This happened in July, nearly two years ago. I was driving through Pennsylvania when, as luck would have it, I got lost. It was an extremely rural section, with lots of rolling hills and trees, and only the occasional farm along the two-lane road. I'd have to stop to check the map to see where I was. Since I had to take a leak, too, I decided to kill two birds with one stone.

I walked into a dense line of trees to relieve myself. It was only because of the setting sun penetrating the foliage that I saw it-- an old Conestoga wagon pulled by a team of nine naked ponygirls. It was just a brief glimpse. I blinked, not sure if I had really seen what I had seen or if my imagination was working overtime due to fatigue from the long hours of driving. With a full bladder to empty, there was no way I could run after them for a better look. By the time I finished, they had already disappeared back into the trees, yet I thought I could still hear the sound of pounding hoofs and wagon wheels on hard earth. Could there really be a ponygirl ranch out here in the middle of nowhere? I had written a number of ponygirl stories over the years, yet this would be the first time I had actually experienced the real thing.

Whose farm was this, I thought, and why hadn't I heard about it on Sir Jeff's website or through my contacts in the ponygirl world?

I drove on slowly as night fell, finally discovering what I believed to be the entrance. It was a narrow dirt road, nearly hidden by undergrowth. I hesitated. Could I just go in there uninvited, introduce myself, and ask to be shown around? Hell, it was worth the risk, I thought. How often does someone get an opportunity like this, anyway?

I headed down the dirt path, not really sure what to expect. After about a quarter-mile, I was stopped by an iron gate with prominent NO TRESPASSING signs posted on the front. As I sat there, wondering what to do, an old pick-up with its headlights off came out of nowhere and pulled up behind me. Good, I thought, I can introduce myself. I opened the car door.

"Stay right there where we can see you," said a menacing voice. Two men with shotguns strolled up, one on each side of my car.

"This is private property," said one as he approached me. "What are you doing here?" He had an air of menacing authority. I decided to try my luck, anyway.

"I saw your ponygirls through the trees, and was wondering if I could see what kind of operation you have here."

"You didn't see nothin'. Who are you, anyway?"

"Are you familiar with the website Sir Jeff's Ponygirls?"

"Never heard of it," he said, though his body language said otherwise. "Why, are you Sir Jeff?"

"No. I write under the name Sogo. One of my stories should be appearing on the website tomorrow." I named the story and described briefly what it was about.

The man seemed to consider this for a moment, then turned to his companion and nodded toward the truck. The second man stepped into the passenger side and talked on a cell phone for a moment. He seemed to listen closely to what the person on the other end was saying, then nodded and stepped out again.

"We hold 'im until we can verify what he told us."

The first man remained expressionless. "Follow us. Don't do anything stupid."

As he unlocked the gates, I got back in my car, the sweat beginning to chill my body. What had I gotten myself into?

The truck pulled around and the first man got in, and I followed their taillights into the blackness. We went a short distance until we came to a small cabin. The first man got out.

"This is where you'll be staying for the night." He waited as I shut off my car, retrieved my luggage, and entered the cabin.

I turned on the light. The one-room dwelling was sparsely-furnished, but was clean and homey. I only hoped that Sir Jeff didn't experience any computer or server problems. I lay on the bed and read a thriller novel until I started getting sleepy. A short cough from outside confirmed my suspicions that they were keeping a close watch on me.

It was shortly after dawn when the door abruptly opened, jolting me awake. I squinted at the two men framed by the morning sun.

"Okay, Sogo, we'll give you the tour, but only if you promise not to tell anyone."

I agreed, and they blindfolded me before leading me into their truck. After a long, winding, bumpy ride, we stopped, and my blindfold was removed.

"Put this on." It was a leather master's hood, undoubtedly meant to protect my identity. I slid it over my head and stepped out of the truck.

Before me was a long stable, hidden deep within the dense forest. They unlocked the door and ushered me in. Inside was any pony master's wildest fantasy-- each stall had been divided in two for a total of three dozen stalls, and every one was occupied. Several men were busy at work harnessing and feeding the naked, imprisoned women.

"Our prisons are full," said my one guide, "so we decided to relieve some of the overcrowding by bringing a few of the habitual troublemakers here. We've got prostitutes, drug abusers, thieves, illegal aliens, and the occasional college girl who maybe has a few too many run-ins with the law. It's much cheaper to keep them here, and we're able to instill a sense of discipline here that we can't maintain in a normal prison setting."

I nodded. It wasn't much different than a prison work farm. Despite the tense atmosphere, I could feel myself getting hard. Though many had the hardened looks of criminals on their faces and more than a few were only average or below-average as far as looks went, they all had toned bodies, evidently from long, hard days of pony training and lean, nutritious meals.

"Care to go for a little trip through the woods?"

"I'd love to."

"Fine. They should be ready in an hour or two."

Gradually, the ponygirls were led out to a corral, where they were limbered up with light exercises while their stomachs digested their breakfast. Aside from their pony tack, they wore only white seamless sports bras with their prison numbers stencilled in black along the top of each cup. As I watched, I recognized one or two faces, possibly from shows like Inside Edition or 20/20. One was a fugitive from the law, and the other might have been an out-of-control college coed who had simply vanished one night after some wild partying, though I said nothing to my hosts.

After a while, nine were chosen and led individually to the Conestoga wagon, which was housed in a small barn. They were hitched up, and blinders were attached to their bridles. I got in the front seat with the driver, marveling at the array of muscled backs imprisoned in their leather harnesses before me. With a crack of the whip, the ponygirls dug their hoof boots into the hard earth, their nearly-naked bodies straining until we had gained some momentum.

We quickly entered the woods, going down a well-worn path that wound its way through the scenic greenery. It was quite a treat seeing all these ponygirls working in unison, and I must admit that I spent more time looking at them than at the lush background. My only regret was that I couldn't see them from the front and absorb the full beauty of their bridled faces and bouncing brassiered boobies.

The ride, though it probably took thirty or forty minutes, ended much too soon. I watched with interest as the girls trotted in place as each was released into the corral and given a small bottle of Gatorade with a straw to drink from. Each bottle was in a small plastic holder that hooked to the front of the bridle, so the ponygirl could drink at her leisure.

As they rested, the rest of the ponies were hitched up and made to go for a run through the woods. I wanted to go on each ride, but didn't want to press my luck. Also, I wanted to experience as much of the farm as possible before I had to leave.

That afternoon, they were trained in various forms of dressage in the corral. Most of the ponygirls were hitched to posts around the perimeter as individual girls were put through their paces. After watching for awhile, I was allowed the privilege of working with my own ponygirl.

She was a young woman who looked like she was a veteran of the streets and-- as I found out rather quickly-- somewhat feisty. It took several good swats with the riding crop before she realized she couldn't get away with anything. Her eyes burned with hatred toward me, but I didn't care. There was nothing she could do about it.

They complimented me on my firm training technique as my ponygirl glowered at me from behind her bridle.

"You gave me one of the newer ones who wasn't fully broken in, didn't you?" I said.

The other trainers laughed. "Just a little test," said one.

"You have any openings for a trainer?"

"Sorry. We have all that we need."

As consolation, they let me wash down my ponygirl and dress her in her bra and panties for the night before leading her to her stall, something I took much more pleasure in than she did.

Night was falling when we left the stable, and the trainers delivered their ultimatum.

"You're leaving tonight. Once you leave this property, you will forget this place even existed. You will not write about this place, and you will not mention it to anyone. Is that clear?"

"Yes, I understand," I said.

I was blindfolded again and led back to my cabin, where I was made to wait until well after midnight before I was escorted back to an identifiable road.

I have since tried to find this place again, but have been unable to. Does anybody out there know of it or, at least, has heard of it?