She had laid awake all night in her stall, too frightened and upset to sleep. The hay that was mounded up on the floor was soft, but the air in the barn was cool, and there wasn't anything she could to do get warm. If only they had given her a blanket or some clothes to wear, but, except for the tight leather tack that they dressed her in and the horrible tail-plug that was violating her anus, she was entirely naked.

Her arms were secured behind her back by a strap that was tied around one wrist, snaked up through a metal ring on the back of her leather collar and then came back down to her other wrist. This strap was short, so her hands were constantly at the same level on her back as her shoulder blades.

They had pierced both of her nipples last night. There was no anesthesia, no pain killers. Just hot metal needles, something that looked like a modified leather punch, and two small shiny brass rings.

She had almost fainted from the tremendous pain of this operation, but she got no sympathy from the man and woman who inflicted it on her. Quite the contrary. It was obvious that they thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

There was now a small brass chain that tightly strung her nipples together. Attached to this was another, heavier chain that was clipped to an iron ring on the wall of her stall.

She had been a slave now for over two months, but this was her first night as a pony. She had been obliged to serve in many ways with her other masters, but when she was bought at auction yesterday, her new master wanted another pony.

As she lay there on her bed of straw, she could hear sounds coming from outside her stall. She was not alone in the barn. There were other stalls that housed other ponygirls. Their muffled mewing and the rustling of their own straw beds as they began to stir drifted through the chilly air.

She rolled over on her side, stretched her stiff and aching body and gingerly made It to her feet. The restraining chain pulled against her swollen, newly pierced nipples as she came to her full height of five feet six inches.

Her jaw was tired from being thrust open all night due to the ball gag that was secured in her mouth. Drool ran down her chin and dripped off her ample, firm breasts. Her short cropped, blonde hair had bits of straw clinging to it that she could not brush away because her bound hands.

She looked down at her throbbing nipples and saw beads of milk hanging off them like little pearls. She had not been milked last night. Her breasts were ready to burst.

Her tack was a simple affair. It was comprised of half-inch wide red leather that tightly encircled both of her breasts. A strap hung down from each of the breast circles, criss-crossed at the base of her rib cage, dug into the soft flesh just about her hips and met in a small brass ring on her back just above her buttocks. From there, they dove down and disappeared in the crack of her ass, by-passed her tail on either side, and came in her crotch where they emerged from her moist and tender labia, straddled her clitoris, ran up her abdomen and strapped to the brass ring that joined the leather breast circles together.

The straps were tight. They dug into her skin. They chaffed and tore at her vagina. They stimulated and sawed at her clitoris.

She wore a simple headdress of leather and silver that strapped tightly under her chin, circled her head across her forehead to the back of her skull. The headdress had two perky pony ears fashioned out of blond leather that stood up proudly just behind each side of her temple.

Her head was foggy from fear and lack of sleep. All of her feminine parts ached or throbbed from the abuse that they had received over the last twenty-four hours. If the gag in her mouth allowed she would have sobbed the night away. Instead, tears welled over her eyelids, ran down her cheeks and mixed with the strings of drool that hung off of her chin.

She looked around as her stall filled with the early morning sunlight, and she took in her new surroundings for the first time. There was very little in her stall: a black rubber bucket filled with water was hanging from a hook in one corner. There was a metal trough next to it. Beside the trough was her bed of hay. A window striped with iron bars was situated high over her head.

The walls on three sides of the stall were made of rough-cut hemlock that ran up three and a half feet off the floor. On top of the hemlock boards were closely spaced iron bars painted powder blue that ran to the ceiling. She could look through the bars and see that her stall was just one of many that contained naked women dressed similarly to her, except none of them had ball gags in their mouths.

Movement from across the wide hallway suddenly caught her attention. On the other side of the concrete corridor that ran down the center of the barn there were more occupied stalls. The one directly across from hers was the one that now drew her interest. A woman dressed in pony gear was being attended to by a young woman wearing English riding attire.The pony was standing perfectly still as her hair was being brushed and tied with little pink bows. The difference between that pony's tack and her own was that the pony being attended to had a full bridle on her head, complete with a bit between her teeth and long braided reins that hung down in front of her.

When the rider was finished playing with her pony's "mane" she slid the door to the stall open and, with reins in hand, led her steed out into the hallway.

The new pony, who was watching with rapt attention, noticed that the pony in the hallway had on shiny black high heeled platform shoes that resembled horses hooves. As the pony followed her mistress, she brought her knees up high with each step in a showy dressage-style gait. "Higher, missy!" the woman who held the reins called out. "Step higher!" With that, the woman snapped a riding crop across the pony's bare bottom with a resounding crack. missy responded by lurching forward in surprise and pain. But then, she did as she was told and lifted her knees even higher as she was lead out of the barn.

What kind of a place is this? the new pony wondered. Women are treated like horses here, and we're whipped and used by other women! She turned and looked down the row of stalls. All of the other ponies seemed to be uninterested in what had just taken place. They just went on with life within their stalls, milling around, tossing their heads and waiting for similar things to happen to them.

I need to be milked, and I need to pee! the new pony thought as she glanced around her stall once again, looking for a place to relieve herself. Then she heard a new set of footsteps in the hall. Fearfully curious about almost everything in her new and strange world, she walked up to the bars of stall facing the corridor and saw a tall, thin man wearing a black cowboy hat, white shirt, blue jeans and cowboy boots. He carried what looked like a bunch of leather straps in his right hand and riding whip in his left. She watched as he continued to walk past stall after stall. Her heart leapt beneath her left breast when he stopped outside of her stall, unlocked the gate and slid it open.

The man stepped inside the stall and sized her up and down as the gate automatically slid shut behind him. She stood wide-eyed in the middle of the stall, staring at him and wishing desperately that she could cover up her feminine parts. The man saw her uneasiness and smiled saying, "Relax, girl." His gaze settled on her short blond mane and he said, "I just love palominos."