The Story of S - II

by DWC
- do not use without the author's permission.


One day all things changed for me, again. My Master had left me at the Château, and in my silence there I stood, head lowered, eyes down cast, looking most very discreetly around this new environment I was in. I thought of why that I was here and what would happen to me here, just what it will be like at this Château, now that this Mistress has me; her new ‘Pony Girl, ‘S’; that’s my name, just S, a proud, spunky, and very well trained, a permanent Pony Girl. I wanted to tell my story, thus far anyway, I need to, and that others may know me and understand. My Master said that I could, so this is more of my story...

I thought of my life again—as I do often now that I am a permanent Pony Girl and a kept female play-thing. It is a decision that I did not make in haste, I’ll tell you; I loved pony play at the very first and it only got better for me, more intense and more into it as time got on. First it started on weekends and then for a week and then two weeks in captivity fully into bondage and then pony play and in captive control. I could not get enough of it. I day-dreamed at work of the next time in bondage and gear and harnessed and being controlled so and I loved to get into my submissive space. I even did it to myself at home, most nights. I slept in bondage many nights to see just how it could be to be so controlled and helpless.

I was on my own at an early age; I left home at sixteen and made my way since. Parents died in a car crash. I left my aunt shortly after that. I worked and took home study and finished my GED. I had a few low paying menial dead end jobs, so I went to dancing to make money. A lot of girls did that; you can make out very well, save up if you were good at it, and then, get out of it and move on.

Little did I know that my soon to be Master and Mistress owned the very place I danced at, and that is where it all started for me. It was a nice upstanding club that catered to the more well-to-do clientele. After awhile I quit dancing there when I landed a very good job at a law firm. But when I lost it to out-sourcing later on, I returned to that club and asked them for a slot or if they had a job for me at their ranch. They had a position open there, it was a small ranch as they go, but with some acreage no less. There—they operated a fetish retreat and appointed their large home. That is where I played in bondage and pony play when I worked at their club before. I went there on the weekends and some weekdays for that. I worked for them for a year at the ranch, I played too; I became a major player, and really got into it all and all the people that came there. I was eighteen at that time. At twenty I was quite committed to it as a part of my life. I loved the out of doors and acting this all out, ‘Getting into my pony space.’ I loved it all. So—I was taken in as a full time female in their stables and in captive bondage and never to return to the normal life. At first it was so exciting but later—after two months in captivity I missed the outside world. So they decided to let me free to make my way as I would; make up my mind. I had a difficult time then, no home, no job, nothing but the money I had saved up to see me through. I traveled through the countryside and city, stayed in hotels and inns, hostels. But as time passed I missed the ranch and pony play. I missed the way that I felt being captive and controlled in gear and all. So--I returned one evening to the ranch in a cab. I got out, stripped naked at the gate for all to see me, placed my arms behind me and just stood there until they came forward to take me in. I hoped they would, and they did gladly.

After a few weeks, they had me fully in control again and I accepted it as ‘my life’. The excitement was delicious, and one day there came a sale. As now I had no choice in the matter, and accepted my role, I was taken to a stable arena with a few other females and a few males.

I was sold, sold to an older couple that very day. That couple took very, very good care of me, loved me thoroughly. They were also into life change alteration of the body. Master was a surgeon and very rich; in money as with knowledge and into the Equestrian fetish life style as well, but for real. For years they perfected the changes and had done a few alterations on females and males. And when they told me of the plans they wished for me, and if I wished it, no forcing it; they would grant my wish to forever change my body into what I so loved and imagined in my recurring dreams and my sometimes hidden thoughts.

I took some time and really thought about it all. “Can I really be altered?” I just couldn’t imagine that this could done, and for me: a human pony creature, different than everyone. Special, unique, but never to go back as a normal female, a person, or as society knows them to be. They kept me in pony tack and boots with hooves and leggings and mouth bits, spoon bits, tail and all the gear that goes with it all totally for six months. I was to be in the role 24/7 and become used to being this way. All this, to ready me, let me decide thoroughly as to this live permanent commitment.

So one day as Mistress was washing me and putting on my harness and straps she said that this day I would be ringed. I accepted it and it was done; a ring in my nose and piece my nipples and my sex with rings to start with. She wanted me to have them; she could just do that to me for now—for I was theirs at that time fully and committed thus far; donning the chains and cuffs, the metal rings and pony-hooves, and all the locks and bonds and gear they placed on me that a Pony Girl is fitted with, but always asked me first. She would tease me too, by bringing out the needles and the little rings and swabs on a metal tray with her latex gloves on several occasions. I wished that she would have done that to me then; the first time. She said that they could be removed if they so chose to. And then, when the third time the tray was presented me, that very occasion, it was done to me; I was permanently pierced.

I wasn’t scared; I thought of the pain though. But all turned out well in her care. I loved them; their weight and their look on me and the knowing that I could not take them off. I needed something permanent on me. I liked showing them off and it turned me so very much, very much on. I looked sexy, alluring, different. As the weeks passed, I was kept in more of a controlled situation and environment as a Pony Girl by the Masters of me and their son. I pulled a sulky cart, one rider at a time. I showed off for their friends and at showing cotillions. They showed me off and played with me. I always wore the pony-boots with hooves and leggings with them at that time, though these legs or hooves were removable then of course. But I wanted more; to be really different and wanted to be kept so fully, totally. I could not get enough of this. They loved me—that I knew; they cared for me totally and kept me in bondage always in some manner or another. They tempered me; molded me. I was not kept in a straw covered stall as some offer and keep their fillies, both my Masters, before at the ranch and here, keep their charges in posh stables; leather and wood and tile and very clean. And they tempted me to no end to undergo the alteration into a Female Pony Creature showing me photos and drawings and art work and one other girl. Master knew it would work well with me. He was a very good surgeon and had the technology to do it Mistress said. He had made a fortune in plastic surgery and modifications.

Both he and she; my Masters and one other man did my surgery. I was not the first, I had a few sisters somewhere, I saw one only once. My God she was pretty and out of this world; I needed to be just like her. Mistress said that perhaps I could see her again in the future some day.

But, one day it was just too much; the wanting the change to be done to me, and I said yes,; one of the few times that I spoke, I signed the papers and they video taped my consent as well. I was then taken into their clinic for a time and shown again photos of Pony Girls that had been so altered by their skills. I was put to sleep one day and when I awoke and after the bandages were removed days later; all was just fine. I was healing very well and within a month I could walk again very well, even prance around. They worked with me constantly. My legs looked the same, my ankles the same, but my feet now pointed downward like standing on my toes, a ballerina, or as if in a tall pair of heels that makes one's feet appear bent like but no feet; they turn into hooves below the heels or a bit higher. And my ankles were such as not to bend as far as they did, so my ankles would hold this pony stance well, yet I could with some practicing bend them to kneel down to the ground or floor. My muscles began to be stronger from working them as much as I did. I could walk or prance, even run well.

To this day my calf muscles are much defined; all my leg muscles are defined.

I now was a Pony Girl, I had pointed fairy like ears, not too tall; just two-inches more, and real pony hooves, and strong ankles that supported me and all looked very correct. I had been given a real tail also; electrolysis was completed to areas of the groin, and my hair was completed and they gave me very long lashes, permanently implanted, and well, there I was; a really life Female Pony Creature, with piercing rings and hooves and a stunning auburn mane starting with a widows peak into the fan on top and into my long flowing mane down my back. My tail even worked some too; moved it about if I tightened or flexed my butt and tail bone, I had to learn its control and practice this. It was a hoot. My hair had been long to begin with and with a few extensions added in for a while until it grew out more, well—I was a sight to behold.

I could not get enough of my image in the mirrors. I spent hours just looking at myself. I was ecstatic. Master and Mistress took very good care of me and when their son took charge of me and wished to care for me as his own; I was given to him and in his care, that was three years ago to the day I was walked into the hallway of the Château.

I have never regretted my change, or owned being by my Parent Masters; as I call them. They put into an interest bearing account they managed, the sum of fifty thousand dollars for my old age cushy along with my savings that I earned. They felt that I earned it as well. If I was ever alone in the world, not owned or something happened, the money was mine.

I just have to keep with a Master or Mistresses favor that wants me, to see me through my years to come. So far, Master Jonathon; their son, I’d hoped was that Master to be. I so hoped for that, or my Parent Masters to be the ones. I so hoped that as well. “But now a new Mistress, why then?” I could not understand this. Was there a clause in the contract that could or would return me to them? Somehow Master Jonathon seemed not to be out of my life for good; from that kiss and look he gave me when he left me at the Château. I wish he fully told me though. But mine is to do as I am directed to do, go where I am guided. I am free to romp around on the grounds when let out. Free to do just be in my chamber stall. I read and listed to music and dance around and I can freely write in my diary that you now read from. I also am bound and restrained much of my time too, in various pose or plight. And I love that too; it is all part of the life of a kept, controlled Pony Girl, this one anyway and Masters and Mistresses require it and enjoy their fillies this way.

“Come on now S, move yourself.” He said and guided, and I felt a swat to my behind just then. He tensioned the leash on my nipples pulling them way out—I move along as I should. I was lost in thoughts.

Now in front of me, there stood a sulky and harnessing and seated within the cart was Mistress. Quickly I was harnessed to the rig. He had run the reins through my bit and on down to my nipple rings for total control of me as well as my bit spoon and had placed bickers and a full head harness on me and gave the reins into my Mistress hands. A toss of the reins and two words; Up—Up! And we were off out of the stable building, over its wooden floor and down and out on the path and then through the woods and on to the meadow beyond. At first I walked, then she gave a toss and a “Haw” and I felt the command and started to prance a bit faster and then to a nice gait and into a trot. Most of the force of the reins were on my bit harness that took the commands of the rider but still felt to my nipples some, rising them, moving them about. She also had a coopers strap lead clipped to my hood ring of my sex for added enjoyment; rather torment, on my part, it did the trick; stimulating me very much, so was its weight dangling my rings there. It was wonderful to be outside again like this and free to show off my skills and make her proud and make me prouder at being a Pony Girl. The only thing was, that he forgot to change my shoes to metal ones. I still wore the hard rubber ones. They could wear out soon and be damage, but think that she maybe aware of that and have new ones for me. They screw on. She does seem to have money for that for sure from all I see here.

God my body felt good and there, the air is clean and the sun--woe. I sweated and the sun's warmth on my skin was delicious and my scent was all around me, I huff and puff and whinny and moan, she liked that I knew—I did too. We stop, I had to pee. It feels good and a freedom just to let it go on the road way when one wishes and no one cares; they expect it to happen really. As for the other—well—that I do in my stall chamber toilet. But I have had to go a few times when out, and just tell my passenger by slowing down and then stopping and squatting a bit, give some gesture or bend my legs in two fast squats to indicate that I must potty or when all else fails, if they don’t understand me, I just tell them. I have to. So they pull over to the side of the road or path and I have to squat down and go in the brush. Then, they have to care for me, I am wiped clean with wet-ones and toweled. They are taken on long trips; as it can happen to us all. It takes a very good Master or Mistress to endure all that, it takes time for all this and there are some that could not do this. I spot them and do my very best not to potty. I have become used to it though. It does not happen often though; I make sure, I go before the day starts. Enemas too are a very necessary part of my care and required most days of my life now.


To be continued...