The school stable was buzzing with the moans coming from every stall. The midterm had taken place on a Monday, and Tuesday had been spent with the pill implants. That Wednesday was going to be different from the previous ones: instead of having class, the ponygirls who had passed the examination were to be picked by their owners. According to the rules, the second half of the course was a period of probation. Until Graduation Day, which was scheduled for Sunday 24 of Tulip, they would be tested in real pony work.

Sabel opened her eyes and sighed: every inch of her skin was itching. She rolled herself on the rough woolen blanket and lifted her legs against the wall, trying to insert a finger under the shield that covered her sex, but once again discovered that it was foolproof. She bit her lip, frustrated: there was nothing to do but to wait for Miss Cathy and pray that she did something to soothe her predicament.

Voices from the aisle told her that Charra and Chi Ling were being led to their new homes. What would become of them, Sabel thought. On the evening of the exam, she had noticed that the girls in the her group had been driven by well-dressed ladies, obviously from the First Station, while those on the side walls of the yard had mostly been chosen by men. Suddenly, it dawned on her mind that those girls were going to work as taxi pullers or as delivery animals – Charra and Robin among them.

And Karen? And Kelly? Sabel shuddered at the idea that she could have shared their fate and become a Breeder like her mother. All right, Breeders were important for Auronia, but theirs was a dull life: in the first months of gestation, labor in the farm they had been sent to, and when their bellies grew large, laying idle on their cots until the end of their pregnancy. Brrr!

The sound of the door latch being opened made Sabel turn her head: Chico appeared with a big box of granola. He poured a good portion of it in the bowl and added some milk, glancing at the chain that linked Sabel to the wall.

“You girls have made a hell of a noise this night!”

The ebony writhed towards the stable lad:

“Good morning, Chico! Please tell me, who is in the stalls next to mine?”

“On you left there is another black girl, and on the right that pretty mulatto, Robin”, he replied, sighing at the sight of that perfect body so near him and at the same time so far from his greedy reach. “If you want to speak to them, do so before their owners come. Today all of you will go to your new homes, you know.”

As the lad closed again the bolt, Sabel tapped on the wall:

“Robin! Are you there?”

“Yes – Sabel? Oh God, how are you?”

“As I can be, Robin! I am waiting for Miss Cathy. Did that man come to you?”

“Oh yes, Mr. Stanley! I was in hell until he came – this thing they put on us is the most horrible invention I have seen in all my life! But he finally showed up, and it was so good, Sabel... I really did need a man – I lost count of how many orgasms I had... Oh, sorry, I shouldn’t be saying that to you! Did Miss Cathy…?”

“Sure, Robin! She came too, thank God, or I would have exploded. She was so kind, opened my belt and” – Sabel stopped, ashamed to tell her friend that she had been fucked by a woman. “But now I horny as hell again! I wish you were here...”

Robin sighed distinctly, and a shadow passed over her eyes. Would she ever taste again Sabel’s sweet pussy? Would that sweet tongue ever lap again her juices, as it had done so many times on the kitchen table? Perhaps in the her new life she would find girls as complying as Sabel... or perhaps not... For the time being, she had to rely on Mr. Stanley’s good will – and on his cock. He had said that he would come back in the morning to pick her: she was to work in his delivery company – one of his ponies had given birth and he needed urgently a new one to take her place.

An anguished voice sounded on the other side:

“Sabel? It is me, Desiree! Chico has told me that today we are going to leave this stable. Do you think Miss Charmagne will come soon? I cannot bear this any longer – my skin is all sore from scratching against the wall!”

“She will, Desiree, she will. Suck your fingers, or try to lick your own breast, it might help.”

They didn’t know that, of course, but at that very moment Charmagne was asleep and Cathy was cursing herself. She could have slept in town, but had preferred to take the last ferry and spend the night in her bed. She had overslept, though, and lost the first ferry to Charissa; as the second one was due only at eight o’clock, she had decided to go on her feet, and was jogging around the lake. In her hurry to get out from the house, however, she scratched her arm on the thorns of the maze. A wide streak of blood covered it, but she didn’t mind it; her thoughts were on Sabel – how would she spend the rest of the night?

The blonde Lady knew that the combination of pill and chastity belt was an essential phase in the “conversion process”. Having her pussy locked, the girl could not use her fingers to attain release; the only person who could ease that unbearable tension was her owner. To get rid of the constant excitation, the new filly had to show that she was docile and willing to please him or her in any way she was requested to. Even the most skittish ones eventually discovered that, and if later on a mare proved lazy or aggressive, a few weeks in the belt sufficed to make her mend her ways.

The edge of the town was close now; Cathy breathed deeply and started to jog. The capital was teeming with the new day’s activities: at the taxi stations, the first passengers were hopping on the carts, and delivery ponies, goaded by their drivers' cries of “giddy up!” and occasionally by a snap from their whips, were already pulling their loads. Finally the huge outline of the school building came into view, and the teacher stopped, holding her aching arm. She composed herself and walked briskly into the stables, calling aloud:

“Sabel!”

The ebony heard the familiar voice and went Nadu, her heart pounding. The teacher dismissed the screams of “Please, Miss Cathy, please!” coming from the stalls and pushed the bolt.

“Oh, honey, I overslept! I had to jog all the way from the farm!”

Kneeling in front of her pony, Cathy touched her skin: it was hot, but as silky as ever.

“Morning, Miss Cathy!” Sabel said, taking care to keep her eyes low.

The lemony lotion so near her nose and the warmth of the teacher’s body were a mixed blessing; Sabel wanted to brush her breasts on Miss Cathy’s chest, to lay on her back and offer her love hole to the crop or to that thing she had worn in the dark – but she stayed still, just shivering as the white hands slid along her thighs.

“My pretty girl! You are so full of sex feelings, I can tell!”

Sabel pulled in her breath, making her breasts go up. Her eyes wandered to the bikini bottom just inches away from her. Remembering how sweet the pussy under it tasted, she licked her lips, unaware of what she was doing.

“Yes, Miss Cathy, I am… yesterday it was like hell... And now I am ablaze again...”

Cathy smiled. That was precisely what the pill was expected to cause. She patted Sabel’s wiry hair and said as if she had not pleaded for relief:

“I am so happy with my choice!”

A long, plaintive moan was heard from the left side of the pen.

“Is Miss Charmagne coming to fetch Desiree, Miss Cathy?”

“I think so. But she is a ponygirl now, and has to wait patiently for her owner”, Cathy said, placing her injured arm near Sabel’s face.

“What has happened to you?” the ebony asked worriedly, pushing her lips on the blood patch and licking it from the wound.

“I rushed out past the thorns and got a scratch, that is all. But your licking will help it to heal”, Cathy whispered, and added silently: “such a sweet pony she is – instinctively taking care of her mistress!” She let her arm be licked for some moments and took it away, dangling a pink shell in the form of a heart in front of Sabel’s eyes.

“Kneel up, dear. I have made something for you.”

Sabel focused her eyes and opened a broad grin as she read the inscription: Miss Cathy owns me.

“Oh, it is so beautiful! Did you make it for me?”

“Yes, Sabel”, the Lady said, clipping the shell on the front ring of the girl’s collar and smiling at the nice contrast it made with the deep black of her lap.

A male voice was heard in the aisle:

“Hey, Robin! Stand up! We have lots of loads waiting for you!”

The man moved into Robin’s stall and soon came out, holding her by a leash. Robin had put her hands behind her back and winked at Sabel as she walked past her pen: with her breasts stuck out and her tushie a bit lifted, she was ready to begin her new life as a ponygirl. Sabel repressed a smile: Robin was the most lustful girl she had even met - Mr. Stanley would not have any reason to complain!

Recognizing the teacher, whom he had seen on the evening of the midterm exam, Mr. Stanley stopped and made a few steps back:

“Morning, Madam! Such a healthy mare I have got… have you seen her hunches? Thank you for preparing her so well!”

“You are welcome. And I am certain that she will be better than what you have ever hoped for. Both as a delivery animal and... well, you will discover, if you have not already”, Cathy replied ironically. As the mulatto and her owner walked away, she turned to Sabel:

“This very rare shell belonged to Char, but you won it for me the other day. You fully deserve it, I think.”

Sabel’s eyes grew wide and a wave of heat went though her body. She felt moved by Miss Cathy’s concern for her; in a sudden movement, she approached her face to the Lady’s shoulder and let it rest there.

Cathy smiled: her new pony was getting more and more attached to her. Part of that was due to the pill, but another part – the more important one – came form Sabel’s character. The girl obviously needed someone to love, and her good luck had placed her, Cathy Magnusson, in the position of that “someone”.

Were the circumstances different, the ebony might have become her lover; but thanks to the wise laws of Auronia, she had become her property – and she was going to take full advantage of that. Sabel would pull her around - and would want to do that, would yearn for the bit, for the reins, for the kiss of the crop. And what pleasures she was going to give her! Cathy felt a quiver as the memory of that velvet tongue hungrily lapping he wetness from her labia came back to her mind. That black girl had been born to be a pony: her physique, and even more her natural docility, would be wasted in any other occupation. It was good to be a First Station Lady and have the right to own such a gem!

Cathy moved her knee between the girl’ open thighs and reached to grip the swollen nipples. The ebony jerked as her turgid button brushed on the cold metal of the belt; the Lady slowly turned her fingers and tugged on the upright berries. Sabel thrust her hips forward and began to make circular movements, dragging with her the chain on her collar. Her imploring eyes showed that she was in full heat, but this time the Lady had no intention of finishing her off.

“Lean to me and wash my face with you tongue, Sabel.”

Miss Cathy’s delicate skin tasted salty from the run. “I don’t have to scrub miles of floors today, or tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow”, Sabel thought, while her tongue moved up and down swiftly.

A hand slid down over the ebony’s snugly protected sex, and she jerked as the small dildo began to slide into her pussy. There was a coded mechanism to control it; the teacher smiled at the thought that Sabel would never discover what the code was. It was a part of her new life to surrender control over her sexual pleasures, even after the belt was removed. Perhaps it was a bit unfair, Cathy thought, but every pony had to fully understand that she now belonged to someone else, and that relief depended on her owner’s will, not on hers. Okay, her filly was very docile, but no risks could be taken on that issue.

Cathy looked directly into Sabel’s eyes and jiggled the belt, making the tiny rod vibrate inside her sex and eliciting a loud, plaintive moan.

“We have to go now, honey, and you will pull me”, she said, jumping up and unhooking her collar from the chain that held the ebony to the stable wall. “Put your boots on!”

The girl reached out and quickly laced them on her pretty feet. She stood up and crossed her hands behind her back. The teacher deftly placed the cuffs on her wrists, buckled the straps of her harness and clipped a tiny leash on the ring in front of the red collar.

As she was being led down the aisle, Sabel heard the other ponies moaning behind the locked doors of their stalls, and felt thankful because her mistress had come to take her out of the stable. The small dildo was rubbing her walls, but perhaps a good run could ease her tension...

In the tack room, Cathy chose a large headstall with a bell, front draping chains and a Mohawk plume from front to back, and a pair of small clamps with bells, which she fitted on the protruding nipples. She ticked them cheerfully:

“Mmm, you will look so pretty pulling me like this, my little ebony pony!”

Sabel lifted her head to show how proud she was of her new ornaments and marched with high steps to Catherine’s cart, which was parked nearby. She stood between the shafts and opened her mouth for the bit, feeling her pussy tingle while the teacher clasped the chains to her waistband and caressed her ribcage.

Cathy climbed on the surrey and breathed deeply. There she was, the most desirable pony one could have wished for, an African purebred with the longest legs and the sexiest rump in all Charissa – and she owned her. She felt a twitch in her pussy at the idea that in her old age a daughter of Sabel would be taking her place between the handles - but until that day came, she had at her disposal that round bottom to snap her crop on, those white-soled feet to take her wherever she needed, that perfectly designed neck sporting the collar she had personally locked around it, and a precious shell saying clearly – “Miss Cathy owns me”.

The tip of the crop popped on Sabel’s rump and she headed for the archway. A faint tug made her turn left; the sun was already shining and a soft breeze brought to her nostrils the smell of the many flower trees along the street. Sabel walked briskly. A driver coming from the opposite direction stopped her pony, looked at her and whistled in admiration. Sabel felt flattered and licked her bit: she was pulling such a fine cart, and such a distinguished Lady!

A tug to the right made her go into the wide avenue. Many carts were already there; she felt a bit unsure because of all the noise and traffic, but the crop flicked on her rump and she began to trot. The thin metal under her boots gave a nice click from each step; Sabel leaned forward to feel more comfortable, giving the teacher an excellent vision of her coal-hued back. Cathy reclined on her seat, feeling the breeze and the smells, pleased to see that Sabel was taking care not to make the cart jostle.

Sabel wondered if they were going to the government building whose floors she had scrubbed for more than a year, and bristled with pride at that idea. “In three weeks, I will be a Fifth Station girl”, she thought as she trotted away. “The steel band will be removed from my ankle - it is almost too good to be true!”

The reins tightened barely and Sabel heard, “Whoa!” She slowed down and stopped right in front of the building. Miss Cathy let the reins drape over the rail at the front of the surrey and climbed the steps, leaving her pony to deal with the feelings inside her.

Waiting there under the sun, the only thing the ebony could think of was – “orgasm”. She thumped her feet and contracted the muscles of her pussy on the small dildo, but it was too tiny to bring about the release she craved for. Her nipples hardened and she gnawed on her bit. Memories of Robin licking her mingled in her mind with the taste of her owner’s rosy pussy and with sensations so strong that they seemed real – the crop sliding into her labia, the thick dildo ramming on her walls – she rubbed herself on the rail and then on the shafts, indifferent to the people walking past her.

From the shadow at the entry of the building, Miss Cathy watched the pony’s attempts to ease the fire that consumed her loins and chuckled. It was the first time that she was seeing her ponygirl in full dress – and she looked gorgeous. She shrugged and walked down the hall to the office of the man in charge of the cleaners:

“Mr. Rankin?” she shouted, looking at the name on the door.

A small, bald man appeared.

“Yes, Madam?”

“I have something to slow you. Maybe now you will see what you could not before! Not all scrub girls have to spend their lives on their hands and knees, as perhaps you know. Please come with me.”

Mr. Rankin followed the teacher to the outer stairs, intrigued – and his jaw fell to his throat:

“Oh – is that – SABEL?”

“There she is, your scrub girl, Mr. Rankin. Are you surprised?”

Sabel didn’t particularly like her former boss, and still bore him some grudge because of his acid comment when she had shown him the authorization to enroll in the ponygirl course – “want to be whipped and have a bit between your teeth, eh, Sabel?” Had she been able to, she would have put her tongue out for him. But knowing that Miss Cathy would not approve of that, she just raised her chin as high as she could and looked straight ahead. “Let his comments stick in his throat now”, she thought. “He must be envying Miss Cathy!”

“But… she is stunning! Is she your ponygirl now?” The man’s eyes were literally licking the ebony’s breasts and legs.

“Yes, she’s mine, for as long as I choose.”

“Well, madam, my compliments. She is the most beautiful little thing I have ever seen. Now I must be going”, Mr. Rankin said, and disappeared into she building, wiping his forehead with a large handkerchief. Many times, while she diligently scrubbed the floor of the gent’s restroom, he had stopped to watch the raised butt and the small patch of black skin showing above the waist of her shorts. The girl he had requested to replace Sabel was not likely to be as pretty and desirable as she.

Cathy laughed at the man’s confusion and bounced down the stairs to hop in her surrey. Sabel felt vindicated: how lucky she was to belong to such a considerate Lady! The crop swished in the air near her shoulder and she started trotting again. Cathy stared at the white palms showing over the black bottom of her pony and smiled: people were stopping to admire her and make comments. Sabel’s thoughts went to the previous Friday, when she had marched to the barge behind Miss Cathy - it had been less than a week ago, but seemed so far away! Tiny drops of sweat were forming on her forehead; she shook her head to get rid of them, making the little bells jingle happily together with the ones on her nipples.

“Pop!” A sting on her rump made her jolt and speed up.

“Next stop is the Council”, the Lady said, holding loosely the reins in her hands. Leaning back on the shade of the surrey, she undid the clasp on her vest and enjoyed fully the ride. As they approached the big structure painted in green, she slowed Sabel down and directed her towards the best parking lot. There were other ponies hitched to poles, waiting while the people they belonged to did their business inside the building. Sabel stopped and Cathy climbed down.

“You may put your face in the water to refresh yourself, honey.”

Sabel did so, eyeing the superb girls around her while her mistress walked to the portico. A pretty redhead approached her and began to rub herself on the ebony’s back. Sabel felt her pussy ablaze; she ground her tushie on the other pony’s tummy and sighed distinctly.

“Get away! Shooo!” Miss Cathy’s voice sounded very angry and the crop hit Sabel’s shoulder, provoking a tiny gush of juice from her soppy cunt. She looked amazed at the blonde Lady: what had she done wrong?

“Sabel! Kneel now!”

The ebony obeyed, her face hot because she had been punished in front of other ponies. Miss Cathy, pulled her neck down, hooked a leash to her collar tied it to the wheel of the cart. She was quite upset; she swished her crop again and hit the redhead’s thigh, making her step back in awe.

“Stay away! This is her second day on the pill! Haven’t you seen that she is belted? You know damn well that you oughtn’t to touch her! And the same holds for the rest of you!”

She walked to the kneeling girl and lifted her chin with the tip of the crop:

“You are my property now, Sabel, and only one person can touch you – ME! Don’t forget that again!”

She walked away with hard steps, and before entering the building turned her head to make sure that nobody would tamper with her ponygirl.

For the next hour or so, Sabel stayed with her face on the cold cobbles and her tushie stuck out, not daring to look up. It was the first time she had been whipped, and the shame was harder to bear than the burning spot on her shoulder. Miss Cathy’s voice echoed in her ears: “You are my property now”. Tears came to her eyes: she had so strongly wished to become that white lady’s ponygirl - but now she was aware that this entailed complete obedience, even in such natural a thing as seeking pleasure when she needed it. Was it worth the sacrifice of her liberty?

Then she recalled how kind Miss Cathy could be, how happy she had felt on the day she had earned her collar, and shrugged. Yes, she had done the right thing. In time, she would learn what was allowed and what forbidden. For the moment, her mistress wanted her to stay kneeling and looking down – and she would not raise her head until she came back.

A raucous voice awakened her from her thoughts:

“Look, Saphira! Whose pony is this? Let me see… ah, Cathy Magnusson’s!”

Another voice said:

“Wow! She has such good taste! Look at her legs - she must run like lightning! And why is she tethered to the wheel like that?”

“She is being punished for something, it seems. Still learning – look at her rump, it is not tattooed yet. And what a lovely rump it is!”

Cathy appeared under the portico and smiled, pleased that the Council Ladies would take the time to admire her new property.

“Hi, Cathy! My compliments! I didn’t know you had acquired a ponygirl – she must be new, I see from her belt. Will you train her to race?”

“Oh, I am not sure, really! She is so young, you know” – Cathy said, and added silently: “Just wait till the festival, you will take notice of her!”

Sabel’s heart beat fast as she imagined herself running against other ponies. She had watched the races last year, a wonderful spectacle – but then she didn’t know that she would soon become a ponygirl; she was still expecting to become a secretary after the expiration of her mandatory seven years as a Sixth Station cleaner.

The Lady went on:

“An African princess, that is what you have got, Cathy.”

Sabel heard them walking to their carts and the sound of reins being unhitched from the poles. As the noise of the wheels faded, she saw the tip of the black boots right ahead of her nose. “Do not undo what your owner has done”, she remembered, and kept motionless. Cathy waited to see if the ebony was going to raise her head, but she kept motionless, waiting for instructions. Feeling pleased by her humble stance, the blonde Lady loosened the leash and clicked her tongue twice – would the filly remember that sign?

Sabel took impulsion and rose up. Without a word, the Lady sat behind her and flicked the reins:

“To the pharmacy! And don’t make me punish you again!”

While Sabel trotted, wiggling her hips, Cathy looked at her watch. She had asked Shaka to tell her sister to meet her at the pharmacy at nine o’clock; by now, Charmagne would already have taken the barge and gone to the school stable to fetch Desiree. She was happy that Char had accepted her advice and chosen such a fine ponygirl. Her heart would soften when she discovered what she had in her hands – the Haitian had beaten Sabel twice, and that was no mean thing. Char needed someone or something to care about, she thought, feeling her anger fade away in the sunshine and among the sweet blossom smells. It was good to be able to ride for a while, letting her pony pull her though the busy Agatha Christie Drive.

Sabel slowed down, looking for the pharmacy – Miss Cathy was wounded, she recalled. When she saw the sign, she stopped and waited. Cathy jumped out and let her palm circle the ebony’s round rump, making her squirm:

“Thank you, my pony! You have already come to be so good!”

Sabel gnawed on her bit. The lust in her was becoming intolerable, but with her hands tied and the belt between her legs there was not much she could do to cool it off. And now she knew what happened if she tried... Perhaps if Miss Cathy led her to the open and allowed her to run a few miles, that infernal heat would fade away. But her owner didn’t seem inclined to that. Sable narrowed her eyes as the blonde Lady disappeared into the pharmacy: she was a ponygirl now, and had “to wait patiently for her owner”, Miss Cathy had said in the stall.

The pharmacist did his job and the Lady re-emerged from his shop with a leaf bandage on her arm.

“Do you know what, my Sabel? I have told Char how fast Desiree is, and that is all it took for her to pick her up. She wants her shells back! I left a message for her saying that I’d wait for her here. We will trot along together to the park, where we can have something to eat.”

Sabel nodded. She was feeling hungry – all she had had that morning was a bowl of milk and granola. She heard the sound of a cart being parked behind her and Char’s clear voice:

“Good morning, Cathy! Nice to see you! I am afraid I am a bit late - had to pick my pony at the school, you know. By the way, your Sabel looks splendid!”

“Yes, the pill is putting her in a constant and very sexy tush push. But your pony seems agitated! Haven’t you…?

Sabel burned to turn her head and have a look at Desiree, but she didn’t want to get slapped again, and was spared the vision of he Haitian’s face contorted in a mask of lust. Her skin was hot as if she had a fever, and showed small scratches on the spots she had rubbed more vigorously on the walls of her stall in a vain attempt to appease the sensations that consumed her. She was thumping her feet and brushing her sides against the shafts of the cart; her nipples were the size of plums, her lips half open, and her wide nostrils flared with every breath. Cathy smiled and pulled her sister by the arm, speaking lowly so as not to be heard by the ponies:

“You must find time to give her pleasure from your own hands, Char, so that she gets attached to you. Tease her to the brink of orgasm, open her belt and let her have a few orgasms on your crop. This is what must be done, you know perfectly well.”

“I know, Cathy, but I want her as horny and she can be, so that I have a chance to win back my shells. That Shig thing is still on my heart.”

“You have to got over Shig losing to Sabel, and think about your new ponygirl!” Cathy’s voice sounded a bit rough. She was not inclined to pity Desiree – a few hours of unquenched lust would not bring damage to such a healthy animal – but she did want her sister to have an obedient pony, and the way to ensure that was to condition her to expect satisfaction from her owner.

Char nodded.

“I will… but first let’s have a small race. You will not refuse this to me, will you?”

Cathy left her sister’s arm and walked back to Sabel, who was grinding her hips on the body of the cart.

“You shells are very safe with me, except one.”

Char raised her eyebrows interrogatively – and saw the inscription on Sabel’s lap: “Miss Cathy owns me”. She bit her lip, but said nothing; walking to Desiree, she touched her rump and ran her hands over the wide haunches, chuckling at the squirming sounds from her pony.

“I shouldn’t forgive you for using this shell, but it looks so pretty on your mare that I will”, Char said, kissing Desiree’s forehead. “She will make a fine pony, Cathy. Thanks for having called my attention to her. I just want to try her – last Monday we had no occasion, and it looks like she needs to run.”

Char ran her crop along the Haitian’s ribcage. Desiree bit hard into the bar in her mouth: she would give anything to have more of those caresses – the white Lady looked so adamant, though – what should she do to call her attention? She wanted her to run -all right, she would run and show her new owner what she was capable of.

“OK, my sweet sister”, Cathy exclaimed. “Three hundred yards, not more! If you win, I’ll let you have back two of your shells.”

They bounced into their surreys and swatted gently the ponies’ rumps. Desiree was so eager to be relieved that she repeatedly tried to gallop, and Charmagne had to hold on the reins to keep her trotting at Sabel’s side.

“Desiree, if you win this race, I’ll open your belt. If you don’t…” she said, indifferent as to whether her sister was hearing or not.

The Haitian sped up again and felt a hearty pull on her bit.

“Slow down, girl! You will run on the track, not here!”

The park was not far and in ten minutes they reached it. Sabel felt a pang on her stomach: she had jogged so often there, free to choose how much and how fast - and now she was tied to a cart, with that devil’s invention between her legs. The small dildo was sending waves from the inside of her cunt, but not strong enough to bring about a discharge. She glanced at the young people jogging on the edge of the trail and sighed – was she ever going to join them again?

Cathy noticed that her mare was distracted and swatted lightly her rump. She didn’t really care who was going to win the race; it was just wonderful to have her pretty ebony pulling her for the whole day. Along the edge of the park ran a straight, two-mile long trail to train ponies, at the end of which a nice restaurant with chairs and tables had recently opened.

Char positioned her cart at the beginning of the trail. Cathy did the same with her surrey, wondering if Sabel was ready to race after having been worked in real traffic. She checked the girl’s feet and ankles, as well as the straps of her harness.

“Are you sore anywhere, honey?”

Sabel squealed at the touches and shook her head, leaving out a loud sigh when Cathy leaned down and unscrewed the small dildo from inside her pussy. The Lady cupped her breasts, thinking that perhaps it was time to grace them with permanent bells, and took her place on the seat.

“At the next sound of a hawk’s call!” she exclaimed, grabbing the reins.

Both ponies were ready, waiting for the sign with their muscles tense and their bodies slightly inclined forward. Suddenly a screech was heard. Sabel jumped forward, but Desiree wanted so much to get rid of the constant itching on her pussy that she started off even quicker and in seconds opened a cart’s distance from her opponent.

Cathy slapped firmly Sabel’s right buttock; the ebony rushed to catch up with the other pony, closing half of the interval between them.

“Hiaah! Go, Sabel, GO!”

Sabel sprinted as fast as she could, but it was clear that she was not going to win. Desiree’s motivation was stronger, and the energy she had accumulated in a whole day with the pill in her was making her gallop as she had never done before. Her feet barely touched the gravel path; her hips wiggled as if ten whips were stinging them, and her bushy mane waved over her shoulders. She opened again some distance from Sabel and arrived first at the tree marking the end of the trail; her speed was such that she dragged the cart for another hundred yards before bringing it to a halt.

Sabel’s heart thumped as she slowed down. She was sad because she had lost, but also glad because Desiree was going to be relieved as a reward for her victory. “She has impressed Miss Charmagne”, Sabel thought. “The Lady will surely reward her – and she really needs it!”

Cathy let her pony walk with flexing legs for a while and pulled the reins. She was not angry; both mares had Haitian had run splendidly, but the Haitian had been faster, that was all. She smiled at Char:

“Can we eat now, dear? You have had your race.”

Sabel felt a tug on her bit and turned around to face the other cart. Desiree was covered in sweat and her generous bosom was heaving up and down as she breathed deeply to recover her breath.

“Of course. Let’s go there”, Cathy agreed.

They parked their ponies at the poles. Desiree was so horny that she made a movement to approach Sabel, but the chain from her collar was too short and didn’t allow her to. Sabel guessed that her friend wanted to grind herself on her body, but remembered the scene at the Council parking lot and stepped back, making a negative sign with her head. Hopefully, Desiree would understand it!

“The day is so nice, Char! Why don’t we bring our mares to have some food too? They have earned some leisure time, I’d say.”

Char nodded. Sabel and Desiree stood still as the Ladies unhitched them from the carts, removed the bits and untied their hands, and walked obediently behind them. The long table was stacked with good-smelling fruit and rows of luscious vegetables, visibly from the Magnusson farm.

“Squat down, dears!” the teacher commanded.

The two leaned on their naked heels and Sabel whispered:

“Don’t try to grind yourself on me, Desiree! A pony did that a short while ago and Miss Cathy punished me.”

Desiree was going to ask why, but the sisters were walking back to the table, with two full fronds of fruit o their hands. Char peeled a pear and bit into it:

“I have to say, Cathy: these ebonies are outstanding. I am imagining them as a team, pulling us in the double cart, like the two Chinese ponies of the Battersons. You know how I love to ride on it”, Char said, running a finger on her pony’s wet forehead and scratching gently under the band that encircled it.

Cathy leaned down and kissed Sabel’s lips, pushing a part of the big peach she was eating inside the ponygirl’s mouth. Desiree licked a piece of pear from Char’s hand, squirming at the caress. She was stunned to see Miss Cathy getting so intimate with Sabel - would her owner ever kiss her like that?

Char finished her pear, approached her sister and kissed her cheek. Cathy had seldom seem the severe Char so meek – was it because now she had someone to care for? She said nothing, though, and just hugged her. They ate calmly, enjoying the nice view of the trees and of the joggers,

“It was in this park that I first saw Sabel”, she said after a while, patting the ebony’s head and placing a piece of apple on her knee. The girl caught it with her mouth, letting it stay for a moment on the blonde lady’s skin. Her nostrils flared at the combined scents of the lemon lotion and of the leather that covered her mistress’ pussy. Cathy feigned not to notice the eager look and absent-mindedly caressed behind her filly lovely ears.

“Well, I think I will take my pony to the farm”, Char said, rising up to throw the remains of her meal into the waste bin.

Cathy nodded.

“It is high time, dear, if you want her to get attached to you. And don’t forget to teach her to greet you properly.”

Char tugged on Desiree’s leash to make her stand up, pulled her to the cart and deftly attached the chains from the shafts to the rings on her waistband. Running her hands over the curves of her dark body, she whispered softly: “Let’s go, dear – Miss Charmagne will take care of you.”

She sat on the seat and tossed the whip under her feet.

“Desiree does not need this.”

“No, she does not”, Cathy said, as the Haitian had set off in a brisk pace. “Up, Sabel – I have a lot of things to do before lunchtime.”

The Nubian let herself be hitched to the cart and sighed. She was where she wanted to be, a new life was beginning... A pop on her rump made her jerk. There was much work to do for Miss Cathy... Sabel lifted her chin, took impulse and trotted out of the park.