She awakened with a start.

“Damn, these are nice!” exclaimed Horace, as the boys came back out of the cobbler shop.  They had been there over an hour.

“I just couldn’t see them out of balance like that.  Here, Prancer, have I got a surprise for you!”

He was holding a pair of boots. Boots with hooves. Like Chickey’s!  No! No!

“I know you’re eager,” said Sean, smiling, “but we have to go back home first."

“And your friend has surprise, too!   That’s why we can’t put them on you now.  You’ll see! Be patient, girl.”

Things did not auger well…for both of them.

Barreling home, her rested state was cancelled by her anxiety.  What now?

~~~~~~~~

The pony cart passed through the front gate of the Hawkins Plantation at full speed, the house niggers glancing their way as they then slowed as they passed the big white, columned mansion.  One can only wonder what went through their minds, seeing two beautiful heavily trussed black girls running in tandem, pulling two white boys in cart.  But the out-of-the-way trip past the front yard was certainly not for their benefit – Sean yelled towards the house, “Father, see how beautiful they are!”

Mr. Hawkins, coming to the door, gleamed with pride. “They sure are, boy!”

“Got the boots, Father!”

“Oh my!  What a team they’ll make! Too bad it’s only one last season for our pony.  Go on!”  He waved them off, and the cart picked up speed again, and headed toward the barn, Father looking on with satisfaction.

Of course, Cassie was befuddled.  One last season?  What did THAT mean?  Am I finally going to be relieved of this hardship? Maybe they’ll breed me. This is a surprise!  What’s going on?

Rain clouds were forming as they trotted into the stable barn.  Cassie couldn’t help but glance at the bin where she had spent those two utterly miserable days, after the incident.

As Sean and Horace brought out the hooves, Cassie began to wonder how they would be hooked together, as her nose-rod and Chickey’s bit were not level with each other.  Only her hooves made them even, and if Cassie wore hooves, too, well, they’d be uneven.

Of course, the boys had already thought of that!  Unbeknownst to Cassie, Chickey had been nose-pierced once, too, but the hole had mostly grown over.  She never even noticed it.  Certainly the fact that the hole was almost grow over would not stop the boys from running a rod through her nose, which they commenced to do, after disconnecting Cassie’s rod from Chickey’s bridle.

Cassie was shocked to see them run a special tool, which looked like an auger, through the hole, to widened it up in preparation for her rod.  It was to be expected that Chickey would rear back, but she was bound, and had to accept her fate.  She began to scream through her bit as the auger hit home and was pulled in and out with total callousness.  The boys merely stuffed her mouth with a rag, apparently ignoring the fact that she had allowed her tail stick to drop.  Horace merely picked it up and placed in on a table, wordlessly.

Of course, there was blood, but they bound the wound with another rag, and left the two of them standing there, tethered to a stable post.  Chickey was miserable, and Cassie, hooked to her by her corset, was quite upset, feeling her misery.

Cassie assumed they would be there until they figured her bleeding stopped.  She wished they had the charity to undo their bindings and her pear bit while they waited.  But that was beyond them even thinking about.  She just wished she could bring her head down a bit – so hard to doze with her head erect like that.  Then again, she was certainly better off then Chickey with her wound.

The injured girl was quietly sobbing, tears running down her cheeks.  Poor Chickey…  After a while, though, she was silent, and the two of them stood, leaning on one another, attempting to doze.

~~~~~~~~

 It was two hours later when the boys returned, bringing a thin metal golden-colored rod with threaded ends, about three feet in length.  After watering the ponies, they proceeded to fit Cassie with her new hooves.  The boots were fairly tight, and difficult to get on, but, once in place, they kept Cassie’s feet in an upright position, walking on her toes.  Like Chickey’s, they sported horseshoes, and her upturned heels stuck through the boots.  Chickey’s heels had been pierced, and tassels had been attached, since they were no longer required for trotting.

How wilI I be able to run on my toes like this?  And the boots are so tight!  Well, Chickey does it…  More misery.

The boys proceeded to clean Chickey’s wound with alcohol (certainly smarted!), and then lined up the girls and ran the long rod through each of their noses, threading wide-headed nuts with washers through each end to prevent the rod from dislodging.  This arrangement forced the ponies to keep their erect heads pulled away from each other and in position, for if they didn’t, the rod would slip though their noses and cause great discomfort, especially now to Chickey, with her nose so irritated.  The end of the rod stuck our six inches from either side, where the reins were attached.  So now only two reins were required, not four – made for easier handling.  Chickey’s old mouth bit was retained to keep her silent.

“Why didn’t we think of this before!?” Horace said, self-satisfied.

“Yeah!  Great idea!  Don’t they look fancy?”

“Was nice in town there, everybody, looking, gaping!”

“Felt good, eh?” said Sean padding his buddy in the back.

The two pony girls just stood there, suffering.

“Did you see Mrs. Brady?  Boy, does she hate Prancer!”

“She’ll hate her more after she wins the competitions.”

“Well, we’d better get them out there and practice, or she’ll never win.”

“It’s going to be one last great season!”

That got Cassie wondering again, thinking.  What’s going on? She concluded it could only be good news that she would no longer have to prance.  No other slaves had it this rough.  It’s not as if she got any recognition for all this misery.  I’m just another animal to be exploited, that's all they think of me as.  And I can spend more time with Papa!

Being led out of the stables, Cassie vowed not to move her head any more than necessary, for Chickey’s sake.  Any extra puling on her part would cause her much pain.  That nose of hers must be killing her! 

The new hooves were not that bad – even though she was on her toes, the boots were constructed in such a way as to allow some leaning of the rest of her foot on the back of the boot.  That only occurred when she bore down on her toes – so the pain in her toes relieved the pain in her arches.  It is a little trick she soon learned.  Alternate pain was far better than constant pain!

One of the advantages (if one could say that) of the addition of new pain was that it made Cassie less aware of old pain.  The body is very forgiving.  So while her corset was tight, and she had become used to it, her cruelly forced-up arms, forced-back head, and forced-in biting bit, while painful, were less so after the application of the new hooves.  And the nose rod - well, considering Chickey’s plight, she unconsciously relegated it to the least of her troubles.

Trotting to the door, she could hear the rain pounding on the roof of the stable.

“That’ll make them stronger,” said one of the boys, listening.

“Wait – didn’t we forget something?”  Sean said, stopping, and returning to where they just were.  

Running back with the tail stick in his hand, “Mustn’t forget this!” a smile on his face.  Putting some grease on the end, he roughly rammed the stick up Chickey’s rear end.  “That grease’ll make it harder to keep in, pony.  A little punishment for dropping it.  Here’s a little reminder not to do that again, nigger.” 

More humiliation...

With that, he whipped her on the back with the riding quirt - hard.  It took Chickey all her strength and concentration, amidst the pain from her nose and anus, to keep that tail stick in.

“There we are.  Now, let’s go riding!”

The heavens were pouring rain, light, but steady, as they emerged from the stables.  Between the mud and the new hooves, Cassie immediately began having a hard time of it.  Her concentration on this, it was quite difficult to pay attention to her head, and Chickey’s own misery – thus, she did not fare too well, either, her nose flaming with pain.

“Gettiup!” yelled Sean, whipping the reins.  Both ponies were in much anguish, but, nevertheless, they strained against their bonds to pull the cart into the rain, the effort made even harder by the mud that was beginning to form.  Not only did they slip in the mud, but the cartwheels slipped as well and, because of this, lashes came raining down from the cruel Master, as well as the raindrops of the storm. 

High on their toes, the two miserable pony girls pulled and strained and struggled, and slipped and slipped and, finally, they both fell into mud, caring not what happened to them. They were going nowhere. Do what you want. They were finished.

Normally, such behavior would have brought severe punishment, but even the boys realized the futility of attempting to proceed.  Even they knew that there was nothing more they could wring from the slaves.

“Let’s give them some time.”  That meant they would be left alone, mostly unfettered for a while.

“Get up, ponies!  You’re going to rest!”  Such welcome words.

After they arose, with difficulty, the boys let the rain wash off the mud from their bodies and harnesses for a few minutes. Then they led them back into the stable, totally unfettered them to nudity (of course, taking the opportunity to touch them in all their intimate places), with the exception of Cassie’s new boots.  (“Got to let her get used to those.”)  They allowed them to put on cotton shifts, and placed them in a bin with clean hay and water, and some passable food:  some turnips, dried meat and grain.  Then they put locked slave collars about their necks and tied them with a long chain to a ceiling beam, locking the end onto their collars.

CHAPTER SIX AND SEVEN