�s normal state. Still with me?�
�I think so.�
�Let�s get her up here. Slide the front back and tell her to kneel.�
Jenny studied the controls for a moment. �This one?�
�Yes.�
She pushed it and was rewarded by a section of the top lifting slightly and sliding back. Moonshine�s eyes followed the movement, but the rest of her relaxed posture didn�t change in the slightest.
�Kneel.�
Moonshine bent forward and then came up on her knees like a hinge, her head popping through the top of the cage. The top slid forward, capturing her neck in a hole that was too small for the rest of her head.
�You know what they did to her in stage 1 processing?�
Jenny looked at Moonshine. �Well, the mane, the brain scanner, the jaw units, the tail and the leggings. Oh, and the gene mods. I think that�s all; the throat unit and the ID tattoo were applied just after she was collared.�
�Right. How does that compare to what they did to you?�
�I got the brain scanner and the gene mods. They also did a socket for the tail prosthesis.�
�Right again. You know how the throat and jaw unit work?�
�The jaw unit freezes her mouth in position,� Jenny said. �Beyond that? I always assumed it was to keep her from talking. Then on the way over Helen told me the throat unit did that.�
�That�s right. The throat unit has a tube down her windpipe that keeps the larynx from vibrating, and it also forces her to breath through her nose. She can�t breath through her mouth except in an emergency. If she could, she�d be able to manage a decent number of clicks and unvoiced phonemes with just her tongue. Without the breath she can only do clicks. I�ve heard there were some languages that were completely clicks, hard as it is to believe.
�That�s assuming she actually wanted to talk, which she doesn�t.�
�Oh. Talking is not part of the, what did you call it, the ponygirl functional pattern.�
�Right. The throat unit also has a pipe to her stomach. She doesn�t need to swallow; nutrients go right in. The throat unit is easy enough to install, but the jaw holder is major surgery; they take all of the teeth out and insert the holding rods right into the jaw. Letting that heal properly is what takes most of the time in stage one.
�The real reason for the jaw unit is that it distorts her face so that her expressions don�t register normally for most people. It helps make her look like an animal rather than a human. It also lets us use standardized bits that just snap in, and it�s sized so that she can suck cock if her owner wants her to.
�That�s the list.�
Daphne grinned, �I timed it just right. Here comes the servicer.�
Jenny turned and saw a machine roll up. It rolled to the front of Moonshine�s cage and grabbed the mesh with a couple of hooks. Then something darted out of the top and went between her lips. It came out with the cover from her jaw block.
Something that looked like a big penis emerged, and Moonshine bent her head forward to where her tongue could flick out and begin caressing it.
At the same time, a section lower down sucked her breasts into itself, and still farther down another section slid between her legs and nestled in the crack.
�That�s what being serviced is?� Jenny asked, fascinated. �We never did that with Speedy.�
�A fully trained ponygirl should be able to take care of herself. She has to puree foods before she injects nutrients because she can�t use her teeth or swallow, but that�s it. Why do you think we do it this way?�
�It�s more efficient?�
�That�s part of it. Part of it�s control, and part of it�s sexual programming. She�s being trained to mix up all the associations. By now, sucking cock is associated with eating and relieving herself and having her breasts and vagina stimulated. Some owners are going to want use their ponygirl sexually, so we get it out of the way up front. We keep the stimulation just below where she has an orgasm until right at the end.�
Moonshine kept licking at the cock while her two minders talked. It stiffened to where she could take it into her mouth. She sucked on it a while, a blissful look on her face.
�Once she�s got it stiff and has it in her mouth, it locks onto the throat unit so it can shoot the nutrients down the tube into her stomach.�
A few minutes later she began to breathe rapidly and then gasped, letting the flaccid cock fall out of her mouth. The device released her breasts and withdrew from her crotch. The little arm came back with the gag cover, slid it in under her partly open lips and installed it with a slightly audible click.
The top lifted back, freeing her neck. �Sit�, the servicer commanded. Moonshine folded back and then sat with a slight thump as the servicer wheeled away and the top slid back on her cage.
�How does she look?� Daphne asked.
�Smug,� Jenny answered.
�She�s got every right to be; the servicer makes sure she gets an orgasm each time she�s serviced.�
�Now here,� Daphne said, stopping in front of cage 96, �is one of our most recent acquisitions. We got her two days ago, and she�s still adjusting.�
�That�s, um, Carol?� Jenny asked.
�You know her?�
�She disappeared a couple of months ago.�
�The dossier said she was a wild girl. They picked her up on a sweep last week, and here she is.�
�Well, she had some fun anyway. I always thought she was headed for the bridle and bit.� Jenny shrugged. �She was pretty nice if a bit slow. Speedy seemed to enjoy what she does, Carol should too.�
The girl who was trying to ooze through the back of the cage made a muffled gargle.
�Hey, cheer up,� Jenny called in. �I know you�re going to do well.�
Daphne giggled at the byplay. �I�m going to give her to you to practice on.�
�Great!� Jenny exclaimed as the girl in the cage tried to shrink back even farther.
�I want to look you over,� she said as she inspected the cage controls. She pressed a button. �Kneel!�
Carol looked at her with wide eyes, but didn�t budge.
�Use the red button,� Daphne suggested.
�Oh.� Carol snorted and jerked forward as if her ass had suddenly caught on fire. She managed to get her head through the hole. The cage top slid forward, pinning her upright.
�That�s a good girl,� Jenny purred as she stroked her ex-classmate�s mane. �The sides are nice and straight. Why isn�t the rest of it that thick coat Speedy and Moonshine have?�
�It�s too soon,� Daphne answered. �They only did the treatment a few days ago; the hair follicles need time to adjust before they create the coat.�
�Same for her legs, I suppose,� Jenny said.
�Right. You can feel the stubble where it�s going to come in. Feel her back along the spine between the shoulder blades.�
�Got it,� Jenny said as she reached into the cage and ran a hand down Carol�s spine. Carol tried to flinch away, but only succeeded in pressing her front more firmly into the bars. �Nice spiky stubble.�
�Now Carol,� Jenny crooned as she stroked the ponygirl along the jaw and behind her ear. �You know you�re a ponygirl, so just relax and let us teach you how to flaunt your mane and tail.�
Carol looked briefly at the ceiling and sighed, her breath making almost no noise. She relaxed slightly, leaning into the hand that caressed her jawline.
�Good girl!� Jenny praised her.
Carol sighed again and then tilted her head back to give Jenny a better angle.
�It�s time for her next rein training session,� Daphne said, suddenly jerking Jenny out of the sensuous feel of her fingers digging into the ponygirl�s jaw.
�What is that ... thing?� Jenny asked as she saw ... something ... hanging from the ceiling and heading toward them.
�The robot exerciser,� Daphne said. �Move back a few feet.�
Jenny didn�t need any prompting. Once her heart seemed to shift out of overdrive, she looked at it a bit closer. Whatever it was seemed to be standing on the ceiling. At least, it had four wheels that were firmly planted there, holding the center column vertical. She realized that there was a small shaft that went through the ceiling. Now that she looked, it seemed to be on a track; the slot in the ceiling went up and down the corridor and vanished into the distance.
The rest of the monster seemed to be all hooks, shafts, straps and other things that ought to be safely on the other side of a 3-V epic, or at least in the back rooms of a sex shop. Carol, she noticed out of the corner of her eye, simply looked scared.
It stopped in front of the cage. �Sit�, a voice commanded. Carol noticed that her head was no longer held in place and shrank back into the cage with enthusiasm, attempting rather unsuccessfully to bond with the far wall.
The front of the cage slid up, and then the bottom slid out, serving Carol as if she was on a tray. The thing extended a rod with something on the end and clamped onto Carol�s collar. The shackles that held her ankles cuffed to the platform unsnapped. �Up!� it commanded. Carol didn�t move. It pulled up and the ponygirl stumbled to her feet.
�It�s our turn now,� Daphne almost giggled at the scene. �Put on the headstall. You know that�s the part of the bridle without the bit, right?�
�Yes,� Jenny said as she found the assemblage of straps on the shelf.
�Calm down,� she told the scared ponygirl. �It�s not going to kill you.� She held out the headstall and deftly buckled it around the head in front of her.
�Blindfold next, and then the bit and reins.�
�OK.� Jenny added the two pieces, and noticed that Carol seemed to calm down as soon as she couldn�t see. She ran a gentle hand down the ponygirl�s back and flanks twice to finish calming her.
�Now the reins go here,� Daphne instructed, pointing out two levers that sprouted from the side of the central column. Jenny attached them.
�Boots next.�
Jenny managed to get the ponygirl�s boots onto her feet without getting trampled in the process, while Daphne stood to the side, giggling.
�Now the last piece. This wire connects to her collar.�
Jenny looked at the end and the collar, and then snapped it in.
�All set,� Daphne said once the wire was connected to her satisfaction, and pushed a button on the column. The two levers twitched, shaking the reins. �March. Knees up,� the robot�s voice said as it followed the blindfolded ponygirl down the corridor toward the far side.
Jenny shook her head. �Now that is something else.�
�It sure is. It takes a bit to learn everything it can do. Let�s switch the view.� She touched a button and the two viewers in the back wall of the cage shifted to show what looked like pandemonium.
The scene sorted itself out into a number of ponygirls walking and trotting around a large room, each tethered to one of the robots. Most of the ponygirls were blindfolded. Some of them, like Carol, were held just by their reins. More of them were locked into hip harnesses which were firmly attached to shafts that jutted out of the robots hanging from the ceiling.
The scene, thought Jenny, looked like unbridled chaos. Well, she giggled, bridled chaos. �Why don�t they bump into each other?�
�There�s a routing computer,� Daphne said. �It doesn�t have to work all that far ahead; they�ve got to learn to respond to the reins doing sudden starts, stops and turns anyway. The scheduler is random; there�s no way they can predict what they�re going to be instructed to do next. The blindfolds keep them from getting scared and panicking. We take them off when they�ve absorbed the rein signals unconsciously. That lets us make sure they keep obeying the reins rather than try to figure out where to go.�
Jenny studied the scene in front of her. Carol, she thought, looked like she was getting into it. Her robot had her walking, legs pumping up and down rhythmically in the classic ponygirl high step.
�Let�s look at her brain scan.� Daphne touched a button and one of the 3-V monitors switched to what looked like a confusing mass of colored lines that flashed on and off disconcertingly.
�How�s that work?�
�That�s the brain scanner I mentioned. Looks like a mess, right?�
�Horrible mess,� Jenny agreed.
�Not quite that bad.� She touched a couple more buttons and most of the colors vanished, to be replaced by green, red and gray.
�Green is a signal that the activity is where it�s supposed to be, red is one that�s in the wrong place. Grey is parts that aren�t active at the moment. There, see that?�
A piece had just flashed red, and she had stumbled.
�Not quite.�
�The robot signaled for a turn, and it leaked into her awareness. She got confused.�
She paused a moment and flipped through a couple more screens, coming back to the brain scan. �That�s today�s lesson. Remember one thing: we never tell them what they�re supposed to learn. It doesn�t matter how well or poorly they did, they always did well. Your job is to build up her unconscious image that she�s a really good ponygirl. The more you build it up, the happier she�ll be and the better she�ll turn out. That�s the difference between her and Moonshine right now. Moonshine thoroughly enjoys being what she is, and by now she can�t conceive of being different. That ability has been conditioned out of her.�
She thought a moment, and then switched the views back to the inside of the now-empty cage.
�She won�t be back for close to an hour, so you�ve got time to start learning your next task, which is how to provision the servicing machines. They have to be cleaned and provisioned every four uses, and that means what?�
�Um.� Jenny thought a minute. �You said 20 ponygirls four times a day, so that would be 20 reprovisions a day?�
�Got it. We�ve got four servicers waiting. Take a quick break and then I�ll show you how to do one. After that, Carol should be ready to be unharnessed and put back in her cage, so you�ll do that and then we�ll do the rest of the servicers. That�ll be your job until you qualify at level 2. That and Carol, of course.�
�Uh, where?�
Daphne laughed. �We�re not particularly modest. Just snap it in and let your wastes drain out.� She demonstrated by standing in front of a spot of wall that had a flexible tube coming out of it. She lifted her tunic skirt and snapped the end of the tube into the space between her legs and then stood quiet for a minute. Then she unsnapped the tube.
Jenny blushed and then shrugged. It was, after all, the same way she�d been emptying her wastes since her catheter valve and chastity shield had been installed.
By the time they had finished cleaning and stocking one of the servicing machines, the robot had guided Carol to the shower and was waiting patiently, arm firmly attached to her collar. She took the ponygirl�s tack off and snapped a chain from a waiting shower rod to the ring on the front of the ponygirl�s collar.
The rod led Carol into the shower line. She marched in willingly enough; five minutes later she marched out the other end, looking a lot less wilted. Jenny replaced the shower chain with a leash and led her back to her cage.
The bottom slid out, and Carol sat down on command. The shackles snapped shut around her ankles and then the bottom slid into the cage, the front coming down to seal the opening.
Jenny looked in at her. Carol had apparently decided that nothing bad was going to come in through the front of the cage, and was sitting easily, legs spread and feet back in the standard position.
Jenny checked the back view. Her arms were pulled back and fastened at the elbows and wrists. She seemed to be playing with her nascent tail.
�Good session,� she complemented her ex-schoolmate. Then she headed back to the room. There were more servicing machines to clean and stock.
�The next piece,� Daphne said a bit later, �is to take her to the exerciser. Since this is her third day, she�s already been twice, so it�s not going to be a surprise. However, we�re going to have to stand over her for the entire session. That�s the real time eater for new ponygirls.�
Carol seemed to be a bit more relaxed than when Jenny had first seen her. Not as good as when she�d left after the ponygirl exercise, but not really huddled in the back either.
�We bring her out first?� Jenny said, studying the control unit.
�Right.�
Jenny pressed the button, and the cage door slid up and the bottom slid out.
�Before we unsnap the shackles, you need to put on the hobbles,� Daphne told her trainee.
Jenny looked around and found the hobble chain. Then she looked at the seated girl. The base seemed to have an extra slot just above where the built-in shackles pinned her ankles to the material. Jenny slipped the hobbles into place and then stood up, looking at the controls. �This one?�
�Leash first.�
�Oh, right.� She snapped the leash on Carol�s collar and then pressed the button to withdraw the shackles.
�Up, girl!� she commanded. Carol scrambled to her feet. �Good girl!� she praised her ex-schoolmate.
�Now this way,� Daphne said, setting down the corridor. Jenny followed, leading Carol. The trainee ponygirl followed willingly enough, the hobble chain making a soft sound as it shifted with her footsteps.
�This,� Daphne said, �is the exerciser.� They had stopped in front of a booth which looked like a cross between a squid, an octopus and a Lovecraft nightmare.
�So that�s the Tentacle Monster.�
�Aptly named isn�t it? We�ve got three of them in each cell, which would be overkill if they weren�t breaking down all the time. Fixing them is a night shift job.
�Now what we need to do is bring her forward and attach the tentacles and sensors. The tentacles are like octopus or squid tentacles: they can create joints just about wherever the computer wants, so it can exert pressure or resistance in almost any direction. It�s a lot more flexible than the usual resistance sets. The pieces are marked; it�s almost impossible to get them wrong as long as you�re paying attention and you�ve done it a few times.�
Jenny picked one up and almost dropped it in surprise. The thing had followed her movement! She looked at it curiously. This one had a cuff and several smaller variously colored wires ending in what looked like flat coins. It also had a diagram of an arm, with a black arrow pointing to the wrist and colored arrows pointing to other locations. She snapped it onto the ponygirl and then picked up the next one.
Even though Daphne corrected her a few times it only took about ten minutes to have Carol festooned in tentacles.
�Now the hard part,� Daphne said as she pressed the go button. The demonic device pulled Carol into the booth and seemed to try to pull her feet out from under her while she resisted.
They watched her struggle for a couple of minutes. Then Daphne said: �She�s almost totally focused on her muscles and sensations. She has to give it her complete attention or it�ll tie her up into a pretzel. Even if she wanted to, she�s not paying any attention to us or what we�re saying, which gives me a perfect opportunity to fill you in on this sequence while you can see it happening.
�The sequence is about flexibility and, to some extent, power. This part of it trains her in muscle group isolation; that is to use the right muscles, and only those muscles, for each exercise. Once she�s learned that, stage 3 will teach her voluntary control of each muscle group and also isometrics, and stage 4 will teach her how to use simple things like boards, pipes, pulleys, ropes and weights to keep herself in balance.
�It�s not about raw power, stamina or grace. She�ll gain some power and some stamina, and of course using the right muscles is one of the basics for graceful movement. We use the treadmill for strength and stamina.
�The training issue is that she doesn�t really know how to isolate muscle groups properly. If she doesn�t use the right muscle groups for an exercise, the exerciser will try a couple of times and then move on. It marks it for our attention, and we�ll go through it with her next time and show her how it�s done.
�Some girls are better, some are worse, but we�ve never had one that could do it perfectly at the beginning, and we�ve had quite a few that couldn�t do all of them by the time we sent them to the next stage.�
Daphne touched a couple of buttons, and one of the displays lit.
�This is a list of what she hasn�t been able to do properly. The training AI tries to put it into the most efficient order for us to address, and the night shift reviews it and frequently makes changes or adds comments. We don�t have time to do everything each time, and it wouldn�t work if we tried; she�d just get confused on a muscle memory level. We always work on the top two. Once she can do them, those will drop off the list.�
She spent some time working with the girl caught in the web of tentacles, showing her how one simple movement should be done, moving the limbs back and forth and pressing on various muscles and nerves until she managed to do it properly.
�That�s complicated,� Jenny said as the two of them watched Carol struggle against the tentacles that imprisoned her from all directions.
�It is. There are some basics you need to have internalized. Then there are very thorough diagrams for each of the muscle groups and the most common problems. That�s enough to get you to level 1 on task. Getting to level 2 requires that you be able to mirror and duplicate how she�s doing it so you know how it feels and what needs to be done differently. That means you�re going to spend an hour a day in one of these things until you�ve got the isolation down properly, and then I�m going to train you on the voluntary control and isometrics.�
Jenny frowned. �It�s beginning to make some sense.�
�Ah, there you are,� the voice said outside of Jenny�s study cubicle the next morning.
�Huh?� Jenny jerked around to see a stubby blonde looking at her.
�I�m Petra, the first shift supervisor. You�ve got a task coming up.�
Jenny shook her head.
Petra laughed. �There was one thing that Melissa didn�t show you, because she wanted you to see it with pony 96. That�s the treadmills. She�s about due for her pulling session.�
�OK.� Jenny slid out of the cubicle.
�So let�s see you get her harnessed.�
Jenny checked the top of the cage. �Let�s see. Bring her out first, then leash and hobbles.�
�Right.�
Jenny pushed the button that brought the ponygirl who had been Carol out on her platter. She put on the hobbles and attached the leash to her collar ring and a ring on the wall between cages. Then she released the ankle shackle.
�Up!�
Pony 96 stood easily as Jenny fastened the hip harness, headstall, bit and reins. She got the pony into her boots with a bit of difficulty; she had to take the hobble off and replace it.
�Pretty smooth,� Petra told her. �The treadmills are this way.�
Jenny looked at the pony and decided to use the reins. She stepped behind the girl and took them in one hand. �Step!� she commanded as she gave them a flick.
Carol started a moment at the command, but then began high stepping down the corridor, Petra leading the way.
�Take treadmill 3.�
�OK.� Jenny guided her pony to the front of the device and then looked at the two mills on either side. Both had ponygirls in them, harnessed to shafts and pulling toward the corridor.
The controls turned out to be on a little pedestal to the right of the treadmill. She pushed the extend button; the shafts and the rein holder moved smoothly out into the corridor. She hitched the �girl to the shafts the way she�d done Swifty many times before, and clipped the reins to the waiting holders.
She attached the signal cable to the girl�s collar and pushed the start button.
�Back!� the machine said.
Carol shoved carefully back, until she had brought the shafts out of the corridor.
The machine shook the reins. �Step!�
The ponygirl brought her left leg up in a high step, her hips and the muscles of her right leg clearly showing the effort she put into pushing against the moving floor.
�Good,� Petra said. �I want to see you do this a couple more times before I certify you for level 2. We don�t need to keep watching; the computer will buzz us if she�s in any trouble. What happens at the end?�
�Um. There should be an alert on my screen. I take her off, run her through the washer and put her back in her cage.�
�Right. Back to study a bit more.�
�Time to see a transfer in,� Daphne told her trainee. Jenny followed her mentor to what seemed like the only door to the unit.
Daphne led the way to the outside door. A minute later it opened, and a guard walked in leading the new ponygirl on a leash.
�Here she is.�
�One ponygirl. Check.�
The guard waved and left, leaving Daphne with the leash.
Jenny looked at their new trainee. She looked scared, or at least Jenny thought she might be scared. The way the jaw block distorted her face made it hard to tell her expression. She had her arms cuffed behind her, and wore heeled sandals. Otherwise she was totally naked except for the collar. It didn�t have a name, which was usual.
�Come along,� Daphne told her, giving the leash a gentle tug. The girl followed easily, but then she should. Being cuffed and on a leash was hardly a new experience.
Jenny watched as one of the workers in cell 1 installed her in her cage, and then fussed a bit making sure that all the material was on the shelves. The last she saw of her, the servicing unit had rolled up and she was teasing the cock into rigidity.
Only two and a half days, Jenny thought, and it already seemed like she�d been here forever. Not that they�d dragged. On the contrary, they�d sped by. Even the six hours in the ponygirl cage yesterday had flown. She�d let her mind drift like she�d been told, and the time simply passed. The same thing happened with the rein training robot and with the Tentacle Monster. She focused on what she was doing, and ignored everything else.
�Time for your ponygirl,� Daphne said as she dropped by Jenny�s study cubicle. �You�ve got the procedure memorized?�
�Uh, yes.� She hesitated. �Is there a reason why they have to be scared?�
Daphne shrugged. �Not really. Nobody works with them during stage one. Some of us try to gentle them down a bit, the rest of us don�t bother. They�ll train up fine either way. Your preference.�
Well, Jenny thought, she�d have to see now that she was facing the door. It opened just as the butterflies in her stomach seemed to be doing a mating dance.
�Here�s your new girl,� the guard said, handing her the leash.
Jenny looked at her as she took the leash. The ponygirl looked back; her eyes widened in astonishment.
Oh Goddess, Jenny thought. It�s Ronnie! We�ve known each other for what, ten years? I can�t let myself look panicked, a small panicked voice said. Shut up! She told it firmly.
�My first trainee,� she said brightly. �Come along, let�s get you settled.� She turned and tugged on the ponygirl�s leash. The ponygirl that had been Ronnie followed gracefully.
�Here we are,� she said soothingly as she stopped the girl with a gesture and pushed the button that slid the tray out of cage 97. �You should know the drill by now. Slide out of those sandals and sit.�
Ronnie looked at the tray and gave the minute shrug that was all her pinioned arms allowed. She kicked the sandals across the aisle and positioned herself on the tray. Jenny pushed the button, and the tray slid back, carrying the ponygirl with it.
�Now let�s check that all the material is here,� Daphne said. They spent a few minutes looking over the supplies on top.
�What do you think?� Daphne asked, gesturing at the display of the new ponygirl�s brain patterns.
�Um,� Jenny said thoughtfully as she pushed a button. �Less red than 96. She�s coming along nicely.�
�Very. She�s still listening, but she�s not letting it affect her.�
�That�s this piece here, right?� Jenny pointed at one section that flashed red as each of them spoke.
�Right. And this is?�
�She�s starting to feel hungry?�
�Right on target. Here comes the servicer.�
�I think I�m going to let it handle her,� Jenny said as they stepped back.
�Any particular reason?� Daphne asked in a low voice as it rolled up to the front of the cage and said �Kneel!�
Ronnie�s head popped out of the cage, her breasts sticking out of the front. A moment later she attacked the faux cock with every evidence of enthusiasm.
�She�s getting into it.�
�She had a real reputation as a cocksucker. Now that I think of it, that may be why nobody picked her; she�s got too much of a reputation for playing the field. What I don�t understand,� she added in a low voice, �is why she�s here at all. Her grades were pretty good. Not super, but still pretty good.�
�According to the dossier, she had a pretty vicious temper.�
�Surely that isn�t enough?�
�Well, it wouldn�t have been, but she got rejected by all the senior worker schools. Then she threw a real tantrum when she had to go to Hey Girl!�
�It might have been calculated.�
�Oh?�
�She absolutely did not want to be a collared worker.�
�That I don�t understand. Most collared worker jobs are pretty cushy. Do what you�re told the way you�re trained and enjoy yourself on your time off.�
�Doing what you�re told wasn�t one of her strong points.�
�Obviously. Well, it looks like she�s done.�
�Pretty well done,� Jenny said as she saw the ponygirl�s head tilt back and heard her gasps.
Once the climax shuddered to a finish Jenny moved in to stroke her head. �Good girl! Hold in there and you�ll be one of the best ponygirl�s we�ve ever turned out.�
Jenny couldn�t quite tell, but she thought the staccato breathing indicated a giggle. She pushed the button that released the top. �Sit!�
The ponygirl that was now known simply as 96 slid back and sat with a thump.
�You�d never pass,� Ginny told her.
�You think hiding at the taxi stable is a bad idea?� Audry replied.
�Not really, but you can�t pass as a ponygirl just by taking your clothes off! People do pass, but it takes a lot of work to do the disguise. And it can�t be done in one step.
�The first part is to install the brain scanner and change your hair style. You can learn how to act while the coat grows. Once you�ve got that down you can get the rest of the disguise.�
�What did you do to your hair?� Darlene asked.
�It�s a pony mane,� Audry answered.
�That�s stupid!�
�I think it�s cute,� Francine demurred. �Or it will be when the rest grows out.�
�But why?� Darlene asked. �It looked better the other way.�
�Finger to the establishment,� Francine declared. �I wish I had the guts.�
Audry answered with a smile.
�You gotta be kidding,� Daphne said into the phone loudly enough that Jenny overheard her.
�Jenny,� Daphne said after she disconnected. �You�ve got an appointment with one of the big shots in an hour. Get yourself cleaned up and be at the outside door in 45.�
�I thought you said...� Jenny replied.
�So I did. Don�t worry, you�re not in trouble.�
�What�s it about?�
�They forgot to tell me.�
�Oh.� Jenny headed for her servicing station.
�You�re Jenny, right? I�m Shela,� the young woman outside the door said, rather than asked. She wore a collar and Reliable�s uniform tunic. In other words, an office worker. The mid-thigh skirt length proclaimed her to be one of the faceless horde of collared workers that had a reasonably easy life if she did what she was told promptly and cheerfully the way she was trained and otherwise minded her own business and didn�t cause trouble. A business that, unfortunately, didn�t involve men, marriage or children.
�Uh, yes. What�s this about?�
�The bosses are in an uproar about something that came down this morning, and you�re in the middle of it. Other than that I haven�t a clue.�
She giggled. �It sounds like they haven�t got one either. They brought in someone from Hey Girl! to help them make sense of it.�
�Well, let�s find out, shall we?�
Sheila led the way out of the building and to a waiting ponygirl taxi. She took the reins herself, and expertly guided the girl down a number of paths until they arrived at an office building. Then they went down another maze of corridors until they arrived in a comfortable office space. She showed Jenny into a small conference room.
Jenny looked at the man at the head in slight amazement; it had to be Ray Stevens, who was the plant manager for Reliable�s plant 7.
�Startled to see me, Ms. Jackson?� Ray said. He made a gesture to Sheila. She closed the door and slid a chair out for Jenny.
�Daphne said I had a meeting with a higher-up, but I didn�t expect quite this high.�
�Daphne�s your unit manager? No reason she should have known. This is a highly unusual situation, and I try to make it a policy to learn from unusual situations. The last time this happened in this plant I was out of the direct line of responsibility, and I didn�t find anything in the files. We had to call over to Hey Girl! for help in getting things organized.� He nodded to a woman wearing the Hey Girl! uniform.
�To cut right to the central issue, you�ve been the beneficiary of a late pick, and you�re headed to college. Tomorrow. Jill, will you put her in the picture while we take notes?�
�You�ve most likely never heard of a late pick for college, right?� the Hey Girl! representative started.
�I think I�ve heard of a couple, but I thought they were unusual,� Jenny answered cautiously.
�Well, they are and they aren�t. About 1 in 10 college bound girls manages to wash out in the first few months. There are a lot of reasons ranging from dying through becoming a second wife, to discovering that she�s just not suited for college. When that happens the next most suitable person from her graduating class is selected.�
Jenny nodded.
�The candidate list is never published, partially because it really isn�t a list, and partially because publishing it would cause a lot of confusion. It�s better that the people headed for senior worker positions commit to doing well there rather than dithering hoping that they�ll get a late pick. It�s even more important for the ones near the top of the list that wound up in collared worker slots.�
�There isn�t a list?�
�There really isn�t. The requirements for a teacher aren�t the same as for a nurse, and neither is really close to, for example, a research scientist, which is not really close to an engineer, although it�s closer than the other two. Your school had fifty slots divided among a number of general categories. Nobody really knows who they�re going to go to until the boys get done choosing their wives, and they don�t always know that until the last minute.
�You were very close to being selected; if there had been one more opening in any of three categories, you would have made it.
�Which brings up why you�re here at Reliable in a collared worker slot rather than somewhere else being trained for a senior worker slot. The various senior worker training schools have their own criteria, and they don�t always take everyone in the senior worker pool. Most people left after the interview process come over to us for collared worker training.
�Reliable prefers to start its manufacturing workers out right away without getting them from us, so they look at the lists as well, and had you marked because of your personality quirk. That same personality quirk meant that nobody else wanted to take a chance, so you were routed straight through.
�Which brings us back to how we handle late picks. There are a lot of them. We get a steady stream because we get what�s left of the senior worker candidates, and because of our size we�ve got the process set up and well practiced. Some of the larger senior worker training firms have enough to have their own process; many of the smaller ones have us handle it for them. Reliable has very few late picks, mostly because they don�t usually take manufacturing trainees from the senior worker candidate pool.�
�So they brought you in.�
�Exactly,� Ray said. �It�s not worth it to set up our own process. What concerned me was that nobody knew what to do when the notice came in last night.�
�I think I see,� Jenny answered. �So what happens next?�
�Well, there�s a little ritual,� Jill said, taking a tool out of her purse. �Get your hair out of the way.�
Jill walked behind her. A moment later Jenny felt the jerk as the rivet remover took the rivet out of her collar. Jill removed it and handed it to her.
Jenny turned it over in her hands. �I never expected to see it from this angle,� she shook her head.
�I did,� Sheila said, �for about an hour.�
�Oh?�
�Hey Girl! makes sure its trainees know that it�s possible to move from collared worker to senior worker trainee, and they make sure they know both how much work it takes to prepare and how unlikely it is.� She shrugged. �If you want to get hit by lightning you stand out in the rain. I�m taking courses I find interesting, but it�s still darned unlikely.�
�True,� Jill said. �Jenny, you�re heading off to college tomorrow with three other girls from three other trainers. One of them�s ours. You�ll be taking a rental four engine roadster and turning it in when you arrive. You�ll be in charge; two of the others aren�t really take charge types and the third won�t have been briefed.�
�You, on the other hand,� Roy put in, �seem to have a good start on the air of command.�
�Late picks,� Jill continued, �are the same as graduation: it�s a total break. As far as your coworkers are concerned, you�ll simply vanish. The other three in your group will be notified tomorrow morning after breakfast and hustled off premises to the rental car agency.
�We�ll spend this afternoon shopping for kit while I fill you in on what you need to know to connect with college; you can fill the rest of them in while you�re on the road. You�ll spend tonight in a hotel.�
�I don�t get to see my family?�
�No. You can call them after you get settled in college. That�s policy.�
Audry looked at herself in the mirror. As far as she could tell, a ponygirl looked back. Whoever had done the work on the tail and leggings had done an excellent job; she couldn�t tell that they were fakes. She swished the tail; it definitely looked real. Her mouth twitched, but she didn�t grin. The jaw prosthesis kept her from making most human facial gestures, or at least making them recognizably.
The registry number tattooed on her belly looked authentic. Shelly had assured her that it had gone into all the records; only a really top level check would show her up as a fake.
She took a small tool and inserted it into her mouth, and then took the jaw prosthesis out. She followed it by removing the throat unit. Then she detached her tail and carefully rolled her leggings off of her legs.
The image that looked back at her now looked like a girl with a mane. She nodded in pleasure.
She got dressed, packed her stuff in a backpack, and left the room.
�Is everything satisfactory?� the nurse asked.
�Very,� Audry smiled at her.
�Good luck,� the nurse said as Audry waved goodbye and left.
�Little idiot,� the nurse muttered after she was sure Audry couldn�t hear her.
Jenny walked out of the hotel, her brand new luggage trailing behind her on a leash like a well trained puppy. She shook her head to clear the daze and remind herself that yesterday had really happened.
All she had to do to remind herself was look down. The collar no longer adorned her neck; after three months wearing it she almost felt naked without it. She still felt a bit awkward in her new outfit; as much as she�d lusted after the student professional look, she�d never had an opportunity to wear the total ensemble. The Reliable Ponygirl and Engine Trainer�s badge on her jacket announced that she already had a corporate affiliation.
Her heels clicked on the sidewalk as she walked to the taxi kiosk. She put her card in the slot and punched in the destination. Two minutes later a ponygirl with an empty carriage trotted up to the curb, prettily showing her high step. Jenny slung the bags into the back and slid into the seat. As soon as she pressed go, the two little levers that held the ponygirl�s reins shook and guided her out into the traffic.
Jenny sat back to watch the flow. It was incredible how different it seemed after the last three months working in the ponygirl manufacturing process. Before, it just happened. Today she admired the way her ponygirl flowed with the movement the traffic computer had choreographed.
All too soon it was over. Her taxi pulled up in front of the rental car agency. She looked around and spotted three bewildered looking girls wearing the same student professional style she wore. One had the Hey Girl! badge on her jacket, the other two had badges she didn�t recognize. Her eyes narrowed slightly. She thought she recognized the one with the Hey Girl! badge.
�You�re Beth, Fran and Tracy, right?�
�Um, yes. You�re Jenny? Don�t I recognize you?� Beth, the plumpish blonde, asked.
�I think we were in the same class. Let�s get our roadster and get moving, girls. Have any of you been trained in engine care?.�
�I was,� Fran stuck her hand up.
A few minutes later, admin done, an attendant pulled a late model touring sedan up to the curb and helped them load the luggage.
�Let�s get your engines next. Hop in.� He pulled the sedan around to an engine loading bay. Four naked women stood in a line, their collars chained to a neck high horizontal bar that would let them be taken off in order. They were all cuffed, hobbled and hooded. The identity tattoo above the fertility indicator tattoo provided entirely unnecessary confirmation. They couldn�t, Jenny thought, be anything but engines.
�You know how this goes?� he asked.
Both Jenny and Fran said yes.
�So show me,� Jenny told Fran.
�We start by opening the engine compartment.� She pulled the side panel up from behind the passenger compartment, revealing two pairs of empty engine mounts, each angled at about 45 degrees.
�We set the stabilizer bar so we don�t roll. These things are heavy enough that I�m not sure how we could roll, but it�s a safety precaution so we do it.� She set the bar so that the car wouldn�t tip over.
�Next we pull the first rack and do a visual inspection that all the attachments look intact.� It came sliding out smoothly. �We tilt it vertical. It�s best to install the inside engine first.� She pulled the girl from the dispenser by the chain on her collar and deftly guided her so she stood in front of the left rack.
�Now we slide the rack down so it matches her height. Since this is a manual mount we use the tattoo on her shoulder. You can do it by eye if you�ve got the experience, but you don�t get that unless mounting and unmounting them is your job. We also make sure the headrest and the handles are positioned properly as well.�
She twirled several knobs, bringing the rack down a few inches and moving the headrest slightly. �Since she can�t see, we have to guide her a bit.� She gently pressed the girl on her back, causing her to step forward hesitantly until she was firmly pressed into the device.
�Now we strap her in, making sure that the straps are tight but don�t bind. Then we put her arms on the controls.� She disconnected the arm shackles. The engine brought her arms forward and rested them on a pair of horizontal handles that were festooned with little buttons and levers. Fran snapped a short chain to each wrist cuff.
�Now we make the top connections.� She connected a dangling wire to the engine�s control collar, and then plugged a thin tube into the matching valve in the front of the engine�s hood.
�This is where we do the first system check.� She pressed a button on the control panel at the front of the engine compartment. The engine�s hands twisted the controls for about fifteen seconds, and then the green light came on.
�What�s it doing?� Tracy asked as Beth looked on, an expression of sick fascination on her face.
�The computer put a random stream of command images and sounds into her eyepieces and earplugs, and checked that she did the correct things to the handlebar controls. It also shot a bit of fuel into her stomach and checked that the brain scan matched what she was supposed to be doing.
�Now that we�ve got the top, we do the bottom.� She touched the inside of the engine�s thighs and the girl obediently spread her legs to the width of the hobble.
�We need to position the waste tube on the seat so that when we bring it up the tube matches her catheter valve and supports her properly. The seat supports enough of her weight to keep her from sliding and the straps from binding.� She touched up a control and then swung the seat into place. Then she connected another wire to the engine�s chastity shield.
�The final piece is the objective of the entire exercise. We start by adjusting the pedals so they�re positioned properly for this particular engine.� She adjusted a couple more knobs, moving the pedals both up and in, and then locked them into place. �Now we put her feet on them.� She unclipped the hobble and hung it on the back of the engine compartment. Then she gently brushed the back of the girl�s leg, and it obediently bent so she could slide it into the boot that was fixed to the pedal.
�So that�s how it works,� Jenny said.
�Yes. The second system check is next.� She touched another button and the engine�s legs started pumping, moving faster and slower. She stopped after about fifteen seconds when the green light came on.
�That checked the stimulators?� Tracy asked.
�That and it also partially emptied her bladder and bowel. We need to make sure the waste tube is properly connected or we�re going to either have some real unhappy engines or a very smelly mess in the engine compartment.�
�Great!� Jenny said as the attendant nodded. �I�ll do the next one.�
Five minutes later the second engine had been installed beside the first.
�That�s your first one?� the attendant asked.
�First one doing the whole thing. I�ve qualified on engine mount trainers with the automatic adjusters. I�ve only done sims with the tattoos and manual controls.�
�Still darn good. It took me about 20 tries to get that smooth.�
�Thank you,� she replied, glowing a bit at the praise.
�Now,� Fran took up the narrative again, �we tilt the rack, slide it in, and make sure that the pedals are properly connected to the generators. Then we do system check 3.� She pushed a button and the two engines writhed on the rack as Beth looked on, bugeyed.
�That�s making sure that everything is tight and isn�t going to shift. It also injected some more fuel and dumped some more wastes.
�All the racks are exactly the same,� Fran said, gesturing at Jenny to pull the rack out and get it positioned.
�Wouldn�t automatically adjusting racks be better?� Tracy asked as they finished.
�They�re twice as expensive,� Fran answered. �They don�t put them on rental cars because the agencies have got good looking guys to do it.�
The attendant chuckled as he checked the setup.
�They save some time,� Jenny added, �But they don�t let a complete novice do it. You�ve still got to strap her in, put in the seat, make the connections and put her feet on the pedals.�
�Looking good, ladies. Turn them on.�
Jenny studied the panel for a moment and then turned the on switch. The check engines light came on. The engines writhed for a moment, testing each part of their bonds. The check engines light went off as they settled down, pumping the pedals slowly.
�Good. Close her up and you can get on the road.�
Audry walked up to a taxi kiosk and punched in her destination. The kiosk read her faked identity off of her collar and routed a ponygirl taxi to her. A minute later she was on her way.
The taxi stable was an enormous building that took up a good part of a city block. She looked at it as they approached, and grinned. It wasn�t a nice grin. Home, sweet home, she thought. Invisible right under their fucking noses.
She wandered into a busy fast food concession on one corner of the building and picked up a small snack. Then she went back to the facilities and walked through a door marked Authorized Personnel Only.
The office and lockers on the other side were just like she�d been told. Locker 6 opened to her touch. She changed quickly, shedding her collared worker outfit and putting on her ponygirl disguise. She looked in the mirror, swished her tail, and walked out the other end through another Authorized Personnel Only door.
She caught her breath at the sight. Ponygirls everywhere! Well, she straightened her shoulders, it was showtime, and she�d better mingle like she knew what she was doing.
�The whole ponygirl and engine thing bothers me,� Beth said once the car had pulled out onto the road, headed toward J-41 and the mountains.
�What about it?� Jenny asked from where she shared the front seat with Fran.
�Why do we do it?�
�We have alternatives?�
�I�d think we�d find something more, human, to do with them.�
�Well,� Jenny said slowly, �I had to study a whole lot of background that�s not in any history course they taught me in school. It starts off, of course, with the DNA bomb.�
�That�s ancient history! It was what, three centuries ago? There�s five of us girls for every boy. Guys like to screw around. Why not give each of them five wives and have done with it?�
�Beth,� Jenny said slowly, shaking her head, �Wives work in the home. A wife�s job is raising kids, keeping the house in good order and keeping her husband happily productive. One man can�t support five wives unless he�s somewhere near the top of the upper crust. Think about it. If one of the guys had asked you to be his wife, would you have accepted?�
�Of course I would...� Beth dribbled off.
�So would any woman who�s wired normally. We don�t need that many wives, and society needs the labor. We�re headed off to be Professionals because no guy wanted us and there are professional jobs that need a woman�s approach, and there are more women in the professions than men anyway.�
�I think what she�s getting at is the ponygirls and engines.�
�I�m not sure I understand it completely. What I read looked like it shaded an awful lot. What I was told is that there are several issues, and the big one is competition for men. Women are wired so that we want children and a man to support us while we raise them. Since the DNA bomb, there simply aren�t enough men to go around. If we left it for free choice, we�d have a morass of backbiting, undercutting, character assassination and other unlovely habits that would totally foul the efficient working of society.
�Not to mention that, given a free choice, women tend to pick a nice, caring and supportive male for a husband, and then promptly go behind his back to get knocked up by the most testosterone-soaked alpha male they can find when they�re fertile. With the enthusiastic cooperation of that testosterone-soaked alpha male.
�That�s why the chastity shields came into use after the Reorganization. If you�re not wearing a collar, you can have sex with any guy you want when you�re not fertile but you can�t take it off when you�re in your fertile period. If you are wearing a collar your owner can keep you from having sex with anyone but him when you�re fertile.�
�Owner?� Beth asked. �Wives don�t have owners.�
�Owner, husband, whatever,� Tracy answered. �You listed the guys you liked, but he�s the one that picked you, he�s the one that riveted the collar around your neck and it stays there until one or the other is cremated. The collar says you�re devoted and obedient. He�s in control, and you do what he says. That spells owner to me, and so what? If I�d have been picked it would have been �rivet that collar around my neck and let�s see how fast you can get me pregnant�.�
�Right on,� Fran said enthusiastically.
�It�s also why marriage is permanent,� Jenny continued. �It doesn�t matter if he�s got a dozen admirers that would love to replace his wife or even if he wants to replace her with one of them; it�s not going to happen. Everybody knows it, which still doesn�t entirely stop the trickle of women into the engine ranks who tried to displace a legal wife.
�The marriage courses go into compatibility; they try to make sure he picks a girl whose personality is compatible so they�ll support each other emotionally over the long term.
�Five women for every man would tear the whole thing apart. Three is barely sustainable; we sideline the other two as ponygirls and engines.�
�What if we switched it around?� Beth asked.
�Switch it around how? Women are wired to stay home, raise kids and get their man to bring home the resources. We don�t have to do that, but most of us would have dropped the chance at college and a professional career like a hot potato if we�d have been chosen. That�s why the guys pick their wives first. College and a professional career is second prize.�
�Believe it,� Tracy said.
�Although,� Jenny added thoughtfully, �a lot of wives get both.�
�Oh?� Fran asked.
�About half of the guys go to college, and they take their new wives with them. She can take classes, and most of them do. It�s encouraged. A college trained mother gives her daughters a much better chance of being in the professional or senior worker categories, besides being a better fit for a college trained husband. It also means that she�s got a natural entry into the professional or senior worker ranks after her brood is grown and has left.
�Anyway, for most of us the wife and mother slot is the prize, and if there is more than one woman officially in the household, they�re going to fight over it unless the roles are set in concrete. At least most of them will. I�m told the symbol for trouble in one of the picture languages is two women under one roof.�
Tracy laughed. �I�ve heard stories. It isn�t pretty.�
�But still,� Beth persisted, �how can anyone do that to someone else?�
�Maybe some background would help?� Fran said. �I worked with engines, and the one thing I can tell you is that they�re not suffering. Jenny?�
�Their brains have been programmed into a different functional pattern. It doesn�t include the language areas or higher centers, but otherwise it�s fairly complete. My family�s ponygirl, Swifty, was quite capable of taking care of herself. She did the yard work, did most of the light maintenance and kept a very pretty flower garden. The one thing she wasn�t doing was suffering.
�The engines back there have two functional patterns. One is the same as the ponygirls; most of the large companies use their engines to maintain their own quarters and a lot of the rest of the equipment.
�The other is the mounted pattern. That�s cut down to exactly what they need when they�re mounted. They don�t remember anything. The memories simply aren�t recorded. They don�t even have a sense of time.�
�I�ll second that,� Fran said. �It certainly seems like there isn�t a middle. You unmount an engine and the first thing she�ll do is explore. Unless she�s taken straight to a cage.�
�That�s how it works. Part of engine training is to get them used to the notion that when they�re unmounted they could be someplace different, and if it�s the same it could still be different.�
�You�ve said a functional brain pattern several times. What is it?� Beth asked.
�Maybe,� Fran said, �it could be this?� Her hands flashed over the controls, and then the display steadied to a very complex diagram.
�That�s it,� Jenny said. �This is for, um, our right front engine?�
�That�s her. They told me it was some kind of engine diagnostic that needed a specialist to read.�
�This one�s simple enough. That pulsing down here is the motor areas controlling her legs. So this has got to be the pacemaker.�
�It should be in the vagina.�
�It is. Then this is the visual area. She�s just scanning. There, see that? She just noticed something, categorized it, and decided that it wasn�t important.�
�Oh. She�s the one monitoring the road in front.�
�And this last thing is the auditory area. She�s listening to music, and it�s influencing her emotional state over here slightly.�
�And the rest of it�s gray?�
�Those are parts of the brain she isn�t using. A lot of them are parts she�s been conditioned against using, and the rest she shouldn�t be using while she�s installed.�
�I see. It�s got three sections that aren�t mixing.� Tracy said from where she was leaning over the seat. �That�s what makes her an engine. So what do the back engines look like?�
Fran pressed another button, and the same diagram popped up but with less activity.
�I see. She�s pumping away and listening to music, but there�s less activity in the visual area?�
�I think she�s generating visuals from the music,� Jenny said a bit hesitantly. �There�s nothing coming in from outside. That would be this here.�
�Interesting,� Tracy said. �I�m beginning to see why you two are so calm about treating them like pieces of equipment.�
�When they�re mounted, that�s what they are. It�s still a fairly complicated functional pattern, but it doesn�t add up to a viable organism.�
�What would a ponygirl look like?� Beth asked, fascinated by the display.
�We haven�t got one,� Fran answered.
�I could probably show you, but there�s no connection,� Jenny said at the same time.
�Huh?�
Jenny laughed. �Reliable trains all of their manufacturing workers as both ponygirls and engines. I can shift in and out of both patterns, and I�ve got a fourth pattern as well. However, we don�t have any way of hooking my brain monitor to the display here.�
�We might,� Fran said thoughtfully as she examined the instrument panel. �Right. Here�s the data socket. Now if they have it in the toolbox,� she ducked under the dash and rummaged around for a minute. �Got it!� she said, holding up her prize.
�What�s that?�
�It�s the transducer for a brain scanner. I have no idea why they pack it, but it�s one of the standard tools. Probably a backup if the one in an engine�s collar is malfunctioning.�
Jenny eyed the strap and cable cautiously. �OK. Put it on me. If it blows up...�
Fran laughed. �Hold your hair out.� She deftly wrapped the strap around Jenny�s neck and plugged the end of the cable into the dash. Her hands flashed over the controls.
�Wow! That�s lit up like a fireworks display!�
�That�s the normal state,� Jenny said, as the display shifted to show what parts of her brain were active moment by moment.
�Now let�s see if I can do this. Normally I have to install the throat and jaw prosthetics first.� She leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them she looked different.
�Yipe!� Beth said. �Half of it�s gone gray�.
�Not quite half,� Fran demurred. �There�s more active than I remember seeing. Jenny?�
Jenny didn�t react.
�She�s in ponygirl mode,� Tracy reminded them. �She can�t understand you.�
�Oh, right.�
Jenny suddenly took a deep breath and closed her eyes. A moment later she said: �I�m back. Did you see the difference?�
�There was a bit more active than I remember from the engines?�
�There should be. I was in interface, not in ponygirl mode. It�s got additional pieces that ponygirls and engines don�t have.�
�Interface?�
�That�s what lets me switch back and forth.�
�So you�ve been in ponygirl mode?� Beth asked, fascinated.
�Oh, yes. Mostly for three to six hours a day although for a day and a half several times. Part of my training was to go through the same training as the ponygirls.�
�What�s it like?�
�It�s hard to say. Language is missing and so is a lot of other stuff. The interesting thing is that you can�t really tell from inside that something�s missing, at least without specific training. I was beginning to see some of the things I could do in one state and not the other, but it was real slow going. Then I got sent off to college.�
�Oh.�
Tracy laughed. �I can imagine. I had an uncle who had a stroke that damaged part of his brain. Talk about frustrated!�
�Really.� Jenny giggled.
Beth thought a moment as Fran removed the interface cable and dove under the dash to put it away. �Why both ponygirls and engines?�
�You can train one person for both roles but they fill a different niche. Ponygirls are for short trips, engines provide power for long trips. They�re both useful for a lot more than their niche, but different people and companies own ponygirls and engines, and they have different needs and usage profiles.
�The full system expense for an engine is a lot higher than for a ponygirl. Individuals who buy a ponygirl usually have a couple of carriages for her to pull, a real small apartment for her to live in and some equipment for yard maintenance and other stuff she does. Large organizations like a taxi service or a commercial farm have light vehicles as well; they use battery electrics for anything heavy because they don�t need to go far.
�My family has a small cart, a racing sulky and a trap for Swifty. Mom uses the cart for shopping and to run around, and they use the trap for church and occasions where both of them have to attend. The carriages are good quality, but all three of them together cost about a tenth of what this vehicle does. All told, Swifty more than pays for herself.�
She nodded. �Engines go with vehicles that you�re going to drive a long way. There�s no point to using an engine if you�re going to go back to your home base in less than fifty miles or so; your battery will take you that far and you can recharge overnight. So engines are for trips like this, or that freight that passed us a few miles ago, or for rich kids that have more money than good sense.�
�So they do a lot more than just pull carriages or pedal generators?�
�Most of them do. Most people and companies are going to put them to whatever work they can find rather than keep them in a cage. It�s more efficient and keeps them happy. The big trucking companies sometimes keep part of their inventory in cages, but that�s because they�ve got more engines than housekeeping and maintenance work, not because they like to see them sitting in cages. If they could find work for them, they would.�
�They were training me for something that involved engines,� Fran added. �I suppose I�d have found out in a few more weeks what it was.� She giggled. �They were still making sure I knew how to install them and service them without getting all upset about what we were doing to the poor dears.� She paused a moment.
�What you said is about what I learned. Engines are, well, engines. They live in the engine room when they�re not mounted, and they�re always bound and hobbled when you take them out to mount them or put them back.�
�I know I�ve seen ponygirls do some really strange things,� Tracy added thoughtfully.
�Most ponygirls have some interesting capabilities that people don�t have with normal brain functional patterns. Swifty certainly did. You couldn�t explain what to do, you had to show her step by step. But once you did, she learned it almost instantly and then played around with it to find how it worked and if she could improve it.
�They�re fantastic at decorative gardens, but they�re worthless at agriculture. That seems to be because they can see what�s happening in a decorative garden, but they can�t connect food plants with anything real. If they can�t puree it for nutrients right then and there, it might as well not exist. They can�t make the connections through the social organization pieces.
�I can do some of the same things, but that�s because I�ve had my normal state reorganized. The girls I knew from before that went through my unit couldn�t have done any of them before they became ponygirls.�
�You knew some of the girls you trained?� Beth sounded incredulous.
�Of course. Two were in our graduating class, and one had gone wild a couple of months before. I got to the unit as a raw trainee a couple of days before they started trickling in, and I got to take them from when they came from Stage 1 to when we delivered them to Stage 3.�
�I couldn�t stand it,� a shaken Beth said, looking at Jenny as if she�d just arrived from Mars.
�Of course not,� Tracy patted her knee to reassure her. �How those two can I haven�t any idea.� She pulled Beth over to hold her for a while.
�Could you show me how to do it?� Fran asked after the pair in the back seat had dozed off.
�I doubt it. It takes us two months to stabilize the functional states, and we need to use the brain monitor. I don�t think you�ve got it installed.�
�I don�t. I didn�t even know what it was until you showed us. All they told me was it was a diagnostic, and connect it.�
�That�s how we can program them; we can see what�s going on and use stimulus and response feedback intelligently. It�s horribly complicated. I was qualified at level two for shift work, and learning level two for interpretation and adjustment.�
�Level two?�
�We had about two dozen tasks, and each one had four levels, zero through three.�
�Level zero is...�
�Keep your f-ing hands off without a trainer standing over you,� a sleepy voice said from the back.
�Huh?� Fran turned around to look.
�My dad was in manufacturing,� Tracy said, struggling to sit upright without disturbing a sleeping Beth.
�Level one is sufficiently qualified to do it if nothing goes wrong.�
�Right.� Tracy put in. �Level two requires you to know where it comes from, where it�s going, where it fits into the total picture, what can go wrong, how to spot typical supplier screwups so you don�t lose time on defective supplies, what problems defects will cause elsewhere, and how to set up all the machines that are involved. As well as fix the more common problems.�
�And three is for trainers. Our unit had three task groups. I had qualified at two for all the tasks in the first group, which let me take a shift without having to have a mentor. I was working on the second group, which would let me train a new worker, when I got pulled to go to college.�
�So installing the functional patterns in a new worker is in the second task group?�
�Right. Reading the diagram and knowing what it means is in the first group. Diagnosing discrepancies and working out corrections is in the second. The big boss thought I was well ahead of schedule. So did my mentor.�
�That�s still awful,� another sleepy voice proclaimed from the back.
�Awful or not, my daddy didn�t bring up his daughters to fight something they couldn�t change.� Tracy took a deep breath �Society has decided that they�re best used as ponygirls and engines. I�m not going to waste my time fighting it or ruin my disposition worrying about it.�
She took a deep breath. �So you mentioned the taxi system. How does it work? One of you has to know.�
Fran shrugged. �Not me.�
�It depends on what piece you�re looking at. The ponygirls do most of the housekeeping and maintenance. The traffic computer does the scheduling, and there�s a relatively small staff that handles anything the ponygirls or the computers can�t handle on their own.�
The car sped on through the early night, the four girls dozing lightly, interior lights turned off. Hundreds of stars looked down from the cloudless sky. A crescent moon shed a silvery light on the road and the forest, contrasting with the inky blackness farther in, and outshining the pale running lights on the car itself.
The display panels on the dash showed the road and the forest in true and false color as if it was daylight.
�There�s the turnoff,� Fran said a bit unnecessarily. �Exit 237.�
�About time,� Jenny answered from where her head rested nestled in the crook of Fran�s arm.
�We there?� a sleepy voice said from the back seat.
�Almost,� Fran replied.
The car moved smoothly off the ramp, onto the side road and pulled up in front of the motel office, all without any apparent guidance from its occupants.
Jenny pulled herself free and went to check in while the rest of the girls wrestled the luggage out of the back. She came back out and pressed the remote; their car slid noiselessly out of the office area and found a place in the parking lot.
�We�ve got rooms 138 and 140, with a connecting door,� Jenny told them.
�Aren�t you going to put the engines in the engine room?� Beth asked.
�No. They�ll be fine in the car overnight.�
�But that�s cruel!�
�Not really,� Fran answered. �They�re rated to stay installed for a week before they have to be taken out.�
�Besides,� Jenny added, �the batteries are down to 10 percent. They�re going to have to spend a couple of hours to get them back to full charge. Then the computer will put them to sleep. We�ll have a full charge and rested engines in the morning, and we won�t have to spend an hour unmounting and mounting them.�
�That�s still...� Beth showed her stubborn streak.
�They�re engines, Beth,� Tracy said. �That�s what they do. I�ll bet this place doesn�t even have an engine room. For guests, anyway. All the cars out there will leave their engines mounted overnight.�
�I didn�t see it on the list of amenities,� Fran agreed.
�Everybody does it doesn�t make it right,� Beth muttered, and then shrugged and picked up her luggage.
�Is this normal?� Beth asked as they dropped the luggage off into their connecting rooms.
�What?� Tracy answered, busy trying to find the traveling case with the comb, brush and all the rest of the necessities that she�d been told had been packed.
�These.� Beth held up a cuff attached to a post on one of the twin beds.
�Darned if I know,� Fran said. �This is the first time I�ve traveled without the �rents.�
�Well, we can experiment later,� Jenny said. �Right now food is next on the agenda.�
�Now what?� Beth asked as the girls gathered in their connecting rooms after dinner.
�Not much point in studying,� Fran said. �Unless you want to learn more about the care and feeding of engines,� she added a bit maliciously.
�I thought we might have some trouble figuring out what to do with ourselves, so I bought this,� Jenny held out her prize.
�A flaccid cock?� Tracy looked at the thing.
�It�s a cocksucking trainer. It goes on the front of the shield. The better the trainee does, the better both of them are stimulated. Of course,� she added with a wicked gleam, �it makes sure the trainee doesn�t orgasm until the target does.�
Fran and Tracy looked at each other.
�Hey!� Jenny exclaimed as they shoved her over onto the bed and fastened her wrists into the cuffs. A minute later they had their victim stripped and her legs fastened to the other end of the bed.
�Who?� Fran asked Tracy.
�Oh, no you don�t!� Beth exclaimed as they headed her way.
The poor girl didn�t have a chance. A couple of minutes later she was perched on the bed, staring at the flaccid cock.
�Well?� Tracy said. �Hurry it up, if it works I want to try it next!�
Beth stared at the faux appendage like she was hypnotized.
�You must have flunked cocksucking.�
�I took a pass,� Beth muttered. Then she put her tongue out and touched it.
�Oh!� Jenny gasped. �You�d better gag me, I tend to be noisy.�
�One gag, coming right up,� Fran said, rummaging in her luggage.
Beth slowly got up from where she crouched between Jenny�s legs. �Wowser!� Then she looked at Jenny, still shackled to the bed, with a gleam in her eye. �I wonder.� She slid down and looked. The cock was still erect. She took her shield off and carefully let the tip probe her labia. Then it slid in.
�Ahhh!� she gasped.
�Mmmmph� the still gagged Jenny responded.
Fran looked at the two sweat-soaked girls cuddling each other, and then looked at Tracy. �Hands?�
They put their right hands behind their backs and then brought them out. Both of them had their thumb up.
�Oh well. Flip for it?� Fran brought out a coin. �Heads I get to give head.�
�OK. Flip.�
They looked at the coin. �Let�s go.� They left a trail of discarded clothing into the other room.
�Last night was, um, interesting,� Beth said as the foursome had breakfast in the coffee shop.
�Jenny sure gets into it,� Fran said. �I don�t understand. How could you get through high school without learning to suck cock?�
�Good girls don�t do that,� she said primly.
Fran stared at her as Tracy looked at the ceiling.
�Well, they don�t.�
�Which is one reason why you didn�t get picked as a wife,� Jenny told her.
�Jess and Mary didn�t even kiss,� she replied.
Jenny stared at her. �You mean you didn�t know Jess is gay and Mary�s a lesbian?�
Beth�s open mouth answered her adequately. �Huh?� she said weakly.
�If they�d done anything more than a quick peck on the cheek, someone would have demanded a drug test.�
�So what are they planning on doing?� Tracy asked. �Inquiring minds want to know.�
Jenny shrugged. �Living together and raising kids. They don�t have to be in bed together. Even to get her pregnant. I didn�t get a chance to talk to them afterwards.�
�So they�re ready to go?� Beth asked as the four of them piled their luggage in the sedan.
�I told the computer to wake them up when we started breakfast.� Jenny slid into the left front and called up a display. Beth adroitly managed the other front seat, beating Fran to the honor.
�The right rear engine is a bit drowsy, but she�ll wake up when it starts her pumping.�
�Hey, the front is mine,� Fran said.
�Not any more,� Beth answered. �I get to sit next to my husband.�
�Your husband?� Fran looked at her like she�d suddenly arrived from Mars, complete with propeller beanie.
�I�m a good girl,� she proclaimed. �Good girls save it for their husbands. Since I sucked her cock last night and then got fucked, she�s got to be my husband.�
�But...� Fran looked stunned at this masterpiece of illogic while Tracy tried to keep from cracking up, and Jenny just looked confused.
�She�s got you,� Tracy giggled.
�I�d say she�s got Jenny,� Fran recovered.
�Don�t I get to say anything?� Jenny asked plaintively.
�You get to kiss the bride,� Tracy giggled again.
Jenny looked across and then pulled Beth in for a kiss. A couple of minutes later they pulled apart.
�I guess that settles who I�m rooming with,� she said.
�You�d better believe it, honey,� Beth answered.
�That clinch should have woken up the engines,� Fran said. �Let�s go.� She slid into the back next to Tracy and started checking the auxiliary displays.
�It�s still a bit drowsy.�
�Couldn�t you wake her up faster?� Tracy asked.
�Oh, I could, but I�m not going to. It�s one thing to rag Beth for being such a wimp about the way we treat them, and quite another to jolt them unnecessarily.�
�That�s more considerate than I expected,� Beth said.
�They�re engines, but that doesn�t mean they should be abused. If I had her for a while, and she kept being slow to come fully awake, I�d experiment to see what kind of stimulation would wake her up quickly with a minimum of distress. There are a lot of options, and some of them I�d regard as fairly pleasant if they happened to me.�
�So,� Beth said a bit hesitantly once they had started, �how did you decide whether a girl is going to be a ponygirl or an engine?�
�I didn�t,� Jenny answered. �I was in the ponygirl section; that decision had already been made when we got them. The training material said something about school record and tests, and more tests in stage 1 processing. They do some kind of a personality projection, and difficult personalities are more likely to become engines.�
She thought a moment. �Well, I do know one more thing you might not know. It isn�t one rank, top to bottom. You�re ranked for each of the possible slots. We all placed high enough for one of the college and professional slots that we were the obvious next candidate when one opened up. Being smart and doing well isn�t enough for college, although it helps, and being stupid isn�t automatically going to send a girl to be an engine or ponygirl, although it helps.
�So it would be possible to be high on several lists?�
�I�m told I missed three different slots by one. And I have this dark suspicion that I wasn�t that far from becoming an engine. Thankfully, I�m not prone to nightmares.�
�Huh?�
�When I arrived in the ponygirl manufacturing unit I worked in, the first thing my supervisor told me was that I had a personality quirk that make me ideal for their job, but that there were only three ways out of that complex: in a coffin, as a ponygirl, or to another assignment in the organization, and if I didn�t work out I�d find myself in a cage full time being trained. I�ve actually got most of the ponygirl mods installed; all that�s missing is the jaw and throat pieces, the hair and the tail, and she showed me how easy it would be to install those. Well, all but the jaw block. That�s surgery.�
�So you found a fourth way,� Fran giggled.
�Well, it found me. I got it explained in real excruciating detail that I would be in serious trouble if I let my personality quirk get outside of socially acceptable limits.�
�So what�s the problem?� Tracy asked.
�That�s between me and myself,� Jenny shot back. �It does put me in a bit of a quandary, though. I thought I wanted to be a teacher, but that�s one thing they�re not going to let me do. Among several others. So I haven�t settled on what to aim for.�
�Neither have I,� Fran said. �Working with the engines has changed me. What I wanted before seems so, um, futile.�
�I never thought I�d be here,� Tracy admitted. �I just wanted a husband and family.�
�I don�t know either,� Beth said. �There�s got to be something wrong with me to be so concerned about the engines.�
�Well,� Jenny said slowly, �at a guess, and this is a real guess, you try to put yourself in the other person�s place and imagine what they�re feeling. Right?�
�Doesn�t everyone?�
�Goddess no! I can�t imagine why I�d want to know what someone else is feeling.�
�That�s kind of extreme,� Fran said. �Although trying to empathize with the ponygirls and engines is, um, stupid.� Tracy nodded vigorously.
�How so?�
�What can you do with it?� Tracy asked. �empathy is useful; it keeps us together. Trying to get inside of an engine�s head is futile. You�re letting your imagination run wild. They�ve had so much stripped off that it�s like imagining what this car feels like.�
�I know I�d hate being a ponygirl.�
�On the contrary, you�d like it,� Jenny told her. �Or to be more accurate, you wouldn�t be able to either like or hate it because you wouldn�t be able to have any feelings about it at all.
�The first few weeks of training can be miserable if you�ve got a bad attitude about it, but after that she�s far enough into the ponygirl functional pattern that she�s lost the ability to have feelings about herself.�
�How do you know?� Beth shot back.
�I�ve been there,� Jenny answered. �Remember yesterday? I was far enough in training so I had spent two day-and-a-half sessions as a ponygirl, and one mounted as an engine. One of the reasons they do it is so we knew what it felt like. If anything, it�s seductive.�
Beth stared at her. �You did it too, didn�t you? I think I�d like to know what it�s like. I think. How do you do it?�
�I was trained the same way, just not as intensively. I spent three of my off shifts a week in a training cage and went through exactly the same routine as the girls we were training while I was in one. My supervisor used it to train me to get into the state, maintain it and then come out. You don�t have the scanner, and I don�t have more than a good start on learning the task.�
�Darn.�
Jenny shrugged.
�What�s it like to train them?�
�We don�t have the time to get to know any of them very well. We put them in the cages and leave them there except for rein training and strength and stamina training. Everything else happens while they�re in a cage, and it�s very thoroughly automated. You don�t get a chance to think while you�re on shift; you just go from one girl to the next and do the next task to her. You praise them for doing well at whatever it was and tell them they�re going to be outstanding ponygirls.
�By the time you�ve got an idea of who each girl is as an individual, she�s already far enough into being a ponygirl that who she used to be simply doesn�t register. She�s a ponygirl, and you relate to her that way.�
�It�d rip me up.�
�Of course it would love,� Jenny replied. �Nobody in her right mind would have you training them.�
Audry walked into the club and waved at the bartender. The bartender frowned at her. Another wild girl. Well, she had a bit of work, so she waved back, showing a credit chit.
Audry slid into a bar stool, and the bartender set her up with a glass of colored water. She slid a package across the bar. Audry dropped it into her purse without looking. A few minutes later, after nursing her drink and watching the video for a while, she slid off the stool and left, looking like just another collared worker following her owner�s orders.
�So this is it,� Jenny said as she and Beth got out of the taxi in front of the apartment building.
�It�s the number the office told us, anyway,� Beth agreed. �Let�s see what we got.�
They walked up the steps to the second floor. The door opened when Jenny held her card against the reader.
�You really should carry me over the threshold,� Beth giggled.
Jenny looked at her and then grinned wickedly. She picked up her plumpish apartment mate easily, walked in, and then put her down. She pulled her in, Beth putting her hands on her taller apartment�s mate�s shoulders.
�It�s now officially home,� Beth intoned once they�d untangled themselves.
�I guess it is,� Jenny agreed.
�You don�t look that happy,� Jenny said once they�d gone through it.
�It�s a bit higher maintenance than I�d like,� she answered.
�Oh?�
�You do know that a lot of women�s work is makework?�
�Really?�
�Really. Hey Girl! was training me to be a high class housekeeper or a second or third wife, and that was one of the lessons. The upper crust thinks that if you�ve got it, you flaunt it, and one of the things that lets them flaunt it is lots of servants. And that means lots of stuff to take care of. Efficiency means you�re not working hard enough.�
She shrugged. �They trained me both ways: how to do it the fast and easy way, and how to take my time and make it look like I was working hard. An apartment like this shouldn�t take more than an hour a day, and maybe three for weekly cleaning. If it�s set up properly, which this one isn�t.�
�We�ll share the work.�
�No, we will not share the work,� Beth said flatly. �You�re my husband, you do not do housework. That�s my job.�
�Aren�t you taking this husband and wife thing a bit far?� Jenny asked curiously.
�Well, maybe.� Beth giggled. �I meant it about being a good girl; that�s how I was raised, and it seems to be stuck in there hard. Hey Girl! was getting awfully tired of my refusing to do sex training; I think I got taken out just in time.
�I know it sounds crazy, but they never drilled in that a husband had to be a guy. They just assumed it, so it seems that�s the piece that gave. I can keep being a good girl, and I don�t have to deal with the obedience programming Hey Girl! stuck in my head either.
�If you want to balance my doing all the housework with your doing something else to contribute, go right ahead, but balance it with something that�s kind of husband-like. Please?�
Jenny looked at her and pulled her in for a hug. �Sure, honey. Being a husband is kind of new, I always wanted to be a wife!�
�Of course it is, and of course you did, and I know I�m imposing something awful, but still...�
Jenny hugged her new wife and shook her head slowly.
�Now,� Jenny said, �comes the hard part.�
�The hard part?� Beth asked as Jenny propped up the full sized reader on the table.
�The Mom call.�
�Oh! I�d better not. Dad will come right through the reader and kill me!�
Jenny giggled at the image. She stroked the back and then set it on the table. In a moment it cleared.
�Mom? It�s Jenny.�
The gasp on the other end was clearly audible. �What happened?�
�I�m at the university in Tenth City. Well, I�m in the apartment Student Services got for us.�
�Just a minute while I sit down! So tell me everything.�
Jenny laughed. �There isn�t that much to tell. Reliable took me as a manufacturing trainee, and then I got a late pick for college. So here I am. Beth and I are just moving in.�
�So you�re safe! Good!�
�Debbie will be frosted.�
�Do her good,� Sara answered. �She�s the worst of Swifty�s brood. Ester at least knows she doesn�t know everything.�
�True. I like Ester.�
�So do I. I hope she makes it. So what did Reliable have you doing?�
�I was in the ponygirl training process.�
�Training ponygirls?� Jenny could see her mother�s head tilt slightly to one side. �That�s something I�d never thought of for you.�
�Well, someone has to do it.�
�Too true. Maybe you could scare some sense into Debbie when you�re home for the holidays.�
�Scare Speedy? She doesn�t have the brains to be scared.�
�Too true,� her mother sighed. �Well, call again. I�ve got work to do.�
�Bye.�
�Come in,� the voice said from the depths of the office.
Jenny walked in with a bit of trepidation. The woman behind the desk had been collared and wore the university�s staff uniform. At the short distance the legend on the top of her collar was clearly visible. She was a wife who had joined the workforce after her children had all graduated, which didn�t reduce her authority in the least. In fact, it enhanced it a bit.
She didn�t get up to greet her new advisee.
�Have a seat. You�re Jenny Jackson and I�m Mrs. Langston. I�m your adviser. All right so far?�
�Uh, yes.�
�It�s good when everything goes the way you expect. So your trip here gave you time to settle a bit. It says you were doing some kind of manufacturing assignment with Reliable Ponygirl and Engine Training? I don�t think I�ve ever had anyone who worked for them. What was that about? I�ve got a list of tasks, but they didn�t put it together.�
�Manufacturing ponygirls.� Jenny tried not to laugh at her advisor�s expression. �It�s so highly automated and standardized that it really is more manufacturing than training.�
�So you already know more about them than most of us?�
�Somewhat. I had to read and pass tests on a lot of background. I was in the second stage. Our job was to train them in the ponygirl functional brain pattern and make sure they couldn�t stray outside of it, do initial rein training and do the initial work on the proper way to use their muscles. The rest happened downstream.�
�That settles your work assignment then. I�m putting you with the local taxi service, unless you want something different?�
�Uh. That�ll be fine.�
�Good.� She turned and made an entry in her reader.
�Now to your classes. Except for your personality quirk, you fit the profile for a teacher fairly well. There are some other things you could do, and you might want to go in one of those directions once you get a feeling for what they�re all about. I suppose you�ve been told that you won�t be allowed to be a teacher?�
�Right.�
�It�s not quite that simple. You certainly won�t be allowed to deal directly with children. However there are a lot of positions that are teaching which aren�t concerned with children, and you could do quite well in assignments where you come in, get people up to speed on whatever the subject is, and then leave.
�You could also do well in one on one settings with, um, recalcitrant subjects.
�Anyway, your courses. You do five a quarter. There are three required and two electives. For most of our students we�d explore interests to select electives, but you don�t really get a choice. You�ll be taking Introductory Anthropology and Introductory Psychology.�
�Oh?� Jenny asked.
�There�s a reason. They�re both prerequisites for the courses you really need. I�m not going to sugar coat it. You�ve been diagnosed as a borderline sociopath. It�s possible for that to work out, and work out really well in the right circumstances. If it wasn�t possible, you�d be halfway through engine training.�
Jenny tried unsuccessfully to suppress a giggle.
�That is not funny, young lady!�
Jenny recovered. �I am halfway through engine training. Well, maybe a third of the way.�
�What?�
�That�s one of the things Reliable does: I�ve been trained far enough to have spent a day and a half mounted as an engine. Once. Quite successfully: I looked at the monitor reports.�
Mrs. Langston shook her head in disbelief.
�They have their reasons. I know what being an engine or ponygirl is like from the inside, and it�s not at all scary. It�s also not me, and it�s not what I want to do with my life.�
�Which is, after all, the point I was trying to get across.� She paused to collect her thoughts.
�Borderline means that you can behave acceptably as long as you know what the rules are. You don�t have the innate sense of the boundaries the rest of us have, so you need to think about it, situation by situation.
�You�re moving out of childhood into adulthood, and the rules change. The course you need to take is Introduction to Contemporary Social Organization, but that requires Introductory Anthropology. CSO goes into a lot of detail about the fringes, why we allow girls to go wild, and why we allow a thriving market in off the record services. You need to know where the limits are, and you need to be able to keep yourself safely on the near side of the limits.�
She fixed her advisee with a basilisk stare. �Remember that crossing the limits is a quick trip to a lifetime peddling a generator.�
�Uh. Right.�
�The other course you need to take is Brain Organization For Therapists. That�s usually a graduate course for professional therapists, but you�ve got special permission to take it early. However, the faculty absolutely insists on your taking the introductory psychology course first.�
�I�m surprised.�
�About what?�
�I�d think the last thing they�d want me to be doing is conditioning someone.�
�Let�s look at that. There are legitimate uses, and there are, um, acceptable uses that are usually off the record. There are a lot of reasons why someone might want a personality tweak, or at least a discussion with someone knowledgeable that won�t show up in the health service dossier. People have a certain reluctance to admit that some part of their personality isn�t working; we�re not going to force them to go through the official health service.
�We allow a certain amount of off the record services, and we allow people to drop out if they want. The police do keep track, and if things go too far, they crack down, and they crack down hard.�
�I think I ran into one of those,� Jenny said. �When I arrived there was a girl named Carol in one of the training cages. She�d vanished a couple of months previously, and my supervisor said the police had picked her up. I never did know exactly what she�d done besides just be a wild girl.�
Mrs. Langston shook her head briefly. �Exactly. She may have gone over the line, or there may have been too many wild girls in the area. Those are the risks that a girl takes going wild. Your reaction to seeing her was?�
Jenny frowned. �I suppose interested. I knew her a bit before she vanished. My supervisor gave her to me for practice.�
�And that�s the point. Most people would feel bad in some way or other about effectively destroying a friend by training her to be a ponygirl. It�s a form of execution; what�s left not only isn�t the same person, it�s no more human than one of our remote ancestors, say erectus or afarensis. You don�t feel that. You can�t trust your feelings about whether what you�re doing to someone else is going to be acceptable. You have to reason it out.
�Your personality type indicates you will be playing on the fringes. That�s not because you like living dangerously, it�s because you don�t see the boundaries. They don�t make any sense to you. So you need a course in where the boundaries are. If you want to offer off the record services, the police aren�t going to object as long as you�re reasonably competent and don�t cross the outer boundary. Understand?�
�I see,� Jenny replied.
�For your sake I hope so.�
�So you�re my new intern,� the voice boomed at her.
�I guess so,� Jenny answered, spellbound by the sight of hundreds of ponygirls on the floor and out in the yard. Ponygirls that weren�t harnessed or otherwise restrained.
�It always gets visitors the first time,� the voice said. �I�m Jeff Steele, and I run this place, at least as much as it�s possible to run it. Call me Jeff.�
�Hi Jeff. I�m Jenny.�
�So I gathered. How much do you know of how we operate?�
�Less than I thought. I take it that you have the ponygirls do all the maintenance?�
�Only way to do it. It keeps them busy and out of mischief, and keeps all the equipment up to snuff. At least all the mechanicals; all they can do with computers is replace them.�
He gently herded her toward a small elevator bank as he talked.
�Some of our staff works down here in the madhouse, but most of us are on the third floor. The second is the ponygirl�s dormitory.�
The elevator doors opened and they walked out into an open office.
�I�m going to start you off in operations. That�s where we decide how many taxis we need on the street at any time, and where they need to be. The computer does the detail, but nobody�s ever built a scheduling program that�s as good as a couple of interested staffers that just get the job done.�
�I think I see.�
�You will. The second thing it�ll do is get you familiar with the city and the events calendar. As well as what goes wrong all the time.�
�Things go wrong?�
�That�s a law of nature, honey,� an amused soprano voice said. �I�m Gina, and I�m one of the people that tries to keep on top of things. I take it you�re Jenny, and you�re bewildered by all of this. Especially the ops map.� She waved a hand at the display that took up one entire wall of the room. The room itself seemed to be arranged theater style, with three semicircles of desks, each on a platform that dropped them a foot. It gave everyone a clear view of the map display.
�That looks useful.�
�Well, it is and it isn�t. It shows current status. Some of the codes and colors are current, some of them are projections. The displays on the desks are better; there are more of them, and you can make the computer show you exactly what you�re interested in at the time. It�s a pity you haven�t worked with ponygirls before, because we need people down on the floor desperately.�
Jenny almost laughed. �I spent three months at Reliable training them before I found I was college bound.�
�You did? All I knew is we were getting a student.�
�They told me she had some experience, but not what,� Jeff boomed. �So take her down and introduce her to inhouse ops.�
�Sure thing,� Gina said. �This way.�
�Part of the reason we keep needing people is that downstairs is a woman only position. We can�t advertise it that way, but a couple of hundred naked females who all want a real man inside them right now is just too much for the average male to handle.�
Jenny laughed. �I gather there were a fair number of men farther down the line, but my unit was women only as well.�
�Gina, you�re bringing a student down here?� the supervisor said.
�Vicky, she said she worked for Reliable training them,� Gina answered.
�So you�re not insane. Yet.�
Gina laughed. �We need help down here more than upstairs.�
�Too true.� She waved Gina away. �So let�s start out with the office.� She walked into a large room that seemed, at first glance, to be laid out like the ops center Jenny had just left.
�This is downstairs ops. Upstairs is concerned with keeping the flow of taxis in the city running smoothly, we�re concerned with what happens inside the building.�
�Jeff said the ponygirls run things down here?�
�Well, they do and they don�t. We�ve got a few supervisors on the floor in critical areas, but for the most part the girls do the various tasks as well as a crew of normal people would. In fact, if they can do it at all, they�re usually better. There are some interesting holes though, and one of them is maintenance. We�ll get to that later.
�They do the tasks well, but if we tried to get them to put it all together, it would fall into a shambles faster than you could believe. They simply don�t have the big picture, and couldn�t work with it if we tried to show them.�
�I can understand that,� Jenny answered. �Speedy, that�s my family�s ponygirl, certainly had limits that we had to work around. I learned a bit about how it all works in my time at Reliable.�
�Good. This is going to be your workstation, although you won�t be here that much. It�s the same as the stations upstairs. We�ve got spares so you won�t be doubling up on shift with anyone.
�Now, look at the big screen. What do you see?�
�Um. Three pieces.�
�Right. The display on the left is a plan view of the first floor, which is where all the work gets done. The codes show what�s going on right now in the various areas. The display on the right is the same view of the ponygirl�s quarters upstairs. That�s basically dormitories, cleaning stuff, the showers and a set of servicing units with the kitchen where they prepare the nutrients. There�s another set of showers and servicing units downstairs, but it�s supplied from the upstairs kitchen.
�The display in the center is a bigger view of whatever we�re having trouble with at the moment, or sometimes a direct view from the monitors.�
�Got it. I think.�
�So let�s start off with a quick tour so you know where things are.
�This building is actually a hollow square. There are stores on the corners, but we�ve got street exits on all four sides, and we use all four sides. This is a harnessing area. As you can see, we can do a half dozen at a time; during the buildup to the morning rush we put ten taxis a minute onto the street.�
�Your choreography must be amazing.�
�It�s not, really. It�s a standard pull system. The harnessing areas are flow through. The taxi movement teams bring the taxis in a steady stream and they put them into the next empty slot. The girls put on their own tack, and they go to the next taxi. The harnessing team buckles them into the traces, attaches and checks the reins and cuffs their hands to the shafts. They press go on the computer and it takes them right out. The taxi team brings the next taxi up and it repeats. We meter the rate by how many of the harnessing areas we have open.
�The taxis have got a small battery and generator attached to the wheels to power the computer and the lights, but it wouldn�t be cost effective to beef that up so we could fully automate the taxi movement. Besides, it would replace free ponygirl labor with more expensive labor to maintain the system. And they�d pout if we put them out of the job.�
Jenny giggled at the thought of a ponygirl pouting.
�They come back in here,� she moved over, �and the process almost reverses itself. The reason it isn�t a complete reversal is that we also handle servicing. They usually come in three times in a shift for servicing. The team unbuckles them from the taxi and they go to the servicing unit. It empties their bladder and fills their stomach, and then they go right back, get buckled in and go out again. They work 8 to 10 hour shifts.
�We�ve got servicing stations scattered all over the city. It would be horribly inefficient if they all had to come back here. They do come back at the end of the shift, or rather the computer routes them back. The process reverses; they get unbuckled, they take their own tack off, clean it and put it away. The storage crew does a quick check before taking the taxi back to the storage rack. The computer has enough sensors to tell if something�s about to fail. If it fails the check, it goes over here.
�We can have problems anywhere, but maintenance is where we spend most of our time. The reason is that the ponygirls can�t interpret the computer�s diagnostics, and sometimes it isn�t really obvious to them what�s about to go wrong.�
�I can understand that. Speedy was really good when she knew what to do, but she�d get confused if she couldn�t see it right away by moving something.� Jenny shrugged. �She�d show us what she didn�t think was right, and Dad, Mom or one of the older kids would figure it out and show her the problem. Then she�d fix it.�
�That�s basically what we do. They�ve got their own hierarchy; if one of them can�t figure it out, they call in another one that�s better at it and they go at it together. Then if they can�t figure it out one of us checks the diagnostic and marks the parts to replace.�
�It ought to work.�
�Oh, it does. It�s just that sometimes we�ve got a stack of taxis waiting for one of us to look at them. And we have to keep on them about checking parts out through the inventory system. As far as they�re concerned, parts appear in the storeroom by magic or something; they can�t connect the checkout scanner with refilling the inventory.�
�So inventory control and reordering is an issue.�
�It�s manageable as long as we keep on it. We keep more parts inventory than we should so that we don�t run out if we don�t spot a shortage immediately.�
�That�s the production part of the system,� Vicky continued. �The rest is keeping them happy when they�re not working. The center of the square here is for athletic games. They do a fair amount of game playing. You�d think they were guys, but I guess they do need more balanced exercise and they know it as well as we do.
�This area,� she led into an enclosed space, �is crafts. They do some weird work. I�ve never seen anything like it, and I know people who swear it has to be space aliens. If I hadn�t seen them putting it out, I might be tempted to agree!
�The we have the kitchens, servicing units and showers. They do all of this themselves.
�The dormitory for sleeping is upstairs. They only use it for sleeping and for sex.�
�This is amazing,� Jenny shook her head. �I had to study a quick overview of taxi when I was in one of Reliable�s manufacturing cells, but I had no idea!�
Jenny looked at Beth and nodded. Now.
�Lover, what would make your life complete?�
Beth looked up dreamily. �Wearing my husband�s collar,� she breathed, lifting her face to nuzzle Jenny.
�I�ve been checking...� Jenny said.
�And?� Beth caught her breath.
�It turns out I can make you my wife officially.�
�Really!�
�But not for a long time.�
�Darn,� Beth pouted.
�But there is something else.�
�What?�
�Close your eyes; I�ll just be a minute.�
Beth obediently closed her eyes as Jenny vanished into the workroom. She heard the sound of a package being opened and smiled.
�You can open them now.�
Beth opened her eyes and gasped. Jenny had a collar, two sets of cuffs and a neatly coiled leash on her belt.
�You�re going to,� Beth whispered, unable to take her eyes off the implements.
�Turn around, honey,� Jenny ordered.
Beth turned around, and Jenny swiftly shackled her arms together at the elbow and wrist.
�Around again,� Jenny ordered.
Beth turned to face her lover. She dropped her eyes to the ground and then knelt, legs spread wide, and bent forward.
�You really want to do this?�
�Oh, yes!�
Jenny slid her hair to one side and took the collar off her belt. �Read it,� she ordered as she held it in front of Beth�s face.
The collar had �Beth Daniels� engraved to the left of the ring, and �Jenny Jackson� to the right. In smaller letters it had �in devoted obedience� engraved above the post that held the ring, and �as long as their passion shall last� engraved below.
Beth read the four lines engraved on the front. �Beth Daniels, in devoted obedience to, Jenny Jackson, as long as their passion shall last.
�It�s a passion collar!�
�Of course it is, love. I can�t bend the rules enough to make you my wife yet.� She slid the open collar around her lover�s neck and closed it. It locked with a snap.
She put her hand on Beth�s head, pushing it down so she had to look at the floor. �By my will and your will, I, Jenny Jackson, take you, Beth Daniels, in unqualified love, devotion and obedience as long as our passion shall last.�
Beth breathed: �Oh, yes, lover!�
�Up and make lips!�
Beth scrambled to her feet and tilted her head back, eyes closed and lips puckered. Jenny gathered her in for a long, passionate kiss. Then she snapped the leash on Beth�s new collar and tugged her toward the bedroom. Beth followed, a triumphant grin on her face.
A while later Beth sat on the floor, curled against Jenny�s legs and occasionally touching her collar as if she couldn�t quite believe it.
�There are a couple of details to finish off,� Jenny said as she tousled her lover�s hair. �We need to make it official. Get your reader.�
Beth scrambled up and came back in a moment, a puzzled look on her face.
�It�s under current. You�ve got to accept it.�
�Oh.� Her fingers danced across the back. �Done!�
�Now for the boring stuff.�
�It�s my collar! It can�t be boring!�
Jenny giggled. �A passion collar isn�t the same as other collars. You can take it off when you need to, and you can disavow the relationship whenever you want.�
�I�m yours forever!� Beth proclaimed.
�If we�re still together, we�ll renew our vows when I can give you a wife�s collar. Then it�ll be forever.�
�Good,� Beth said with a tone of satisfaction.
�There are going to be times when you can�t wear it.�
�Why?�
�You�re still Beth Daniels, student professional, not Beth Jackson, Jenny Jackson�s wife. There�s a certain amount of credibility you need to function. You won�t be credible as a professional if you�re wearing a collar while you�re too young to have finished raising your family. You�d think a passion collar would be different, but it isn�t. Most people can�t tell the difference, and for most of those that can it�s still a collar is a collar is a collar. If you don�t keep that in mind, you could wind up back as Beth, collared worker.�
�Oh. Darn.�
�Yes. Darn. You can wear it to classes and around campus, but I�d suggest you don�t wear it off campus.�
�Oh, right. There are enough wives taking classes, aren�t there?�
�Right. Passion collars aren�t that unusual around campus. You just need to know how to spot them or you�ll think it�s a wife collar or slave collar.�
�How to spot one?�
�Wife collars have a line of engraving above the post, passion collars have one above and one below the post.�
�Oh. Right. Collared workers, engines and ponygirls don�t have either.� Beth snuggled up against Jenny�s leg.
�Something�s puzzling me, Vicky,� Jenny told the supervisor at the end of a shift several weeks later.
�You�re doing well as maintenance backup,� Vicky answered, �so that can�t be the problem?�
�Um, no. There are several ponygirls that seem to be behaving oddly, and I�m wondering why they haven�t been sent in for retraining.�
�Which ones?� Vicky asked. Jenny reeled off the numbers from their ID tattoos.
Vicky laughed. �Those aren�t ponygirls, honey. They�re wild girls. We�ve got half a dozen that are pretending to be ponygirls. They live here and duck in and out when they think nobody�s looking.�
�Wild girls? I�ve heard of them; one of the ponygirls that went through our unit was supposed to be a wild girl that they�d captured. I�d think the police would be after them.�
�The police only bother if there�s too many of them or they�re causing a problem. I gather it�s some kind of policy; they don�t want to beef up the police force enough to really eliminate the problem, but they don�t want it talked up either.�
�How do they work it?�
�The manes are real. Most of them have the gene mods. They�ve got a couple of neat gadgets that look and work like the jaw and throat blocks, but aren�t permanent. They�ve got removable collars and change them when they come on and off premises. And the collars are gimmicked so they�ve got the computers totally faked out. At least they think so,� she added with a chuckle. �Actually we�ve got spotter programming but it doesn�t affect how the computer treats them. We let them think we don�t know.�
She paused a moment. �I suppose I can tell you a bit. There are places you can get a lot of illegal, or at least off the official record, services. The police seem to ignore them as long as they don�t get too big or cause too many problems. I think the police actually know more than they�re talking about.�
�I wonder ... .�
�Oh?�
�Would it be permissible to tell them we know who they are and either do some work or get out?�
�I don�t see why not,� Vicky answered. �If they decide to go elsewhere, I wouldn�t weep. And if they actually did something useful it would make me a lot happier. As well as the rest of the management. What are you thinking?�
�Lt. Forsyth,� the man behind the desk said. �You�re Jenny? My admin said you had some questions about wild girls and, um, off the record services. I�m curious. If you wanted them, I wouldn�t think you�d be asking me.�
Jenny laughed. �I assume you�ve looked at the confidential parts of my dossier; I�d have to be real stupid to try to go behind anyone�s back on something that can be misinterpreted.�
�And you obviously aren�t stupid. So what�s the background?�
�We�ve got a small infestation of wild girls at the taxi service, and I want to know what I can do to them without getting in trouble, and also how they manage to do it. My supervisor said something about off the record services.�
�Off the record is technically not illegal,� he said. �At least if it doesn�t go too far. There are several issues bearing on what you�re asking. The first is a wild girl�s legal status.
�They stepped outside of large parts of the system when they went wild. Their only real option if they don�t like what you�re doing is to leave; they can�t complain without risking being arrested and sent down as ponygirls or engines.
�You can�t complain either if they disobey you or walk. You�ll simply get laughed at. Wild girls are wild girls, and anyone who expects one to act like a collared worker is, um, not too bright. Even if they�re pretending to be collared workers, which most of them are.
�It doesn�t give you the option of mistreating them; while they don�t have the protection of the legal system, you have to behave appropriately toward them. We regard inappropriate behavior toward a wild girl as symptomatic of possibly inappropriate behavior elsewhere.�
�I see. It�s both easier and safer to not make the distinction.�
�Exactly. Appropriate behavior means you should treat them the same way you�d treat anyone else in the situation that they�re presenting. Of course, taking care to protect your own interests would be prudent. Since they�re pretending to be ponygirls and sponging off the taxi service, it would be quite reasonable for the service to train them and put them to work as ponygirls as long as they don�t keep them from leaving.
�Your certifications from Reliable aren�t the best ones for training them, but they�re adequate if there isn�t anyone more appropriate available, and there doesn�t seem to be. So it would be legitimate for the taxi service to have you train them. Their only recourse would be to leave; there�s nobody to complain to.�
�That seems reasonable,� Jenny said. �I�m actually a bit farther along than the certifications show. They�re manufacturing certifications, and either you fully satisfy the criterion, or you don�t. Manufacturing operations do all or nothing.�
�That�s the best way; you never know where you stand with partials. Now, as to how they manage to do it. The manes and the gene mods are legal. That hair style isn�t unknown among some of the wilder set. The gene mods could get someone in real trouble if they tried to do unmodified competitive sports without declaring them, but there are a complete parallel set of sports where they�re needed to be competitive. The rest?� He looked at the readout.
�You�d be getting into some rather hard fetish stuff. The only pieces that are strictly illegal are the permanent throat and jaw pieces but they aren�t using those; the fetish people are the ones that invented the prosthetics.�
�Fetishes?�
�You probably haven�t heard of them. You�d be surprised at the number of people that use their wives as engines and ponygirls when they go on vacation.�
�If it�s more than zero, right, I�m surprised.�
�It�s more than zero. It�s a fraction of a percent, but that�s still a fair number of people. They say they like it.�
�That doesn�t surprise me. She�d have to be properly trained, and if she is she�d like it while she�s in the state. They�d better have it balanced, though.�
�Balanced?�
�If it isn�t balanced with the rest of the personality, it�s addictive. If it is it simply isn�t that attractive. Although I suppose they�d do it because their husbands told them to, and it�s not particularly bad. It�s just that they�re not getting on with their normal life while they�re playing.�
The lieutenant looked at the readout and frowned. �I see there are some complexities here. I presume they�ve got the computers foxed?�
�Well, almost.�
The lieutenant laughed. �That�s the third piece. Wild girls use the hacker underground to build up new identities. The hacker underground exploits a lot of holes in the system. It would be too expensive to fix all of them, and it would simply lead to an arms race. An expensive arms race that wouldn�t benefit anyone. We crack down on anyone that�s getting way out of line, and otherwise quietly keep track of the activity. A lot of collared workers, and not a few wives, have their collars rigged so that they can drop out of sight for a few hours here and there.�
I�ll bet they aren�t as secret as they think, either, Jenny said to herself.
�Now the ID tattoo is right on the borderline. The better hackers can create and erase identities fairly easily, and they do it all the time.� He studied the readout and then chuckled. �She seems to have gotten two new identities when she dropped out. One as a collared worker with a faked up owner, one as a ponygirl. The ID tattoo goes with the ponygirl identity, so it�s not really a separate issue.�
He made a note. �I�ll give you a couple of hacker contacts. These two have a real weird sense of humor bordering on the nastily malicious. Fortunately for them, they seem to know where the line is, and are very careful not to come close enough for a misstep to put them over.�
�So you did something,� Vicky said at the beginning of Jenny�s next shift.
�Oh?� Jenny answered with a wideyed look of surprise that wouldn�t have fooled a moron, unless she was in a real hurry.
�The computer seems to have decided not to ignore them any longer. It isn�t raising any alarms, but it�s showing their real brain scans and when they�re off premises. By permission, even. And I�d love to know how they got the computer to do that!�
�So that�s what he did,� Jenny laughed. �If you haven�t told them, they should still be in the dark. I�ve started a conditioning process, but that will simply make them better ponygirls while they�re on premises.�
�I noticed that. What does it do?� Vicky asked suspiciously.
�It creates the ponygirl and interface functional patterns in their brains. The ponygirl functional pattern is the same one that all the ponygirls have; the interface functional pattern will let them know who they are and what they�re about, but doesn�t give them access to language or most of the �higher functions�. It�ll let them decide whether they want to stay or leave. Either for the evening or permanently. Real ponygirls don�t have that one.
�They�re both keyed to having the prosthetics in their mouths. The ponygirl pattern will be in effect when they�re on shift � if they get that far. The interface pattern is the ponygirl pattern plus, and it will be in effect when they�re not on shift.�
�That ought to help a lot,� Vicky said. �You said on shift?�
�I want to start training them on something real simple.�
�Um?�
�Moving the taxis from the storage racks to the harnessing slots and back.�
�We�ve got enough that can do that.�
�The conditioning process takes a while; it will be at least a month before they can pick up procedures fast enough to work in maintenance, and that long or longer before they lose the ability to read the diagnostic codes.�
�You�re going to tell them to work or get out?�
�Tell them?� Jenny giggled. �I want to see how far I can get training them while they still think I think they�re real ponygirls.�
�That ought to be good for a laugh or six!� She paused in thought. �Spend a couple of hours working through the diagnostic backlog. Then the 2nd street harnessing area will be clear and you can use that. I want to see if you can pull it off without breaking down laughing.�
Two hours later Jenny stood up and stretched. She�d worked through the whole line of taxis with problems. Most of them had been dead simple � at least if you could read the diagnostic codes the computer put out. For most of them she�d used a marker to put a big red X on the parts to be replaced. Some of them she�d called one of the girls working on the taxis over and showed her what was wrong, and let her take it from there. She�d done three of them herself. That wasn�t because she didn�t think the girls couldn�t replace the part, it was because she didn�t know how to tell them which part to replace without taking it out herself.
For about the tenth time she made a mental note to try to get taxis that the ponygirls could maintain without help. It ought to be possible; Speedy certainly could do her family�s three carriages.
Now, she thought. She straightened her skirt and took her hair out of the net she�d been using while she was crawling over the machinery.
Where are they? she thought. She keyed in a command on her reader and looked at the result. Then she headed over to the servicing units.
The two she wanted were just coming out when she arrived. �Audry. Ceil. Follow.� She turned on her heel and walked toward the 1st street harnessing area without looking to see if they followed.
She didn�t see the two of them look at each other, shrug, and then follow her. The several supervisors and workers who were watching the affair on the monitor did, though.
She stopped where they could see the whole operation without getting in anyone�s way.
�Good girls,� she said as she turned and motioned them to where they could watch. Then she stepped up behind them and began stroking them, telling them they were good girls, and at the same time mentioning what some of the girls moving the taxis were doing. In a few minutes she had them relaxed and watching the flow as the girls took the taxis from the rack, stepped between the shafts and hauled them to a waiting line. Then when they got to the front they took it into the first open harnessing bay and walked back to pick up another taxi.
It took about fifteen minutes before she felt they�d gotten as much as they could just standing there watching.
�Good girls!� she told them. �Follow!� She walked to the other side, obviously confident that they were following her.
The 2nd street harnessing bay was empty, as advertised. She walked over and pulled one of the extra full racks down.
�Watch!� she commanded as she took one off the rack. Then she put it back in slow motion so that they could see exactly what she did. She did it three more times, and then she motioned Audry forward to do it.
Audry managed to fumble just about everything imaginable.
�Good girl!� Jenny praised her. Audry shot her an incredulous look, or at least as much of one as she could manage around the mouthpiece.
Jenny looked back as if she hadn�t noticed anything, and motioned for her to try again. This time she was smoother. Jenny corrected her movements a few times until she could take a taxi off the rack and put it back flawlessly. Then she started on Ceil, who had been standing there watching.
Ceil did better on her first try. Jenny had Audry show her how to do it when she fumbled.
�Good girls!� Vicky said from behind her.
�Huh?� Jenny spun around.
�You�ve got them better than I expected. Let�s do the movement next, and then take them over to 1st street and see how they do.�
�I�d call that a success,� Vicky said as she and Jenny watched the 1st street harnessing operation on the monitors.
�So would I,� Jeff�s voice boomed from behind them. �Are they going to stay?�
�Who knows?� Jenny answered. �It�s a win either way.� She frowned in concentration at the display of Audry�s mental process, and made a minor adjustment to the conditioning rules.
�The computer should take them off shift in an hour or so, and then we�ll see if they go back on command this afternoon. It�s going to be interesting seeing how this plays out.�
�Isn�t it just,� Vicky answered. �Jenny, clean up and scat before you�re late for class.�
Jenny looked at the clock and winced. She picked up her handbag and hurried out the door.
�Audry!� Shelly exclaimed. �I haven�t seen you for weeks!� She continued in a lower voice as she slid out of the booth she normally occupied to give her friend an enthusiastic hug: �I though the cops had picked you up, but I didn�t hear anything about a sweep.�
�No such luck,� Audry said as they settled at Shelly�s booth.
�So what have you been doing?� Shelly asked.
�I�ve been working. Without credit,� she answered.
�You decided to ease back into the system?�
�No, it decided to latch onto me. You know I�ve been playing ponygirl to stay at the taxi stable without anyone catching on?�
�Why you went to all that work?� Shelly shrugged. �Setting it up for you was fun, but I know I wouldn�t if I decided to drop out.�
�It seemed good at the time, and I thought it was working. Then this new girl shows up a few times a week. Looks like a college student. One day she walks up, picks me and Ceil out of the crowd, trains us on one of the jobs and puts us to work. No warning. One minute we�re standing there, a couple of hours later we�re in the line hauling taxis from the rack to the harnessing stations.
�And to top it off she acts like she believes we�re real ponygirls.�
�You�re kidding!�
�Nope. I wasn�t sure whether to run when I got off shift or hide. So I stayed a couple of days, and then tried to sneak off. No problem. No problem coming back either. Tonight�s the first night I decided to hit the haunts.�
Shelly just shook her head. �So they�ve got you working?�
�Regularly. I must be putting in four, five hours a day in the harnessing and unharnessing lines. And that�s really bugging me.�
�Oh?�
�It�s not the work. Frankly, I�m a bit happier that I�m doing something to pay back for the bed and nutrients. What�s bugging me is that I�m acting like one of their ponygirls.�
�How so?� Shelly leaned forward.
�They�ve got this work assignment system. Some kind of code words come over the speakers. Every time they do, some of the ponygirls drop what they�re doing and go do something else. I seem to be reacting to the damn thing, and I haven�t got any idea how it�s done.�
�Let me check something,� Shelly said. She slid her reader out of her purse. Her fingers twitched on the back for a bit as she looked at what it told her.
�I can tell you one thing. They�re not only on to you, they were on to you the first day you walked in.�
�Damn!�
�Your ponygirl collar�s got different programming than I put in.�
�I was afraid of that.�
�The masking routine for the brain scan is gone. It�s got something else that connects to both the scanner and the stimulators. I�d say,� she paused a moment, �they�re conditioning you.�
�You�re kidding?�
�Nope. That�s a conditioning setup.�
�So they�re training me to be a real ponygirl?�
�At least while you�re on premises. This is a pure guess, but I think they�d be in real trouble if they tried to go all the way themselves. If they wanted that, they�d call the police and have you picked up.�
�And the police would turn me into a real ponygirl.�
�Or engine.�
�Yuck!�
�Oh, absolutely. If I was you, I�d find another hole to crawl into, fast.�
�I�m not so sure,� Audry answered thoughtfully. �And that�s what�s really bothering me. When I�m working, time just seems to flow and I feel good. Better than I�ve ever felt working. I might be getting addicted.�
�Well,� Shelly looked at her acquaintance, �I�d say you�re on the slide to becoming a ponygirl, for real and officially. They�re letting you take your time, but the longer you stay there the more they�re going to train you. And if it really is addictive, one day you�re just going to quit sticking your head out of the hole.�
�You think so?�
�I�m pretty sure of it.� She paused. �When I started doing the hacker thing, I knew it was dangerous, but I wanted to give the system the finger. I found out a few things. I�m not really outside of the system, and neither are you.
�They know about me, and they know about you, and they�re ignoring both of us � as long as we don�t contribute to too much disorder.� She picked up her reader again and studied it for a while.
�You seem to have walked into it. Your college student spent a few months working for Reliable Ponygirl and Engine Training before she got sent off to college. Her dossier lists a bunch of qualifications that don�t mean much to me, and has some blocked areas. I�d say she noticed you and asked for permission to train you and put you to work.�
�She asked for permission?�
�More than likely. She looks like she�s staying inside the system the same way I�m staying inside it. Know where the line is, and give yourself a decent safety margin.�
�I wish there was a way ...� Audry said.
Shelly picked up her reader again and looked at it. �If you really want to keep walking on the sharp edge of disaster, I�d suggest talking to Jenny.�
�Jenny?�
�That�s your student�s name. You didn�t know?�
�That�s her? I don�t think I ever heard it, besides I wasn�t really paying attention to what they were saying.� She stopped, startled at hearing what she�d just said.
�Damn! They�re further into me than I thought. I used to listen to whatever I could pick up.�
�Ponygirls aren�t supposed to understand what people say,� Shelly said idly as she studied her reader. �I really think you should get out right now. Or at least talk to her.�
�How? I can�t talk on premises.�
�At least without taking out that silly prosthetic.� She nodded. �Hold up your reader.�
Audry dug the device from her purse, and Shelly �I�ve given you a one-time contact. If she wants to talk to you, she�ll set the rest up.�
�I didn�t anticipate this,� Jenny told Vicky when she came in for her shift the next morning.
�Oh?�
�Audry.� Jenny nodded to the floor outside the office. �She found out who I am and sent me a message last night. A long message. I guess once she started writing it all began to come out.
�It boils down to being both scared of becoming a real ponygirl and fascinated by it. And she�s afraid the fascination is going to win out. She tried not coming back and wasn�t able to.�
�She has to make up her mind by herself,� Vicky said. �However.� She sat down and pulled up Audry�s dossier.
�If she wanted to come back in from being a wild girl, we could offer her an entry-level position as a collared worker. That�s not a promise, but if you want to talk to her, you can dangle it as a possibility.�
�You�d take her?�
�She�s behaving herself, and she certainly knows her way around. There are a couple of others that we were about ready to ask the police to take them away before you started training them. They�ve settled down since.�
�Well,� Jenny said, �it�s not like I can pretend I don�t know she�s not a real ponygirl any more. Although I doubt if it makes any difference when she�s on shift. I�ve got her to the point that she�s not paying attention to what anyone says around her, and that includes me.�
�There she is,� Jenny told Beth as she looked around the crowded club.
�I see. That mane is interesting.�
Just then Audry stood up and waved at them.
�The die is cast,� Beth said portentously, and then spoiled the moment with a giggle.
�I don�t know how to say this,� Audry began after the server had brought them their drinks.
�I�d say: then don�t, but it would kind of spoil the reason we�re all here,� Jenny responded dryly.
�I�m afraid I�m getting addicted to the ponygirl experience.�
�Quite likely. My old employer said they used to lose a lot of employees that way. One day they�d just crawl into a training cage and say: finish me up.�
Audry took a deep breath. �If I don�t do anything, what�s the next step?�
�Taxi,� Jenny answered. �You�ve really got most of the inhouse jobs except maintenance down quite well, and we don�t want to put you on that until we�re sure you can�t read diagnostic codes.�
�I�d think that would be a plus,� Shelly put in.
�It would, except that the bosses think that it would upset the rest of the ponygirls. They�re used to having one of us doing it if they can�t figure it out themselves.�
�Point,� Beth nodded.
�So the next major piece would be training you for taxi. That�s what the taxi service does, after all.�
�I�d have to have a real tail for that, wouldn�t I?�
�I don�t think so. Your prosthetic seems to be quite workable. So are your prosthetic jaw and throat pieces. What I�d worry about is the muscle bulk and whether the leggings will stand up. We could put a real horsehair coat on your legs easily enough, but that might put a crimp in your social life.�
�So how do I keep working as a ponygirl and not fall in all the way?�
�See, you finally managed to ask it!� Jenny teased. �The idea is to make it less attractive, and we do that by cleaning and brightening your everyday experience. I�d really prefer that you have a competent therapist do it, but I suspect you don�t want to take the chance.�
�I checked,� Shelly said. �There aren�t any therapists that could do it that I�d trust for an off the record transaction.�
�I was afraid of that. That�s why I asked you to have a friend, and I brought my roommate. We need witnesses. I could work on it, but it�s way out of my area of expertise, and you�d have to ask me formally. No sliding around the issue.�
�I�d think you�d know how,� Shelly said.
�Well, almost. It�s not a task I needed to know to work on shift with the ponygirls we were training. It�s a task I would need for training a new worker, and that�s optional. I was looking at some of the material, but I got yanked to go to college before I got very far.
�It�s a design problem: I�ve got to adjust her personality so the real world is more attractive than the ponygirl world, and the adjustment has got to meld smoothly with her current personality. That�s going to take some work, and it�s work that I�m only barely qualified for.�
�Hence the witnesses,� Audry sighed. �What�s likely to happen?�
�Well, if it works you�ll find your attitude much more positive and forward-looking. I suspect that once it settles in you�ll probably want to come in from being a wild girl. You�d probably either forget the ponygirl thing, or keep pieces because they�re darn useful.�
�Parts are useful?�
�Oh, yes. You�ve already found that ponygirls learn certain types of things very rapidly. We can�t train them the way we train normal people, but we don�t need to. As long as we can show them, step by step, how something works, they�ll take it from there. They do it so fast it�s almost scary. It�s one of the reasons I work maintenance: I can keep up with them; the rest of the staff can�t.�
�So, you do it that way?�
�Right. It was part of my training. I can slide into the ponygirl mindset and then right out again. You�re set up so that you�ll stay in the mindset while you�re on shift, but you�ll be able to decide if you want to shift in and out while you�re off shift. And you won�t accidentally slide into it if you�re dressed and don�t have the prosthetics in your mouth.�
�So what�s likely to happen if I just go on?�
�I�ll finish training you, and we�ll put you to work like any other ponygirl. You�ll spend most of your work time on the street. Most likely you�ll eventually quit taking your nights out. Once you don�t do that for a while, we�ll call the appropriate authority, and you�ll become a permanent ponygirl, tail and all.�
�So it�s either quit cold turkey, ask you to fiddle my brain a bit, or accept the bridle and bit?�
�I�d say that covers it.�
She grimaced. �I don�t have the willpower to quit. That�s what�s got me scared. So go ahead and start work revising my normal personality. Goddess knows it hasn�t done me that much good. Whatever you come up with has got to be better than this.�
�Jenny, would you please introduce yourself around,� Dr. Abrams said when the seminar participants had settled.
She looked around at the rest of the students. Older students. Most of them grad students. Well, it was an opportunity. She hoped.
�I�m Jenny Jackson, and the faculty decided I�d better take this seminar because I�ve been conditioning ponygirls for the taxi service.�
�A ha!� a young man named Miles exclaimed. �I�ve seen the diagram, but they keep how they do it rather close.�
�I�ve got their permission to let Jenny talk about it,� Dr. Abrams said smoothly. �Continue.�
�Well, that�s not too far out of my area of expertise; I was in the unit at Reliable that did the conditioning, and I�ve been conditioned so I can slide in and out of that state at will. I�d gotten to a level 2 certification on what I needed to know to work a shift, which means I can read the diagrams and track the process and yell if anything looks wrong.
�The background is that every once in a while a wild girl decides to fake being a ponygirl and hide at the taxi service. We decided I could finish their conditioning as long as they could still decide to leave for an evening out or permanently.�
�Now that�s something I want to see,� a young woman named Katie said.
�You will,� Dr. Abrams said. �Continue.�
�The big problem with the system is that the ponygirl state is emotionally addictive. So one of the girls figured out that someone was working her over, and had a hacker friend track me down. She asked if I could do something that would let her keep being a ponygirl at the taxi service, but would stop the slide into being full time.
�As you might imagine, that put me in a bit of a bind. Turning her into a full time ponygirl is over the line, so I had an obligation to do something. We couldn�t find anyone else to do it, so I dug in, figured out an approach, and started in on the conditioning sequence.�
�Good going,� another girl, Yilsa, said. �An ethical problem to boot. This is going to be interesting.�
�That�s enough on the background. So who�s the subject?�
Jenny tapped her reader, and Audry sprang to life on the screen that dominated one end of the room.
�This is Audry. She�s around 20. She decided to drop out in the last year of high school, and put in quite a bit of work to get a disguise as a ponygirl. She�s got the brain scanner installed. Here�s what it looked like just before she vanished and took up residence at the taxi service. I had a hacker dig this out of the medic�s files.� She threw up the diagram.
The resulting discussion flew over her head. She shook it ruefully and sat back to pick up what she could.
�I think,� Dr. Abrams said after ten minutes, �we�ve decided she�s in an at risk category so her dropping out shouldn�t be a surprise.� Most of the students nodded.
�Good. Now for the next piece. Jenny?�
�I came on the scene about eight months ago, and spotted her a couple of months after. I did a bit of checking and got authorization to complete her conditioning and put her to use, with the provisos I mentioned earlier. Here�s the brain scan from just before I started.�
The discussion was, if anything, even more intense. However, Jenny understood most of it since it swirled around the changes that two and a half years of pretending to be a ponygirl had made in her brain.
�I think this is enough,� Dr. Abrams eventually pronounced. �It�s fairly obvious that she�s suffered a great deal of deterioration in the areas that are excluded while she�s being a ponygirl, and that aren�t exercised while she�s out enjoying herself.�
�Those aren�t that much, surely,� Katie said.
�It�s the decision areas,� Miles replied. �The girl who could decide to hide in the taxi service and carry the plan through no longer exists. She simply doesn�t have the will power any more.�
�Oh. I see.�
�Good. Jenny, put your plan up for us to critique. Class, we�re going to take it apart and see if we can put it together better.�
Jenny put her plan up on the screen and tensed a bit.
�Enough!� Dr. Abrams said a half hour later. �Jenny?�
�I knew it wasn�t all that good, but I had no idea it was quite that bad.�
�Cheer up,� Miles told her. �The first plan I put up wasn�t half as ambitious, and I left with body parts strewn all over the floor.�
�Ouch!�
Katie giggled. �The first plan always gets torn to shreds. I think you did quite well, considering.�
�I agree,� Dr. Abrams said. �That�s a good part of the reason for this seminar: to rip bad analysis and plans to shreds. The rest is to be able to hold up under the criticism.
�How�d it go?� Beth asked that evening.
�Horrible. Blood and body parts all over the floor. Then when they put the poor thing back together, it looked like Frankenstein�s Monster.�
�That bad?�
�The original was worse,� Jenny giggled as she grabbed her roommate for a coming home kiss.
�You�re looking better,� Shelly said as Audry slid into the seat across from her.
�I�m feeling better, even though I�m frustrated as all get out!�
�About what?�
�Being a ponygirl isn�t anywhere near as attractive as it was, but I�m still not able to pull myself away.�
�Didn�t you get Jenny�s message?�
�I did, but I haven�t been able to set up a meeting.�
�She sent me the outline in case you couldn�t get together. I gather her class schedule has turned horrible.�
�Oh?�
�Well, the good news is that you�re not in any trouble with the police.�
�I thought going wild was trouble!�
�Technically it�s a status violation, but nobody cares. The only time they�ll bring it up is if they�re after you for other reasons and they want to pad the charge list, or if there are too many wild girls and they want to thin them out with a sweep. The trouble with the police comes because of what you have to do to support yourself. Right now you�ve got a steady job record at the Taxi Service, and it�s paying you more than enough to cover your staying there, plus spending money.�
�It�s paying me?�
�Check your account balance.�
�I�ve got an account?� Audry pulled her reader out of her purse.
�I�ve got an account,� she echoed herself. �How�s that work?�
�I wondered so I dug in a bit. Their bean counters keep track of how much using ponygirls for labor instead of keeping them in cages when they weren�t on the street was saving them. It�s lots. So they decided to classify you as casual labor and award you a chunk of it. That keeps them strictly legal. You�re getting paid below minimum, and they�re taking room and board off the top, but it�s still credit.�
�It certainly is. I can buy some decent clothes and do some clubbing without hustling.�
�Well, that leads into the bad news. She strongly suggested that you sign up for a sim. Specifically one of the strategy dungeon crawls. She included a list.�
�Why?�
�She said you need to strengthen your planning and persistence, and the sims on that list were recommended by the health service for teens and twenty-somethings that had problems in that area.�
�Why?�
�She didn�t say, but I can guess. It took a lot of planning and persistence to set up to hide at the taxi service, right?�
�Yes.�
�Where is it now? I�d bet that the girl who planned that wouldn�t have had a bit of trouble pulling out when it turned sour.�
�Some.� She sagged briefly in her chair. �You�re right. It�s going to take a chunk out of that balance.�
�So?� Shelly shrugged. �It�s not like you really need to splurge. There are cheap clubs with decent entertainment, and there are used and overstock clothing stores. They�re just not the latest fashions.�
Audry sighed. �So there are. It�s just...� she paused. �Damn. I recognize the feeling. She�s got the conditioning set up.�
�She does?�
�Yeah. I just realized that spending money I might need later wasn�t good planning. Damn!�
Shelly laughed. �So she�s really on your case.�
�I asked for it, I shouldn�t complain.�
�Complain all you want, it�s good for you.� They both giggled.
�She said something else that really got me thinking,� Shelly added after they came down.
�Oh?�
�It was that you could come back from being wild.�
�I can?�
�I didn�t think so until I started digging. You�d have to have a job offer, and I�d have to set it up, but you�d go back as a collared worker. And the taxi service is willing to take you on.�
�Collared worker.� Audry wrinkled her nose.
�That�s what you�re doing now.�
�So it is. It�s better than being a ponygirl, which is where I was headed if I�d stayed for graduation.�
�Nope.�
�What do you mean?�
�I dug into your school records. Learned a lot, too, and most of it I suspect that they don�t want me talking about. Let�s just say that when you dropped out, the odds were two to one in favor of your becoming a collared worker, and less than one in 15 of your becoming either an engine or ponygirl, with engine being somewhat in the lead.�
�I never knew that! So there was even a chance of becoming a senior worker?�
�About 1 in 5. There was also a very small chance of a college slot. They don�t tell you. Odds aren�t certainties, and they could have changed in any direction before graduation.�
�It still rankles.�
�So? Look around you. Four women out of five are wearing collars, and one of those is a wife. The only way you avoid a collar is by being a professional or a senior worker. You could work your way up. It�s not all that common, but it�s possible and it does happen.�
�Fat chance.�
�For you, it�s possible. I�m not going to tell you the detail, but your school records indicated that your problem was mostly personality. You�re intelligent and you used to have a good deal of persistence and planning ability. What Jenny�s doing should take care of the personality issues.�
Audry started to say something and paused, startled.
�Damn. She did it again. You did say I�m back in the system?�
�Don�t push it, but as long as your credit balance holds out, nobody�s going to ask questions. You won�t have any problem signing up for the sim. I�ll still have to make one more record change if, or rather when, you decide to come back in for real.�
�Gee, thanks. What do I owe you for tonight?�
�Forget it. Jenny�s message pointed me to more than enough interesting stuff to pay for it.�
�Well, see you around,� Audry said as she slid out of the booth.
�Be well,� Shelly replied. She looked after the wild girl thoughtfully as she walked off. This one might make it. Then she looked up as another young woman came out of the crowd and slid into the seat.
�I need a hacker badly,� she started.
�So you went behind my back and got a brain scanner installed,� Jenny said to Beth, trying to put some disapproval into her voice.
�You know?�
�Yes. I got asked what I intended to use it for.�
�They didn�t.�
�Of course they did. You forget what your husband is all about. So I told them what I thought you had in mind, and what I�d use it for.�
�You did?�
�Of course. They approved. But...�
�But what?� Beth said a bit hesitantly at the tone.
�I don�t want you going behind my back again. We need a new agreement.�
�We do?�
�Here.� Jenny handed Beth her reader.
Beth read it and frowned. �I like it, honey. It�s just that it�s so, um,�
�Final?�
�That�s the word.� She snuggled up to her faux husband for support.
�So it is. It�s decision time. Go into the bedroom and when you�re ready either come out and hand me your collar, or come out naked with the cuffs on your arms and wrists.�
Beth took a deep breath and hugged Jenny closer. Then she untangled herself and got up. �I�ll just be a minute.�
So, Jenny thought, which was it going to be?
A minute later, right on the dot, Beth padded out of the bedroom, stark naked. �I�m yours,� she said simply.
�Turn around, honey.� Jenny commanded.
Beth spun around, letting Jenny pull her arms together behind her back and snap the cuffs together. Jenny gave her a gentle twist.
Beth spun around again and knelt, legs spread in a precise right angle. She bent forward, almost horizontal to the floor. Jenny put the reader on the floor where she could see it.
Beth took another deep breath, and then started reading.
�I, Beth Danials, acknowledge that I regard Jenny Jackson as my husband and myself as her wife. I give her my passion, my devotion and my obedience, and I ask her to accept the obligation to ensure, using any means within her ability that is within both law and custom, that my passion for her is intense, that my devotion to her is pure, and that my obedience to her will is swift and unconditional, to the extent that it does not interfere with my ability to discharge my obligations to the community as a professional.�
Jenny said formally: �This is your will?�
Beth replied: �It is.�
Jenny put her hand on Beth�s head and pushed down, causing Beth to shift to avoid falling over.
�By my will and your will, I, Jenny Jackson, acknowledge that you, Beth Danials, regard me as your husband and yourself as my wife, with all the private rights, privileges and duties that entails, and that it is also my duty to ensure that your passion for me remains intense, that your devotion to me is pure, and that your obedience to my will is swift and unconditional. I will not use any methods, require you to perform any actions or present yourself in any way that will interfere with your ability to function in the community as a professional.�
She let the silence continue for a minute, and then shifted her hand to bring Beth to her feet. �Make lips!�
Beth closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Jenny let her stay that way for a minute, and then pulled her in and bent to kiss her.
�So what are you going to do to me?� Beth asked as she nestled against Jenny. �Or shouldn�t I ask?�
�Ask away,� Jenny replied. �I�ve put a set of conditioning routines in your collar. You really are passionate, devoted and obedient when you want to be, so they�re more gentle reinforcements than anything heavy handed. They also do a couple of other things.�
�Oh?�
�First, they�ll nudge you to bring anything you�ve got doubts or questions about to the surface so we can discuss it. Second, they�ll shape your response to seeing me or thinking of me so that it reinforces our vow.�
�So I really don�t have any choice any more?�
�Pretty much. I really did not like your getting the brain scanner without telling me. It put me in a bit of a pickle. Fortunately, it worked out, but I had to do some quick explaining. I�d have agreed if you�d have asked; it really is the next step if you want to experience what it�s like to be a ponygirl or engine.�
�Oh!� Beth said contritely.
�It worked out, so we�ll just call it experience and move on. Now that you�ve got the scanner, we need to do the rest of the preparations. You need to set up to get the rest of the non-visible mods installed.�
�What are those?� Beth asked, a dreamy smile on her face.
�The gene mods, the breast hooks, the catheters and the tail attachment. You�ll also get fitted for the jaw and throat prosthetics. And...�
�And?�
�I want you measured for an engine mount.�
�You know, I forgot about that,� Beth said thoughtfully. �I do want to find out what engines feel like, but I doubt if I�ll want to go there more than a few times.�
�We�ll see, lover. I don�t think you know what you�re letting yourself in for.�
�Ummm...� Beth settled back against her lover�s legs and brushed her collar, smiling dreamily.
�There�s one more thing to do before we can get well started.�
�What?� Beth answered.
�We move to a new apartment.�
�I�ve just got this one in shape.�
�Whine, whine,� Jenny giggled. �It won�t be for a little while; we need to get the rest lined up first and they need an opening for us. You�ll love it when you see it.�
�Oh? Right now?�
�Yep. The gal we need to see is in.�
Beth raised her hands to press the hidden release that would remove her collar.
�You can wear it. They�ll expect it,� Jenny said.
�Oh!�
Jenny took out her reader and fingered the back for a moment. �Let�s go.�
The ponygirl taxi was just pulling up as they left the building. Jenny handed Beth in and then slid into the other side. She pressed the go button, and the ponygirl moved smoothly out, her tail moving from side to side as her powerful legs pulled the taxi along.
�She�s beautiful,� Beth breathed, watching the ponygirl�s mane flutter in the breeze.
�So she is,� Jenny agreed. Her lover had come a long way since that first day at the rental agency.
�This is it?� Beth asked as the taxi stopped in front of a five story brownstone apartment building that was arranged in an open U shape around a central lawn.
�Yep,� Jenny said. �And this must be the apartment agent?�
�I certainly hope so,� the woman who walked up to meet them said. �I�m Mabel, and you�re Jenny and Beth?�
�I�m Jenny,� Jenny answered.
�And your girlfriend must be Beth. You�ve got her in a passion collar. How sweet,� she gushed briefly.
Beth blushed and hugged Jenny.
�I know we talked, but I need to be sure. You do know we�ve got some special requirements.�
�I remember, but I wanted to surprise Beth.�
�I love the expression the first time someone sees it,� Mabel said. �Let�s show you 226.�
�It�s about like our old one,� Beth said a bit doubtfully.
�Well, we don�t have the money to move up,� Jenny replied. �So let�s look at the real amenity.�
�That�s downstairs,� Mabel said, locking the door as they left.
�This is, of course, not to be talked about.� She opened a solidly built door in the basement.
�It�s a dungeon?� Beth gasped.
�Exactly. The part you�re interested in is back here,� Mabel said, leading the way past a large X frame and several sets of shackles hanging from the ceiling into an open space. Beth stared at a large box with a hooded head sticking out the top. It had a tube running from the top of the box into the head�s mouth.
�We�ve got five cages behind this half wall,� Mabel said, leading the way behind a partition that seemed to extend one of the walls.
�Oh!� Beth wrinkled her nose when she saw the row of five cages, and then said �Oh!� again when she saw that one of them contained a naked girl sitting relaxed, hands palm up on her thighs.
�Wherever did you get them?� Jenny asked as she looked at the controls. �They look exactly like what Reliable and Hey Girl! use.�
�The same supplier,� she answered smugly.
�Off the record, of course.�
�Of course.�
Jenny stepped up and pushed a few buttons, looking at the readouts.
�She�s being trained?� She pushed a couple more buttons. �She doesn�t have a brain scanner installed. Or is it broken?�
�She doesn�t have a scanner. She�s a wild girl; we use her for general utility and cleanup. You know how to use these things?�
�I worked for Reliable for a few months before my college number came up,� Jenny answered idly.
�So you know all about them.�
�Well, I did qualify at level two on the cages,� she admitted. �You�ve got her trained not to talk?�
�She can�t.�
�Oh?�
�We installed the throat unit.�
Jenny gave Mabel a strange look, and decided not to ask where the girl could hear her.
�You�re going to put me in one?� Beth asked with a bit of trepidation.
�Well... Yes. It�ll speed up the conditioning routines if you can spend a few hours at a time just sitting and letting it shape the way your mind wanders.�
Beth looked at the waiting cage. �You�re going to be good, right?� she asked, patting it on the shelf. Jenny giggled.
�Here�s the engine trainer,� Mabel said, moving around the corner.
�Ah!� Jenny�s eyes lit up. �You�ve got a six engine setup.�
�It�s overkill. We have to schedule an event if we want all six mounts filled at once, but it lets us train without having to coordinate schedules.�
�That�s important,� Jenny agreed. �Back on your wild girl. How did you get her and manage to keep her?�
�She�d moved in and had a nice little nest where she thought we didn�t know about it. We knew she was there for a while. The committee checked what we could do with her, and found out that since we were fetishists keeping her in a cage and keeping her from talking would be legitimate, at least if she agreed and was able to leave if she wanted. It would be totally out of bounds for anyone else, of course.�
�Of course.�
�So we had the throat prosthesis made up and then confronted her. Told her to get out or let us keep her and put her to use. She gave us a sob story about being wanted by the police for something and promised to work for us if we�d hide her. We installed the throat unit right there and put her in the cage. It took a week or so to train her the way we wanted, but she hasn�t given us any trouble since.�
�How do you keep her from going stir crazy?�
�She�s got a reader. You can�t see it because she�s required to keep it hidden while anyone�s around. She�s got a storage account on our server. It�s open for any of us to look at, of course. She�s forbidden to put anything there that would identify her or that could be construed as begging for special privileges, and there�s an AI that checks, deletes it and notifies us. Then we revoke her reader privileges for a while.�
�It sounds like you�ve got her under control.�
�Oh, we do. It took a couple of months, but she�s accepted it now.�
�And now,� Mabel said as she led around a corner and then bowed, hand out, �the trainer!� They walked around the corner.
�What is that thing?� Beth gasped as she saw the pole seeming standing on the ceiling.
�That�s the automated trainer,� Jenny answered. �You�ve only got one?�
�Don�t need more, and that sucker is expensive.�
�I�ll bet,� Jenny answered. �We had 16, but they were all in use when we had most of the cages filled.�
�That must have kept you hopping�
�Oh, it did,� Jenny said reminiscently.
�Fortunately, we can use it for more than the ponygirls.�
�So how do you use her?� Jenny asked when they came back around. �Someone lets her out when they want her to do something?�
Mabel chuckled. �We�ve got a call system rigged. It buzzes her collar when she�s wanted. She pushes the button to get out and then checks to see where and what she�s supposed to do.
�She�s allowed to get out to hit the head and to feed herself, but she has to go right back. We monitor her, and if she�s out too long or can�t account for her time, she loses reader privileges. She absolutely hates that.�
�I can believe it,� Beth said with feeling. �So you keep her naked?�
�Well, of course. Why should we spend money on clothing? She�s very low maintenance.�
Jenny laughed. �Beth would probably throw the collar at me if I suggested I thought she needed help with the apartment.�
�You are so right, lover.� Beth snuggled up to take the sting out of it.
�But it�s nice to know that she�s available.�
�True,� Beth looked at the girl calculatingly.
�You like it?�
�Let�s take it,� Beth answered.
�You know,� Jenny said on the way back, �your attitude has changed.�
�You�re my husband, even if it doesn�t quite say that on my collar. It�s a wife�s duty to support her husband in all things. You think that taking advantage of them is fine, so I think that.�
She giggled. �The more I say that, the stranger it sounds, but it�s still true. That�s the way I was raised: when someone made me his wife, I was not to argue the imponderables with him. If he said something was true, it was true, and that was supposed to be the end of it.�
She stopped for a moment. �You make it easy. Your only criterion seems to be whether it�s acceptable enough to not get into trouble, and you seem to take a fairly wide view.�
�Of course, dear. Making waves wastes energy.�
�You�re looking a bit more, um, self-assured,� Shelly said as Audry slid into the booth.
�I�m feeling like I�m a bit more in control,� she answered as the server slid a snack plate onto the table.
�So how�s it going?�
�In pieces,� she laughed. �Jenny has me a couple of hours a day for training devices I didn�t know existed! They must have been keeping them in a back room somewhere.�
�Tell me!� Shelly leaned forward.
�One�s a ponygirl trainer. It�s this thing that stands on the ceiling and does rein training. It�s beginning to settle in so I�m reacting without thinking.�
�Stands on the ceiling?� Shelly giggled as her fingers stroked the back of the reader. �This?�
�That�s it.�
�Weird. What�s the other piece?�
�Something she calls the tentacle monster. It�s the resistance trainer from hell. Or your worst nightmares!� She giggled. �I�ve got to think it�s funny, or I�d be terrified.�
Shelly stroked her reader a moment. �They�ve got to be kidding! Is this it?�
�That�s it.�
Shelly looked at the image in her reader and shook her head. �Someone very perverted had to have designed it. How�s it working?�
�I�m getting stronger and I�ve got more stamina, but there�s something else going on that I�m puzzled about.�
�Well, tell me.�
�Jenny started me on it, and she coached me through the first few sessions. Then she just put me into it and took me out, and left me to its tender mercies except when she thought I needed some coaching. Then this guy shows up with her one day. He�s gorgeous, a jock type hunk, crew cut, muscles on his muscles.�
�Quit before I start drooling!�
Audry giggled. �OK. So they work together for a while, and then he takes over. Jenny hasn�t supervised my training for several weeks. She�s still around; I see her in the maintenance area a lot, but this guy has taken over the tentacle monster, and she�s got several of the ponygirls that are strapping me into the rein trainer and taking me out.�
�So you�re wondering what�s up with these things?�
�Just the tentacle monster. The rein trainer is obvious.�
Shelly�s fingers stroked her reader for a while. �Now that makes sense,� she finally said, sliding the reader into her purse.
�So tell me!�
�What he�s doing is muscle group isolation. Figure a jock would know all about that.�
�Muscle what?�
�Muscle group isolation. You�re being trained to be able to use the correct muscles for each exercise, and let the others relax. Jenny had a level 2 certification on both putting you in and taking you out and on coaching when she left Reliable. What she didn�t have was the certification on what to coach. She was letting someone else set it up for her. Obviously he�s a lot better.�
�Well, I can see that they�d want me to do it right, but I don�t understand why they�re covering the whole body.�
�I suspect the taxi service is doing it by the book, and the book covers everything a ponygirl can be called on to do. That�s a lot more than pulling taxis.�
�Makes sense.�
�There�s more,� Shelly said. �I don�t know whether they�ll teach you the rest.�
�More?�
�Yeah. They don�t ship a tentacle monster with each ponygirl to keep her in shape.�
Audry giggled at the image.
�They teach her a group of exercises she can do by herself with a small number of props. Mostly a couple of pulleys, ropes and weights.
�No health club subscription?� Audry giggled again at the image.
�Nope,� Shelly said. �So how�s your planning for getting out of there?�
�In one sense it�s better. At least I�m beginning to plan and carry it through again. On the other side it�s not coming at all. I have no idea of where to slide back into being legitimate.�
�I can do that for you.�
�That�s how. To slide back in as a collared worker I need an owner who�s got something for me to do that I can do and like. I�ve never had the slave training.�
�Point. I�ll have to let that jell.�
�So what do I owe you?�
�Nothing. That tentacle monster is worth a week of giggles.�
�See ya,� Audry said.
�Be well,� Shelly replied as Audry slid out of the booth.
�Nothing seems to be happening,� Beth complained a couple of weeks later.
�Oh?� Jenny said. �Nothing about what?�
�My ponygirl conditioning.�
�That�s because nothing�s going on. You had to get the surgeries; then I�ve been waiting for the rest of the equipment.�
�Equipment?�
�These. They arrived today.� Jenny picked up a box and opened it. �Good. Go into the bedroom and strip, lover. Let�s see if they fit.�
�Oh!� Beth scurried to the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way.
�Eager, eager,� Jenny laughed. Beth�s giggle floated into the hallway.
�What did you get me?� Beth practically bounced on the bed.
�Let�s start with this,� Jenny drew out an object and shook it out.
�Oh! A tail!�
�Your tail. Let�s see if it fits. Lie down.�
Beth flopped onto the bed, face down as Jenny took the end and slid it into the socket that had been surgically implanted in her tailbone the week before. It snapped into place with an almost audible click.
�There. It fits.�
Beth bounced up. �Ohhhh! It tickles.�
She twisted around, looking at it flow back and forth in the mirror.
�Why won�t it swish by itself?�
�It�ll take a while.�
�Everything takes a while,� Beth pouted.
�Of course, lover. The nerves have to connect, and that�ll take a week or so. Then you�ll have to practice.�
�I don�t remember your saying Audry had to practice with it.�
�She got a cheap model. This really is a prosthetic. It�s designed to power itself from your bloodstream and it connects to your nervous system. It�s really not connected with your ponygirl conditioning; you can wear it around the apartment building if you want so that you give it lots of opportunity to integrate.�
�Oh my. You really are doing it up, aren�t you?�
�That was the most expensive piece. The other two pieces are for the ponygirl and engine.� She pulled two other items out of the box and put them on the bed.
�That�s the jaw and throat prosthesis?� She picked them up and turned them over in her hands, looking curiously.
�Let�s see if they fit, and then you need to practice putting them in and taking them out.�
�Oh.� She picked up one of them. �This is the throat piece?�
�Yes. Open up. It goes in like this.�
Beth opened her mouth, and Jenny managed to get the bulky object in and settled.
�How�s that?� Jenny asked.
Beth opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
�Perfect!� Jenny responded as Beth tried to say something.
Beth�s eyes widened in sudden realization and she started to look scared.
�Come here, lover,� Jenny said, and gathered the smaller woman in her arms for a comforting hug.
�You know ponygirls don�t talk, and the throat piece is what keeps them from talking in the early stages.�
Beth finally relaxed, her breathing slowing down.
�Now let�s do the jaw piece,� Jenny told her silenced lover. �Open real wide.�
Beth�s eyes got big as the piece approached her face. Jenny slid it in and settled her teeth into the slots. She turned a knob, expanding the device until Beth�s eyes bulged, and then she turned another setscrew, securely locking it.
�Feels like it�s going to take your head off?� Jenny asked solicitously.
Beth nodded vigorously.
�Well, you�ll have to get used to it if you want to keep on.� She pulled the gagged girl over to her and began massaging the muscles of her jaw.
�Just keep breathing. That�s a good girl. Let those muscles relax. That�s a good girl.� She kept crooning until Beth�s jaw muscles relaxed.
�Let�s leave them in for another fifteen minutes. Then I�ll take them out.�
Beth looked at her lover pitifully, and then her body shook slightly with a giggle that had nowhere to go.
�Good girl!� Jenny praised her. �Come on out to the kitchen.� She hooked a finger in Beth�s collar ring and pulled.
A minute later she had taken some fruit and put it in the blender. She took it out, poured it into a small bottle with a plunger and a long tube, and approached her novice ponygirl with it.
�Nutrients.�
Beth�s eyes crossed as she saw the tube approach her face and vanish into her mouth. A moment later she felt as much as heard a slight click. Jenny pushed the plunger, and Beth felt the contents pour into her throat. She swallowed.
�Good girl!� Jenny praised her.
�I think that�s enough for the first session. Back to the bedroom.�
She carefully removed the jaw and throat devices.
�How�d it go, lover?�
�Intense,� Beth answered, clearing her throat to assure herself that her voice still worked. �So that�s what a ponygirl goes through?�
�Well, the first week can be excruciating until her jaw muscles and ligaments adjust. I didn�t see any pain after a week or so in the ones I worked on. There�s no reason for you to go through that; we�ll take it slowly and give your jaw time to adjust.�
�Good.�
�So how was the rest?�
�Not being able to talk was scary! Then walking out into the kitchen naked, and what you did to feed me ...� She took a deep breath. �Let�s say it�s going to take some getting used to.�
�Not as much as you�d think. We�ll do this every day until you can put them in and take them out yourself, and keep them in while you�re doing your housework. Once we�ve moved and they�re comfortable we�ll schedule three and four hour sessions in one of the cages three or four times a week. You should quit noticing that there�s anything strange in a month or so.�
�Is that all?�
�Goddess, no! There�s a lot of training to do, but we�ll do most of it on cage time. You�ll go into the cage, and I�ll take you out for training sessions and put you back afterwards.
�It takes about six months to fully train either a ponygirl or a lead engine. Back engines can be done in a bit less time, but it still takes time to build the strength and stamina and make sure they can stay mounted for a week or more without problems. That takes fairly large blocks of time; even with the best preparation there�s no way to spot problems other than to do it and see what happens.�
�Engines should be simpler than ponygirls, right?�
�Well, almost. The lead engines have to be rather thoroughly trained so they can drive the vehicle. It�s a cooperative task between the engine and the vehicle�s computer.�
Beth thought for a moment. �I think I rushed into this with more enthusiasm than planning,� she finally admitted. �I still want it, but I�d like you to tell me what you�re going to be doing to my brain. It�s my only brain, and I kind of like it the way it is.�
Jenny giggled. �You should already know, lover. We talked about it on the way up here.�
�That was a long time ago! Tell me again.�
�The key point is that we condition ponygirls and engines so that they don�t use a lot of the brain�s functional areas and pathways. We call the way someone uses her brain a functional pattern, and there are four of them we work with: normal, interface, ponygirl or engine room, and mounted engine.
�Both ponygirls and engines are trained to use the ponygirl or engine room functional pattern. It�s the same pattern, just the name is different because there�s different training that goes with it. It�s a viable chunk, but it doesn�t include the language areas or what we normally consider �higher functions�.�
�Viable chunk?�
�A ponygirl would be able to live wild. They ran some experiments some time ago, and found that they could get ponygirl tribes to live in wilderness areas just fine. As long as you teach them how to fight, they�re quite capable of taking out an adult chimpanzee or most predators. They garden beautifully, but they never managed to teach them how to do organized agriculture.
�To continue: the mounted engine function pattern is just enough to run their body, pedal the generator, watch the road and steer the car. The interface functional pattern is the same as the ponygirl functional pattern plus additional areas and connections that let you consider your situation and whether you want to stay in the ponygirl or engine room state or come out to your normal state. Ponygirls and engines don�t have that.�
�That�s how you�ve got Audry trained?�
�Right. When she�s on shift she can only use the same functional pattern as the regular ponygirls. When she�s off shift but still on the premises, she can use the interface functional pattern, which means she can decide to take the prosthetics out and go out for a night on the town. Or leave permanently, although that�s not too likely yet. She doesn�t have any choice whether she goes on shift or off shift; the taxi service�s scheduling computer controls it.�
�So engines go into the mounted engine state when they�re put on a mount?�
�A bit earlier. They go into it when they�re hobbled, bound and put on a dispenser. They�ll stay there until they�re returned to an engine room.�
�How does my brain know when to shift?�
�When you put the jaw and throat units in or take them out. Once you put them in, you�ll go into the interface state, and you won�t return to your normal state until you take them out. There are a number of triggers we can set up to shift between the regular ponygirl state and the expanded state, and to switch to the engine state.�
�I suppose that�s as good as I�m going to get without learning to read the diagrams,� Beth laughed. �It sounds like a lot of work.�
�Oh, it is. But I�ll learn a lot from it.� She hesitated a moment. �So will you.�
�So what else was in that box?�
Jenny picked it up and took out two long, hairy tubes. �Your leggings.�
�Oh!� Beth stroked them and then shed her skirt. �I�m going to try them on.�
�And next?�
Jenny took out something that looked like a wig, except that the center was something that wasn�t hair. Beth looked at it doubtfully. �That will make my hair look like a mane?� she asked as she took it over to the dresser and sat down, tail falling off the end of the chair. She looked at it again and then started brushing her hair toward the center, pinning it up so it looked somewhat like a mane. She put on the headpiece and applied the brush again.
�This has got possibilities,� she pronounced. �I need to work on it a bit. It�s still lumpy.�
�So it is, lover. I know you�ll get it.�
�It wouldn�t dare misbehave!�
Jenny giggled. �Here�s the final piece.�
�Paper?�
�Tattoo appliqu�s. They�re for your engine mount adjustments. They�ll wash off with the correct solvent. I probably won�t use them, though.�
�Oh. Why not?�
�The parameters are stored in your collar for automatically adjusting mounts. It�s a bit clumsier to use my reader while adjusting the mount, but it�s workable, and it saves applying the tattoos and removing them.�
�You�re really looking good,� Shelly said as Audry slid into the other side of the booth.
�I�m feeling good. I think I�ve got it figured out, but I want a bit of backup.�
�Oh?�
�Yeah. Just ask if Hey Girl! wants to take me. That�s their business, after all.�
�That might work. What�s the hangup?�
�I don�t want to take the chance that they�ll track me down and turn me in instead of taking me as a collared worker.�
�I don�t think that�s likely,� Shelly said. �Still...� She took out her reader and began to stroke the back lovingly.
She looked at the results and laughed. �They�ve not only got a procedure for it, they�ve got an application form. It�s still a risk, because they will turn you over to Reliable if they think you belong there.�
Audry shrugged and took out her reader. �Shoot me the form. I�ve been living with ponygirls for almost three years, and they seem to be a happy bunch. I�ll take the chance. What�s likely to be more of a problem is learning to say �yes, ma�am, right away ma�am� and mean it.�
Shelly laughed. �I know what you mean.�
Jenny sat quietly watching the rein trainer marching Beth across the room. She�s getting better, she thought as she checked the brain monitor and nodded.
Then she sat back and let the sight of her roommate wash through her. Beth was a bay; blond hair, blond tail and blond leggings. Right now she was lightly tacked up with just a bridle. The reins came back to the trainer. The thing moved across the ceiling with awesome silence.
Just then she felt a hand on her shoulder.
�Eep!� she turned around to look at who. Male. Check. Jutting jaw. Check. Piercing eyes. Check. Unshakable air of dominance. Check. Just approaching middle age at around 70. Check.
�Hi Richard. You startled me.�
�Darn,� he responded. �She�s coming along nicely.�
�Pretty good for just a few sessions.�
�I�d say darn good.�
�How much practice have you had training?�
�Not as much as you, obviously. Where�d you learn?�
�Reliable. I worked in the ponygirl training section for three months before coming to college.�
�You�re a professional!�
�Well, kinda. There�s a lot to training a ponygirl properly, and three months isn�t much more than a good start on learning all of it. Fortunately I worked at the front end, and we really aren�t interested in turning her into a real ponygirl for long periods of time. Well begun and all that.�
�True. She really seems to be into it.�
�Of course,� Jenny answered, taking a moment to admire her roommate making the turn around the far corner of the room.
�Of course?�
�Right now she�s only got the same parts of her brain active as real ponygirls. It�s still a little rough, but she�s right on schedule.�
�You�re doing that to her? We�ve looked at it and decided we didn�t want to touch it.�
�If I hadn�t learned at Reliable, I wouldn�t want to touch it either. It isn�t the same conditioning as a ponygirl. It�s more complex, and there is one critical part that is really custom design. Don�t do it and she�ll get addicted to being a ponygirl, botch it and you�ve got a real mess on your hands that will take a professional to resolve. And you probably won�t be around to see it happen.�
�I�ve heard it�s addictive. How do you avoid it?�
�By making her day to day life at least as attractive. That�s the custom design part; it has to fit smoothly into the rest of her personality and support itself.�
Richard frowned. �And that would take a good deal of expertise.�
�Right. It�s something that I�m barely qualified to do, and that�s only because I�ve got a graduate seminar that will rip my plans to shreds if they don�t make sense.�
�You�re in grad school?�
Jenny giggled. �Not by a long shot. The department�s got me in the seminar so they can keep an eye on me.�
�That�s strange.�
�No stranger than your hand straying to where it�s not wanted, Richard.� She gently shoved it away from the vicinity of her right breast.
�Oops.�
�Come off it. You�re a prime dominant male and you know it. You know I know it, and you know that I�m attracted.�
He backed up a couple of feet. �So why?�
�Am I not throwing myself at your feet and spreading my legs? I�d love to, but I need the lines drawn first, and I need them drawn by both Beth and Donna.�
�What does my wife have to do with it?�
�Probably nothing. Most wives don�t worry much about where their husbands are catting around, but I need to hear it from her, not from you.�
�Your girlfriend is wearing your collar. She should accept what you do.�
�She does, usually. Obedience has its limits. She regards me as her husband, so she�ll most likely accept it without a fuss. I don�t know that though until I check. I�m not into the �see how far you can push your slave� bit, and that is one of my hard limits.�
�You�re harder than I thought,� he said.
�Well, yes. On the other hand I think a down payment to hold the reservation might be appropriate.� She slid a hand behind his waist and pulled gently. His arm encircled her waist as he pulled her the rest of the way. She lifted her head to his lips.
�Wow!� she said inelegantly a few minutes later. �That was hotter than I expected.� She patted his bulging erection gently. �That�s to hold the reservation.�
�I need a cold shower.�
Jenny giggled. �Some of Beth�s passion must be leaking.�
�Now that I�ve seen what you�re doing with your girlfriend,� he continued, �is there anything you could do with Girl?�
�You really call her that?� she giggled again.
�There�s a name on her collar, but it probably isn�t her real name, and we don�t want to spread it around anyway.�
�The fewer people who know it, the better. Besides, I think collared workers are all trained to react to �Hey Girl!� anyway. So what do you want to do?�
�Train her as an engine.�
�Why?�
�So we can use her on trips. We�ve got a number of slaves that can play engine, but they don�t last.�
�No stamina and no focus,� Jenny agreed. �There�s a legal concern, and then I�d have to get permission from my seminar supervisor. I was planning on starting Beth in a month or so, when the ponygirl programming has stabilized and she�s finished with the Tentacle Monster. From there it�s going to be new territory.�
�Legal? I suppose so. What�s the Tentacle Monster have to do with it? Besides scaring her witless?�
�Engines,� Jenny said didactically, �are in one position for a week or more at a time. That would lead to cramps, circulation problems, blood pooling and all sorts of unlovely stuff.�
�So they must be trained to do some kind of muscle exercises. Talk about missing the obvious!�
�Right. They�re trained in two stages. Ponygirls in three. The first stage is with the Tentacle Monster for muscle group isolation.�
He slapped his forehead. �Of course. Second stage is obviously voluntary control by muscle group and isometrics. What�s the third?�
�How to set up ropes, pulleys and weights for strength and stamina exercises. That�s for ponygirls; engines exercise on engine mount trainers.�
�Which we have. You know the whole sequence?�
�I qualified at level 2 on the tentacle monster and on coaching, and barely level 1 on all the theory behind muscle group isolation coaching. The rest I�ve never done; those were in different units. The third stage for ponygirls is supposed to be obvious � to a trained ponygirl. Show her once and she�s got it. I can probably learn it in a few sessions. Then I�ll be able to teach it, but only to trained ponygirls.�
�I see. I think we�ve got a couple of guys that learned isolation and isometrics in college. The good thing is that I don�t think we need any special permission?�
�I can�t imagine why we would. We aren�t screwing with her head or making any physical modifications that would prevent her from walking out.�
�So you need to talk to Donna,� he switched subjects.
�If you want to get into my panties, yes.� She giggled.
�Which I do. Let�s make another down payment. Make lips!�
Jenny felt herself close her eyes and tilt her head back. It was, a stray thought suggested, almost involuntary.
�We meet again,� Lt. Forsyth said, standing to shake hands over his desk.
�I gather I�m not in trouble,� Jenny said as she took his hand. �So what�s it about?�
�We got a question from the committee in your apartment building, and we thought you�d probably be the best person to fill us in on what�s going on.�
�Oh?�
�They asked about whether it was legitimate to train the wild girl they�d acquired as an engine.�
�Right. They want to train Girl.�
�Part of the perplex is that we weren�t aware that they�d acquired a wild girl. They asked a hypothetical question a year or so ago, and we haven�t heard anything since. We don�t even know which one. Wild girls go missing all the time. Sometimes we find a body, sometimes they get a hacker to change their identity. We don�t try to keep track. As far as we�re concerned, if they don�t cause problems and there aren�t too many of them in an area, we let them be.
�So checking our records, it could be any one of three.� He swiveled a display toward her. �Recognize any of them?�
�Could be this one,� Jenny said hesitantly.
The lieutenant called up another display and looked at it. �I�d need a more positive ID before saying for sure, but if it is her you can do anything you like. She�s got a pretty bad record, and we were about to pick her up and send her down to be turned into an engine anyway.�
�Anything I like is a pretty big blank check, Lieutenant.�
�Within reason, girl! You want to train her as an engine, go ahead. Just make sure you don�t make a mess.�
�Check.�
�Make sure you get your seminar advisor�s approval.�
�Check.�
�So,� he looked at it. �For the record, how are they treating her?�
�She�s kept naked in a standard ponygirl and engine training cage. Well, almost standard; these cages have a fitting for her waste valve. They installed a prosthetic throat unit so she can�t talk. She thinks it�s permanent. She�s got a reader to amuse herself. When they want her to do something, they buzz her collar, she gets herself out of the cage and checks the readout, does whatever and gets back into the cage. She�s also allowed out to get a nourishment dispenser. I don�t think she knows how to prepare it; they keep a supply of nourishment dispensers in a little fridge.�
�How�s she taking it?�
�They got her several months before I got there. She seems, um, content.�
�Well,� he said, looking at the display, �it�s certainly a creative interpretation of what they were told they could do. When you tell them about our meeting you might mention that it�s not how they�re treating her that concerns me, it�s how they�re treating her.�
�Huh? Oh!�
�So what are your plans? I presume that you�re going to be doing the training.�
�If my advisor approves,� Jenny replied. �The next step is the surgeries. That�s the brain wave scanner, the catheters, the gene mods and the breast hooks. Unless you tell me otherwise we won�t do the permanent throat unit, and I have no idea where to get a permanent jaw unit even if it was permitted. That means we�ll go with a prosthetic jaw unit.�
He made a few notes. �That sounds about right.�
�We�ve already started her on the Tentacle Monster. We�ve got a couple of jock types that are reasonably well qualified on muscle isolation and all that stuff. That doesn�t need approval.�
�Right.�
�Then I�ll install the engine functional patterns. That will require some custom work to neutralize the addictive effect. That�s what gets most of the attention in the seminar.�
�What are the patterns?�
�I call them interface, engine room and mounted. Engine room is the same as the ponygirl�s functional pattern and mounted is the pattern while the engine is installed on an engine mount. Interface is part way in between a normal person�s way of using her brain and the ponygirl or engine room pattern; it lets her know who she is and what she�s about without giving her access to language and most �higher functions�. I install it when a person is going to be an engine or ponygirl part time.�
�So that�s how you�re training your girlfriend?�
How did Beth suddenly get in here? �Uh, yes.�
�I take it she�s in control?�
�Depends. She�ll slide into interface when she puts in the jaw and throat prosthetics and she�ll go back to her normal state when she takes them out. She�ll go into the ponygirl pattern whenever she�s harnessed or restrained. She�s got a little self-hypnotic trigger that will put her in the ponygirl pattern from interface and another one that will pull her all the way out to her normal state. There�s a command that will do it, and some but not all of the normal commands will do it as well. There�s a command that will take her from ponygirl to interface as well as a number of situational triggers.�
�You invented all of this yourself?�
�Goddess, no! That�s the way I was trained at Reliable.�
�So it�s a standard configuration. Interesting.� He nodded thoughtfully. �I gather that Reliable doesn�t let it out?�
�If you know where to look there are descriptions together with the brain function diagrams. Just about every therapist has studied them; they make a great case study. One thing I learned in the seminar is that none of the other students will touch actually doing it. That�s not because there are ethical problems, it�s because there are a lot of little details that need to be gotten right, and it takes a great deal of time. Reliable has an AI that supervises the whole process, and then the night shift people also monitor it and make adjustments as needed.�
�That makes sense; nobody but Reliable and the fetishists would be interested. So what happens after you�ve got the functional patterns installed?�
�Well, the break point is a bit earlier, after the engine room pattern is stable and she�s learned the isometrics. Then they start training her while she�s mounted. It starts out with relatively short periods and gets longer and longer until she can stay mounted for between 8 and 10 days, although they only certify them for a week. They do strength and stamina in parallel with road situations and driving, and continue with maintenance training while she isn�t mounted.�
�So you�ll be going into territory you haven�t explored very well. Be careful. So far you haven�t made any serious missteps.�
He stood up to end the interview.
�What are we doing here?� Ceil asked.
�Jenny invited us, and she�s paying,� Denise answered. �Maybe answers?�
�I�d like a few myself,� Estelle said, running a hand through her luxuriant chestnut mane.
�Well, here she comes,� Gina got up and waved at her.
�Hi girls!� Jenny greeted them as she held out a chair for Beth. �This is my girlfriend and roommate, Beth.�
�If it wouldn�t be prying,� Isobel said, �she�s wearing a collar and you�re holding her chair?�
�It�s a passion collar,� Gina reproved.
�Still.�
�Can it,� Ceil told the two. �Jenny�s paying, and I�m flat.�
�You�re probably not. Check your account balance.�
�What account balance?� Ceil said, but obediently got out her reader and fingered the back for a moment.
�I�ve got an account balance?�
�All of you do.�
The server spread appetizers around while the rest of them checked.
�The balances,� Jenny said once the server had vanished, �are because the Taxi Service decided that they should pay you. It�s below minimum and they�re taking room and board out, but it�s still credit.�
�Got it,� Estelle said. �So they know about us, right?�
�Have all along,� Jenny confirmed. �The reason for bring you all together is that we just got a memo from executive that said we couldn�t keep you in the dark. I�ve got other reasons as well for talking to you.�
�Other reasons?� Ceil asked.
�Yes. Let me start by making sure we�ve all got the same background. Over the last year I�ve been conditioning you so that you�ve now got both the ponygirl and interface functional patterns installed in your brains, and there are a set of transition rules between those two and your normal state.�
She held up a hand to forestall questions.
�The ponygirl functional pattern is running your brain while you�re on shift, and the interface pattern is running it while you�re off shift. The difference is that while you�re off shift you know who you are and what you�re about, and can make decisions about whether you want to shift to your normal state and go out clubbing. Or leave permanently, for that matter.
�Real ponygirls don�t have that option: the ponygirl functional pattern is running their brains and it�s a locked pattern: there isn�t a way out to their old �normal� state.�
�So that�s what�s been going on,� Denise scowled.
�Exactly. One more piece of background. Well, two. This is the way Reliable does it when they want to train someone to be a ponygirl part time. Reliable trained me that way, so that�s the way I train. People with ponygirl or engine fetishes should organize it this way, but they are frequently quite sloppy. Or totally clueless about how to do it safely.�
�So we walked into it,� Estelle grumphed.
�That�s one way of putting it. Hold that thought for a while. The final background piece here is that you�ve all got a piece missing to make it work properly. The ponygirl state can be very seductive for a lot of reasons, especially if your normal life isn�t real good. It�s a siren song of living a life where everything works and the �gods� supply whatever you need.
�A standard consensual install makes enough changes to the normal state so that the ponygirl state isn�t all that attractive on balance. It�s too limiting, although you can�t see the limits from inside. Right, honey?�
�That�s what I�m finding,� Beth agreed.
�The hangup here is the personality changes are really custom design; everyone is different and they�ve got to fit smoothly into the rest of the personality so they are sustained rather than be rejected or cause conflicts.
�I did Audry because she dug me out and my seminar leader decided that doing her would be a good learning experience. I didn�t do you because I don�t have either the time or the experience.�
�So�, Ceil summed up after the discussion, �I�ve got to decide whether I want to be a ponygirl full time or let someone fix my brain. Then what?�
�The next decision is whether you want to stay with the Taxi Service as a ponygirl and enjoy yourself on your off time, or whether you want to move on, either as a wild girl or by rejoining the system officially. Either of those options will take some work; you�ve all deteriorated more than a little by pretending to be ponygirls for too long. It�s not hard; the health service has focused exercises that will let you get your mind back in shape to live independently.�
�Rejoin the system?� Isobel asked. �I didn�t think it was possible.�
�It is. That�s why Audry isn�t here. Hey Girl! accepted her for training a couple of weeks ago.�
�So she�s headed for being a collared worker.� Ceil frowned.
�Right. That�s where she was headed if she hadn�t dropped out. She might be one of the rare ones that makes it to senior worker.�
�So where would I wind up?�
�Before I tell you, let me hedge a bit. I had a hacker dig up your school records, and I�ll tell you where you were headed. However, Audry�s problem was personality and the fix to keep her from being seduced by the ponygirl state also fixed that, so you may not be headed there any more.�
�Got it. So tell me!�
�Ceil. Collared worker. Denise. Ponygirl. Estelle. Engine. Gina. Ponygirl. Isobel. Engine.�
�You�re kidding!� Isobel exclaimed.
�Nope. The police were just about ready to pick you up when I started working with you. The two of you have got real bad records, and it�s going to take time to build a better record so people will be willing to take a chance on you. It�s completely up to you, but I�d recommend that both of you decide to stay with the taxi service for a few more years and work on building a decent record while you�re out enjoying yourself.
�For the rest of you, I�d recommend that you take the time to work through the recommended exercises to strengthen the parts of your brain that have deteriorated and then check into having Hey Girl! train you as collared workers.�
Isobel scowled. �I know what being a ponygirl is like. What�s it like to be an engine?�
�Engines don�t remember anything from when they�re mounted,� Beth said.
�So it�s almost like being a ponygirl,� Jenny added. �It really depends on the company that owns you. Most companies try to use their engines the same way the taxi service does: housekeeping and maintenance. The difficulty is that if you�re owned by a company that does long haul or one way operations you�ll be in a different engine room each time you�re unmounted, which makes it hard to integrate properly with a housekeeping operation. Those companies tend to keep at least some of their engines in cages.
�They also,� she added, �keep troublemakers in cages.�
�You�ve made your point,� Estelle said. �If I want a life, I�ve got to have my brain washed.�
�Your wife is an incredible cook,� Jenny told Richard.
�Why, thank you,� Donna said.
She really was beautiful when she smiled, Jenny thought. Pity she didn�t do it more often.
�One of her many talents,� Richard agreed, obviously pleased.
Jenny sat back. �Let�s cut right to the bedroom scene. You�d like to make both of us your mistresses, but I�ve been hesitant to get into that close a relationship because there are a few issues to settle first.�
�I thought this dinner would settle them.�
�Oh, it did the first layer. Beth wants an affair with you, don�t you, love.�
�Believe it,� Beth answered. �That�s one prime piece of alpha male. Let me off the leash and I�ll go howl at the moon.�
�And my read on Donna is that, while she�s not really enthusiastic, she�s got no illusions about your habit of taking young women as mistresses and then discarding them in a few years, and she really likes it to be open and above-board.�
�So what�s the hangup?�
�Your wife is desperately unhappy.�
�What?�
�She�s desperately unhappy, and you�re either unaware of it or ignoring it. She�s really trying to be a good wife, but the fact is that your personalities don�t match real well. You could keep it going while you still had children, but they�ve been gone for what, ten years?�
�About that,� Donna confirmed.
�She was probably the ranking beauty in your graduating class, and you were probably the dominant alpha male.�
�Right,� Richard smiled reminiscently.
�That doesn�t necessarily make for a good marriage. A personality match is more important, and you most likely ignored everything they tried to teach you in the boy�s sex and marriage course about it. And she probably did the same, for the same reasons. You had the girls fawning over you, and she had the guys, and you were both young. You both thought you deserved the very best, and you ignored the longer term issues.�
Richard�s face froze, and then he took a deep breath and sighed. �I suppose that, in a few years, I�ll look back on this conversation as being a very important turning point. You�re right, I�ve been trying to avoid looking at the situation.�
�And it�s incredibly hard for an alpha male to accept that kind of a slapdown, especially from a female.�
�True.�
�If I�m reading the situation properly, you�re both on the edge of disaster. Donna is at risk for sliding into the ponygirl state and not coming out, and if she does that the authorities are going to get involved. They�ll ask who and why, and they always look at the spouse when one or the other goes over the edge.�
�Could you fix that?�
�In a word, no.� She held up a hand to forestall a retort. �It�s not a matter of won�t. I could do most of it. Her ponygirl and engine patterns are real sloppy, and I could reinstall them so they work properly. I�ve done it a number of times. Doing it over the current messy situation would be a challenge, but I don�t think it�s beyond me.
�What is beyond me is the final adjustment to her normal functional pattern that would keep her from sliding over the edge into the ponygirl pattern full time. That�s because it not only has to fit smoothly with her personality, it has to interact smoothly with yours, and the two of you have major mismatches.
�I also don�t want to get into a conflict of interest. If Beth and I get into a major relationship with you I can�t be doing anything to her that isn�t strictly routine, totally open and will stand up under a rigid scrutiny by people that don�t like me very much.�
Richard looked at her. �If I�m understanding you correctly, you�re saying no.�
�I�m saying unless. It�s no both to having a major relationship and to installing the ponygirl and engine patterns properly unless you get yourselves in to see a marital counselor officially and get the situation resolved.�
�I�ve tried,� Donna said unhappily.
�I know you have,� Jenny answered as Richard looked at his wife in surprise. �The usual assumption is that it�s the wife that needs to adjust, and most people try to keep it off the record. It�s my admittedly student assessment that both of you are going to have to meet somewhere in the middle, and it�s way beyond what a therapist can be expected to do unofficially.�
�I was afraid of that,� Richard admitted.
�With good reason. Nobody likes to be told that their personality needs fixing.�
�I�ll admit to grasping at straws, but what�s likely to happen if we don�t?�
�Without going into detail, I think she�ll do something within a year that will get the authorities involved. They�ll finger you as the major issue. Worst case they�ll condemn you, which means you�ll get a sex change and be sent down as an engine.�
�You�re not joking, are you? No, I can see you�re serious.�
He turned to Donna. �Hon, set up an appointment with the health service for both of us. You know my schedule.�
Donna�s smile, Jenny thought, made her really, really beautiful.
�What did you do to them?� Lt. Forsyth asked Jenny.
�Do to who?�
The Lieutenant shook his head. �The last two fake ponygirls you had at the taxi service. We�re just processing the pickup orders on them, and they�ve vanished.�
�I told them you were processing the admin, and they were going to be engines. I gave them a choice. They could cut and run, they could turn themselves in, or they could come work for our building.�
�You gave them a head start?� He shook his head.
�Oh, I would have. I even told them I�d tell you the collar codes to trace once they left. Beth and I had a small bet about how far they�d get before you picked them up.�
�They could have ditched the collars.�
�Not after I quick welded them.�
He sat back and laughed. �That�s rich! So they decided to work for you. What was the deal?�
�They�re living in training cages in the basement. They�ve got the permanent throat units and they�re going to have the engine alignment tattoos as soon as we get them measured properly. It�s pretty much the same deal as Girl; I�m leaving them enough of their normal and interface brain patterns so they can amuse themselves with a reader while they�re in their cages. I was going to wait a few days and then have a hacker put through the admin that connects your pickup warrant with our having them legally.�
Life, Jenny thought, was good. She snuggled up against Richard�s manly arm and chest as the roadster made its way into the mountains toward the summer cottage that he�d rented in a kink-friendly resort area.
She and Beth had just finished their junior years with exemplary grades, and they had a few weeks off before having to start on the between year assignments.
She kept an eye on the engine display that rotated among the four engines in the engine compartment behind them. Both Beth and Donna were performing well; Beth as the forward front engine and Donna as a rear engine. All the readouts were nominal, and their brain scans were exactly on target.
The other two engines, Estelle and Isobel, weren�t doing quite as well, but Jenny was willing to cut them some slack. She�d only had about four months to work on them, and they were still a bit rough. The two day trip was going to cut their mount time a bit fine; they�d been mounted for longer in test runs without showing problems, but she really preferred a wider margin. They were both qualified in the rear driver slot; she was using Estelle for that, and would switch to Isobel for the second day.
Enjoy it while it lasts, she told herself. Richard was getting more than a bit restive. It wasn�t as if she hadn�t expected it; Richard�s tendency to take college girls for mistresses and then drop them after a couple of years was well known. She was mildly surprised that he hadn�t dumped her months ago.
�When are we going to break up, Richard?� she asked as she snuggled a bit deeper between his arm and his chest.
�Why do you think we�re going to, pet?� he asked, genuine surprise in his voice.
�We�ve been your mistresses for almost two years, and you�re beginning to show a lot of interest in the current crop of freshmen. It�s getting close to your switch time.�
�Well, maybe,� he said, suddenly thoughtful. �Donna wants us to keep you and you know what? The freshmen are looking awfully young.�
�You�re saying that?� she giggled. �You�ve been robbing the cradle for decades.�
�So I have,� he chuckled. �There�s some real hot chicks in the coop, but you�re the one with the sauce. You�ve got depth. They may get depth some day, but right now they�re good for soaking the sheets and not much more. I have to admit, it boosts my ego to have the chicks falling all over me, and it gives Donna a boost to see it as well. She likes to think she got the chick magnet.�
�She certainly did.�
�She�s got me convinced. I�m keeping you if you want to be kept.�
�Of course I want, guy. You keep saying me, though. What about Beth?�
�Beth I could take or leave, but since she comes with the package I�ll take her. She might be the hottest girl I�ve had the pleasure of fucking, but she�s so totally yours it�s bizarre. I�d suspect you had her brainwashed if I didn�t know you had her brainwashed. There�s no real chemistry outside of tab A in slot B.�
�I could make some?�
�It�s you I want, not Beth. In fact, Donna is talking about you as my second wife.�
�I hope you told her why not.�
�Why wouldn�t you?�
�No credibility as a professional. I�d have to be at least 50 and more likely closer to 60 to have credibility while wearing a collar. A young woman wearing a wife collar is assumed to be raising her family; an older woman wearing a wife collar is accepted as having finished raising her family and started working as a professional or senior worker.
�You�ve never seen Beth without her collar, but you can rest assured that she does not wear it except in the building and around campus.�
�So I ask you again in 30 years.� He chuckled. �Are you going to be around that long?�
�Only the Goddess knows. I�ve got no plans to leave. You�re as close to my dream male as I�m ever likely to get, and Donna is real easy to get along with.�
�Good.� He nudged her a bit and she snuggled in closer.
Life was good.
�We seem to be here,� Jenny said as the touring sedan rolled to a smooth stop.
�We certainly do,� Richard replied. �I�ll go see what it looks like.� He slid out the door and headed up the path.
Jenny walked back and opened the engine compartment. �Let�s see.� She put down the roll bar and slid the forward rack out. Five minutes later she had Beth and Donna unmounted. She looked at the two of them and then said �Interface!� in a commanding tone.
They shifted. Instead of the blank stare, they suddenly looked intelligent. Not human, but definitely intelligent. She handed them the little toolkit and they set to work taking the prosthetics out of their mouths.
�Well, we�re here,� she said after she had slid the empty rack in and closed the compartment.
�You�re not letting those two out?� Beth asked.
�In a while. The battery is a bit low, and we might as well get settled first. And get both of you dressed!�
�Well, let�s get the luggage inside so we can!� Donna said.
Jenny laughed and opened the luggage compartment.
Jenny held Beth while they looked at the fireplace, drinking in the quiet air of the cabin.
�I didn�t want to spoil the surprise,� Richard said from behind them as he put his hands on her shoulders, keeping her from turning. �So I had to mislead you a bit on the way up when you asked that question.�
�Oh?� Jenny said as he released her and she turned.
�Oh!� She froze as she saw what he had. The collar, leash and set of cuffs at his belt seemed to expand to fill the horizon. She hardly noticed that Donna had another set of cuffs and a leash on her belt.
�It�s a passion collar?� she breathed. �For me?�
�Yes. Do you want it?�
�Oh, yes!� She turned almost without volition and brought her arms together behind her back while Beth stared at Donna as if she was hypnotized.
Richard closed the cuffs around her wrists and arms and then brought them together, shackled at wrists and elbows. She turned again and sank to her knees, legs spread wide.
He held out the collar. �Read it.�
�Jenny Jackson and Beth Danials in devoted obedience to Richard and Donna Raven as long as their passion shall last.�
She looked up at him as Beth held a hand to her mouth.
�We couldn�t really take you without Beth,� Donna said in amusement. �She�s yours, but she has to be party to the vow. Do you want it too?� she asked Beth formally.
Beth�s eyes got round as well. �Yes!� She turned around and let Donna cuff her arms behind her. A moment later she knelt next to Jenny.
Richard touched Jenny on the head and she bowed before him, torso almost horizontal to the floor. He brushed her hair out of the way and slid the collar around her neck. The snap as the latch closed seemed to echo in the frozen stillness of her mind.
He put his hands on both their heads, pushing them down so they had to look at the floor. Donna put her hands on his.
�By my will,� he said.
�and my will,� Donna continued,
�and your wills, I, Richard Raven,�
�and I, Donna Raven,�
�accept from you, Jenny Jackson and you, Beth Danials, your passion, your devotion and your obedience, as long as your passion shall last. We accept this knowing that your, Beth Danials, primary allegiance is to and will remain to Jenny Jackson, and we commit that we will do nothing to compromise the ability of either of you to function as professionals in the community.�
He paused while the last words seemed to echo in the silence. Then he took his hands off the two girls� heads, letting them rise like a cork rising to the top of the water. He snapped the leash on Jenny�s collar ring and drew her toward the bedroom. She followed him, a look of stunned amazement on her face.
�Turn around,� Donna told Beth.
She turned and Donna unsnapped the cuffs.
�Let�s get this place organized.� The two wives walked out to the kitchen.
Jenny led Beth into the garden on her leash, hands cuffed behind her. Beth�s tail stood out jauntily as she followed Jenny to the meditation spot at the center.
Jenny�s collar gleamed against her skin, as bright as it had been this day 40 years ago when Richard had fastened it around her neck. Collaring Day was traditionally a day for the parties to a relationship to reflect on what had gone before.
She smoothed her skirt before sitting on the rock. Beth dropped to sit on her heels at her feet, tail coming out of the shorts she wore with the device. She took a deep breath and let one hand rest on Beth�s shoulder, the side just touching the collar she had put on Beth�s neck over 42 years before.
Her other hand brushed her own collar to start the remembrances flowing.
They had all changed. Richard had quit catting around and restricted his attentions to the three women in his household. Donna had loosened up a bit and developed a taste for Beth, although she wasn�t really interested in sex with Jenny. That suited Jenny just fine; Donna was, after all, 50 years older and she was perfectly content to develop a mother and tomboy relationship with her.
She remembered the initial battle when Richard had moved them into a single, larger apartment. Donna had expected Jenny to do her share of the housework, and Beth had refused to allow it. Donna had finally given in, although not without some compromises in other areas.
She reflected briefly on the ten years of effort it had taken to strengthen the parts of her brain involved in empathy. She could still deliberately shift to her old viewpoint where all that mattered was what someone could do for her, but she kept that carefully leashed except when she was working with someone who had chosen to have their personality restructured instead of being sent down as an engine. Or with her semi off-the-record business training part-time ponygirls and engines.
Richard, Donna and Beth had eventually outgrown their fascination with playing at ponygirl and engine. When Richard had moved them to this house, they had let almost all of the kink activity drop. All except Beth�s tail, which she insisted on wearing around the house and garden. Sometimes Jenny suspected it was more so she could wear shorts instead of skirts and dresses.
Beth had developed into a superb event organizer, every bit as well recognized in her field as Jenny.
Beth�s rigid �good girl� programming from her strict childhood had finished dissolving about thirty years ago, but they had agreed that Jenny was to maintain the husband�s role in her relationship with Beth.
Neither woman had removed her collar for over five years. Once they had obviously passed into early middle age, the automatic assumption that they were wife collars began to work toward their benefit.
She thought of the garden. She always glowed a bit when she thought of it. It wasn�t the garden itself so much as the work she had done with Estelle and Isobel. They had brought them along when they moved, and the two girls had pitched in and created the wonderland of flowers, shrubs and vines that surrounded her. Although the throat units prevented them from talking she had left them the ability to shift into a carefully crafted version of their old normal mode so they could use language and enjoy using their readers. They had rewarded her by creating the garden. They were still troublemakers, but they had learned a lighter touch, and their antics were more amusing than disruptive.
She let her eyes scan idly. Yes. There they were, hiding in the bushes so they could watch what their god and goddesses were doing.
She jerked out of her reverie as she felt a hand on her shoulder. �Richard! Donna!� She got up and pulled them into a four way hug.
�We thought a little present might be appreciated,� Richard told her, holding out two boxes. �One for you and one for Beth. You get to open both of them since Beth is a bit tied up at the moment.�
Donna laughed dutifully at the tired joke and took the first box. �What�s in it?� she breathed as she unwrapped the ribbon and opened it.
�Oh!� she put the box on the stone and lifted out the gleaming circle of a collar. She read: �Jenny, the devoted and obedient 2nd wife of Richard and Donna Raven.�
�You did!� She set it down carefully and threw herself into Richard�s arms.
�I take it you agree,� he said after they broke.
�If this one contains what I think it does...� She opened the second box and drew out a second collar. She held it so Beth could read it.
�It says: Beth, devoted and obedient 3rd wife of Richard, Donna and Jenny Raven.� She looked at Jenny, eyes dancing. �If you don�t agree, I�m going to throttle you. With my tail!�
�Of course I agree, love!�
Richard held up a pair of cuffs, and Jenny found herself turning to present her arms behind her back. He snapped them closed, fastening her arms at elbows and wrists. She turned and dropped to her knees.
He touched the hidden latch that opened her passion collar and removed it. Then he and Donna put their hands on her head as she leaned forward, torso almost horizontal to the ground, and started the familiar ceremony.
�By my will,�
�And my will,� Donna continued.
�And your will, I, Richard Raven,�
�And I, Donna Raven�,
�Accept your, Jenny Jackson�s, devotion and obedience as our second wife. You will be known as Jenny Raven from this day forward.�
He slid the new collar around her neck and closed it with the rivet gun. The sound seemed to reverberate in her mind almost forever, stirring echoes of the day she had graduated and had Reliable�s slave collar riveted around her neck.
She rose gracefully. Richard unsnapped her cuffs, and they merged into a three-way hug.
�Now for our already cuffed and patiently waiting Beth,� Richard said. �You�re going to do the extra vow?� He asked Jenny.
�Do you want me to?� she asked Beth.
�Oh, yes!�
He gestured and Beth sank to her knees and then bent forward. He took the passion collar off her neck, and then he, Donna and Jenny put their hands on her head.
�By my will,� he started the ceremony.
�And my will,� Donna continued.
�And my will,� Jenny added.
�I, Richard Raven,�
�And I, Donna Raven,�
�And I, Jenny Raven,� she said, a slight catch in her voice as she pronounced her new last name.
�Accept your, Beth Danials, devotion and obedience as our third wife.�
Jenny picked up the statement smoothly. �I, Jenny Raven, further commit to do whatever is in my ability to insure that your passion for each of us is intense, your devotion to each of us is pure and your obedience to our wills is swift and certain, within the bounds allowed by law and custom.�
�From this day forward,� Richard continued, �you will be known as Beth Raven.�
He slid his hand out from under Donna�s and closed the collar around her neck. The snap of the rivet gun echoed in the garden.
Beth rose gracefully, her tail high. Richard took her cuffs off.
Richard snapped a leash on Jenny�s collar as Donna snapped one on Beth�s. �Come!�
Jenny laughed as she walked behind her new husband. �So we�ve got a new first anniversary next year!�
�First?� Donna said from behind her. �That rivet gun must have addled your brain, girl! It�ll be your forty-first Collaring Day.�
Estelle and Isobel looked at each other from where they had hidden in the bushes to watch. They switched back from their normal state to interface and came in to clean up the discarded paper and ribbons that their god and goddesses had left behind.
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.