Rachel fought the urge to struggle or resist as her naked body was harnessed and bridled. She could hear her friend Melissa a few stalls down, sobbing as her body, too, was restrained in leather tack.

It had all gone so wrong so quickly. The two graduate students had decided months ago to become members of a secret Luddite community as research for their joint Master's thesis in Sociology, little realizing what they were getting themselves into.

They had loaded their suitcases back into the car the previous morning and driven to the gates of the isolated community, where they had been stopped by two men with pitchforks. It was obvious that these people had been bothered enough by outsiders, and didn't want any more trouble.

After a few hours of grilling by the male elders, the two women were judged to be sincere, and allowed inside the gates on foot. Their luggage, they were told, they could get later. They were met by several women in plain dresses, who chatted with them amicably and took them to one of their homes.

"Would ye go to the bedroom and undress so we can fit thee with the appropriate clothing?"

As the two women closed the bedroom door, they exchanged looks of triumph-- They were in!-- and started undressing.

"How are we going to take notes without them noticing?" asked Melissa, unclasping her bra and shrugging it off.

"I don't know. We'll just have to play it by ear," said Rachel, stepping out of her panties. "And that goes for our exit strategy, as well."

"As long as they don't force us into arranged marriages," joked Melissa. "I'm not too keen on having a litter of babies with some icky old fart." She stood there, hands instinctively covering her exposed crotch and nipples. Rachel, less self-conscious. stood there with her hands on her hips, legs apart. "I think we can stall them long enough to keep that from happening."

The minutes ticked by. "Where the hell are--?"

The door crashed open and several men burst into the room and tackled the naked women, throwing them face-down onto the bed. As the two struggled and screamed, they were forcibly muzzled, their forearms strapped into leather sleeves behind their backs, and their ankles hobbled with thick cuffs. The terrified, squealing women were then yanked to their feet and marched out of the room.

They were forced to walk naked and bound through the dusty dirt roads of the town, whimpering with fear and goaded by swats on their bare asses with a riding crop. All around them, people went about their daily business as if nothing unusual was happening. Nobody paid them any heed.

They came to a stable and were taken inside. As they stumbled along, the two saw with increasing alarm that some of the stalls were inhabited by women. Naked women. In harnesses and bridles.

Melissa was shoved into one stall, and Rachel into another further down. Leather straps hanging from the sides of the stalls were clipped to rings on their muzzles, holding the women in place.

Rachel found that she was trembling uncontrollably, and that sweat was running down her cold body. She heard a muffled cry that sounded like her name, followed by two sharp cracks and a blood-curdling scream. Melissa! Poor Melissa was becoming hysterical, and was being whipped, which only made things worse. If only she could tell her to remain calm, that they would get out of this somehow, but that was impossible. She didn't want to admit it, but they were really fucked now. If this was how things were starting out, there was no telling what was in store for them after this. Suddenly, arranged marriages didn't seem so bad.

She could hear Melissa blubbering away and wished she could be there to comfort her. They had been friends all through college, and now they were unable to even help each other in this time of crisis. Would they ever share happy moments again?

The blonde fidgeted, feeling the limitations of the restraints. Escape seemed next to impossible and, as she thought about it, rescue from the outside was equally unlikely. Their time period for research was left open-ended, so it could be years before anybody realized that something was amiss by their absence.

Years. The young graduate student began to realize the severity of the situation, which wasn't helped by the fact that other women seemed to be held prisoner, too. Who were these women, and how did they get trapped in this diabolical community?

She looked at the naked captive across from her, a full-figured girl whose large breasts bobbed and swayed with every movement of her body. Her eyes had the dull unfocused look of someone who was resigned to her situation, and she wore only a pony harness and bridle, along with knee-high boots that appeared to have horseshoes on their soles.

What she and Melissa had taken to be a puritanical cult was, she now knew, a sexual fantasy taken to its logical extension. They were now ponygirls who would be trained and worked like animals. She was not unfamiliar with such fantasies, and wondered how far they were going to take it. Would they be shaved and branded and forced to pull carts? And how would they ever weather the public humiliation should they ever escape? If only she could turn the clock back twenty-four hours!

Rachel realized she had to pee. Bad. She had been dancing around for the past few minutes. but now it was unbearable. The floor was covered in straw, anyway, and no one seemed to be around. She arched her pelvis forward and let loose.

She left a large puddle in the straw in front of her that stank terribly, and her pussy hair was dripping wet, but it felt good to finally let go. She might be punished, but what else could she do?

Her relief turned to horror when she turned her attention back to the buxom woman across from her. As if taking a cue from Rachel, she had crouched as far down as her restraints allowed and was shitting. The disgusted grad student saw the huge turds dropping to the floor and turned away, but not before she noticed the expressionless look on the woman's face. How long, she wondered, did it take for a person to reach a point where they didn't care anymore?

The stable was largely silent now, as the men had left. Rachel stood there, waiting. What now? The heat was becoming oppressive and making her drowsy. Flies buzzed around and crawled on her skin, irritating her. Boredom replaced fear, breaking down her will to resist with each passing moment.

She struggled against her restraints, attempting to free her arms from the sleeve or yank one of the straps from the walls, but it took only a few minutes for her to realize the futility of her efforts. Tears streamed from her eyes, and she let them flow, welcoming the cathartic release.

Hours later, when she was nearly delirious from the heat and boredom, they returned, removing her muzzle and replacing it with a feedbag. "What are you doing--?" was all she managed before the bag was strapped onto her face. It contained some kind of modified horse feed, which she ate out of sheer hunger.

Night fell, and she was made to lie on the floor, in the corner, where she was hooded and chained to the wall by the hood's collar. Was it really only that morning that they had left their motel room to drive to this community?

In the morning, she was fed from the feedbag again, then harnessed and bridled. She was led out of her stall by reins clipped to her bit rings, where she was joined by the sobbing Melissa. Rachel saw the cart waiting outside and her heart sank. Her worst fears were being realized.

They were hitched up to the cart as a team and forced to pull it down country lanes, past quaint cottages where the occasional person would wave a greeting and smile at the helpless, harnessed, humiliated ponygirls struggling to navigate the rough dirt roads. They had started out wearing their shoes, but these had gotten lost along the way. Their backs and legs were soon striped with red welts as the rider made liberal use of his horsewhip, pushing them beyond the limits of their endurance.

This became their daily routine. The only change was when a new girl, sobbing or protesting, was occasionally brought in and imprisoned.

When the stable was full, the girls were auctioned off among the jeering, boisterous villagers, paraded naked before them like so much cattle. Rachel and Melissa were separated.

Rachel and another girl were bought by an elderly couple and housed in a drafty little barn. The former grad student was hoping for a chance to escape, but the old man was strong, and very careful about keeping them restrained. The two girls were yoked together, and put to work plowing the fields, a grueling ordeal which left them exhausted and sore at the end of each day. Luckily, Sunday was a day of rest, which gave them a chance to recover. Unfortunately, it was not long after that that the farmer decided he wanted a bigger return on his investment.

The next Saturday, Rachel and the other ponygirl were strapped facedown over slanted benches, their asses sticking up higher than their heads and their feet spread wide.

Rachel didn't want to believe what she knew was coming, but at the sound of pony hooves, she turned her head and saw a ponyboy with a stiff quivering cock being led into the room. She screamed and fought, but to no avail. The ponyboy was positioned behind her, and was able to enter her almost immediately despite the girl's thrashing about. He pounded away, grunting as he viciously violated her. When he finished, he got hard again and fucked the other girl, who at least found pleasure in his brutality.

They were inseminated every Saturday until they got pregnant.The other girl was the first to show, but Rachel knew that she, too, was with child. Despite this, they were still forced to work the fields.

On Fridays, they went into town, their swelling bodies laboring under the twin burdens of pregnancy and the heavy cart. On one of these trips, Rachel spotted Melissa, and was shocked at what she saw.

The other girl's owner had also wanted a bigger return on his investment, and had been hand-milking Melissa's tits. She now had a massive set of udders with big brown nipples that hung halfway down her chest and swayed pendulously as she pulled her cart. Had Rachel not been numbed by her own experiences, she would have collapsed and burst into tears at her friend's plight. Melissa, who was wearing blinders, did not see her pregnant friend.

Rachel and the other ponygirl were tied to a hitching post. Standing there naked and harnessed and pregnant, the former grad student envied the women who walked by, envied their freedom and their clothes and the privacy of their bodies, and she wondered if she would ever know anything like that ever again.

Three years later, a male Psychology student was able to infiltrate the community. He noted the unique feature of having women replacing real horses, even to the point where they were stabled, fed, worked, and otherwise treated as if they were of the equine species. Their lives, while not easy, was tolerable, and this particular lifestyle was readily accepted by the many women who lived this animalistic existence.

Particularly noteworthy was a blonde who was pregnant with her fourth "foal" and a brunette who could produce a quart of milk a day from her massive swollen breasts. His descriptions of the blonde being impregnated and the brunette being milked became instant classics in the field of aberrant psychology and, though the identities of the two grad students were recognized by some, it was just assumed that they had abandoned their careers to become willing participants in the community.