Chapter 3

Ponygirl

I was trotting down the road, high stepping as trained, bit loose in my mouth, all thoughts on running as I had not done since before my capture.

The buggy was immaterial, not even a hindrance. I was lost in my running as always, feeling free. My breasts were flapping as they always did since I ran without a bra when in the city. I shook my head and the bit jangled in my mouth and the air rushed past my naked body and that brought me back to the reality that was now. My breasts were really my udders and they gave milk and needed to be milked as cows and the bit controlled me. I was not really free but it did not matter since I was running.

I was quickly reminded of my position by a slight jerk on the bit in my mouth signaling me to slow down the speed I picked up while daydreaming.

I was not really free; I was controlled. I was controlled as I was trained to respond. Trained. My life was no longer mine. It belonged to Mr. Clark. I existed to serve him as was happening now. I was running though and it did not matter.

I ran for about twenty minutes following the curve of the road according to the twitches of the bit in my mouth and maintaining my speed when I saw a hill ahead. It was a sharp climb to start with and then less so after approximately a thousand feet. I did not know if I could make it. Mr. Clark knew I could make it and then I knew it also.

The whip landed in the small of my back as I started up the incline. I jumped as the lash landed and there was another lash. As I cried at it, immediately there was a third lash and I ran as fast as possible to avoid more. When I reached the end of the first incline I was breathing heavy, udders rising and falling, my breath coming through my mouth and nose, deep lung fills of air. The whip had cracked twice more during the rise informing me to keep up my speed.

At the end of the first rise it leveled off for one hundred feet before starting the shallower but longer second incline. I dreaded it but the whip struck my back time and time again during the second incline. I'll admit I would not have made it without the whip lashing my back and being so well trained was I that I could only think of obeying it, to keep on running though I felt as if I was going to drop.

My legs were high stepping and my hooves were landing hard upon the ground. The straps attached near my forearms were taut. My body felt the weight of the buggy through them and the rails attached at my wrists. I was crying out with each lash, foaming at the mouth so hard was I breathing. There was no thought of stopping on my part, as I knew Mr. Clark wanted to put his ponygirl through her paces. With half the second hill behind me I felt myself giving out and slowing but the whip landed harder and somehow I kept going, no longer crying, spittle coming out of my mouth, thinking only of putting one hoof in front of the other.

I passed the top of the rise feeling like I was pulling a ton behind me. I slowed, and feeling no lash, slowed more and then more still. I felt the lash then, and groaned. I could not run anymore but Mr. Clark was determined that I would.

After a few minutes there was a tug on the reins and I slowed. As the tug kept pulling my head back I slowed until I stopped. I was grateful, but adrenaline was still pumping throughout me and I could not keep still. I danced back and forth on my hooves with my upper body moving around in small circles. Spittle dripped all down the front of my mouth onto my udders, so deeply was I breathing. That was why I was not allowed to stop when I reached the top of the hill. I had to be brought down slowly because of the way my body was behaving. Mr. Clark knew how to treat his ponygirl. I was grateful and whinnied my appreciation.

Mr. Clark left the carriage, came to my side, and stroked my body to calm me down further. It worked and in a few moments I was almost back to normal.

"That was a very refreshing ride, Peppergirl. It's relaxed me to get away from it all. But it has also made me thirsty, and seeing how Sarah left you heavy with milk this morning, I think a taste is in order."

With that he lowered his mouth to my right udder and started sucking. I felt the milk flow through the teat into his mouth.

The nerve of him! I did all the work and was in pain and needed refreshment and he was sucking at my udders because he was thirsty sitting in the carriage whipping me.

I shook my udder free of his mouth. He looked at me and smiled.

"Well, well, well, a little rebellion, Peppergirl? I thought you knew better. After that good ride you gave and after I calmed you and stroked you, you think you deserve more and that you know better than me. Well, we will see."

He grabbed the reins, pulled back until I could not back up anymore, and raised my head skyward. I was helpless, immobile.

"I'll have to speak with Sarah when I get back about your behavior but first I will have that drink."

He sucked both udders until satisfied, with me helpless to do anything but acquiesce. Now I was scared. Since I had been disobedient, I would be punished.

He released me, climbed into the carriage, and pulled tight on the reins. I arched myself for presentation. The whip landed and I was off again, high stepping. Mr. Clark directed me along the main road for ten minutes when I saw a speck of dust ahead. Mr. Clark stopped me and waited.

It was another buggy being pulled by another ponygirl. They stopped in front of us. The other ponygirl was only two feet from me. She was immaculate while I had spittle and dust all over my body. We looked at each other while the two men greeted each other like old friends. They walked away leaving us harnessed to the carriages.

We stood in the sun for an hour. I tried to be patient but could not and neither could the other ponygirl. Finally the men came back. They fed us sugar and spoke soothing words to us just as if we were real ponies. For them we were no more than ponies. They each helped themselves to a drink from my udders and then the other man felt between my legs, playing with me there.

I became wet and when he removed his hand he brought it to my mouth. I sucked his fingers through the bit as best as possible. Again and again this was done. My mouth was again moist. With his help I had watered myself from my own body and the desires that were aroused.

His name was Mr. Stevens and his ponygirl was named Anabelle, Mr. Clark informed me. I heard Mr. Stevens mention to Mr. Clark that Anabelle was also recently acquired. She has only been on the island for six months and only out for a run four times before today.

Anabelle was a lovely mare with chestnut hair and long legs. The hair between her legs was trimmed beautifully and not shaved like mine. Her stomach was sucked in as mine and her upper body was just as tightly bound.

Mr. Clark examined Anabelle, probing between her legs, mouth, and backside causing her to jump. He lingered over her udders and flanks. This examination caused Anabelle embarrassment. She whinnied her disapproval but Mr. Clark did not stop. He was quite professional and detached about it, and this made it worse for Anabelle. She knew she was only property and anything that was desired could be done to her.

Mr. Stevens then examined me in the same detached way. I had been examined in this way before, but I knew I would never become used to it. There was not a crevice on my body that was not probed. My private parts were not private to Mr. Stevens. My mouth, teeth, ears, even my eyes were inspected. Then he stood behind me, and one at a time lifted and inspected each hoof. He complimented Mr. Clark on my finer points and then asked about breeding me.

"I have a fine stallion I keep for breeding. We could mate Peppergirl twice and each could keep a foal. I think both would be very strong and we can make sure each is female."

"I think that is a marvelous idea my dear friend, but it is a little to soon for breeding Peppergirl. I have just started riding her and would like to enjoy her some first. She is still young and maybe in two or three years I will breed her. That will still leave at least five good years left in her for my enjoyment. As you can most surely see she is perfectly fit for this type of work. You noticed the lines of her body, the size and strength of the legs, and the size of the lungs. Thank you but I think I will wait awhile. But tell me, what about Anabelle."

"I will be breeding her in about two months."

With this Anabelle started. She clearly did not like the idea.

"She is too high strung right now to be of much use to me. She needs to be tamed some more and I think breeding will work fine. It will show her once and for all that she is only property and will do as told. She is much too good looking to be turned into a draft pony though my patience is running out. If breeding does not work then she will become a draft pony."

I did not want to be sent to the fields to spend my life as a draft pony and I did not think Anabelle did either. While our lives were hard they were pampered. We were taken care of and given attention. We were not harnessed to plows chained together all our lives, made sport with, and generally worked dawn to dusk. Also, once being a ponygirl she would not be accepted by the draftgirls. I figured Anabelle's attitude would change. She may even get a sample of life as a draft pony to ensure her change. She was much too lovely not to be a ponygirl.

Mr. Clark and Mr. Stevens talked some more about our possibilities and then prepared to leave.

Mr. Clark pulled back on the reins and I arched my body in presentation for the whip, felt the lash on my back, and was off.

After another ten minutes I was stopped in a small clearing and Mr. Clark dismounted. He came around to my front and helped himself to a long drink from my udders. I did not object this time. When finished he looked down at my face and said, "Well I see you have learned not to object. That is good. I will speak to Sarah about going lightly on your punishment if you continue to behave."

I was fast learning who was in control and it was not me. I did not like to be punished and knew the only way not to was to please Mr. Clark. After all I belonged to him and he would do with me as he pleased. I was realizing what it meant to be property.

We stayed in the clearing for a little while, with Mr. Clark sitting in the shade of a tree and me standing nearby harnessed to the carriage. After a few minutes I saw three young girls, naked, about 19 or 20, come running through the clearing. They were bound in belly harnesses similar to mine and they were chained together with only a few feet separating them.

They were running and giggling. They stopped when they saw me and started to come over. It was then that I heard the crack of the whip. They looked frightened and continued on in the direction they were running when they first saw me. Then a rider came into view on a big black ponygirl.

She was a foot taller than I, with her hair shaved close to her scalp in an Afro style. Her feet were encased in hooves to help in the off-the-road running she was doing. She was even more tightly bound than I was. There was blood coming from her mouth where the bit was. She was ridden hard and I could see that the bit was not a soft one like mine. She also had blinders on so she could only look ahead. A saddle was attached to her back that held the young rider. He had a riding crop in his hands and I saw the marks on her flanks where he had whipped her. She was breathing hard, her udders rising and falling, inhaling great lungfuls of air.

The rider looked at Mr. Clark and he pointed in the direction the young girls ran off. The rider nodded his thanks, and yanked back on the bit, causing the mare to whimper and turn. Then he hit her repeatedly with the crop to start her after the young fillies.

Mr. Clark stood, came over to me, petted me on my breasts, and told me about what I had seen.

"Those are three of my young fillies Peppergirl. I have them out for exercise every day and keep them harnessed together for ease of handling. Shortly they will start their training to become full fledged ponygirls and in about two years they will be perfect. I always bring my stock along more slowly than I do someone from the outside like yourself. They will be absolutely perfect when trained, just like Longhair and Browneyes. They have been treated like this since they were born. Now they have some freedom but they know shortly they will end up in harness pulling my carriage"

I did not think anyone would be looking forward to being in my predicament. But then I realized they were raised from birth to see their lives no other way.

"The black ponygirl is the pride of my stock. I found her five years ago when she was nineteen and brought her here. It took me a year to subdue her and break her to the harness. You would be suprised at the attitude she had about being treated by me as my property. The whip was very handy. She still has a rage within her about how she is used and thought of it, but I have turned it to my advantage. It gives her strength and I control it well. She is very strong and can even carry me in her harness. She must be harnessed all the time and you need a rough hand with her when she is ridden. She is a marvelous animal."

I could sympathize with her and only be glad that I was not built as she was. I remembered the way the rider jerked her bit and handled her. It was very rough. The black ponygirl may not have liked it and may have wanted to rebel, but there could be no doubt in her mind as to who was boss - her rider.

"We'll go a little further, Peppergirl, before we turn back."

Not again, I thought. I was tired, did not feel as if I could go on, and still I had to pull the carriage all the way back. Mr. Clark would see to that.

He signaled and I presented myself. I felt the lash strike, and I was off.