“Good morning Titan.” Jacob shook his head. It was Michelle.

“Daddy says I can ride you to school this year. But that means that I have to be your groom.” She was standing next to him stroking his shoulders with her fingers. Jacob was now awake and had taken his weight back to his legs and off the shoulder straps. She was so happy and cheery. But Jacob’s mouth hurt from the stupid device stuck there. His neck was stiff and ached terribly. The muscles of his legs were sore. He could feel the pressure building on his anal plug and he knew that if it was not opened soon it would pop open on its own. He really hated it when that happened in his stall, but it was completely beyond his ability to control in any way.

“I am so lucky to have a pony my last year in High School. Marlene is going to be so jealous her eyes are going to turn green.” Michelle was laughing. This was not a dialogue. As Jacob would learn Michelle loved to talk. She loved it best when she could talk to something that could not talk back. With a simple wrist turn to the side, and almost no effort, Michelle released and withdrew the feeding device from Jacob’s mouth. He was so happy to have it gone, but the ease with which she could remove it after it resisted every attempt he had made, including twisting and shaking his head, and pushing with his tongue, underscored just how helpless he really was and how easy he was to control.

As Jacob’s bit turned flat to allow him to close his mouth Michelle held a piece of apple up to his lips. He took it with his lips and moved it back to the side where he could worry it with his teeth against the bit. As it broke up the sweet taste exploded through Jacob’s mouth. He tilted his head so as not to lose any part of it and closed his eyes in enjoyment.

“I am even going to be able to take animal husbandry now. We get to play together in school.” Michelle carefully checked Jacob’s harness as she spoke. She looked at his skin around each strap to see if there was any sign of injury. She checked the tightness to make sure nothing was coming loose. This included testing for any slack in the lacing of his arm binder.

Jacob felt her tapping the back of his right leg and he knew to raise it so she could place his foot and leg into his hoof. In short order he was back in his hooves with his ankles cuffed and hobbled over the boot. With the addition of the hooves there was a great deal of slack in the shoulder straps. Michelle fastened a lead line to Jacob’s collar and signaled for him to follow. He did.

Jacob was happy when she led him outside and to an area, which from the smell, had clearly been used by ponies to relieve themselves. Michelle signaled for him to squat and then she released the pressure cap on the anal plug. It felt so strange to know his bowels were emptying even though he could feel only the metal plug with his sphincter. Still, he was happy to have the pressure removed from his bowel.

Michelle used a sponge to wash his face but otherwise did not wash him. He was still pretty clean from the washing he had received the night before. Michelle led him into a tack room, and after clipping his lead to a ring in the wall, pulled a saddle from a shelf nearby and began fastening it to Jacob’s back. As he felt the saddle pulled into place and the various straps tightened, Jacob began to feel very uneasy. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. He was feeling the fight or flight instinct beginning to broil up in him. He might have kicked if he were not hobbled.

“Shhh, easy boy.” Michelle was trying to calm him as she checked and tightened the straps to the saddle.

Jacob did not understand why he was reacting this way. He had been saddled many times before. He had come to love feeling Sally on his back. Even though he had resisted, he had finally given in to Anne yesterday, and they had had a good ride. But, this was not Sally and it was not even Anne. This was some high school girl barely 18 years old. Could anyone now expect to just climb on his back? He might not be able to keep good accomplished riders off his back, but he was a powerful creature, and he was not going to be disrespected.

Jacob stomped his hoof. He snorted and he shook his body, but it was far too late to dislodge the saddle. It was already in place and all Michelle needed to do was continue tightening the many straps. The stirrups flipped back and forth, but the saddle stayed firmly in place. Jacob’s eyes were looking around wildly. There was something about the feel of the saddle. Part of it was exciting. Some of his best moments as a pony happened under the saddle. But there was something in the saddle the spoke of the control a rider could exert over him. After she adjusted the saddle straps she clipped a short chain to the back of the ring around his balls. The other end of the chain was attached to a clip in the bottom of his saddle. It was not tight.

Jacob could not see Michelle. She had been working at his sides and behind him.

“It is not uncommon for them to become feisty with the feel of the saddle.” It was Anne’s voice. Jacob felt her hand on his flank. He could not see her, but he felt her reach around and snap a line onto the front of the ring that encircled his balls. He did not completely settle down, but she did now have his attention.

“You are going to take my sister for a ride.” She jerked the new line just enough to be painful. “Aren’t you?”

Jacob whinnied in response, still shaking his body and pawing with his hooves. They might win, but it was not going to be so easy.

“Present.” Anne commanded. Jacob did not even think about it. His feet moved apart to the extent of his hobble, his chin straightened up and he back went straight. All signs of movement disappeared.

“Damn.” He thought to himself. He had responded without even thinking about it. He considered breaking position but his body still hurt from Anne’s last training regime. He was very afraid of her. He had been breathing hard, but now he started to regulate his breathing. He picked a spot on the far wall of the barn and kept his eyes on it.

“There, I knew you were a good pony.” Her finger was flicking the ring in Jacob’s left nipple. This brought his full attention to that simple isolated part of his anatomy. But the feeling was not contained there. It radiated out, up his chest, and down into his stomach – and below. He felt excited, but humiliated as well. Jacob wondered if he would ever get used to being treated as an object. He wondered if he would ever be anything more than an object again.

It had been at least five minutes. “Rest.” It was Anne’s command, and Jacob’s body relaxed in place, once again without any thought. He could not see the sisters, but he sensed they were behind him. He could hear that there was some conversation, but he could not tell what they were saying.

“Present”. Jacob was confused. This was not Anne. It was Michelle. Jacob tried to turn to look at them. His right buttocks exploded in fire.

“Present.” It was Michelle again, but the point had been made. He was to obey – and he did. How unfair this was. He was being ordered about by an 18 year old brat. He should not have to obey her. He should not have to do what she commanded. But his arms were uselessly held behind his back. His feet were locked in pony hooves and chained in a hobble. He wore a thick collar that was connected to a chain in the middle of the room so he could not go anywhere, and his head was bridled with a bit in his mouth. What choice did he have? And, oh yeh, there was a leash line connected to his balls and the brat had a crop which she had just shown she was not reluctant to use. There were two choices, obey, or resist and be punished until he did obey. Better to obey first and avoid the unnecessary pain. He obeyed.

Anne unclipped the chain to his collar. Jacob did not flinch; he knew to hold his position.

“Kneel. Present.” Michelle ordered again. He was no longer chained from his collar, but Anne still held a line fastened to the ring above his balls. Once again he had no choice, so he obeyed.

“Good. It is important to make sure it knows who is in control.” It was Anne, and she was not talking to Jacob. He flushed at being talked about this way. But he did not break position. He did not want to be punished.

Anne was teaching her little sister how to control the pony. For the next hour Michelle would issue commands then walk around Jacob inspecting him. Anne would softly make corrections. “Don’t yell, keep your voice firm.” She would say. “Keep the pitch down. Don’t squeak.” Michelle would listen and correct her tone and the firmness of the commands.

Even though Jacob could hear the corrections being made, he could also feel the difference. He followed every command, but when Michelle’s voice occasionally squeaked he smiled – inside, of course, because he wore a bit. When it sounded like screaming he felt slightly superior. But when she got the tone and the volume correct, he felt a ripple of fear surge through his body and his response was almost automatic. She would let him rest for a minute or two, then command him to present either kneeling or standing. She tried to break up the pattern. He never knew how long he would be made to present. He did not know if she would let him rest or just move him to another position.

After a while she added the “mount” command. Jacob knew this command. It was like kneel except that only the right knee was on the ground. The left leg was forward and up with his thigh parallel to the ground and his hoof planted firmly in front. It was designed to provide easy access to the saddle. Anne had not used this; she had just swung into the saddle with Jacob standing in place. Sally had occasionally mounted from this position, but most often she had mounted him while he was standing. Jacob knew that Michelle would never be able to mount him while he was standing, she was too short. He was being prepared to be ridden.

Jacob tensed in anticipation, but it did not come. Instead he was ordered into a different position. What changed was that “mount” now became one of the positions he was maneuvered through. While the position was not as strict as a “present” Jacob was required to keep his head straight and his eyes to the front. The natural tendency was to look to the left, where a rider would mount, and he received several swats with the crop for doing so. He started to force himself to keep his focus forward. He still slipped a little, but by the end of the training, the position became more natural.

After about an hour he was brought to a standing position and then directed to “walk on”. This was accompanied by a slight tug on the leash line fastened to the ring at his balls. He walked. Anne was still holding the leash. She walked ahead leading Jacob. Michelle walked by his side. He could see that she carried a crop in her hand. He carefully raised each leg as he walked. He did not want to give her an excuse to hit him. He had been well trained. He did not need any training in dressage. He knew how to walk. He knew all his gaits. He didn’t need training.

Anne led him into a corral. When they were inside she closed and latched the gate. Only then did she remove his hobble.

“Mount”. It was Michelle, and she had gotten the tone and volume just right. He dropped to one knee. He kept his head still and his eyes focused forward. He considered himself to be a quick study.

There was weight in the right stirrup. She was mounting. Another advantage of the mount position is that the pony cannot turn away from the mounting rider as he can when he is on his feet.

“Up.” She commanded, but Jacob’s head also jerked backwards as she pulled on the reins. His body leaned back and he almost lost his balance.

“Easy on the reins.” Anne was watching. “Keep your weight forward.” Had this girl never ridden before? Jacob did not like that idea. He really did not want her on his back. He was not to be ridden by just anyone. But he had come to his feet. She weighed almost nothing, maybe 70 lbs. He had carried that weight in a rucksack before he had become a pony. Now, after many months of training, conditioning, and of course the hormones, it was as if she weighed nothing.

“Walk on”. She commanded and slapped the reins. Jacob stepped out and began to walk. Immediately he became aware of her presence. Not because of her weight, but because she was shifting around and moving on his back. Jacob suddenly appreciated Sally and Anne. Both of them had the ability to mold themselves to his back in a way that almost made them part of him. Even though this girl weighed much less than what they weighed, he felt her. When he stepped forward she shifted back, then she shifted forward. It seemed whatever motion he was making, she was moving against it. He did not like the feel of her. He did not like it at all.

Jacob started to think about how he could suddenly shift and throw her off, but as if Anne could read his intent there was a jerk at his balls. Jacob managed to get a look to the side. Anne was giving him a look that clearly communicated: “don’t do anything I will have to make you sorry for.” Jacob looked straight ahead and all thoughts of removing his rider vanished in an instant.

Michelle was using the reins, but for the most part Jacob was walking in a circle in the corral. The radius of the circle was defined by Anne holding the leash line that ran to his balls. As he walked Michelle seemed to get the feel of the movement. Suddenly, Jacob was glad that they were training. “If she is going to ride me to school, then she better learn how to do it, because this sucks.” He thought. Jacob knew it was not his choice whether he would be ridden. It was not his choice where he would be ridden. It was not his choice when he would be ridden, and certainly not by whom. He could only hope they would learn to do it right.

Anne kept them moving at a walk for about half an hour. “Weight forward, knees up, feet back”. The corrections came. Jacob enjoyed not being the one who was being corrected. Of course, Anne did not reinforce her corrections to her sister with the crop as she would with Jacob. It was another clear distinction of his status as an animal. Only when Anne seemed comfortable with Michelle’s composure in the saddle at the walk did she start adding in other commands. Stopping, moving to mount position, starting. Then she transferred the giving of those commands to Michelle. Her voice betrayed a slight quiver at first, but grew in confidence as they continued. Anne continued to hold the leash line which reached out to Jacob’s balls. There was never a moment that he was not aware of its presence.

Anne had Michelle practice dismounting and mounting as Jacob held the mount position. Even though her weight was of no consequence to him, the action of mounting and dismounting was somehow more humiliating that the act of being ridden. He knew that it made no sense, but he was very glad when this exercise stopped and he was commanded to stand and walk once more.

Michelle was getting better at keeping her weight forward. She was getting better at anticipating the movement of Jacob’s body and bringing herself into the movement. But they had only been moving at a very slow pace. Jacob could tell that her confidence had built when she commanded him: “Trot”, punctuated by flicks of the reins – all wrong Jacob thought. But he sprung forward moving to a proper trot.

While the hips of the pony stay fairly smooth in a walk the same cannot be said of a trot. To get the speed the legs are moving faster. The body of the pony is bouncing on the strides of the legs. To Michelle it felt like he was trying to buck her off – he wasn’t. “Weight forward.” Her sister said again. She must have been getting very tired of that. Jacob smiled to himself.

“Roll your body forward with the up step and back down with the down step.” Jacob could tell that Michelle was having a great deal of difficulty capturing the movement. He could feel her bouncing up and down in the saddle.

“Grip with your knees.” Michelle’s legs were not that long, so that instruction was very difficult for her to follow. Jacob felt a squeeze to his sides when the command was first given but it did not last long.

Michelle was flopping about like a sack of potatoes in the back of a pick-up truck on a rough road. Jacob started adding a little exaggeration to each step. All he had to do was lift his leg just a slight bit higher and delay the down step just a bit. He felt the reins go slack and realized that Michelle had grabbed his harness at the shoulders. “S-s-s-t-top”. It was not a commanding voice. He was not a command at all, it was a request. Jacob ignored it, and if anything, added a little bounce to his step.

Jacob’s body was jerked around toward the center of the circle. He almost doubled over with the sharp pain in his balls as the leash line was given a very hard jerk. “Halt.” This was a command. Jacob immediately complied. He stiffened and assumed a present position. He could not see her, but he heard and felt her move up toward him. Michelle was still in the saddle clinging to the harness.

There was a sharp pain in Jacob’s right flank. Anne was making her point. “That must certainly have been fun. But if you want any hide left on that ass we are going to stop fucking around and get some work done.” She had moved around to the side. Her face was close to his but he kept his stare straight ahead.

“Ok, back to work.” Anne’s voice changed as she returned her attention to her sister. “You are doing just fine. Use your knees to feel the movement. Don’t let go of the reins. If he throws you off he needs to know you will pull his head off with you.”

Michelle did not speak to her sister, but Jacob could feel a change in the way her body molded into his. “Walk on.” The tone and volume was meant to be obeyed. Her slap of the reins was better. He stepped out without even thinking about it. She walked him for a time, the movement was less jerky and Jacob felt better balanced.

When she signaled a change to the trot the transition felt smooth. She was still bouncing up and down a lot, but Jacob moderated his step to try to smooth out the cadence, and she was able to stay forward in the saddle. Jacob thought to himself that if they did this for very long she would be very sore. Jacob could trot almost all day without getting tired. For at least 45 minutes he trotted in the circle subscribed by the line still held by Anne. Jacob had thought they would move through various gaits, but they did not.

Finally, Michelle brought him through a walk to a halt, and had him move into a mount position. Jacob could tell that she was not experienced but she was improving. She dismounted. “Stand Titan.” He followed the command. He was led by his reins to the side of the corral. Michelle tied off the reins to a ring in a post. The ring was just below his eye level and she allowed only about 24” of rein to the simple knot. This meant that Jacob could not move from where he was. He could not sit or really do anything but stand and wait. The hobble between his ankles was clipped into place and then Anne attached a feeding bottle to a ring higher in the post and then fed the now too familiar feeding nipple into the ring of his bit where it locked into place with that awful click.

Michelle and Anne walked away smiling and talking. They did not look back at Jacob. It was lunch time. They would go to the house and sit at a table where they would be fed food that Jacob knew he would never experience again. Jacob did not think he could have missed the feed back at his old stable, but he did. He really hated this method of feeding. Not just because it was all liquid, even though the consistency was very thick, but also because of the humiliating way he had to lick and suck the nipple of the bottle to be fed. A further irritating aspect of this method of feeding is that even when Jacob had finished the contents of the bottle, there was nothing he could do to get the hated feeding nipple out of his mouth.

Jacob did not know how long he stood waiting for Anne and Michelle to return. He watched some activity in the corral nearby. It was the corral where he had watched a string of six ponies exercised on an earlier occasion. Today he saw that there were multiple strings of ponies, each six in number. A string would be brought into the corral and connected to the exerciser. After a period (Jacob didn’t know how long, but it was two hours) of walking they would be removed and replaced with another string of six. These ponies were all female and all had very large breasts. As Jacob stood at the pole sucking his meal from the bottle, he was close enough to the circling ponies in the other corral to see that they were all lactating.

As Jacob was eating, he watched one string removed from the exerciser and another brought out to take its place. Each string of six ponies was connected from their collars in a coffle. The connectors were never removed, with the line between each pony being just long enough to space to the next bar in the walker. Interestingly they did not wear pony boots, they were bare foot. Their ankles were cuffed and hobbled to about 18 inches. Each wore a large belt. From the front of the belt straps encircled the breasts with webbing at the bottom to provide some support for the very large mounds of flesh. Their hands were all held behind them in a reverse prayer. Not pulled so tight as to make their elbows join, but severe enough to remove any use of their hands or arms. To enhance the security straps above each elbow were fastened to the waist belt at either side of their backs. Not one of these animals showed any sign of resistance.

As each string finished its two hours of exercise they were unfastened from the walker and led back into the building. For what purpose Jacob did not know.

It did not take more than about 20 minutes to suck all the nutrients from the feeding bottle attached to Jacob’s bit. When he was done he would have liked to remove it from his mouth, but he was not able to do so. He knew it locked (and unlocked) with only a slight turn, but that was enough to defeat all his efforts to be free of it. He shook his head. He tried to twist his head back and forth to see if it would turn and pop out. He tried to shake his head up and down – one of the things he hated most was the way it held his head up – that did not work. He could bring his head down to just below level and then the tension from the feeder would pop his head back. He figured all he was going to do by keeping that up was give him a whiplash. He stopped and did what all good ponies do. He waited for his trainer to return.

The girls must have enjoyed a nice leisurely lunch. Jacob was sure they had been gone well over an hour. His mouth felt dry from his continual sucking on the nipple in his mouth. He tried to ignore it, but it was just so intrusive that he could not help sucking on the damn thing. There was nothing to be received or gained by him from this action, but when your mouth is filled with something like this it is just natural to suck on it.

When the bottle was removed from his bit, Jacob was so happy he was ready to let Michelle get on his back with no protest at all – he could tell himself that it was his choice to let her ride. Anne did not seem to trust Jacob alone at first and kept him on the lunge line while Michelle rode in the wide circle. Michelle still had a lot to learn, but she was beginning to sense his movement and match herself to it. Her use of the reins was also better and Jacob had to admit that her verbal commands instilled instant obedience even without the use of the crop that she carried and used to emphasis points. Fortunately for Jacob she was not very good with it, and it usually did not hurt much.

Only after several hours of walking, trotting and stopping, all in the circle of the corral did Anne remove the lunge line and let Michelle start to guide Titan about the corral. Jacob was happy when the line was removed. Not just because he was tired of Anne jerking at his balls, but because not hobbled or leashed he could actually move about in the large corral. In fact he was following the verbal signals and his reins. That had become instinctive now and he felt free.

While they had been riding about the corral Anne had gone to the stable. She now returned leading another male pony by the reins. He was large, he looked taller than Jacob, and he was well muscled, his thighs were large and well defined; his chest was so broad it almost obscured the saddle on his back. His mane was black, cut in a Mohawk but long enough to actually flow down his back. His skin was a golden brown evidencing many hours in the sun. A large bronze colored penis extended from his groin, but Jacob could see that although it might pass initial inspection it was not real, but was the same type of device that Jacob wore. The pony held his head high, snorted and shook his head back and forth. Anne patted the side of his head and he ducked his head down into her hand. She reached into her pocket and then slipped something into his mouth.

This must be Thunder Jacob thought. He had heard the other pony in the stall next to him, but he had not seen him until now. Anne opened the gate to the corral then turned and swung into Thunder’s saddle. As the gate opened Michelle kicked her heels into Jacob’s sides, flicked the reins and signaled for him to move out of the corral.

On the road she turned him to the right and brought him to a trot. It felt so very good to be out on open terrain again. Jacob kept his pace as Anne on Thunder moved up on the left. Jacob turned his head slightly to the left and involuntarily snorted. He felt himself starting to pick up his gait, just a little, trying to draw ahead. “Make him hold the gait.” Anne said and Jacob felt pressure back on this reins. Not enough to signal a stop or even a change in gait, but enough to bring him back to the speed. Michelle was learning.

It felt so good to be in the open fields clear of the buildings of the farm. Jacob and Thunder held the pace set by their riders for the next five miles. Jacob knew that he could trot all day, but this was also the point that he usually had to overcome a slight drag on his lungs and body. He glanced to his left and saw Thunder with his head held high his breathing regular and unlabored. Jacob straightened his back and worked to control his breathing. He was not going to let Thunder see him labor at something as easy as a trot.

Michelle pulled on the reins and brought Jacob to a halt. Anne had stopped her mount only a few yards away. Michelle slid from his back. Jacob felt pressure on his balls and he realized that she had grabbed onto the chain from his balls to the bottom of the saddle. He realized that it was meant to discourage his running off when she dismounted. He figured he could probably take the pressure from Michelle pulling on the line long enough to make her let it go, but he saw the coiled lasso around the pummel of Thunder’s saddle. He could attempt to run, but it would not end well. Jacob thought of his sore feet. He did not want that again. He was not going to make another escape attempt unless he could be 100% sure that he could make it work. His odds right now were very very bad.

Michelle snapped on his hobble. Temptation was gone. Anne had dismounted and hobbled her pony as well. Even a well trusted pony was hobbled. It was not so much a matter of trust as keeping proper discipline. A pony made to stand unhobbled could get very nervous. Anne had made sure that Jacob had been hobbled before she hobbled Thunder. Clearly he was there to insure Jacob did not do something stupid. Both ponies were then led over to a nearby fence and their reins tied to the top rail. Jacob could not get his head around the vision of the reins looped twice around the pole then pulled back through the line with a simple bow. It was not even a real knot. He was sure it was done on purpose to let the pony know he had no control.

Anne and Michelle each produced squeeze bottles and watered their ponies. The water tasted sweet and cool. Jacob was very happy to receive water not from the hated device that had to be plugged into his mouth. This was the same way Sally had watered him and he began to feel like Sally’s old pony. He hung his head. He missed her. He missed the feel of her on his back. He did not want to be this teenager’s pony. He wanted his Sally back. He lifted his head and looked around. Where was her ranch? He did not see anything that looked familiar. He wondered where she was. He wondered if she had looked for him. He wondered if she wanted him back. He had been so stupid.

Anne and Michelle had gone into a field and were by some bushes near what looked like a small stream just 15 feet away. Jacob could not at first tell what they were doing, until he made out that each was holding a bag and were picking berries from the bushes. After a time the action of the two girls pulling berries from the bushes released the aroma of the fresh berries into the air. Jacob’s mouth was watering. He took a hobbled step in the direction of the bushes but his head was jerked back around by the reins tied to the fence. He watched as the girls delicate fingers plucked one and then another plumb ripe berry from the bush and drop the berry into the bag. Jacob did not know what kind of berry these were but they were the size of the end of the girl’s thumbs and were dark purple in color. The fingers of the girls were both stained purple from the ripe berries.

Jacob wanted some berries. He jerked at his reins. He pawed at the ground with his right hoof. Both girls heard and saw him. They looked up from what they were doing and laughed. “Hold on boy. Be good and I will give you a berry.”

“A berry” thought Jacob. They had two bags filled with berries. The bushes were still heavy with berries. All they had to do was let the ponies at the bushes. He was perfectly happy to pull berries off with his mouth. But to do that he had to reach the berries and tied to the rail there was no way to do that. He looked again at the simple knot in the reins tied at the top of the rail. He jerked his head back and pulled at it. He watched it actually tighten down on itself. It was a simple knot, but it was a knot that required hands to remove. A pony could not do anything but wait the pleasure of his owner. Jacob did the only thing he could do, he settled down and waited. The bit in his mouth usually made his mouth water, but now it was much worse than normal.

The berry picking went on for about 45 minutes. Finally the two girls returned with their now plump bags of fresh berries. As promised each girl stroked the side of her pony’s head and slipped a single plump juicy berry into its mouth. The berry was rich and exploded with sweet syrupy liquid. Jacob did his best to let it hold in his mouth as long as possible. Then he worked his tongue on the pulp that remained from the berry. With the juice now gone, there was a slight tang to the pulp, but this taste was welcome, and Jacob took as long as he could worrying it with his tongue as little piece by little piece disappeared down his throat.

By the time Jacob had finished his berry the girls had released the hobble on each pony and mounted. Jacob was not even sure how Michelle had gotten back in the saddle because he had not been commanded to the mount position, but she was there with the reins in her hands.

The ponies were turned back toward the farm. The sun was getting low in the sky again and Jacob knew this was going to be run. They trotted for about a mile, then with a look between the two girls, and a shake of their heads, the ponies were spurred (actually heels without real spurs on them for now) to gallop.

Thunder broke first. Jacob had decided he would not oblige. He was unhappy about only receiving a single berry when Michelle had a whole bag full, but he did not like looking at the butt of another pony pulling away. It was not in his nature to let this house pony beat him. He jumped forward. Thunder was at least five paces ahead of him. Thunder had the heavier load with Anne, but she was an experienced rider and knew how to make her weight all but disappear. Michelle, on the other hand, still bounced and flopped around. This was distracting and tended to interfere with Jacob’s rhythm. He knew she would get better, but for right now he had to deal with the shifting and bobbing. If she weighed more he would have had an insurmountable task.

Thunder was trying to pick up the pace. Anne had looked back and watched as Titan was closing. She had kicked her heels and tapped with her crop. Anne was working to get every ounce of speed she could squeeze out of Thunder. Michelle for her part was just hanging on for dear life. She had completely given her Titan his head, and she knew he was determined not to be beaten in this race. Even though the speed at which they were moving had a terrifying quality to it she was exhilarated and thrilled with her pony. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and hug him to death. Instead she leaned as far forward as she could with one hand clutching the pommel of the saddle and the other holding the reins against Titan’s back, because her hand was grasping his harness. Her chin was on his shoulder. She heard the huge intake and exhale of his breath. It sounded like the bellows at the blacksmith. His lung capacity must be four times hers she thought.

Anne was now thrilled with the speed of the run. She could see Thunder’s eyes turning in the sockets. She could hear his labored breathing. She had never run him so hard before. Thunder did not seem to mind being pushed at this speed.

He could hear the clopping of Titan’s hooves close behind him, this upstart who had come onto his domain. Thunder had been the only male pony on this farm. He did not need some newcomer coming into his terrain. Even though people did not share thoughts with ponies Thunder had known why he was along today. When the lasso was put on the pummel of the saddle he knew that Anne expected this new pony to try something. Thunder was looking forward to running him down and watching Anne as she lassoed and dropped him in his tracks. Maybe then they would sell him, or at least keep him locked in his stall. But that had not happened, and now this newcomer was challenging him in the run. It was just not going to happen.

Titan was not looking at where the road was going. He was not looking at how close or far from the farm they were. All he saw was the back and side of Thunder now only a pace in front of him. He could hear his heart beating. He thought it must be visible by just looking at his chest. But that wasn’t important. He was catching up. He was almost there.

With the blinkers Thunder could not see Titan to his side. But he could hear the breathing and the hooves. He knew it was close now. The farm was just up ahead. He had used everything he had, but Anne was now caught up in the race, and she wanted more. Thunder felt the slap of her crop on this flank and butt. It didn’t hurt. If felt like it was being slapped through a thick blanket. They were almost there. She expected him to win. He needed to win. He found more. He was head pony on this farm and he needed to show that. He was not ready to give in. He actually increased the pace.

Titan had everything he had invested in the run. Now he too saw the farm closing at 200 meters ahead. But Thunder was starting to pull ahead. How had that happened? Where had he found the extra strength for that? Titan tried to put more speed into his run. He tried to will his legs to go faster. He could hear Michelle yelling in his ear. “Faster . . . Faster, he is pulling away, catch him.”

Thunder was pulled to a stop next to the stable. Titan pulled up four steps later.

Jacob thought his chest was going to explode. He dropped to his knees. He had not been directed to do so, but he could not help it. Michelle leapt from the saddle. She seemed too delighted with the race they had just run to be upset with Jacob having taken a position without command. And his position was far from correct, as his chest heaved trying to catch air his head swung from side to side and back and forth.

Michelle ran to Anne and gave her a hug. Anne had dismounted, but she still held the reins in her hand as she quickly hobbled her mount. “Security first.” Anne pointed to Michelle’s pony. The tone was sharp and Michelle realized the error she had made. She quickly moved behind the exhausted pony and fastened his hobble in place. “Never assume that they will not run. Always assume flight.” Michelle knew better.

Both ponies were allowed to stand – or kneel – where they were for about 10 minutes to get their breath. That allowed the girls an opportunity to put the bags with the berries away. The ponies would not get another. Thunder was glaring at Titan, puffing his chest and snorting. Jacob jumped to his feet. He almost tripped on his hobble. He returned the glare. It was clearly a challenge and he was ready. He moved forward toward Thunder thinking about how he might deliver a kick while held in tight hobble.

But before Titan reached Thunder the girls returned and led both ponies into the stable where they were washed, oiled, and finally secured in their stalls where they could eat and sleep. Titan could hear Thunder on the other side of the wall. He twisted and pulled at his restraints but, as usual, they held him tightly. He could hear the creaking of leather and an occasional snort coming from the other side of the wall between the stalls. There would be a showdown at some point, but not now. For now both ponies were held securely in their stalls.

Michelle came for Titan early the next morning. Jacob’s muscles were sore from the exercise of the day before, but he knew that would be no excuse. He could see Anne standing to the side as Michelle washed, mucked, tacked and saddled him. Only when she had completed her work did Anne step forward and check all the straps and buckles. She made only a couple of minor corrections explaining each to her sister.

Michelle then led him into the corral, closed the gate, removed his hobble and mounted the saddle. For about half an hour they rode around the inside of the corral. Anne walked up leading Thunder and opened the corral gate. Michelle guided Jacob toward the entrance.

Thunder stood outside the corral behind Anne looking fierce and defiant. Titan wanted a confrontation, but his reins were jerked to the left away from Thunder and he knew to follow. He was brought to a trot, heading up the rode in the opposite direction from that they had been taken the day before. Hoof beats disclosed that Anne and Thunder where following behind.

Jacob could not see Thunder behind him. He could hear him and that made him a little nervous. He knew if Thunder got a chance he would try to hurt him if for no other reason than to establish his dominance as the Alpha male in the herd. Mostly Jacob didn’t think he cared about that, but there was a part of him that was not going to give in. Titan knew that he was younger but stronger than Thunder and that he should be the Alpha male. There would be a showdown and he would be ready.

Jacob did not pay attention to where they were going. He had learned that it was not the pony’s job to think about where they were going or where they had been. The pony should be in the moment and follow the directions of the rider. It did not matter that his rider was your and inexperienced. It did not matter that she was less than half his size and weight, he was to follow her directions. Had he really been broken to her so quickly and easily? Well, it really wasn’t like that was it? She had a crop in her hand, and even as small as she was she could hit him hard enough to hurt. He was always restrained so there really wasn’t anything he could do about it. His only real choice was to obey.

Jacob saw a large building ahead. It was two stories made of red brick with evenly spaced windows on both levels. There was a large lawn on one side next to the road. It was a school. Judging by the people walking about it was a high school. It reminded Jacob of his high school. He had been ridden to school.

On the far end of the building there was a large corral. Well, that was different from his high school. In the corral there were a lot of ponies. A guard stood by the corral gate. As Michelle stopped Jacob the guard stepped forward and took Jacob’s reins. Michelle slipped to the ground. She had Jacob assume the mount position to get on, but almost never did so for a dismount now. Jacob felt the hobble snap into place between his hooves.

The guard handed the reins back to Michelle and she led Jacob into the corral. The corral was occupied by both male and female ponies. The only difference was that while the fillies were free to roam the interior of the corral the males were all tethered. Along the back and side of the corral there was a series of posts set in the ground. Each was about three feet in height and had a large ring in the top. There was a small length of chain hanging from the ring.

Michelle led Jacob forward to an empty pole and quickly snapped the end of the chain from the control ring at Jacob’s balls. He had about 18” of chain so he could move about the pole, but he could not wander, he could not even sit or lay down. He was forced to stand by the pole. There were at least 10 other male ponies clipped to poles. Many of them puffed, pawed and snorted. Some pulled from time to time at the chain. No male pony could reach another male pony.

The locals had learned that male ponies in the presence of fillies can become very territorial. Clashes could get nasty and nobody really wanted to wander into the middle of a melee with flashing hooves and teeth. It was a good way to get hurt. So, it was best to make sure that the stallions could not get to each other. This configuration allowed them to blow off some testosterone without being able to hurt one another. Even if there were only a single male he was normally kept tethered. The male ponies left to their own would try to chase down the fillies. Only when the filly demonstrated her subservience to the male would he stop. This could leave the ponies tired. A simple tether fixed that completely.

The fillies, on the other hand, tended to group together and nuzzle or just play. There was no need to keep them so tightly controlled. They were, of course, still hobbled, even fillies got stupid ideas from time to time, but there was no need to keep them tethered.

The fillies had learned another advantage to this arrangement. They had taken to tormenting the tethered stallions. A filly, sometimes two or three, would approach a stallion. They would come up to the point where their bodies almost touched. Out of reach, but of course with arms bound behind you everything is out of reach. They would wiggle their bodies. Extend their bottoms toward the stallion, sometimes even just grazing his body. If there were several of them they would move around him and take turns teasing.

Jacob had not seen this activity before. The ponies on Sally’s ranch and those at the racing grounds would have never engaged in such behavior. This was so far below them. And the punishment would have been unthinkable. Jacob remembered his punishment for just the slightest contact with midnight.

He watched in horror and fascination as three fillies teased and tormented a stallion on the next post. The stallion was not enjoying the game. His penis was trying to expand against the ring that held it turned back. Jacob knew from experience that that hurt. But there was something more. The taunting was not just sexual it was exploiting the inability of the stallion to establish his dominance.

Jacob did not know that this was a particularly aggressive and assertive male and that the fillies did not care for or respect him. He was not their idea of an Alpha male and they wanted to make sure he knew that. The combination of assault on his status and sexual taunting was more than the stallion could take. He twisted his arms, kicked against his hobble, and even lunged away from the pole. The later must have been very painful. The fillies were not worried. They had been ponies long enough to know that his harness and tether would hold and that he could do nothing but whinny and shake in frustration.

Jacob was not sure if he felt bad for the stallion or not. Then he saw two fillies slowly approaching him. They did not know him and they wanted to get a good look. He stood still and looked at them. One was a palomino. She was perhaps half a hand shorter than Jacob. She had full firm breasts – he of course noticed this right away. Even as a pony he was still a breast guy. His eyes trailed down to two golden bells one clipped in each nipple ring. She followed his eyes and then gave each breast a little bounce, ringing the bells. He thought she was smiling, although it was hard to either smile or tell a smile behind a bridle and bit.

The other pony was a chestnut. Her skin was a darker golden color. Her breasts were slightly smaller than the palomino, but they were firm, and also belled. Her legs were long and the muscles were well defined. Before becoming a pony he had not been overly impressed with well developed muscles in a female, but for some reason, he now found it terribly attractive.

Both faces, even though contorted by the pull of the bit and lacking any make-up would have been very attractive. Jacob slowly moved toward them. Here it comes, he thought. He could feel himself growing as blood gorged his penis. At least he was completely hidden inside the control device fastened to him. The fillies could not see his reaction – or so he thought. He did not realize that his nipples had hardened and his breath rate had increased.

The palomino moved right up to him. She was only an inch away. He was not at the end of his tether so he could have closed the small gap between them, but he did not. He held his position and moved his gaze to her eyes. She looked back into his eyes. He tried to smile. He had heard once that if the mouth smiles the eyes will convey it. He hoped so.

Neither of them moved. Then the palomino closed the gap and Jacob felt her breasts push against his chest. The metal of the bells felt slightly cold. She dipped her head and nuzzled. He used his head to meet the side of hers and to draw her into his neck. They held their position and enjoyed the touch of each other’s bodies. Her body was firm, but her skin was so soft Jacob did not want this moment to end.

Then he felt something pressing against the other side of his chest. Again it was very soft skin over firm lean muscles. It was the chestnut. Jacob wished he had his arms so he could reach around and hold these two creatures to him. If this was torment, he was all for it. The three of them stood together with only the motion created by their breathing moving their bodies for quite some time.

Jacob could hear loud snorting and huffing and even high pitched screaming sounds coming from nearby. He and his two fillies turned to look at the stallion on the next post, the one that had been tormented by the three fillies. They had now moved away leaving him alone. He was looking at Jacob and his two fillies with a glare in his eyes. He lunged forward toward Jacob and Jacob’s small herd but the short tether pulled tight and twisted him back around toward the pole. He groaned in frustration and humiliation.

Jacob shook his head and looked away from the miserable pony. The two fillies had broken physical contact with Jacob but now stood next to him also looking out into the corral. As Jacob looked around the corral, he saw small groups of fillies standing with some of the stallions. Most of the stallions did not have fillies standing with them, although there were several being teased by small groups of fillies. The teased ponies all looked miserable. The other males just looked around the corral with envy toward those who had been chosen by females.

It would not normally have been easy to stand all morning, but standing with two gorgeous fillies flanking him made it very easy. They did not talk. They could not talk. But they communicated in other ways. Every now and then one of the fillies would turn and run her head up Jacob’s chest. He would bend in and nuzzle with his head.

At one point the chestnut ran off across the corral to what looked like a series of feeding troughs. Jacob watched as her head dipped into the trough and then came up with something in her mouth. She quickly returned to him and held her mouth up to him. She held a piece of apple lightly in her lips. Jacob reached down and with his lips and accepted the offered fruit. Then he tipped his head back, worked it past his bit and chewed it. It was just a piece of fruit, but after being fed through a nipple locked into his mouth it was the most heavenly treat he could remember.

Titan stood proudly with his two fillies next to him, one on each side. After what must have been several hours, the watering trough was refreshed and a worker walked along the line of stallions squirting water into each mouth from a bottle. Jacob happily opened his mouth and received some water. The two fillies ran over to the trough and took turns with the other fillies getting a drink. Jacob felt a little abandoned when they did not immediately return to his side and instead pranced and played with some of the other fillies. Jacob quickly transferred his irritation to enjoying the show. What magnificent creatures these were. They all had been young human women at one time. They would now be in their late teens to mid twenties. They had all been deprived of their freedom and terribly punished to instill in them the need to obey. Not one of them was free to leave, or for that matter to make any choice on their own. But here they were cavorting about the corral rubbing their near naked bodies with one another as if they had no care in the world.

Eventually the fillies tired of their game and one by one left returning to stand by the stallion they had selected. Titan’s palomino and chestnut returned to him. That made his chest puff even further. He gave an imperious look at the stallions that had not been selected, paying close attention to the angry creature immediately to his right. Jacob knew his look was smug, but he intended it to be so. The angry stallion huffed and pawed at the ground as best his hobble would allow and continued to pull at his tether. He would feel the reward for his actions in his balls later. What pleased Jacob most was that the two fillies standing at his side paid no attention to this display. It was as if there was nothing there.

Shortly thereafter, many students started exiting the building. Many sat on the lawn and ate food from paper bags or tin lunch boxes. Quite a few first came to check on their ponies. With the fillies, they needed only to come to the rail of the corral and call for her. Every called filly immediately responded. They were then stroked and rewarded with a treat before the student left to enjoy their own lunch. For the stallions, the student would have to go to the stallion. When the owner of the stallion to Jacob’s right got to her pony, he looked alarmed. She could tell that his pony was in a very agitated state. She moved up next to him, grasped his bridle with one hand while she stroked with the other. She was softly speaking into his ear. Jacob could see the tension starting to slip from his body.

She examined the ring around his scrotum. It had been pulled down tight by his efforts and must have been very uncomfortable. Carefully she held his balls in her left hand while she adjusted the ring up with her right. The stallion moaned and sighed. As if knowing what had happened she looked around at the fillies. The few that were looking her way quickly turned away. They were all the perfect picture of innocence. Jacob laughed, mostly to himself, but a snort issued from his mouth. The stallion’s owner glared at him and he quickly turned away.

The girl left, but she returned with a bucket, a sponge and a towel. She cleaned down the sweat-streaked body of her stallion, crooning soft words to him the whole time. By the time she was done, he looked very relaxed. “Just relax, school will be out in a few hours and we will have a wonderful run.” She stroked his head and he moved toward her as best as he could.

“Let’s help you relax.” She said as she closed the blinkers at his head. He may be distracted by the noises, but he was not going to be distracted by anything he could see. Only then did the girl leave. It had taken a long time for her to care for her pony and as she walked back into the building, Jacob presumed that she had skipped her meal. Caring for her pony was more important than eating. Jacob felt a little guilty for whatever role he had had in the tormenting of this stallion earlier.

Jacob stood looking out into the corral. Tethered as he was there was really no choice but to stand where he was. He could not stop himself from looking down at the simple tether line that fastened his balls to the pole a few feet away. It was clipped into a ring in the pole with a simple snap link. It would take but seconds to remove the line. It only required the simple grasping of the link and depressing its spring-loaded gate with the thumb before unhooking it from the ring. At some point Michelle, a young high school girl, would come and release his tether. However, he, without hands, could not. He was held; he was completely under the control of his owners and handlers.

Jacob thought back over the events that had brought him to this situation. “Nobody would believe this story if I told it”, he thought. He realized that he was twisting his arms in the armbinder, and that he had moved out to the end of this tether and was jerking his body at it. He certainly knew by now that both were useless gestures but when he felt the frustration at his plight rise, there was little else he could do.

He should not be here right now. What else could he have done? If he had never left the bar with Sally, he would not be here right now. But, that is not fair, she was an attractive female and men and women left bars together all the time. Women usually needed to be more cautious about leaving with strangers, but he was a large strong man. If anything, Sally should have been afraid of him. That was it. He had no reason to be worried or suspicious. He was so much stronger than she was. Yet, she had used his vulnerability. She had used sex to get the advantage. As he jerked on his tether feeling the pressure on his balls, he remembered Sally first restraining his balls. He had felt a twinge of fear; no it was more surprise, for even then he did not feel threatened. That is when his alarm bells should have gone off. He still had full use of his hands. He could have figured out how to get the tether off. If he had done that then he would be free today. But if felt like a kinky game and he had gone along. She knew he would. Once she had his arms restrained he was done. She had him under control and he had been under control ever since that fateful moment.

There was, of course, his escape attempt. Even then, he was still helplessly bound in his tack, unable to remove any of it. It was inevitable that he would be captured again. As long as his arms were locked behind his back, escape was only a dream. And, from the moment of his initial capture there was not a single occasion when his arms were released that he was not completely strapped and held in such a way to render his arms completely useless.

He was not sure how long he had been held as a pony. He knew it had been months, most likely about six months. Ponies did not have calendars. They did not have clocks. Ponies did not get to make decisions about what to do, or where to be. They did what their handlers and owners directed them to do.

Jacob felt a soft hand stroke his shoulder. "Come on boy." Michelle had unfastened his tether and was gently tugging on it to direct Jacob away from the pole. He was still hobbled so he had to take short steps, but he followed along. He did not have to think about whether he would do it or not. He was completely conditioned to follow the lead whether it was attached to his collar, his balls, or the anchor point he hated the most, his nose ring.

He could see he was being led into a classroom type setting. It was an open structure with a peaked roof set on poles to cover an area about 20' by 40'. At one end was a platform. In front of the platform were four rows of desks each row containing four desks. There was a wide space between the desks and to the right of each desk was a three foot pole with a ring in the top. Several students were already at their desks. Kneeling to their right facing the rear of the classroom were ponies each tethered by the nose ring to the top of a pole. The pole was even with the student seat, so that each pony ended in a position next to the desk, facing the rear of the classroom, and easily accessible by the student.

Michelle led Jacob to the desk second from the right in the second row. She faced him toward the pole and the back of the room and commanded him to "kneel present". She was not Anne whose command to kneel always filed him with instant terror, but her voice was commanding enough that he instantly obeyed without even the consideration of doing anything else.

As soon as he had knelt, she connected a short line, which was hanging from the ring in the pole, to his nose ring. The leather of the line smelled old, and of the bodies of other creatures who had been held by it over a long period of time. Jacob stiffened his body and was careful to keep just a little slack in this line. You did not pull on a line attached to your nose. With the reinforcing grommets that had been used, the nose ring was firmly set, high in the nose cavity, piercing not only the flesh but the cartilage of its wearer and pulling on it just hurt too much. The reason he hated this ring so much was that, in addition to being so humiliating, it was so completely controlling.

Jacob kept his position as the classroom filled with students and their ponies. Jacob was looking straight at the back of the pony in the third row. She was a palomino mare with her arms pulled up behind her in a reverse prayer. Her blond hair was tied tight and high on her head in a ponytail. Her hide was smooth but well tanned from many hours in the sun. Her posture was erect and almost proud as she held her kneel present position. Jacob was impressed with how well trained she was. He would like to have her in his herd.

Jacob could tell there was another pony in front of the palomino, but his view was blocked. From his peripheral vision he could see the pony to the left and right of the pony on the back row. Both were stallions. Both had well developed musculature. Their arms were held in binders very similar to Jacob, and they both wore saddles. Any other detail escaped his view. Jacob did not dare to turn his head for a better look. He did not even dare to move his eyes. He kept them straight ahead. His position was to the side of the desk, but just in front of Michelle. She would certainly detect any movement in his eyes.

When the class was settled Jacob heard the teacher address the class. Jacob was curious, but with his back to the teacher and his focus held on the head of the pony directly in front of him, he found that the words from behind tended to lose their meaning. He knew the subject was pony training and obedience. He should be very interested in this, but still his mind was wandering. Why was it so hard to focus on what the teacher was saying?

Suddenly Michelle was talking: “Yes, Ms. Robins.” Michelle stood and unclipped the short leash from Jacob’s nose ring.

She replaced it with a longer leash and directed: “Up Titan.” She was now standing, but Jacob was still on his knees. He had not broken his position, at least not until her command. Jacob took a quick look to his right and left. All the other ponies were still in place. Jacob did not want to be the only pony standing. He did not want to be some exhibit for a class of teenagers.

“Up Titan.” Michelle repeated flicking the leash attached to Jacob’s nose ring. He looked at her and glared. Even with him kneeling and her standing he only had to look up slightly to look into her eyes.

He gave her his best “fuck you” look. He thought he saw her bottom lip puff out, just a little. She was being embarrassed in front of her class mates. “Too fucking bad.” He stayed in place looking as defiant as one can with their arms strapped tightly behind their back and their head harnessed and bitted.

There was a whooshing sound and a streak of fire erupted down Jacob’s flank. A hand reached forward and grabbed the leash only 12 inches from Jacob’s face. “Up.” The command came from behind him. Jacob thought his nose was being torn from his face. He would almost welcome that to get rid of the damn ring, but it did not tear loose. Instead the pain shot in every direction. He closed his eyes. It felt like hot needles had been stuck behind them, but he also moved. He moved as quickly as he could. He jumped to his feet following the tension on the leash and turning toward his abuser.

“The beast must know who is in control.” Jacob was looking into a face that belonged to a woman in her late 30’s or early 40’s. Her skin was smooth and her features almost delicate. Yet only inches from his face was a clenched fist holding the leash that had just inflicted so much pain and had the ability to do much more of the same.

The teacher was looking back and forth at the class as she spoke. She turned and walked to the front of the class. “Follow.” Her command was not necessary. He was going wherever the leash was going. She did not appear to be terribly strong, but she didn’t need to be. The entire front of his face still hurt terribly. He did not want a repeat of that. Because she was holding the leash so close to his nose, he kept his eyes focused only on her hand, and moved his head and body, as best he could, to follow any movement of her hand.

“The nose ring is a very effective means of control. A snap or jerk is a good attention getter. After that resistance is unlikely.” She walked back and forth in front of the class leading Jacob by his nose. She moved him from side to side. She faced him toward and away from the class. Jacob heard some snickering, but it stopped instantly when the teacher looked in that direction.

The teacher turned Jacob to face the class and commanded: “Kneel, present.” He did not even hesitate. He was instantly on his knees looking forward. His knees were spread and his boots were crossed at the ankles. The teacher walked behind him and clipped a single clip through the rings of his hobble closest to each ankle. This reduced his hobble to about an inch. There must have also been a ring in the floor, because he felt some tension and heard the hobble chain being fastened to the floor. Jacob was pretty sure he was not going to like whatever was coming next.

“Take out your number 3 quirk.” The teacher had something in her hand, but Jacob was holding his position forward, so he could not see what it was. But he watched, as the class members he could see, all retrieved a leather quirk of about two feet length from their backpacks. This quirk had a wide leather striker, about three inches long and an inch and a half wide.

“Proper use of the quirk is mostly in the wrist.” Jacob felt a slight tap of the quirk on his chest. “The striker portion must be flat to the surface, but the strike should begin at the base of the slapper, and then be pulled through the rest of the leather with the snap of the wrist.” Happily, she was moving the quirk only in slow motion, across the front of Jacob’s body. The students were using the quirk with their hand, even though they all had a pony close by.

Then there was a swish, and the quirk struck down across Jacob’s left breast, not quite hitting the nipple. It was a quick snap and then it was gone, but it felt like a hot iron had been laid against his skin. Jacob jumped and gasped. He twisted his upper body against the pain.

“Position pony.” The command was unforgiving and punctuated with a snap to the same breast just to the other side of the nipple. Jacob moaned and tried to turn his head to look into her eyes and beg her to stop this.

“A slow learner.” She looked at the class. “Hold position pony.”

“Shit.” He knew better, but it really hurt. Then the next one hit. It was the same breast, but this time the strike finished with the nipple. Jacob forced his body firm. A moan escaped from his throat, but his body did not move. He knew she would keep it up, causing more and more pain, until he finally held still. That one had really hurt. But he held his position. He only prayed that Michelle would not learn to hit like that. It was truly unbearable. But then she stopped.

Michelle had stayed back at her seat, but she must have been signaled forward because now she walked up next to Jacob. Jacob could see that all of the students now stood next to their ponies with the crop in their hands.

“The crop is not about punishment. It is to exert control and provide encouragement.” Some of the students were now swishing their crop. “The flank is a good place to encourage forward movement.” Jacob felt the teacher’s crop lightly touching his right flank. “The mark of the strike should be even.” There was a swish and a snap and fire exploded in the flesh of his right flank. If this was not her idea of punishment, Jacob only knew he did not want to find out what was. It continued to burn long after she had removed the crop.

“On the count of three: 1 – 2 – 3.” Jacob felt the impact on his flank near where the teacher had struck. It hurt, but nothing like her hit. He really hoped that Michelle was a very slow learner.

The teacher knelt and pointed to parts of the mark on Jacob’s thigh. He could not see because he kept his eyes forward. He could tell that the mark was heavier on one side than on the other and not even from front to back. But the teacher did not seem overly displeased with Michelle’s effort. She stood up. “Try it again.”

Jacob stiffened as he felt the crop strike once again to his flank. Again, it hurt, but not nearly, not even close, to the teacher’s hit. He really hoped there would not be further demonstration by her.

Jacob could hear the teacher talking about the swing and the wrist. It was clear she was working with Michelle’s wrist.

Then the teacher started to move around the room. She stopped and inspected the mark on the flank of each pony, then observed as the student took an additional strike. She gave instruction, pointing to places in the mark on the pony, and showing the proper arm and wrist movement. Jacob could hear Michelle working her crop, trying to get the right feel in her arm and wrist. He was thankful she was only slashing the air.

By the time the teacher had worked with each of the students it was time for the class to end. Home work would be five marks on the unmarked left flank. Each was to be marked with a number from 1 to 5 in the order delivered. The student was to select and circle their best hit. Jacob found this completely demeaning. But in the end, he knew he would be back at school with Michelle tomorrow, with five crop marks on his left flack each numbered and one circled.

And, in fact, he was. Michelle had practiced with the crop for a long time while Jacob had stood held by his reins and hobbled in the barn waiting for her to do her homework. Five strokes with the crop were not that terrible, but there was something in the entire structure of this that was disturbing to Jacob on a fundamental level.

Michelle carefully selected a spot on Jacob’s flank. Ran her fingers over the selected flesh, then stepped back and delivered the stroke of the crop. When she had finished she marked a number next to the mark with a felt tip pen. Before moving on to the next stroke she carefully inspected the last one making comments to herself. Jacob understood what she was doing, and found that he was doing his best to be as still as possible. He didn’t know if he wanted her to do a good job because she was his new Mistress or if he was afraid of what might happen if he were blamed for any failure in this endeavor.

Although it took a long time to complete the exercise was not particularly painful. Jacob was still happy when the last of the five strokes was delivered, inspected and marked.

After Michelle had finished her homework Jacob expected to be returned to his stall. He was surprised when Anne came and led him out of the stable and in the direction of the barn. He had never been inside of this barn. He knew that the strings of females were brought to the exercise yard, in and out of that barn, each day. They came in coffles of six always connected together. They were exercised for several hours (there were no time pieces available within sight of the ponies) then they were returned to the barn and another six were brought out. Jacob estimated that there were three tofive groups, so there were from 18 to 30 females were kept in that building.

Every time Jacob saw the females they were essentially naked. They had a thick collar around the neck, a belt harness around their waist, and straps that circled each breast and then connected in the back. It looked like the framework for a bra without anything to cover the breast. Jacob could also see that the straps could be adjusted on each side of the breast and it looked like the bra was designed to be connected to something else.

The arms were not held in an arm binder like Jacob wore, but instead, were twisted up behind the back with the wrists pulled up toward the collar in the back. Many of them had their forearms actually together down the middle of the back so that their elbows touched and were held together by a second set of cuffs on the arms. Those whose elbows did not touch had cuffs joined by what looked like a long bolt. Part of the bolt extended through nuts build into the cuffs. It appeared that as the bolt was turned it would tighten pulling the cuffs on the poor female’s arms closer and closer together. Jacob had shuddered at the thought of how painful that must be the first time he had seen it. The females were also hobbled, and their hobbles were not removed when they were exercised.

A more dispirited group Jacob could not imagine. They moved meekly in coffle from the door to the exercise area, eyes straight ahead, but shoulders slumped forward with heavy pendulant breasts swinging below their frame.

Jacob did not know what purpose these females served. He had never seen one with a saddle, and although they were exercised every day, they did not look strong enough to carry a rider. He had not seen one hitched to any wagon or anything else that they could pull. Again they did not look strong enough to be of much use pulling a wagon or cart. He had assumed they must be used to power whatever took place in the barn, but he had never been there before.

As Anne led Jacob through the barn door, he finally got a chance to see what went on within. His knees felt weak and the thought he was going to collapse. What he first saw was a row of six naked female buttocks. He looked left and right and saw that in fact there were four rows each with six occupants. A fifth and sixth row was unoccupied.

In each row the six occupants were bent forward over a padded bar pressed at their lower abdomen. There hobbled legs were pulled to the sides to the limit of the hobble and clips fastened to the outside of each cuff to keep their legs in place with little or no movement available.

In the bent over position their upper body pressed onto a small platform with openings for each breast. Fasteners at the edges of the openings clip to the strap surrounding the breast. This arrangement held each breast tightly in place. Jacob could hear a rhythmic sound like pumps sucking. He took a second look and saw milking cones attached to the nipple of each female breast in each of the rows. The sound he heard was the milking machines working on each large mammary as the milk was extracted.

As his eyes followed the body he saw that each dairy beast’s head rested in a padded notch where her collar was connected. They could not raise their head. They each wore the mouth bit with the ring that could be turned to accept an insert, and inserted in each mouth was a feeding piece. Jacob, while on this farm, was fed with this method and he did not like it one bit. The insert was large enough to extend well back into the mouth. It was soft, but its presence was always with you and it blocked any thought of speech. There were two modes for feeding. In the first you had to suck on the soft rubber within your mouth. Doing this you were rewarded with liquid that served as both food and hydration. In the second mode the liquid would be forced through the device into your mouth and you had no choice but to swallow it. Normally you were given the opportunity to suck in the nourishment, but if you failed to take what was required the balance would be pumped in whether you wanted it or not.

Jacob did not see any sign of other stalls. In a corner of the barn there was a single cot with a table next to it where an attendant could stay with the cattle. Jacob shivered, from the structure of this place it was clear that the only time the dairy beasts were removed from their milking racks was for their daily exercise. Jacob could see the light chain of the coffle joining the six beasts in each coffle even as they stood restrained in their milking frame. Even the coffle never broke or even changed.

A young woman dressed in khaki shorts and a shirt walked over and took Jacob’s leash from Anne. He had seen this woman exercising the dairy animals. Suddenly Jacob was very frightened. He did not want to be here. He was terrified that he was about to be bent into a milking frame. He had been feeling sorry for himself, but his life was a joy compared to these poor creatures. He was so happy he was male and did not produce milk. But how did these females produce enough milk for this to be a dairy operation? They must feed them hormones. Could they do that to him? Could they make him grow breasts? Could they make him produce milk? He quickly re-examined the buttocks he saw sticking back from the many milking frames looking for equipment that betrayed any gender other than female. He saw none. This made him feel somewhat better, but only a little. He still did not know what he was doing here.

As Jacob looked from milking row to milking row he saw Thunder. He was at the far end of the last row standing behind one of the animals. He was moving back and forth. Jacob suddenly realized that Thunder was ‘servicing’ one of the dairy animals, thrusting with long even strokes. Jacob could see the top of the back and buttocks of the animal being serviced, but her head was obscured by the milking row directly in front of her.

Thunder must have heard Jacob and the woman because he lifted his head and looked in Jacob’s direction. His face hardened and his expression could only be called a glare. This was Thunder’s domain and he clearly did not want Jacob invading it.

Was Jacob here to service the animals as well? That was not such a bad thing. He had been sexually deprived for so long, he had tried to keep his mind off of sex, but now he felt himself hardening in the case ensconced around his penis. He knew it could be removed with just a simple twist of a hand. Like so many other parts of his current life, an easy thing for a creature with hands, but, completely beyond his ability to effectuate.

Jacob looked around the barn as he was led down one of the milking rows past naked buttocks. Bent over as the animals were their sexual orifices were openly displayed. Held in place as they were they could do nothing to prevent being entered by any male standing behind.

The woman stopped at the animal second from the end. She turned Jacob to face the buttocks of the animal. The animal could tell that they were there behind her. She tried to turn her head and look back, but the combination of the neck brace and the feeding gag prevented her from seeing what was going on behind her.

Her buttocks quivered and shook. Jacob could not tell if she was trying to avoid his attention or responding in anxious anticipation. In any event it did not really matter. Neither the animal nor Jacob had any control over what was going to happen.

Jacob waited for the woman to remove the sheath on his penis. He was getting more excited as he stared down into the now moist opening perfectly placed to receive his now very anxious member. It had been so long, so very long, Jacob was becoming excited with anticipation.

To Jacob’s dismay, the woman did not remove the sheath. Instead she pulled Jacob forward toward the animal and guided the sheath into the sexual receptacle. With the sheath in place he was very large – not that he was not of sufficient length and girth without it – and the animal made gasping sounds as she was penetrated.

When Jacob’s sheath covered penis was fully engulfed, Jacob felt the woman reach in between him and the animal he was now to service. She pulled something toward Jacob and clipped it to the ring above his balls. Jacob was surprised and jerked back, but he was stopped after only a few inches. As long as he was connected he would be unable to fully withdraw. He could move back and forth. In fact the line had a stiff spring or elastic of some type. It allowed a certain amount of rear movement, but only with increasing pressure on his balls before he was pulled back into the now groaning animal.

Jacob knew what his duty was and he started to work in and out. He could feel the pressure in the sheath. He could feel movement. It was enough to get him excited, but the sensation was being dulled by the thick sheath.

Jacob looked at Thunder. He was moving with great energy. Jacob wondered if he was still sheathed or if he had been granted access to the sensation and potential for satisfaction. It was impossible to tell from where Jacob stood.

Jacob worked with enthusiasm trying to make the feeling work for him, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that he was to be denied. That angered him. The animal was now squirming and moaning loudly. Whether she had wanted this in the beginning, or not, it was pretty clear she was now enjoying it. She had not yet reached climax. Jacob did not think it would take much more to make her cum, but he was angry, angry that he would not be able to enjoy the act himself. Why should he do this if he was not going to get any pleasure? In fact it was the opposite; the motion inside the sheath was driving him to ever increasing levels of frustration.

If they wanted him to do this they better remove the sheath. He was not going to cooperate. Jacob stopped thrusting. The animal shrieked in response and did her best to pick up the motion. But she was so tightly restrained that she could create almost no movement that was helpful to her objective. Jacob could not withdraw. He was anchored to the sex of this lovely little creature. He felt a moment of guilt, but he was not going to play. He was tired of being taken advantage of.

Jacob was aware that the woman had moved up next to him. There was a whoosh and Jacob’s right nipple exploded in pain. Before he could even think of what to do the left nipple had received similar treatment. Jacob turned his head to look at her. As he did he felt a tap of the crop on his balls. She had tapped up from below. It had not been hard. Then there was another tap, more force, and actually a small amount of pain. Jacob did not want the third tap. He began to thrust.

“That’s a good boy.” She crooned as she stroked the side of his head and then flicked the ring in his right nipple a few times. The action increased his level of arousal, but still not enough to get him to where he needed to be. He knew he was going to be denied, but he also knew he was going to perform. He was here to service the dairy animals and that he would do. The alternative was unthinkable.

Over the next several hours Jacob was used to service a total of four animals. It appeared that Thunder did the same. At one point Jacob and Thunder were faced toward each other each servicing an animal on opposite dairy rows. Thunder’s eyes were blazing with hate. He thrust with energy and enthusiasm. It was clear that he intended to satisfy his animal before, and to a greater height, than Jacob. Jacob thought that Thunder must be the most competitive creature he had ever met.

Jacob was exhausted when he was returned to his stall. He was not sure how he felt about his nights work. He hated the fact that he had received no satisfaction. He could understand that they wanted him to service multiple animals and that they needed to keep him from satisfying too quickly, but it had not been a matter of that. He had been completely denied. He was so frustrated when they secured him in his stall that he could only think of how to reach climax. Tired as he was, he was a long time agonizing before he finally fell into a deep sleep.

Morning seemed upon him before he had even started to sleep. He still had mixed emotions about the night before, but he was actually relieved when he was saddled and ridden to school.

Once at school he, and all the other ponies from the class, was led before the teacher. It was time to grade Michelle’s homework. The teacher closely examined each mark of the crop, in order, from 1 to 5. She used a red marker to circle parts of the mark. When she was done she wrote a large capital B on Jacob’s flank just above Michelle’s work. Jacob was then led back to the corral at the school and tethered to a pole. The lab portion of the pony class (that conducted with the ponies) was only twice a week, but when there was homework on the ponies they would be inspected and graded the next day.

Jacob was very happy that he was not the only pony standing in the corral with graded homework marked on his body. This was the first, but not the only time Jacob was marked with Michelle’s work graded on his body. If she didn’t like the grade she would wash him down as soon as they got home and they would usually go straight home from school. When she got an A she washed around the marking trying to preserve it as long as possible.

Michelle rode Jacob to school every week day. Jacob had seen Anne mounted on Thunder following at a discrete distance during the first few weeks, but that seemed to have passed and now it was just Michelle and Titan. Michelle was learning to move her body in against his, to catch the feel of the movement, and to become one with him. It no longer felt like Jacob was carrying a sack of grain on his back. He was able to increase speed and make changes in direction without worrying about being pulled off balance.

Michelle had also learned how to use her crop. Jacob cursed the teacher for that. It stung when she used it, but thankfully although her technique had improved substantially she had also learned how to vary the strength of the hit. Rarely did he get the full force, but when he did, it really hurt.

After school the teenagers would often ride their ponies to ‘town’. It is not the town on the main highway that connected to the rest of the world. It is a commerce center in the flat center of the valley, at least 5 miles from the area outsiders were allowed and within walking distance of the hotel. It was only two blocks long. It had stores designed to meet the needs of the locals, including an ice cream and a soda shop for the young people. After school the hitching posts in front of the ice cream and soda shop quickly filed up with hobbled ponies their reins tied around the post.

Jacob found himself pulled in between two fillies. Michelle connected him with a close rein to the post, allowing only about 18 inches. His hobble chain was also connected from its middle to the ring at his balls. Thus, although he was hobbled at 12 inches, any step beyond about 6 inches pulled down on his balls. If he stepped too quickly he jerked them. It was most comfortable to slightly bend his knees. He didn’t like this restraint, and whinnied his disapproval at a retreating Michelle, heading for the ice cream shop with her friends. The fillies flanking him were hobbled, but not as tightly, their reins were tied to the post, but again they had more freedom of movement than Jacob. Fillies almost always received more freedom of movement than stallions. And, Michelle always seemed to make Jacob more secure when they were in the company of her peers.

Jacob felt a body rub against his right side. The filly there had moved up against him and turned her body a quarter turn so that her left side, from the edge of her left breast down to the edge of her crotch and the inside of her left leg rubbed up and down against him. Her movement felt good. Jacob tried to turn toward her, but his short reins made it very difficult. He managed a slight turn as she turned more into him. His penis, enclosed in its long thick rubber duplicate swung up against her right thigh. Jacob had hated that thing since it had been installed on him – not that anyone cared what he liked or hated – but right now he was not so sure. The filly certainly seemed interested in it.

She pushed her head into Jacob’s neck and nuzzled. She lifted her leg and attempted to get the large phallus down between her legs. She was tall and muscular, as were all Ponygirls that had been cleared for the saddle, but Jacob was still several inches taller than her, and even though she had very long legs the turgid instrument slapped at her belly above where she wanted it to be. It also resisted her efforts to make it point downward. It now, as always, stuck straight out and perhaps up a bit.

Jacob was enjoying the feel of her body against his. He had been deprived of sexual gratification for so long. But even though he was rubbing his encased penis against her he could feel nothing in his organ. It had been carefully encased so as to not transmit any vibration or other stimulation from the outside to the imprisoned flesh held within. In fact, as he became stimulated with the movement against her body he felt himself start to grow within the rubberized casing. He knew that there were rubber rings on the inside of the casing. He felt the head of his expanding dagger move through the first ring. That action was something he could actually feel and it felt good. He started to rub back.

Then he bent his knees to bring the shaft to the level the pony girl desired. He was having trouble turning his body sufficiently to fully accommodate her needs with his head held on such a short rein, but he was becoming very invested in the activity. He could feel his penis trying to expand further into the casing. There was pressure around the head and along the shaft. He could not feel any of her rubbing through the case, but he could feel the pressure on his penis from the container as he expanded. He was getting very excited. How long had it been since he had been sexually satisfied. He really needed this. Then the head of his penis popped forward through the last ring in the restricting case.

Jacob’s eyes expanded and he pulled away from the filly bumping forcefully into the filly now mostly behind him as he howled in pain. Movement of the penis through the last barrier had triggered an electronic shock that surged through his now tormented manhood. He twisted and pulled at his long useless arms trying to reach for his severely punished flesh. He of course could gain no use. The shock surged and pulsed through his penis. Jacob thought he was going to pass out. He did not know how to make it stop. The wide eyed filly who had initiated the affection now pulled away to the limit of her reins as Jacob hopped and howled and shook his body.

Only when the punishment caused his member to shrink sufficiently for the head to remove itself from the last ring in the case did the punishment stop. He was panting heavily. Jacob remembered Annie saying something about redirecting sexual energy when they had put this thing on him, but he had been too much in shock to pay much attention. Now that he knew what it did he wanted it off. He looked down at the rubber coated protrusion. He could see the substantial collar fastened tightly around the root of his penis. He could see where the penis covering device seemed to match perfectly into the edge of the ring. He could not see how it was attached, or more importantly, how it could be removed. He swung himself back and forth watching to see if there was any give. There was not. However it was sealed to the ring it was sealed tight. And the ring anchored between his body and his entire package, including his balls. There was no way to pull it off. Like everything else that was done to Jacob he had no control over it and would have to endure.

Jacob wondered why he had not been shocked when he had been used to service the dairy beasts. He had gotten pretty excited on those occasions. But on every such occasion a handler had maneuvered him into the animal to be serviced. They must have a way of shutting off the electrical torment when it served their needs.

He stopped swinging about and stood still his head downcast. After what had happened he did his best to keep from touching the fillies. And they seemed to know to leave him alone. This was so very unfair. He had been unable to stop them from making him a pony. The threat, and the actual application of punishment, had meant that he had no choice but to be trained as a pony. But in addition they controlled every aspect of his being – when he ate, when he relieved himself, and, apparently, his access to sexual release. He stomped a hoof in frustration. He could not even plead his case because he was not allowed to talk, and, he wore a bit in his mouth to remind him of that fact.

He glared at Michelle when she left the shop laughing with her friends. She looked over and gave him a puzzled look. Clearly she could tell something was wrong, but she had no idea what it was. Michelle released Jacob’s reins from the bar. He was still hobbled and she did not remove the hobble. She knew that an upset pony could be unpredictable and she should try to figure out what was wrong before the freed his legs. She led him away from the other ponies. As she did she tried to sooth him with gently talk and strokes to his head.

She wondered if he had been kicked or bitten by one of the other ponies. They were all pushed together pretty tightly. She checked his legs as she walked him to one side. He did not appear to be favoring one over the other. She could see no sign of injury on his legs. Sundown was still an hour away and she had good light. She checked his upper body, but there were no signs of injury there either. Michelle was stumped, but ponies were strange creatures and the good ones could be pretty high strung. (She had learned all that in class.)

There was a corral nearby. It was a part of the market area that was used on the weekends. Now, it was empty. She led Jacob into the corral and closed the gate. That created a safe environment for her to release the hobble. He might try to kick, but he could not bolt, at least not bolt and go anywhere. She continued to stroke his head and neck and to whisper quietly to him. She could feel the muscles in his shoulders starting to unknot just a little.

When the hobble was released she walked him around the corral at an easy pace holding his reins. She took him to the watering trough and stood watching him. He stood there for a time, then he lowered his head and drank.

Her voice was soft and soothing. Her hand stroked his head and shoulder. It was certainly demeaning, but it felt good and Jacob knew she cared for him a great deal. This young girl looked very concerned about his state. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to tell her to let him go. He thought she was a good person, but to her he was NOT a person. To her he was a pony, and he knew that there was zero chance of her treating him as anything but a pony. She had named him. She brushed him, she washed him, she exercised him, and she rode him. In school she had learned to use the crop and the switch on him. She obviously could tell that it hurt him. The marks were deep and dark. She knew that because she had to number them and write her comments on his skin next to the welts. She had even received good grades. A B+ for the crop and an A- for the switch. Jacob had been worried that the higher grade would make her prefer the switch over the crop (it hurt a great deal more), but Michelle turned out to be a good traditional girl and preferred the look of the crop. But she never shied from using it to encourage him. Jacob knew that any affection she had for him was as a pony, and if he broke that mold, he would be punished.

The walking and the stroking had worked. Michelle could tell that he was moving more correctly now. She could see him starting to lift his head. She commanded him to the mount position and climbed into the saddle. She worked him in the ring for about fifteen minutes before she dismounted, opened the gate to the corral and then remounted and directed him for home.

Jacob liked this part of their trips the best and he needed almost no encouragement to open to a full gallop. It felt good to stretch out his stride. It felt good to feel the air flowing over his body. It even felt good to feel the small rider on his back clenched in closely to his back and shoulder. It felt good to feel her breath on his neck in syncopation to his.

Michelle’s use of the crop on this ride was minimal with no part of it being correctional. It took them about 45 minutes to get home. Jacob had kept a very fast pace and somehow Michelle had seemed to sense that he needed to do that. She pretty much gave him his head on the run. When she reined him to a stop at the stable he was breathing heavily and his body was streaked with sweat in spite of the cool evening air.

Michelle took extra time washing and grooming him before returning him to his stable. Her soft encouraging vocalization continued and she took many opportunities to stroke him tenderly. It felt good and he found himself nuzzling her. It wasn’t a response that he thought about. It was just something he now did. She smiled and held a sugar cube in front of his face to get his attention and then slipped it into his mouth. Unlike most such occasions he was not sure what he was being rewarded for. It was more like a simple act of kindness and caring. Whatever it was it tasted wonderful and it meant a lot to him. He was so completely dependent upon her; he needed to know that she cared for him. He needed to know that his well being was important to her. And right now he knew that it was.

Jacob had expected a troubled long night, but he was asleep almost as soon as he was secured in his stall. He was pretty sure tomorrow was a school day and he knew that Michelle would have him up early. Having a pony to ride to school was not all fun and glory. Michelle’s morning started early with caring for her pony. He had to be mucked and cleaned. He had to be fed and watered. He had to be harnessed and saddled. All of this took about an hour. When she roused Jacob from his stall in the morning it was usually still dark outside.

Usually Michelle would muck, brush and clean him, then insure that his basic tack was also clean and properly adjusted. Then he would be left, tethered at the feeding trough, to eat, while she returned to the house bathed, dressed in her school cloths and had her breakfast. Jacob, enjoyed being able to eat from the trough instead of the damn feeding tube. He had always finished eating and stood impatiently waiting for Michelle to return. Only then did they start the ride to school. By this time the sun was just appearing over the mountains. The air would be cool and crisp, unless it was raining. Michelle was responsible and they always seemed to arrive at school on time. There were usually a few other ponies in the corral, but they were always in the early group. This made Jacob happy because that allowed Michelle to tether him to one of the better spots in the corral. He liked the spot under the oak tree the best. On a couple of mornings, when his favorite spot was available, but it looked like Michelle was taking him in a different direction, he had gently pulled in the desired direction and pawed the ground. He could have been punished for this behavior, but Michelle had smiled and changed direction taking him to the spot he desired. After she fastened him to the post he whinnied and nuzzled her before she left for class. She stroked his head and neck and gave him a pat on the thigh.

The oak tree was a great spot because it provided shade from the sun in the heat of the day. It also provided some protection from the rain. The weather did not stop them from going to school. The first time he had been run in a heavy rain he worried when his eyes started to blur from the accumulation of water. He, of course, had no hands that he could use to wipe the water away. He just had to shake his head and blink to try to clear his vision. Even with blurred vision and wet puddled ground, somehow, he managed to continue. He could feel the water splash up against his legs with each step. The wide surface of his hoofs, ringed by the solid shoe, provided good support on the non-paved surfaces and his speed was only slightly diminished in the inclement weather.

The rain and wind was cold and Jacob was essentially naked. In his prior life, he would have found shelter inside and bundled himself in clothing. He had no choice to do either now. This weather underscored the fact that he was now just an owned beast with no rights of self-determination. Unless there was a barn or stable he would be left outside, his reins tied to a post or rail and his ankles hobbled. He would stand in whatever weather fell and wait on the pleasure of his owner. It was not that he did not feel the cold. It just seemed like its impact on him was diminished. Instead, he found that he could hunch his body slightly and draw his arms in tight to his sides compressing himself. Somehow, this seemed to ward off the cold and preserve his body heat even without the aid of clothing. He wondered if the thick layers of solid muscle that were building on his body helped insolate him. Certainly, it was not fat, there was none.

Jacob remembered the first time he had been left tied to a rail in the rain. Sally had ridden him that day, and they had visited another nearby farm. Sally had left him tied to ring in the side of a post near the front gate. When she had left him and entered the house the weather had been cloudy, but there had been no rain.

It started as a drizzle. He did not like the feel of the drops starting to hit his body. He looked to the door of the house. It was closed. He looked at the windows in front to see if he could see Sally. He could not. He looked around for some place that would provide some cover from the rain. There was a large tree only 30 feet away. There was a barn, its door open and inviting, just 50 feet to the other side. There was the front porch of the house, although he knew, even then, that a pony would not be invited up there. It mattered not. He was tethered to the post with less than three feet of slack. He could not move from his spot without the help of his owner. He was, of course, hobbled, but that would not have prevented him from reaching cover, if it was not for the damn reins tied to the ring.

He pulled back at the reins to test the knot. That drove the bit deep into his mouth. There was no movement in the knot. The ring, to which the reins were tied, was just above the level of his head. It was just high enough to make it unreachable for a pony's mouth. It was in easy reach of someone with arms, but his arms and hands were not available, they were tightly restrained behind his back. This common design feature was meant to communicate to ponies that they were under complete control at all times.

As the rain fell faster and harder he expected that Sally would come and rescue him - move him to a dry location. This did not happen. He jerked and twisted at his reins. He tried to whinny loudly to get attention. Maybe she did not realize it was raining so hard. However, the rain was now a downpour with all of the sounds that occasioned such weather. She knew, she had to know how hard it was raining. He looked longingly at the open door to the barn. He stomped his hoof in frustration. Finally, he did the only thing he could do. He stood at the end of this reins waiting for his owner to return to him. He thought he had seen some movement at the window, but he could not be sure. In any event, no one came to rescue him and he was left to endure the weather. At first, he fumed over the ill treatment. Was he being punished for something? The realization of the reality was much more painful than being punished. He was not being punished. There was just no reason to be concerned about leaving him in the rain. He was just a pony, and getting wet would not harm him. It may be uncomfortable, but pony comfort was not a consideration. Humans would not be inconvenienced dealing with the comfort of ponies.

That had been his first day standing tethered in the rain, but not the last. Sometimes there were other ponies nearby. Their treatment was no different than Jacob's. Nobody seemed to worry about leaving a pony in the rain. He did see some owners put a protective cover over their saddle when the weather looked like rain. After all, water may do damage to a nice leather saddle. A pony would dry and be good as new. Jacob was sure that if the owner thought the weather conditions posed a threat to the well being of the pony they would take action. After all, he had a nice warm stall that protected him from the elements and allowed him to rest. He had always had his own stall ever since he had been made into a pony. Therefore, they must care for him.

Jacob wondered what had happened to Sally. He was surprised that in this small community she had not located him and recovered him. After all, he was her pony. She had taken him. He was still embarrassed when he thought of the ease with which he had been captured. She had trained him. He had trouble getting his mind around this, but it was true. She had forced him to become a pony. He did not want to do it, he had resisted the idea, but she had given him no choice in the matter. Again, he felt shame at the ease with which she had been able to control him. But, it wasn't his fault. Just like all the other ponies, it wasn't the pony's choice - there was no option but to obey and learn.

So why did he feel this pang of regret at losing Sally, or more properly not being her property anymore. Michelle was young, but she was nice to him, and she cared for him. Her sister Anne was a mean evil bitch and she scared the hell out of Jacob, but he didn't belong to Anne. He belonged to Michelle, and unlike most teenagers; Michelle was responsible and took proper care of him. Maybe it was just the idea of being the property of someone so much younger than he. And, strangely, he had been resentful at first of being ridden by someone so inexperienced. But, there again, she was a fast learner. He knew she was one of the honor students in her animal husbandry class. Jacob liked to think that he was partially responsible for that. He had learned her feel on the reins and Michelle had received high marks in the ring. He was very well trained in holding position - of course, that had been Anne's doing - and Michelle had received high marks for that too.

Jacob had hated the classes on encouragement. And, he was mortified to wear the graded homework on his backside. It was getting toward the end of the term. Jacob wondered if the class would continue. For the most part it had been nice to have the break from just standing in the corral at the school waiting for his owner to return. And he had picked up some information and tips about how this place worked. Most of it was disheartening such as:

"A pony, in spite of some resemblance, is not a person." Jacob hated hearing this. He still thought of himself as a person although it was becoming more and more difficult to do so.

"Security must be observed at all times. Even a well trained pony is only a sliver's distance from being wild." He guessed he proved this when he ran from Sally. But, he knew better than to try to escape again. He would not forget the punishment he had received when he had been captured again. Not that there had been even the slightest hint of a chance to get away.

"Use the two-tether rule. When changing tethers the new tether is connected before the old one is released." He was always on a leash, held by his reins, or clipped by one of the convenient anchor points on his body to something.

"A pony's arms should always be considered lethal. They are only released to be repositioned. They are only released when you can work from behind the pony and with the pony otherwise restrained. They should only be released one at a time." He thought this was a silly rule. His arms had been held useless behind his back for so long that he doubted he could do a push-up if they were released. While his upper body at the chest, back and neck, had developed and were very strong, his arms were probably worthless. Still, they followed this rule. His arm binder was only opened and his arms removed after he had been restrained at the neck and ankles. And the neck restraints all had operating mechanisms that were well beyond the reach of anyone whose neck was restrained in it.

"A standing pony that is not in a secure corral is always hobbled." Michelle had learned this one well. Sally had been a little lax about it, but not Michelle. Jacob knew that if she was observed violating any of the rules she could get a bad score at school. He wondered if she would become more relaxed later. But her behavior had become second nature. He could see the wisdom in training the teenagers to develop safe habits. He expected that he was never going to be left unhobbled.

"The pony must know you are in control at all times. The slightest resistance or even reluctance must be corrected immediately, and if necessary punished. You must be fair, but firm. A pony will learn to respect and trust you, but it must first fear you." Jacob hated the truth of these statements. And that brought things to the class of the day.

The students were learning the art of punishment. The lesson today involved the cane. Caning was a severe punishment. It was normally reserved for serious breaches. But it was also utilized to let the pony know who was in control. A pony needed to know that the owner could punish the pony for whatever reason (or no reason) that the owner deemed appropriate. The students were going to learn the proper use of the cane to punish their ponies and tonight's homework was to deliver six strokes of a number 3 cane. There would be two to the buttocks evenly crossing both globes at the extended position. The strokes were to be an inch apart. The second two strokes were to be on the inside thighs, one to each side. They were to be angled down from a point 3 inches below the top of the leg, on the inside, at a 45-degree angle. For these strokes the legs would be spread. The final two strokes would be with the legs fastened together and would be just below the buttocks across the top of the thighs. The first stroke was to be as close to the point where the buttocks joined the legs as possible. The next, and final stroke, was to be an inch below.

Each stroke was to be made in order. The time of the stroke would be written next to it. The student would then write a self-critique of each stroke with a felt pen to the right of the welt and mark its evenness or unevenness. Each successive stroke would follow in order not more than 30 or less than 10 minutes apart. The pony's response and reaction to each stroke would be recorded on the left side of the welt. Each stroke must apply enough force to leave a discernible mark. The grade would be based upon the proper positioning of the stroke and the evenness of the mark not the severity of the stroke.

The teacher had brought in a demonstration pony to show the class how to administer the beating. With his back to the teacher, Jacob could only listen to the swish of the cane and the screams of the poor pony. Jacob was not even sure if it was a colt or a filly. He only knew that the gag it clearly wore was not sufficient to stop the depth of the screams. In addition, the violent sounds of the pony's attempts to escape from the frame to which it was restrained for this "demonstration" sent chills through Jacob. The teacher went on to inform the students that even a moderate force (presumably what had been employed) was quite painful.

This was not fair. He was going to be beaten. He was going to be beaten, not because he had done anything wrong, but because it was a teenager's homework assignment. What was wrong with these people? How could they think this was ok? Would Michelle do this? Yes, she clearly would, it was a part of her class, and she didn't see anything wrong with it. Maybe she would go lightly on him. He could hear all the students swinging the cane and testing the feel of it in their hands. No, she would want the best grade possible and that means she would want deep clear welts on his backside. Jacob shivered and broke position to look around the room. Michelle caught him almost immediately and a slash of her crop across his stomach corrected his position. Her ‘corrections’ were now instantaneous.

Standing back in the corral tethered to a sturdy post set in the ground Jacob was desultory. He had not thought about escape for a long time, but right now, he was. He knew there was no chance while at school. He was sure he would have little opportunity back at the farm. That meant his only chance would be on the ride home. Months ago at the beginning of the school term, he could have easily thrown Michelle from his back. Now she rode as if she was a part of him. He would have to look for an opportunity. He did not want to be canned and he could see no way he was going to avoid it if he could not escape.

Jacob felt his stomach knot as school ended and the students retrieved their ponies to head for home or some other destination. Jacob never knew where they were going until he was actually ridden there. He could obtain some sense in that home usually meant turning right from the corral. Town meant turning left. Town usually involved a group of riders, almost always four or five. Home would often start with two or three riders and mounts for the first mile, but the last several miles were always just Jacob and Michelle.

Jacob felt pressure on his reins and realized that Michelle was releasing them from the post ring. She was engaged in conversation with one of her friends as she did. Jacob saw that the corral gate was open as a number of riders exited on their ponies. Jacob felt the fear well up in him. He was angry, this was so unfair, and he was not going to stand for it. He pulled back against the reins. Michelle was not expecting his action and he felt the reins pull free from her hand. She turned her attention back toward him and stepped forward. He backed away keeping his now dangling reins out of reach.

“Mount.” She commanded. He was having none of it. He glanced at the open gate, and broke for what looked like freedom. There was no clear plan in his head. Just panic at the thought of being caned, and his reaction to knowing he had already disobeyed his mistress.

Jacob was almost to the gate, a distance of about 25 feet, when his balls and penis erupted in pain. It felt like thousands of red hot needles were being pushed into his sexual organs. If he had had hands they would have grasped his crotch. They would have torn at the casing that enclosed his penis and the heavy ring that circled his scrotum just above his balls. But his hands were helplessly confined behind him so there was no way for him to even touch the tortured flesh.

A wail involuntarily erupted from his throat. He dropped to his knees and turned to face Michelle. She was standing at the spot from which he had started his bolt to freedom. In her right hand she held a small disk, no more than a couple of inches across. Her hand was extended toward him and she had obviously pressed a button on the disk. And, from the look of her hand and the fire that continued to rage through his loins, she continued to hold it down.

Jacob gave her his best pleading look, knowing that she completely controlled the pain he was experiencing, and that until she decided he had had enough, there was nothing he could do but endure.

After what was probably no more than another second, but felt like minutes to Jacob, she released her finger and dropped her hand with the disk. Only then did she start to walk toward the now kneeling pony. Everyone else in the corral had turned and was watching. Jacob kept his eyes focused on his mistress, but he could see the fear in the eyes of the other ponies.

“So, this is the loyal obedient pony that will gladly accept the cane of his mistress”, laughed a girl standing near Jacob. He could have seen her if he turned his head to the voice, but he kept his eyes on his mistress instead.

Michelle’s lips and eyes had tightened. Jacob could see that she was on the verge of either yelling or crying. He could not tell if she was more embarrassed or angry. He felt his body start to shake. She continued to hold the plastic disk in her hand ready to use. He was truly terrified now. He wanted to jump to his feet and flee, but he knew he could not. The shock had hurt. It had hurt terribly, but most important it had doubled him over. There was no way to run while receiving that shock. He broke eye contact and lowered his head.

“Well, he will feel the cane. It is just luck for him that the homework assignment is only six strokes. But, then, maybe I need more practice. I think six strokes tonight, then six strokes tomorrow and maybe even each night for the rest of the week.” Michelle had reached Jacob and now held his reins firmly in her hand. As she spoke she pulled on the reins and Jacob felt the brank on his bit dig uncomfortably into his tongue. This was not going to be a pleasant ride home.

Jacob wished he could plead with her, but even if he were allowed to speak without being further punished, the bit in his mouth would have rendered any speech unintelligible. He tried to look up into her eyes with his best pleading look but her face had not softened. He was doomed.

“Mount.” She commanded again and punctuated her command with a slap of her crop to his chest. He hated this school for making her so proficient with the crop, but he knew this was child’s play compared with how his evening was going to play out. He quickly assumed the correct position. Maybe during the ride home he could recover some points. It had been a long time since electricity had been used on him, and even at that, he had not known of the full ability of the devices he wore on this penis and balls. He was completely helpless and controlled. He had been so stupid to try to run. Where on earth would he have gone anyway? At least now he deserved the caning he was going to receive. He only hoped that tonight would be enough to satisfy Michelle that he was properly punished. He could only hope. She would decide the punishment and he would receive it.

Jacob did not feel the same freedom that he usually felt on the run home. Michelle sat firmly in the saddle, but she felt stiff and her body did not meld with his as it usually did. It also seemed that her use of the crop was both more often and certainly with a heavier hand. This was going to be a very uncomfortable evening.

Jacob weighed his options – he had none. He was only a beast, a disobedient beast that needed to be made to understand that his role was to obey. Fortunately, he did not need to even think about where he was going. His mind wandered in its own circle of torment as his body responded to the reins, the crop, and the knees and heels of his rider.

When he felt a firm jerk on his reins, driving his bit painfully into his mouth, he realized that he was home. As commanded, he came to a stop. Michelle quickly dismounted and hobbled Jacob’s ankles. He realized that the hobble really did not change the dynamics of control, not as long as she could bring him down with one click of the remote in her pocket, but it did communicate his status physically. He could only take short steps at the limit of the 12” hobble (even shorter than normal.) The chain of the hobble rattled as he was led toward a horizontal bar set at about waist level. Michelle guided Jacob to the bar, slipped under the bar and pulled his reins forward causing him to bend forward over the bar.

Jacob wanted to resist, but he knew it was useless and that it would only bring him more suffering. He leaned forward against the bar as it pushed into his abdomen just above his hips. His upper body was pulled down by the pressure on his reins as the bit dug into his mouth. Jacob had tried to preserve what little dignity he had left, but an involuntary moan escaped as he was bent forward until his upper body was parallel to the ground. The bar was only about three inches in diameter, and it dug into his abdomen. Jacob tried to pull himself back, but was stopped by the reins. Michelle had tied them off to a ring in the ground.

After securing his reins she moved around behind him. He felt the hobble chain released and then his left leg moved out to the left and fastened in place. The movement to the side increased the pressure on his abdomen with his right hoof still in the middle, below him taking up the slack. But, that was not to last. He felt his right leg moved to the right. His left hoof barely touched the ground; he did not want his right hoof in the same posture. He tried to pull his hoof free of her grasp, but it was too late. With a single movement she had slipped his leg to the right and fastened the ring on the outside of the pony boot to a waiting chain.

Jacob felt panic spread through his body. He tried to pull his legs free, first the right, then the left. They were held tightly with the front of the shoe on each hoof just touching the ground. It was enough to scrape at the dirt, but not sufficient to take his weight off his abdomen. He tried to shift his body backwards to get some relief, but the bar fit firmly into the fold of his belly just above his hips. Unless he could straighten his body up he could not relieve the pressure. He tried that, but the reins held him tight and punished his mouth for his efforts. In frustration he twisted his body and pulled helplessly at his arms inside the enclosure of the armbinder.

Then, defeated and humiliated, he gave up. He was completely and truly helpless. He was going to be punished as a disobedient pony and there was not a thing he could do about it. Now he could only hope that she would get it over quickly so he could get back to the comfort of his stall. He felt like crying, but he did not want to be seen crying. Especially, he did not want to be seen crying before he was even punished. He was not sure what this was going to be like, but he was sure he was not going to like it. He remembered being caned on the soles of his feet. Actually, he could not really remember the pain; the mind has a way of wiping that part of the experience away. What he remembered is that he had never in his life experienced anything like it, and that he would have done anything to have made it stop. Would this be worse? Would it be better? He did not know, but he knew it would hurt. He knew it would hurt a lot.

He heard the swish of the cane. He stiffened waiting for the blow, but it did not come. Instead he heard the dull thud of the cane striking something else. Had she missed him? There was the same whoosh again, then the same dull thud. Again he tensed and jerked at the thud, but it was not on him. He tried to look back between his legs to see her, but he could not, his head was held by the reins fastened to the floor in front of him. She was practicing.

He tried to relax, but each successive swish and thud made him want to scream. “Please, get on with it. Get it over with.” He was screaming to himself. It did no good. She would start when she was ready and he would wait.

Every time she stopped for a moment, every time he though he heard her move, he tensed, expecting that he would feel the strike of the cane. He felt himself shuddering and shivering. The wait, the anticipation, it was worse than the actual punishment.

NO. That was absolutely not true.

There had been another whoosh, but this time it was not a practice stroke to some bag of grain, this time the cane found both globes of his buttock right across the middle. The flesh indented, actually engulfing much of the cane, as its momentum came to a stop and it was sprung back.

Jacob felt the contact with his flesh. It took a second for it to register and communicate from his buttocks to his brain. His eyes went wide, his throat almost closed as he gasped and tried to scream. The pain had been beyond his imagination. He remembered that the pain of having his feet beaten was terrible, but that pain was then, this pain was now, right now, and right now it was more than he could handle.

He tried to pull back, but that only drove the brank on his bit into his tongue punishing his mouth. He tried to lift his legs, but they were held stretched and fastened to the floor. He tried to roll his body on the bar wedged into his lower abdomen, but there was no slack to allow movement. Even though his arms had become all but useless from non-use over the time he had been a pony, there was a memory of the use of his hands, and he wanted to use them right now. He wanted to reach for his bottom and try to sooth the horrible burning that lingered after the stroke of the cane. That, of course, was denied him.

Instead, Jacob dropped his head to ease the pull on his reins. His eyes filled with tears and he sobbed. He tried to form words, he tried to plead for mercy, but the sounds leaving his mouth over his bit were unintelligible and animalistic.

Michelle was behind him now. He felt her hand trace the length of the red welt that crossed both globes of his buttocks. Then he felt something cool and moist run across the length of the welt. It felt like he had been hit again. Jacob knew only that Michelle had used something on the wound. He did not know if it was to clean the wound or just increase his punishment. He did not know that it was vinegar. He did know that the pain and burning from the stroke of the cane itself was intensified by the application.

Jacob felt the tip of a felt pen first on one end of the burning stripe then writing at the other end. He felt the tip mark some spots along the welt he did not know what she was marking or why. He only wanted this assignment to finish. That had been one stroke. There were still five to go. He was not going to be able to stand it.

Michelle had come around and looked into his face. She touched the edge of his eye socket taking up the moisture of his tears with her finger. Maybe she would take pity on him. She returned behind him and once again started to write on his buttocks with the felt pen. She was only recording his reaction to the stroke of the cane.

Then she left the barn. He heard her return, but could hear voices. Anne was with her. He felt fingers on the welt on his buttocks. “The line is good and even, but you can get a bit more body into it.” It was Anne’s voice and Jacob did not like the advice at all. He knew he was helpless, but he still squirmed looking for any way to find some relief. Anne laughed and patted him on the buttocks above the punished area. She knew he was hoping for a means of escape.

Jacob heard the swish and the thud again. He listened as Anne gave her sister pointers. The conversation stopped and he knew this time that it was coming. He tensed and whined, but he could not move, not even an inch.

There was more body in this stroke. Jacob was sure of this. It felt to him like it was almost in the same spot as the prior stroke. In reality it was about an inch and a half away, but very even and very parallel to the first stroke.

As Jacob screamed and twisted in pain he heard Anne congratulate her sister on a good job. The pain was extreme. He was sure he would pass out from it, but he did not. Once again Michelle wiped down the welt with the vinegar. Once again the burning from the addition of the liquid was prolonged and deepened. With the addition of the vinegar he could clearly feel both wounds. He was sure they must have cut through the skin. He was sure that blood must be flowing from them. He was sure that he would wear the scars of these strokes for the rest of his days. In reality, although blood did ooze from several spots on both lines the skin was pretty much unbroken. The welts stood up about a quarter of an inch and were bright red now. They would darken to a deep purple by morning, but for now they were red. Michelle returned to her homework and with her felt tipped pen recorded her thoughts on the punishment thus far. Jacob knew not what was being written. Such things were not shared with ponies. They did not need to know about the techniques of punishment, they only needed to know that it was ever present for any defalcation, or even for none at all.

Jacob was left to his thoughts again. He remembered that the next two strokes were to be on the inner thighs. He pulled at each leg. He was so vulnerable held with his legs widely spread. He now knew had the cane could hurt. He knew that the inner thigh was a tender spot. Even with the solid layers of muscle that he had developed in his legs and thighs this was going to hurt. It was going to hurt a lot.

There was no practicing for the first of these strokes and Jacob was caught off guard by the quickness of the delivery of the punishment.

The pain on the inside of his leg was different than the pain across his bottom. This time it radiated up and down his leg. He felt it deep in his crotch. He needed to pull his knees up to his chest. He needed to close his legs. He needed to curl up into a ball. What he needed did not matter. He was held and he stayed spread across the bar with his legs stretched to the sides and anchored. He was sure that his inability to move made the pain that much greater.

Again there was the vinegar and the writing. All he could think was that he was half way there. “Oh God.” Only half way. He had been softly crying, but now he was sobbing. He could feel his chest rising and falling with each gasp for air as he descended into a pit of self pity. He was not sure how long he lay across the bar sobbing and praying for rescue that would not come. Michelle had left him until he settled down. No stroke of this punishment would be delivered unless he was completely ready to appreciate it.

He knew when the stroke to his other inner thigh was coming. He tried to tense against it, but there was nothing he could do to mitigate the pain of the process. He would do anything to make it stop, but there was nothing for him to do, so he could not make it stop. He had no control over anything. He had no free will about anything. He was only property. If the purpose of this exercise was to show him who he now was it had worked. There was no escape for him. There was no relief for him. There was, for him, only to obey.

The stroke to the other thigh was as terrible as he had anticipated, but he now hoped that the worst was over. How bad could the last two stokes, the ones on the thighs, below his buttocks, really be? It also meant that his ankles were released, put together, and strapped. This released a great deal of the strain. The position in which he had been restrained had tightened his legs and buttocks and he was sure it had made the punishment all that much more painful.

Jacob heard a clicking sound and felt the bar at his abdomen moving up. Once more he was on the very tips of his hooves. He tried to lift his legs, but discovered that when Michelle had wrapped the strap around his ankles, she had also clipped his restraints to a ring in the floor. Once again the flesh of his legs was stretched tight.

He didn’t know if she would practice hers stokes before the first hit to the back of his thighs. She did not. She delivered a perfect stroke just an inch below the crease of his buttocks and thighs, straight on to the back of the body, parallel to the floor and even across the back of both thighs.

If Jacob thought that this was a less sensitive part of the body, if he thought that having his legs together would reduce the pain, or that he had been now desensitized from the prior four strokes, he now knew that he was wrong. He howled at the pain. He did not understand how each new stroke of the infernal cane could be as bad, if not worse, than the last. He did not understand how his body could not find a way to accept and adjust to this assault that it was incapable of resisting. All he knew is that the pain was terrible.

After the second stroke across his upper legs, and its cleansing and marking, his spirits began to rise. That was the end of the homework assignment. His bottom, thighs, and legs burned something terrible. He did not know how long this was going to hurt so badly, but at least now the pain was a constant, that is so long as he did not try to move.

Jacob longed for his old stall. He longed to lie in the hay and sleep. He longed to escape into his mind and away from his captivity. But he was still stretched over the bar, tightly tied. He had paid little attention to it because of the horrific pain from the caning, but now his abdomen was starting to hurt from carrying so much of the weight of his body. Because it had been raised so that the tips of his hooves just touched the floor and because his legs were strapped together and anchored to the floor there was nothing he could do to ease the tension of his position.

She had finished her homework. Why was he still left here? Everything was dark and quiet. He did not even know where she had gone. He realized that the caning was not his punishment for running. That was what he was to endure out of his loyalty and love for his mistress. He had failed her on that score and he was going to be punished for that failure. He was not sure exactly how, but he was sure being left in this very uncomfortable position was part of it. He did not realize that it also prevented him from rubbing any of the parts of his body that had been caned against anything to attempt to get any relief. Such an action may have interfered with the marking left by the cane or possibly obscured or smeared the writing. There was a rational for his current position, it was just that he did not know it and nobody bothered to share such things with a pony.

After a time Jacob realized that he was not going to be released. He tried to make the best of his position and get some sleep, but it was almost impossible. He could feel each of the six welts that had been marked across his body. On the surface the welts burned. Below, the bruised flesh and muscles ached. The surface pain would disappear long before the ache would subside, but throughout this night they would both torment him, aided by the pain in his mouth, when he tried to shift his position thus pulling on his reins, and the ache in his abdomen from his inability to even shift his weight, even slightly.

He was not removed from the bar until morning. He was groomed, but care was taken with his buttocks and thighs – not so much to ease his pain, but more to insure that Michelle’s markings (her homework) were not streaked or obscured.

Jacob tried to measure her mood. Was she still angry with him from yesterday? He hoped that she had done a good job with the punishment. If he were asked, he would profess that he had been well punished, not that he expected anyone to ask. Michelle’s mood did seem to be better, but Jacob could tell she was nervous. He remembered how he felt in school when he had an important assignment to turn in. Again, he hoped that she would get a good grade.

From Michelle’s reaction after the teacher had carefully inspected the welts on his buttocks and thighs; after she had written comments that Jacob could not see; and after she had written a grade, that he also could not see, it seemed that the grade was a good one. Michelle returned Jacob to his post in the corral with an extra spring in her step.

Jacob’s body hurt. He could still feel the fire from each of the six dark welts. He knew that the flesh around them was badly bruised. And, he was stiff from being tied in such an uncomfortable position all night. Additionally, he hated the fact that he had been written all over, and he didn’t even know what any of it said. Several of Michelle’s friends stopped by where he was tethered to read Jacob’s thighs and bottom. He could not believe that a group of young teens were poking and prodding at his naked flesh while discussing him as if he were no more than a bicycle. He hated them. He hated all of them, but he was already in trouble and did not want or need any more punishment. He dutifully bent forward, spread his legs, and displayed his tormented flesh to their inspection.

If it wasn’t bad enough to be displayed at school Michelle and her friends rode to the shopping area after school. Jacob found himself in the familiar position of being hitched to the rail outside the soda shop. At least he wasn’t the only pony that had been whipped and then graded. There was a large palomino, he stood maybe two inches taller than Jacob and looked like he outweighed Jacob by 20 or 30 lbs. Jacob looked at the markings and grade on the palomino. His owner had received a B-. The palomino looked at Jacob’s buttocks and thighs, and then looked up at Jacob, glaring. Jacob did not know why the hostility. Two fillies placed at the rail separated the two stallions so there was no chance of a confrontation. This did not stop the other stallion from snorting and pawing at the ground. Jacob was tiring of the territorial bullshit he kept seeing in other male ponies.

Jacob wasn’t trying to intrude on their territory. He wasn’t here by choice, and he doubted that any of them were either. If anything, they should have a sense of comradery, but that was clearly not the case. When back at the farm he had learned to be constantly on alert for Thunder. Jacob knew if given the chance the stallion would attack him. Jacob also figured that would mean both of them getting punished. It was stupid, and he did not need it. He was tired, he was humiliated, and he just wanted to be home in his stall. But that wasn’t his choice. His eyes followed the reins as they looped forward from his face to where they were wrapped and tied to the post. A simple wrap and cinch, only a few feet from his face, but enough to keep him in place. How many hours had he spent looking at such simple but effective restraints. He sighed and did what he spent a lot of time as a pony doing – he waited.

The little shopping area was always busy in the afternoon. The soda shop was the place most of the young people assembled, but there were a number of shops catering to the adults, several clothing stores and a small market. Jacob looked over at the window of a small clothing boutique. This place in many ways was like something out of a time warp, but the clothing seemed fashionable, at least fashionable as Jacob remembered it, he, of course, had not worn cloths since his capture many months (How long ago had it really been?) before. He remembered that when the former Jacob had looked at clothing he always pictured himself wearing the items. Titan did no such thing. Titan did not wear clothing and could not even imagine how such things would look on his body. Still, there was plenty of activity on the street. As Jacob stood waiting for his owner to return he felt like every human who walked by was inspecting his rear.

The shopping area was only two blocks long. The soda shop was near one end so it was difficult to see the entire street, but Jacob had only seen two motor vehicles. Even though not the most efficient it seemed that inside the valley people preferred pony power. Jacob could see other saddled ponies and at least half a dozen carts of various description. They varied from single pony carts to a larger four in hand buggy. The team was strong and well matched. The harnesses were well polished. And the buggy shined. This was clearly the property of a very powerful and well respected person. The ponies all stood tall and proud as if embodied with the position and power of their owner. Titan, nee Jacob, felt slightly intimidated. He, after all, was just a simple ridding pony, the possession of a mere teenager. He remembered the pride he had felt when he had been ridden by Sally in the Spring rodeo.

Then he stopped and shook his head. What on earth was he doing? Had he given in to the idea of being a pony? Should he? Is this how he was to spend the rest of his life? Fortunately he did not have to find answers for these questions. His owner had returned and she was releasing his reins from the rail. They would now head home and he could get back to his stall and get some much needed sleep.

It was very early the next morning when Jacob was roused from his stall. It was still dark outside. It was not Michelle who had come for him but rather Anne. As she put Jacob through his morning routine he could see that the farmer had Thunder out and was prepping him.

Another difference is that Jacob’s tack was different today. Instead of a saddle he was fitted with a wide girth belt with straps leading up and over his shoulders, around his chest, and around each upper thigh. The harness insured that the belt would be held in place not twisting, or ridding up or down.

Jacob was not surprised when he was led out of the stable and connected to a cart by attachments at the sides of his belt. He was a little surprised when Thunder was hitched to the cart next to him. This cart had only two wheels, but it was about three feet wide and six feet long. A seat at the front of the cart could seat two, and could be moved back and forth to balance weight of the passengers with a load in the bed. Although Jacob could not turn and look at the cart once he was hitched into place, he had gotten a good look at it as he was led out, and could see that it was loaded with what looked like milk cans. The cans were about two feet tall and round with the distinctive press on caps. It looked like there were five rows of four cans each tied to the cart. In the space between the large milk cans and the driver were a number of smaller cans.

Jacob and Thunder waited in harness. They would do nothing until they were signaled to move. Jacob could not see behind, but to the side he saw Anne leaving the milking barn. She was leading one of the milk animals by a line fastened to her collar. They quickly disappeared from Jacob’s view. He heard activity behind near the cart, but could not tell what was happening back there.

Jacob felt the movement and weight on the yoke bars attached to each side of the waist belt of his harness as someone climbed into the cart. A second sensation of movement indicated that there were now two passengers. Jacob and Thunder were going to have to pull the cart, two passengers, and he had no idea how many gallons of milk in metal containers. This was likely to be a challenge.

As Jacob tried to get his mind around the task at hand, he heard the distinctive sound of the driver signaling for them to begin. This was accompanied by the slap of his reins and the crack of the whip off to his side.

Jacob and Thunder leaned forward into their traces and started to pull the cart. Surprisingly it was well balanced and began to move immediately. Unless they had much of a hill to climb, or descend, it would not be that hard to move. The problem was that Jacob and Thunder had never practiced pulling in tandem and the cart kept lurching from one side to the other as they tried to find a flow. Jacob felt that Thunder was being very jerky in his movement and that was completely screwing up their smooth movement. Jacob tried to turn his head to the left to see Thunder but his harness included check chains and blinders. He would be unable to do so. Just as well he thought, right now his look would not be kind.

The driver was clearly not pleased. Jacob felt slight pressure back on his reins, but when he slowed the cart lurched to the right. Then he felt a slap of the reins and he tried to speed up. That caused the cart to lurch to the left. The whip cracked again, but this time it found Jacob’s buttocks. The driver was signaling to Jacob that Thunder had the pace. Jacob tried to concentrate on the pace. He listened to the fall of his hooves. He felt the motion of the bars to the cart. He began to sense the motion of Thunder’s upper body and the step. The movement was smoother. Jacob realized only one pony could set the pace. He, as the junior pony, had to follow.

Jacob recognized the path they were following. He was ridden over this route many times. They were heading toward the little town area. Jacob had remembered the open market area on the opposite end of the street from the soda shop. He had never seen much activity there, but he was almost always at town after school. Today seemed to be a weekend and it was also early in the morning. The sun was just starting to break over the horizon. They sky was clear with only a few soft clouds. Jacob could tell they were heading South East as the cresting sun was to his front left. It was going to be a beautiful sunrise, and from the looks of things, a very nice day.

Jacob remembered when he would get up early on go out for a run. He remembered the enjoyment he received from watching the sun come up and how free he felt as he worked up a sweat from the run. He was sweating now. But he did not feel very free. He felt a tear form in the corner of his eye.

The cart although well balanced was still heavy and even though he had found a rhythm with Thunder they were working very hard to keep up even a decent speed. It was a much slower speed than he was used to when he covered this route with Michelle in the saddle. Jacob thought about the feel of a rider on his back. He thought about the feel of legs against his ribs and the sound, smell and feel of breath next to his head. He did not like this cart business. He far preferred being ridden. He was not a cart pony and he did not like this. He did not like it at all.

Jacob was relieved to see the town street ahead. The farmer had seemed to understand that the cart was heavy and the ponies needed to keep to a slower pace, but he was not going to let that be a walk. He had a time in his mind to get here and he had used his whip to insure the proper encouragement. Jacob was sure that he had felt the bite of the whip more often than Thunder, but this was something new to him. He was not a cart pony and he should not even have to be doing this. But the farmer knew how to use the whip, and Jacob had found himself pushing past what he thought was his was capability to avoid its bite.

The famer guided his cart to the end of town made up of small stands. This was on the far end of the street from the soda shop. After school there were usually a few shoppers, mostly the young people hanging around the soda shop. Jacob and the other ponies would spend their time hitched to the rail outside the soda shop. Sometimes the young people would take the ponies into the field for pony races. Jacob enjoyed that a lot. Sally had trained him to be fleet of foot, if not fast, at least agile and he won many races. It was often the highlight of his trips here. But now it was early none of the regular shops, including the soda shop, were open.

Around the area of the small stands there was a lot of activity. Carts, similar to the one Jacob had helped pull to town, sat next to many of the stalls. The ponies patently waited for the wares to be unloaded.

The farmer pulled to stop at one of the stalls and Jacob could hear the milk cans being unloaded from the cart. This all made sense. This was a farmers market, and the milk from the dairy farm would be the product of this stand, for sale to the locals. The sun was now fully visible over the horizon; it must be about 7 a.m. Jacob figured the early shoppers would soon arrive to get the freshest of the produce.

Once the cart was unloaded Jacob and Thunder, led by the farmer, pulled the cart away from the stand toward what looked like a small corral. Jacob recognized the posts set in the ground inside the corral at about every six feet. Each post had a ring on the top. Jacob and Thunder did not enter the corral but were stopped at a rail just outside. Their reins tied off to the hitching rail. Jacob was hobbled. Thunder was not and that did not make Jacob too happy, but Jacob knew you only needed to hobble one pony in a team to keep the entire team in place, he only wished it had been Thunder selected for this dubious honor.

In the corral there were four individual ponies each standing by a post with their reins tied off to the ring in the top of the post. They were all hobbled and several had the additional security of a line from the center of the hobble to the ring at the bottom of the post. Ponies only restrained by their reins could actually walk around the post. That limited freedom of movement was not allowed the ponies whose hobbles were connected to the post.

Jacob watched the farmer move out of sight to the back of the cart. A moment later he reappeared and led the dairy animal that they had brought from the barn into the corral. She had clearly been tied to the back of the cart and forced to run along behind them on the trip here. She was panting and appeared to be trying to catch her breath. The pace here had been very slow, but she seemed to be suffering from even that. Even though the dairy herd was exercised daily it was not for long and she was clearly not in very good shape. Jacob guessed that given her talents to lactate that did not matter much.

The farmer attached her leash (she wore no bridle or reins) to the ring at the top of one of the posts. He hooked a clipboard with some sheets of paper to a ring on the side of the post. Jacob could not read it from his distance, but it looked like it was a chart of some kind with boxes and numbers. Jacob assumed it was the animal’s production records. Jacob thought he should feel anger or sympathy for this poor creature, but he didn’t. If anything, it made him feel slightly superior. She was just an animal that spent her time bent over in the barn producing milk. However it had been induced, there was no skill or talent that she brought to the production. Jacob briefly wondered why she was being sold. Clearly the corral was for livestock to be sold. She looked older than most of the dairy animals he had seen. Perhaps her production had dropped off and she was to be sold off to a private owner to make room for a new producer.

Jacob looked around the corral to see what he could learn of the other animals. The other four occupants were all ponies, two mares and two stallions. One of each of them stood patiently as well trained ponies did. But the other pair, they seemed like a pair, were clearly new to the bridle. Whereas the first two ponies were on about two feet of rein these two were pulled in to six inches. They were both hobbled to six inches as well, and the hobble was connected to the post.

The mare was a lovely site. Now six feet tall with her pony boots she was probably five seven as a human. Her skin was a light tan, more likely natural, only slightly enhanced by exposure to the outdoors. She looked athletic with well defined but not overly muscled lines. Her breasts were magnificent. They were perfectly shaped and seemed firm and straight – although, Jacob knew that the form of the harness subtly added support to a mare’s breasts that made them look more firm. She was at least a C and perhaps a D cup. Her legs were long and her hips well curved. Her waist had been pulled down to a very narrow girth. Jacob knew that the harness would cinch the waist in, but he was sure that she had started with a small waist before the application of the straps she now fought to escape. A mane of blonde hair matched well the tone of her flesh.

The mare kept shaking her upper body. She tried to pull away from the post. Jacob knew that would not work, and of course, it did not. She turned her head from side to side being stopped at each attempt as the reins pulled tight. She danced from foot to foot on her hoof boots and moved her buttocks around and up and down. Jacob knew that dance. During the first few weeks of being ‘tailed’, the intrusion of the plug in the anal cavity seemed to compel a compulsive attempt to expel it. Such action was to no avail and after a while a pony adjusted to the presence. What was much more difficult to adjust to, was the fact that with the plug was an open shaft with a pressure cap. The pony no longer had any control over this function. Unless the gate had been locked, which only a master or mistress could do, when enough pressure build up, it would open and the contents of the lower bowel would just spill out. Granted, most ponies were mucked as a part of their morning cleaning, so incidents were infrequent, but they did happen. Jacob had been mortified the first time he had heard the sound of the shaft opening and felt and heard the waste fall to the ground. But he knew he had no control over it, and now, if it happened it happened.

The mare kept looking over at the stallion. Her eyes had a pleading look and she was trying to say something to him, but it was completely garbled by the discipline bit. When she looked up at him the stallion went wild in his bonds jerking and pulling at the reins and his confined arms in the sheath behind his back. Finding no relief from the closely confining bonds he lunged against the pole standing in the ground as if he could break it off or dislodge it from the ground. It was six inches across and well mounted in the ground. He bounced back and fell to one side being only stopped by the reins to his bit. He found his feet – not easy with hobbled legs and steep ponyboots – and got back upright. A pained scream or cry issued from his throat. If there had been words they were lost in the bit. He must have tried to say something because he started to shake his head from side to side as if doing so could loosen or remove the bit.

The male was large and powerful. As a human, he had clearly been involved in sports, probably high contact such as football or hockey. Being involuntarily controlled was alien to him and it was clear that he had not yet accepted it. Right now he was being driven to rage by the fact that he could do nothing to help the poor mare who somehow seemed to expect him to do something about her plight.

Jacob wondered if they had been taken as a pair. He speculated that such was the case. Both showed signs of having tasted the whip, but not a severe punishment, more akin to encouragement and correction in training. But, both were clearly unbroken. Neither wore a saddle. Jacob wondered why they were being sold and if the sale was as a pair. He couldn’t wait to watch when shoppers began to inspect the merchandise. What would drive the stallion to greater despair, his inability to do anything about the hands inspecting and probing his body, or seeing the mare subjected to this activity? In the end Jacob knew that both of these would help the stallion along his path to being broken as a properly trained pony.

Jacob did not get to wait and watch the shoppers inspect the ponies. Instead, the farmer unhitched him from the cart. His reins were still tied to the hitching rail and he was still hobbled so he did not move from his spot between the traces of the cart. Then the farmer hobbled and unhitched thunder.

When he was done, he led both ponies to an area behind the produce stands. Here a larger cart had four other ponies being hitched into the traces. The cart was designed for a team of six, three rows of two, and with the addition of Jacob and Thunder at the front row it had its full complement. Jacob had just experienced being a part of a team. He had never dreamed being part of a team of six. He was concerned that he was at the front row so he could not observe what was going on behind him – because of his blinkers; he could not even see Thunder who was just to his left. He wondered who would set the pace; he hoped it was not to be him, although he had no idea how he was going to find the pace other than from the reins and the driver’s whip. He did realize that he and Thunder were positioned furthest from the driver. He hoped that the closer ponies would draw the attention of the whip although he knew from observation and other training that it clearly had the range to reach him, especially for a right handed driver.

The cart was empty as they were hitched in place. Jacob wondered where they were going and what they were going to be carrying. He knew no one would bother to tell them. Unless he happened to be positioned to get a glimpse he may never know what their cargo was. But he knew, hitched as he was, the driver’s whip would insure that he would put all his energy into getting them to where the driver wanted to go.

The whip popped above and to the right of Jacob, then to the left and above Thunder. The message was clear. Jacob stepped out with his right foot and leaned into the traces. The cart was heavy and resisted. There was a snap and the sting of the whip against Jacob’s right thigh. His was the first pony flesh drawn. He guessed that meant he was the pace. He pushed forward adding to the force he placed against the harness. He felt movement, felt the weight ease as he began to step forward. The reins snapped and the pace picked up.

They never reached anything resembling a gallop with this cart. That would have exhausted the team in minutes, but the pace became something faster than a walk but not quite a full trot. Jacob knew he was not lifting his legs as high as he should, but the driver did not seem to mind. Jacob could feel the weight of the load on his shoulders carried from the waist belt by the straps that extended up and over his shoulders.

Just as with the two pony cart, the pace and teamwork seemed to follow. Jacob had been put in the pace position because he was the least experienced pony and it was thus easier for all the other ponies to guide on him. The most important thing for him to do was to keep a good steady pace. It took a while for him to learn that, but every time he increased or decreased the pace he was counseled with the pain of the whip and a new red strip on his back, buttocks, and thighs. He figured it out and focused on staying constant.

By the end of half an hour he was feeling tired and wished they would take a break, but he had found the pace and the absence of the feel of the whip was enough encouragement for him to keep the pace and concentrate on his breathing instead.

He got his second wind, and was just beginning to think he could keep the pace all day, when he felt pressure on the reins slowing him and finally bringing the team to a halt. As they slowed and stopped Jacob could feel the weight of the cart pressing against the team, trying to maintain its momentum. They were on a paved road and Jacob could see the lines of white stripes painted across the roadway forming a painted cattle guard. About ten feet beyond the last stripe of the cattle guard was a thick solid white line. Jacob was basically a city boy, but he knew what a cattle guard was. He knew that the spaced rails allowed vehicles to drive over but could be problematic for the hooves of most domestic animals. He did not know how it would be to try to cross a real cattle guard with the hoof boots, but this was not a real cattle guard, this was just painted onto the road. He knew that this was a technique used to prevent properly conditioned animals from crossing even though there was no danger to them, but he and the other ponies certainly knew better. Never-the-less he was being signaled to stop.

Jacob was trying to make the movement smooth and graceful as they brought the cart to a halt, but he could hear whinnies from his left and right behind him. He also felt the cart yawing to the left as Thunder was clearly trying to stop sooner. “What is that about?” Jacob asked himself as his final steps brought the cart to a stop. Certainly they knew that this fake cattle guard posed no danger to them.

The inertia and Jacob’s efforts to be graceful, in spite of Thunder’s urgency caused Jacob (and Thunder) to step across the first line of the guard. As he his body crossed the line Jacob felt first a tingling, then a mild electric shock in his testicle. Thunder was whining and pushing backwards; seemingly desperate to get back on the other side of the line. The shock was slowly increasing.

“A fucking electric fence!” It was starting to hurt now. If it kept increasing, what was uncomfortable would soon become painful. Jacob joined Thunder in his efforts to push back. They were only a foot or two into the painted cattle guard, maybe three lines. It was far enough to bring the ponies in the next row up to, but not yet over the first line. Even so, those ponies did not want to be anywhere near this line and joined in the effort to push the cart back. The driver did not interfere and allowed the team to move backwards until the line was a good three feet in front of them. Then he pulled on the reins and signaled to come to a complete halt.

Safely on the back side of the painted cattle guard the shock had gone away and Jacob was happy to stop. The driver came forward and hobbled Jacob. He did the same with the left rear pony, but Jacob could not see that. Two hobbled ponies were sufficient to keep the team in place. And with the cart pointed forward only feet from the first line there was really no concern they would move in that direction.

Once they were stopped, Jacob looked around to try to figure out where they were. The paved road continued another 40 feet from the solid line to a gate in a ten foot high wire fence. Tarmac to the right of the road inside the gate provided a place for cars and trucks to park. A large panel truck was parked in this area with its back toward the ponies and the cart.

After passing through the gate the road continued for another fifty feet and then intersected with what was clearly a public highway. Jacob gasped as he looked out through the open gate to this symbol of freedom. Most of the fence line was covered in vines and lined by trees making observation from the highway difficult. But the opening through the gate was clear. Instinctively Jacob edged his body forward. His instinctive movement was stopped by loud whinnies from Thunder and a slight tingling in Jacob’s scrotum. He eased back.

Freedom may be only 100 feet away, but it might as well be 100 miles. Jacob was hitched to a cart with his arms tightly bound behind his back. And even if he were free of his restraints he was held by an electric fence that he knew would painfully disable him before he even got to the gate, let alone to the road. He had held out some hope that if he could just get free of this tethers or enclosures that he might be able to get to a place where he could receive help. He now knew that there was no hope. He was a pony and he would stay a pony until his owners decided otherwise.

After a time Jacob managed to take his attention away from the highway, so close but yet so far away. What had he been brought here for? He looked at the panel truck parked by the side of the roadway, just inside the gate. After the team was fully stopped and properly hobbled the driver walked toward the truck. As he did two women got out of the cab of the truck. They met Jacob’s cart driver at the back of the truck and opened the sliding door at the rear.

Jacob could not hear the conversation but he could see that there was something in the truck as they started to unload the contents. It looked like they were removing bags from the truck and setting them by the side of the road. As the number increased from two to half a dozen Jacob could see that there was movement in the bags. Each bag was a strange looking pod reminiscent of, although much smaller, than a space capsule. At the top of the pod was something in the shape of a head, although each was fully encased in black material with the look of leather.

Jacob shivered as he got a better look at what was clearly a form of transportation restraint. Jacob did not know how the occupants of the bags were restrained within, but he was sure that they were. Given the size and shape of the bags it appeared that they were kneeling inside on a small circular platform, less than three feet in diameter. From this base platform, four petal shaped flaps were then raised to a collar around the neck of the occupant. Jacob could not tell whether the collar was separately applied or a part of one of the petals.

Each flap (or petal) overlapped the one to its left. In the area of the overlap a series of 2" wide horizontal metal flanges, one about every six inches set in the lower flap, passed through slots in the overlapping flap. Then a belt connected to the base of the bag, just below the line of flanges was threaded through each of the flanges joining the seams of the flaps together until the end of the belt reached the collar. At the collar the tab of the belt passed over a vertical flange. The four belts were then secured to the collar by another belt passing around the collar through each flange protruding therefrom. This final belt finally ended at a small flange and a padlock.

One single padlock held the entire assemblage together, with each flap and its securing flanges and belts irremovable unless the collar was first released. It would not have been necessary to secure the occupants arms and legs inside the bags, but given the limited movement Jacob observed and his experiences in this place, he was certain arms and legs were at least restrained if not hogtied.

The completion of the restraint was a leather discipline helmet that not only encased the head it removed all sight and seemed to be padded at the ears limiting what the occupant would hear. Jacob involuntarily twisted his arms within their restraints behind him as he looked at the scene before him. Suddenly his restraints did not seem so severe. He did not want to experience what he was watching.

There was not a lot of time to study the bags. The men did not waste any time moving the entire cargo of six squirming bags onto the back of the cart. So well secured and obscured were they that Jacob was not sure if they were male or female.

Jacob was not sure how the bags were secured to the cart. He could not see the cart from his position. However, it was not his job to worry about the load. It was not his job to decide when to go or where to go. It was only his job to follow the directions of the reins and the whip.

The driver took Jacob's bridle in his hand and guided the team in a circle until the cart faced back in the direction they had come. The cart had been empty on the way down here. Now it had six captives onboard; that was a lot more weight to pull. And, although not steep, the grade here had been somewhat downhill. That meant the trip back was going to be difficult.

The reins shook and the whip cracked in the air. It was time to go. Jacob Hoped the driver would not be expecting a fast pace as he leaned into the traces and felt the cart start to move. They moved forward at a walk, but the driver was not satisfied with that. The whip snapped, and once again, it was Jacob's haunch that felt the bite. He lunged forward. He would find whatever pace was necessary to avoid further encouragement from the whip.

Soon the ponies had a reasonable pace. The weight of the cart caused them to lean further into the traces, but once momentum was obtained, it became a matter of maintaining it. This was taking a great deal of energy and Jacob was getting tired. He knew the other ponies were feeling it as well because he could hear the whip cracking on flesh behind him. The whip did its job - the pace never flagged. There were times when Jacob was sure he was going to drop to the ground, but he was not going to be the first to fall. If the others could keep going so could he. He knew that there would be terrible punishment for any pony that caused them to come to a halt. He was not going to be that pony.

Jacob lost track of time. Had it been an hour? More? It didn't really matter time was not his anymore. How long had he even been in this place? He was not sure anymore. Every day was pretty much like the day before. He could not remember the last time he had seen a calendar - or even a clock for that matter.

Jacob's thoughts were interrupted by the sight of the town ahead. He was going to make it. The whole team was going to make it. The driver stopped them just beyond the gate of the slave market. Jacob could feel the shifting of the load and he could hear the sounds of the cart being unloaded, but that was all going on behind him, and he did not see what became of the load. It was not his concern. He was just transportation. Because the market was on one end of the street Jacob was looking up the small street with its shops and many shoppers. Now the street was filled mostly with adults. There were carts, buggies, and even a few saddle ponies. In all the times that Michelle had ridden him to the soda shop Jacob had never seen so many people in town. This must be the place to be on the weekend. At least he thought it was the weekend.

The farmer released Jacob and Thunder from the large cart and led them back to a hitching rail near the farm cart they had pulled down that morning. He did not immediately hitch them back to this cart, but he was careful to secure their reins to the rail and make sure that they were both hobbled. He did not bother to separate them. Seemingly the farmer knew that both Jacob and Thunder were too tired to do anything but stand there.

Jacob heard a familiar voice. It was Sally. He was immediately drawn from his lethargy. She was nearby. She was talking to another female, another familiar voice. It was Anne. Jacob twisted in his reins turning to look past Thunder to where the two girls were standing. Did Sally see him? Did she recognize him? Was she here to reclaim him? The weariness seemed to surge from him at the prospect of being back with Sally. He longed to feel her thighs and knees against his back and sides. He wanted to call out to her, but he knew that would be unseemly and he didn’t know how Anne would react. He was terrified of Anne.

“How does my favorite niece like her pony?” Sally’s voice, she knew he was here. How long had she known?

“She is thrilled. I think it has been very good for her. She is learning what she needs to know to control and master the animal.” Anne’s response did not surprise Jacob. He could testify to that.

“Is he making any progress?”

“Some. As long as he is under direct control the pony mind asserts itself, but, for some reason he is not fully broken. I still think that if he had the opportunity to run he would be gone in a minute. On the other hand, I do think I have given him some pause.” The last was true. Anne’s punishment of him was still clear in Jacob’s mind. Yes, he wanted his freedom. He wanted it very much, but he was not going to risk being punished again. Unless he could be 100% sure of success he was going to be a good very obedient pony.

“Well, make sure he stays in line. What about next year?” Sally looked over at Jacob. She had not looked at him during her entire conversation with Anne. Jacob looked back and tried to make eye contact. He tried to signal that he was sorry for what he did. He tried to signal that he wanted to be back with her. He wanted her to know that if she took him back he would not try to run away again. He chomped on his bit and thought of the words he would say if he were a person and not a pony.

“Michelle is applying to a number of colleges. With her grades I am sure she will get what she wants.”

“I am happy to hear that.”

“She is disappointed she will not be able to take Titan.”

“I understand. I am sure he would be a huge hit at Vassar or Brown. When she goes, there is room for him back at the ranch.” Sally smiled. She looked at Jacob and smiled. His heart leapt, but then she turned and she and Anne walked away, their conversation now lost to him by increasing distance. He wanted to run after her, but he was just a pony hobbled and held by his reins to a hitching post. It was not his decision to go anywhere and it was not within his control who would be his master of mistress. Jacob hung his head.

“Well Pony, I see you finally have a brand.” Jacob recognized that voice. It was Local Girl. He turned to look at her and did his best to smile with his bit. He tried to move toward her. Even though she was one of the control/owner class he still felt something of a kindred spirit with her. A surge of excitement shot through him.

“Too bad really, I was hoping to place my brand on you.” She had moved up close to him and was stroking his haunches.

Jacob looked toward her and made movements back and forth and up and down with his chin, trying to signal to her.

“You don’t really think I would take your bit out do you? . . . Yes, you really do.” She laughed and stroked his head. “Just priceless. I figured by now you would be full pony. But it looks like you are still holding out. Maybe you were hoping that based on our relationship back in the stable I would come along, find you, and rescue you from your fate.” She laughed as her hands moved to his chest and began toy with his nipple ring.

“You still really don’t understand how things work around here. I could have been a pony, and if that was to be my lot I would have accepted it because once a pony there is no way out. But, I met the challenge and I am not a pony. You, however, are a pony. That means you are a pony . . . property, and you will be property for the rest of your life. When you are too old to serve as a pony you will be sold at auction to a location that can get some use from you as a slave. Some exceptional ponies get put out to pasture locally, but most are just sold when no longer useful. We don’t keep slaves ourselves, but we don’t mind selling them. I guess I don’t know what happens then. Maybe there is a chance for release from there, but I can assure you that is many many years from now. I doubt you will even remember that miserable excuse for a life you used to have.”

Jacob was frozen between the arousal from her stroking his nipples and the terror her words were drilling through him. It was not that she was telling him anything he did not know. It was not that he expected to be released. It was the callous manner with which she now addressed him. He thought there was something there. He had cared for her. He had cared for her in a very deep way. He had worried and hoped for her when she was making her run for her freedom. He had cheered for her when he didn’t see her in the corral after the hunt. He didn’t think she would really help him. The risks would be profound and he would not even ask it of her. He was just happy to know she was free. But at least he expected that she would show sympathy and understanding for him. He turned his head away from her. He felt his eyes filling with tears. It felt like when Julie had broken up with him.

In this moment he realized that his feelings for Local Girl had been more than just friendship. He would have happily been her pony. He would have happily worn her brand. He could think of nothing he would like more than feeling her weight on his saddle and her thighs against his sides. Right now the absolute joy of her touch would be beyond heaven if it had not come with the daggers of her words.

Local Girl stopped teasing him. She looked up into his face. Jacob hung his head. She patted him on the side of the head and then turned and walked away. Jacob followed her with his eyes. She did not look back. He wanted to run after her. He wanted to beg her to take him with her. He wanted to tell her that he would be her pony, but of course, that was not his choice. He was Michelle’s pony, at least until she went to college, and Jacob had no say in who owned him. He could not watch any more. He turned his head away.

At the end of the day Jacob and Thunder were hitched to the wagon and driven back to the farm. Jacob could tell from the weight of the pull that the wagon was not empty, but what the farmer may have bought, what their load might be, was not something for Jacob to know. He was only a simple pony whose job was to pull the load assigned without question of any kind.

As they headed for home Jacob’s mind wandered. He did not need to think to perform his tasks as a pony. This was his life now. There was really no chance for him to escape, and all his efforts to do so had accomplished, was to make his lot worse. He had been Sally’s pony. He had loved being Sally’s pony. They had performed as a team winning contests and excelling in the hunt. Even though he had not been marked with her brand or named by her he knew, that but for his stupid actions, he would still be with Sally.

Maybe she would have sold him like she did New Pony and Reluctant Pony. He would not have liked that. But she would not have done that. The connection, the synergy between them had been too good. She would not have sold him. He wanted to be back with Sally.

Maybe she would have sent him to Lady Clair. He shivered with the thought. He didn’t think she would. He knew Sally liked his spirit. He did not think anyone came back from Lady Clair with even a spark of spirit left. But if going to Lady Clair for additional ‘training’ would have gotten him back to Sally he would happily . . . well, not happily . . . done it.

Had he not run away he would still be Sally’s instead of the property of a teenager and working on a lowly dairy farm. But, was that really so bad? Michelle wasn’t Sally, but she did have promise. He had actually enjoyed some of the training and work they did together in school. It was kind of fun to be back in school, at least, when he was able to be in class to listen, or to be involved in training. He didn’t enjoy standing in the corral during most of the day. He didn’t like the fact that he and the other stallions were leashed to a pole while the damn mares could just wander around at will. But it was not that bad. Some of the mares were really attractive and he had acquired a grouping that usually hung around him. That made him feel pretty good. He would like to mate with some of them, but that was also something outside his control. Maybe there was a possibility in his future. And, it seemed that there was a possibility that he could go back to Sally when Michelle went to college.

This is stupid. Why was he thinking such things? He wasn’t a pony – was he? He wasn’t so sure anymore. He liked his stall. He was warm and comfortable. He was watered and fed and well cared for. He was washed every day, and although he no longer had arms or hands that he could use either Michelle or Anne saw that he was cleaned and properly cared for. Prior to becoming a pony nobody had really cared for him. Well, he thought Julie had, but at the first sign of something adverse she had been gone. He remembered that she had not even given him a chance to explain. Ok, so he screwed up, but she was just gone. She had deserted him without a word. That was not fair.

Nobody deserted him here if he screwed up. Ok, so he would be punished. But that is what you did when someone screwed up. Punish them and then let them prove themselves. Even Sally really had not given up on him. He had really screwed up when he ran away. He had been punished for that. Anne knew how to do that – he never wanted to go through that again – but he had not been deserted. Why couldn’t Julie have been more like Sally and Anne? He had deserved punishment, not desertion. Maybe that proves she really didn’t love him.