Nine Days

by SirJeff

- with original illustrations by PeterPD.
- do not use without the author's and artist's permission.


Day 7.


Laura roused from an incredibly erotic dream to a strange sight. Before her lay long blond tresses her very similar to her own. They seemed attached to a strange phallus-like something.

Unbeknownst to her, I had cut her long hair off during the night and glued it to a butt plug. She was still so young and naive to the ways of the worlds. She just gawked at it, clueless.

"Meet your new ponytail, girl. Yes, it is very like your own hair. In fact, it is your own hair."

She stared at me, shocked. Of course, with her wrists and elbows tied behind her, she could not move to check her hair. Slowly, I could see her comprehension, as she figured it out. She would not be my love slave, she would be some kind of pony girl! I kept looking deep into her lovely dark eyes, seeing bewilderment turn to shock, then to acceptance. I knew that whatever made her Master happy would henceforth make her cream. She truly was a delicious property.

I released her constrained arms from behind her and ordered, "Put your head to the floor and raise your rear, ponygirl!"

Laura wept her frustration, but obeyed instantly. As she cradled her head in her hands, she felt for and realized the absence of those long luxurious tresses on her head. Still, she barely grunted as I inserted her now-lubricated butt-plug tail of her own hair into her rear. There it would remain, impossible to expel, till I chose to take it out.

I made her stand, constrained her arms behind her, clipped her pony reins to her nipples, and led her back to the exerciser. There she spent another long uneventful day, walking in circles with her new donkey colleague, in the high stepped pony gait, getting used to her new rear appendage. I only had to come whip her once.

She followed me back to the bedroom, tail swishing, knees high. She looked surprised but accepted it docilely when she knelt to sleep still tailed.

Day 8.


The next morning I added the final touches to her harnessing. First came her pony bit. It was made of hard rubber and steel, with a tongue depressor going well inside her mouth.

Laura shuddered as she was bitted. The pressure on her tongue was quite unpleasant. She shut her eyes tight and chomped on the bit, concentrating on getting used to the feel. She was still adjusting when she felt the sharp prick in her septum. It was really painful, yet she immediately realized it was another piercing needle and stayed very still, feeling her own warm blood drip and ooze onto her upper lip.

The ring Master placed in her nose was humiliating and large, but she was in no position to do anything about it. Nor was she able to resist the little bells He clipped to her nipples.

I clipped a leather lead to her new nose ring and drew her outside by it for another of her all day workouts. It gave me pleasure to see her total humiliation - her bells chimed and her nose ring made her eyes tear. She was so pliant, obedient and clearly lovestruck. I saw that this once wild filly was almost completely broken in now.

Laura spent another day following the donkey around and around the exerciser. By now she could high step without even thinking about it. At first, the nose ring bothered her, bouncing against her upper lip with every step. Then she forgot about it, lulled into a thoughtless stupor by the jingling of her nipple bells. Still, somehow, all day she was really excited, wet, down there. A few times she almost came. It was all so confusing.

When Master took her to the bedroom, fed and watered her, Laura was almost in a trance, totally unaware that He had drugged her drink. She drifted to sleep, kneeling, tailed, dreaming of His body.

Day 9.


I let her sleep in the next day, still drugged, while I fitted her with pony boots. By the time she awoke near noon, I had also shaved her head into a mohawk cut, leaving her only a lovely blond central mane. Finally, the transformation of the still-virgin debutante was complete - she was to ready begin her life as Prince Peter's ponygirl.

I shook her awake. Then I watched as she stood up, tottering on her ponyboots, actually testing her high step without prompting. I led her to a full length mirror to see what she had finally become. So feminine, she sized herself up, posing and posturing, looking quite satisfied with what she saw. All the while, she kept glancing at me with a worshipful adoration that correctly signalled her female certainty I would finally take her, very soon.

When I took her and my horse out to my open pastureland, she took to her role with great zest, frolicking, running with tail billowing, even jumping in her pony boots. She behaved just like the pony she was.

I smiled, pleased. She was even more statuesque in her boots and her high blond mane. She was ever so sexy, ringed, belled, tailed, bitted, harnessed and branded. She was truly a vision. The exact vision I had of her the moment I saw her. Yes, she was perfect for my needs, and I had her, my ponygirl.





© SirJeff, March 2004