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Adult Content Warning - this story contains adult themes, including non-consensual bondage/slavery and forced sexual acts. If you are under the lawful age for such materials (18 in most jurisdictions) or if you would find such material offensive, please go elsewhere.
Safety Warning. This story may contain descriptions of practices that are decidedly unsafe, either in general, or if performed by someone without adequate training. There are a number of good books available on safety in the BDSM scene. Most large cities, and some not so large ones, have organized BDSM groups that will usually welcome a newcomer. I'm not going to point out which practices are safe, and which aren't. Any practice is unsafe if performed by someone with inadequate training and experience, or if performed when not paying attention. Please think before you act. Don't make yourself a candidate for a Darwin award.
There are seven stories in this series, which takes a young lady named Sally from her first attempts to scratch an itch she isn't able to ignore to becoming a full time career ponygirl, subject to the desires of her legal owner.
1. Trainee Ponygirl
2. Stable Discipline
3. Weekend Ponygirl
4. Show Ponygirl
5. Resident Ponygirl
6. Indentured Ponygirl
7. Academic Ponygirl
Now on to the story...
“So how did your date go?” Martin asked his daughter as she limped into their front room, managing quite handily on her crutches.
“Beautifully!” Mandy answered, rather obviously glowing from the after date kiss she’d shared with Jason only minutes before.
“You got around the park OK?”
“That was fun! They gave me a chariot and a ponygirl. They told me her name was Flying Hooves. I drove her around with a little joystick. When we left, I held up a sweet, and she took it right out of my hand and then nuzzled me.”
“I take it you liked it.”
“She was better than a silly old go-cart! I think I want her for my graduation present!” Mandy leaned over to kiss her father on the cheek before swinging out of the room on her crutches, splinted leg held stiff in front of her.
Martin looked after his daughter thoughtfully. She was awfully dominant, especially for a girl. Maybe having an indentured pet would be good for her at that. What was the ’girl’s name? Flying Hooves? He made a mental note to look into it.
Flying Hooves sat in her stall in a classical V posture, hindquarters on rear hooves and braced on her front hooves, tail splayed out behind her. It was hardly a standard position for a ponygirl, but what the heck. It put her at the right angle for the laser display to write the screen into her eyes.
She stared at the budget projection for the next year, and sighed. It hadn’t changed a whit since the first time she had run it, just after coming back from being laid off. The very generous severance package, plus her savings, meant that she could afford to sit in her stall and sulk for a year without working at the adult amusement park. If she factored in a realistic work schedule at the park, it stretched to a year and a half. Then she’d be on the ropes financially.
The stable would advance her a couple of month’s fees, but she’d have to sign a contingency indenture to get the advance, and if she couldn’t pay, she’d be on the block.
What really drove her predicament home to her was that it was Monday morning, and she’d been laid off Friday afternoon. She’d worked the weekend at the amusement park, and one of her favorite patrons had driven her around the random obstacle course for an hour. She thought Mandy was cute; the girl always ended one of their sessions by offering her a treat, which she delicately lifted from Mandy’s palm between tongue and teeth. It was such a sweet thing to do. She briefly wondered what it would be like to be owned by Mandy, and giggled. She knew nothing about her, and was hardly in a position to find out anything more.
One of the problems was that there didn’t seem to be a whole lot of opportunities out there for an independent ponygirl. She’d found a few agents, most of whom seemed to be somewhere between
Martin looked over the folder he’d accumulated on Flying Hooves. He’d started with a simple
They’d responded that she was a free agent, but she had recently inquired about indenturing herself to the park. They suggested talking to the stable; they considered it a bit on the sharp side if they accepted her indenture and then turned right around and sold her to a third party.
He had to agree. He’d done similar things, but all in all he
The stable repeated that she was a free agent, but they thought she might be considering becoming indentured. If she did, they would be happy to broker a deal, although there was a special circumstance he should be aware of if they decided to proceed. If the deal went through they would, of course, be more than happy to continue stabling her if he so chose, and were looking forward to discussing any special training needs he might have with his new acquisition.
He nodded thoughtfully and turned to the next entry. It seemed she had a side deal with someone to show her at various ponygirl shows. She seemed to do quite well at the competitions, considering that they didn’t have all that much time for training. That might be all to the good. Mandy had a definite public streak that was oriented toward presenting things she had done, rather than simply basking in the limelight for being herself.
He thought for a minute, and then prepared a response for the stable.
Martin smiled at his daughter as she came into his study. “You wanted to see me, dad?”
“Yes. You did quite well on the Kiss Pray materials I gave you.”
She made a face. “Talk about dry! I suppose it was good training for reading the fine print.”
He nodded. “That course is definitely a bit stiff for a high school senior! It’s the background course we give new associates.”
“They have my sympathy.”
He laughed. “They’re the ones that decided to become lawyers. I expected you to do well on it, but if you had decided it was beyond you, the consumer course would have been adequate.”
She giggled. “I cheated. I took one look at your course, then I took the consumer course! When I came back to yours, it actually made some sense.”
“That’s my daughter! Don’t complain, just do what you have to. Now you know what you can and can’t do. Do you know the context?”
“Context?” she wrinkled her brow in puzzlement.
“Historical background.” He sat back as if starting a lecture. “One of the things about law is that it always needs to be interpreted in the context of how it came to be that way. If you neglect that, you start getting really strange and
“Well, we kind of slid over that piece of history in class,” she said hesitantly.
“So, what do you know?”
She looked at the ceiling for a couple of minutes, obviously marshaling her thoughts. “There seem to be several threads. One is how the security shields came to be invented, another was the plagues, and then there’s the religious angle.”
“Very good! There’s also the reformation of the prison system, but that’s clearly later.”
“As I understand it, the shields started with someone discovering how to create nerve pathways that connected computer chips with brain areas?”
“Basically. So how did that work out?”
“Well, it started as kind of an underground project, and then moved into some real heavy kink areas. From there it moved out into some areas of the criminal underworld. Eventually, it became widespread enough that they had to regulate it.”
“That’s a good start,” he said. “I think I’d add that the early versions were into control; the current shield configuration came about after the academics and civil liberties people got their hands in. What about the plagues?”
“It was the last, bioengineered plague that did it. The previous plagues were natural, and reduced the population from around 7 billion to around 2 billion. The last one took out half the men, and reduced half the women to gibbering idiots.”
“I hope you can do better than that!”
“Daddy, they really didn’t cover it!”
“Modern schools.” He looked at the ceiling for solace. “Well, it did kill about half the male population over a five year period. When it hit a woman, though, she didn’t become a gibbering idiot! She generally became quite affectionate and submissive, though. What was really bad was the victim acted like she’d invented being scatterbrained.”
“Huh?”
“They’d generally do anything you told them, but if you told them to do this, and then that, they’d forget that while doing this. And if you interrupted them, forget it. Since a lot of intelligence is about sequences, they certainly acted stupid.
“It overstressed society’s ability to care for them. One group solved the problem their way by wiring them up so they could be minimally useful and not take excess resources caring for them. They started out with roboticized household servants for the more intelligent ones, and pets for the more affectionate and less intelligent ones. The ponygirls evolved from a number of attempts to turn them into draft animals, combined with input from some of the kink groups.”
“I suppose,” she said thoughtfully, “they had to do something with them.”
“Exactly. The next few years saw a very spirited debate about the morality of the control shields. The modern shields came out of that debate, as did the protective associations and the KSPRA. That’s history, though. All of that was settled around forty years ago; you’ve grown up with it, and I was too young to understand when things finally settled down.
“The other factors were population control and the prison system. We decided that we didn’t want the population to go over one and a half billion ever again, so we put in a real draconian population control system. Our society runs it as a lottery, but the winning ratios are heavily biased toward intelligent and effective women, and the religious cults got in there so that any woman who wins the lottery can have as many children as she wants.
“Only about a third of our women will ever have children, and the vast majority of them will make a career of being a housewife and mother. Then they’ll pick up a career. Since they’re basically the top of the intelligence curve, the rest of the women can’t really compete with the men for the top positions. And you also have a four to one female to male ratio for what’s left.”
“So they decide that an indenture is the better career choice.”
“Quite true. It’s at the point where it’s part of the cultural background: Scatterbrain takes out a large number of teenagers between sixteen and eighteen, and the lower quality women among the survivors generally accept an indenture some time in their late teens. It gives us a steady supply of ponygirls and household servants.
“Which brings us to Flying Hooves. Any time you talk averages, there are quite a few people that don’t fit. She’s one of them. She just likes being controlled. It’s a major psychological quirk. She seems to be intelligent enough and effective enough that she would have won some children in the lottery if she’d wanted to latch onto a husband and form a stable relationship. She found this first.” He shrugged.
“It should be a good match. You’re very controlling, she likes to be controlled. That leaves one real major question, though. Have you thought of what you’re going to do with a ponygirl?”
“Besides driving her around when the whim strikes? Not really. But I have been looking into stabling arrangements. We’re not that far from the stable she’s currently at.”
“So you’re thinking of keeping her there?”
“She’s got a car, she can drive back and forth when I want her.”
Martin shook his head. “I don’t want her changing here. Even though Kiss Pray mandates that indentured servants get time off to do whatever they want, it’s better for all concerned if everyone stays in role when they’re around each other.”
“Oh. You’re saying I’d need to bring her back and forth myself.” Her brow furrowed slightly. “I suppose there are ponygirl trailers?” she asked a bit doubtfully.
“There are, but that still begs the question of what you’re going to do with her. From what I’ve found, ponygirls are best kept busy, or they’ll either get bored or depressed. Or in Flying Hooves’ case, possibly cause trouble.”
“Oh?”
“She’s too intelligent. If she ever gets over that quirk, she’ll want to buy herself out. I’d suggest you let her; it’ll save a lot of trouble for everyone.”
“I’ll have to think some more about that.”
“Well, you might not have to think too hard,” her father said. “She doesn’t just work at the amusement park. She’s also a show pony, and she’s pretty good at it. With the right trainer, she might be even better.”
Mandy’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Do you have any videos? This could be more fun than I thought.”
“It could at that. One other thing I dug out. She’s somewhat of an expert at programming her own control shield. Do you remember the case law on that?”
“I can’t interfere with it?”
“Basically. It means that you don’t have complete control unless she lets you. What do you think you need to do about it?”
“I’m really should learn what I can and can’t do with one. Starting with mine.” Her eyes strayed downwards for a moment.
“I think that’s a real good idea, daughter, but there was something else I had in mind.”
Her brow furrowed. “Oh. I might have to ask her permission to do something?” She clearly didn’t like the idea.
“If you get into a battle of wills, it might come to her protective agency having to arbitrate. You really don’t want that.”
“I can see that. You’re telling me she isn’t a good idea?”
“On the contrary, I think she may be ideal for you. The fact is that you don’t need a ponygirl, and if you go the housewife and mother route with a husband that’s in the upper income brackets, your ponygirl should have a more standard
“I don’t understand.”
“You like to control people, and it’s gotten you into trouble a few times. Well, more than a few. You need to have someone that will set limits and defend them so you learn how to negotiate rather than running over people. Flying Hooves could provide you with that experience.”
“That will be an experience, all right. I think I see. You’re saying that using her as a
“Right. Now, what about when you head for college?”
“I already checked. The university has its own ponygirl stable, with the standard automation and service package that all the big stables use. I need to dig further into exactly what that means, though.”
“Good. Digging always helps.”
“And I need to check on ponygirl shows close by where I can enter her into competitions. This whole show thing is new.” She paused. “Are we done?”
“I think we’re done.”
“I can’t think of anything else,” she told him and then leaned over and threw her arms around him. “Oh, Daddy. I’m so excited! My own ponygirl!”
“Well, we’ll see,” he smiled as his daughter strode out of the study and then suddenly stopped and poked her head back in. “Thanks!”
Flying Hooves trotted back into her stall after the morning exercise session on one of the automatic exercisers. She checked her schedule while she ate some ponygirl mush. The screen in her mind showed her two offers: one in the evening from the amusement park for a special party, and one during the day for the grounds crew. She promptly accepted both offers. Then she saw there was a message waiting.
Messages were rare. There was one every few days for something or other. This one was from the stable business office. She accessed it, wondering what they wanted. She hadn’t heard anything about fee changes on the grapevine.
It turned out someone had asked about purchasing her indenture. She snorted and then continued. They’d explained she wasn’t indentured, and he explained he knew that, but also knew she was considering taking that step.
She looked at it for a while. Seeing the offer right there in her face was entirely different from academically considering it. If she indentured with someone, it would be a step into the unknown. She felt a
Her first owner. She rolled the idea around in her mind, and then giggled. It wasn’t like it was completely blind, after all. There were supposed to be well established protocols for insuring a reasonable, even if not perfect, fit between owner and indenture. The one thing she knew was that both the law and her protective association wouldn’t put up with her being flighty. If she told them to go ahead with the negotiation, then she was committed. She couldn’t turn it down unless it was obviously a bad fit.
She looked at it again, and then turned to her finances. They weren’t as bad as she’d thought they would be; the amusement park really did like her and wanted her to stay around until they had an open slot for another indenture, so they were giving her enough work to stay even and still have the time to be taken out and shown a couple of times a month.
On the other hand, they weren’t all that good. Her savings weren’t going down, but they weren’t going up, and she certainly wasn’t going to earn the $10,000 for her retirement account.
She took a deep breath and sent a message back cautiously expressing interest.
“So, how did it go?” Martin asked his daughter when she got home that night.
“Interesting,” she said. “I never imagined they could make ponygirls do so many things. Flying Hooves won the parallel park.”
“They tried to parallel park ponygirls?” Martin said, surprised enough that his cup stopped rising for a moment. “That must have been a sight.”
“Oh, it was. Watching a four footed ponygirl trying to turn a two wheel chariot while going backwards was a trip and a half. Their legs kept getting tangled; it really brought it home that their leg to torso length is all wrong. Especially since they had them done up with checkreins and blinders so the poor dears couldn’t turn their heads to see how they were doing.”
“How did they do?”
“Flying Hooves got an 9.0, I think the next best was a 6. The chariot wheels had to be exactly two inches from the curb, the shafts had to be exactly parallel to the curb, and the ponygirl had to end up with her hooves exactly square without adjusting at the end. She simply flowed in, like it was the easiest thing in the world.”
“That’s amazing!”
“Well, I asked Janey, that’s her trainer, how she did it, especially since she seems to have done it the first time she showed up. She said it was a real complicated set of programs in both their control shields, and that Flying Hooves had done most of the programming.”
“So you could do as well with her?”
“Well, maybe. She said there were nerve connections that had to be grown, and there was lots of practice. I can believe that! The way Janey looked one direction while the rest of her body was facing front and keeping the reins rock steady was spooky!”
“So do you know what you’re going to do with her while you’re not working her?”
“That turned out to be easier than I thought. The college runs a ponygirl taxi service and also uses them for grounds and maintenance. They’ll put the student’s ponygirls to work if you want. It cuts down costs and keeps the ’girls occupied.
“Janey told me something else about Flying Hooves, though. She’d turned herself into a housework robot, and also did something so her car’s computer was using her to drive the car rather than her doing it herself.”
“So you’re thinking about using her to clean your apartment?”
“That and maid service at parties. I want to keep her as a ponygirl most of the time, though, since that’s what the indenture is going to say.”
“Good point. I’ll see about putting some language into the indenture since we haven’t finalized it yet.”
Flying Hooves trotted into the changing room under the control of the computer, and went directly to her locker. She looked at it with some trepidation. It was indenture signing time, and her first sight of her new owner. Talk about butterflies in the stomach. It was, however, way too late to back out. Her locker door slid open, and she inspected the outfits. There was really only one outfit that went with the rest of her getup.
Normally a ponygirl came from the groomer to the locker completely nude. She left her tack behind in the groomer, and dressed here. There were exceptions, though, and this was one. She was wearing her tail, her pony boots, and a special set of arm sheathes that went from her wrists to her shoulders.
The selected outfit was a light brown, short skirted tunic with short sleeves that nevertheless covered her upper arms and thighs so that there was no skin visible. The color matched her red hair sufficiently to fool the eye into believing she had a coat of horsehair covering her entire body.
She added a silver belt and then stretched, watching the hem of the short tunic ride up her thighs. She definitely liked the total effect. She definitely liked the total effect, and it was startling enough to get the relationship off to a good start.
Well, she was as ready as she was ever going to be. She closed the locker with a thought, and then felt the computer start its commands. She grinned as her body responded to the unseen prompting and strode down a corridor, and then turned into a part of the complex she had never seen, her booted hooves thudding along the floor. It sent her into a pleasant little room where there were four people sitting in comfortable chairs, together with a small table that had what looked like paperwork. What surprised her was that she recognized three of them.
Mira, of course, had been the first person she had seen here at the stable, and had been her contact after each of the early sessions. She hadn’t seen her since she had gone full time, though.
Stan was her client manager at the Excelsior Protective Agency, and had been doing most of the negotiations on her behalf.
The other man she didn’t recognize, but his resemblance to the young woman, well, teenager, sitting next to him was so strong he had to be her father. He had the unmistakable stamp of someone that counted. Definitely some level of mover and shaker, and clearly able to afford buying a ponygirl for his daughter.
She certainly recognized Mandy. Mandy had shown up a number of times since that first day when she’d been the chariot ponygirl for the teenager with the broken leg, and then had eaten a candy out of the young woman’s hand at the end.
“I take it,” she said, speaking directly to Mandy as she sat on her heels in front of the surprised teenager, “that I’m your birthday present?”
“Uh, graduation,” the flustered girl said. Then she recovered swiftly and reached into her bag. She held out a sweet to the ponygirl, who took it delicately from her hand with her tongue and teeth, and then nuzzled her.
“There don’t seem to be any last minute objections,” Stan said dryly. “We still need the indenture signed and witnessed though, as well as the brokerage fee and then we need to do a little
He passed the paperwork to Flying Hooves. She neatly hooked a pen out of Mandy’s purse and signed it, and then handed it to her new owner. Mandy signed it, and then her father signed it, validating his daughter’s signature. Then Stan witnessed it for Excelsior, and Myra pulled out a notary seal and stamped it.
Flying Hooves giggled as Stan knelt next to the two of them and rolled a red and a green cable out of a small device. She spread her legs and hiked up her tunic skirt so he could insert the red cable into the computer socket in her control shield. Mandy looked at her strangely, and then blushed prettily as she lifted her skirt for the green cable. The two women watched as Stan checked some things against the indenture form, and then pressed the execute button.
Flying Hooves snorted lightly as she saw the new domain roll in and install itself with owner’s
Mandy smiled happily as she gently scratched her ponygirl under the jawbone and watched as the programming device inserted the ’girl’s
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