Brianna watched the small town of Hog's Hollow disappear down the highway as she stared out the back of the horse trailer and, with it, her future.

She was naked and strapped in securely-- so securely that she could barely move. Thick strips of leather led from her harness and bridle to numerous rings set in the floor, sides, roof, and front of the small trailer. The rear door only came up halfway and, since she was facing rearward, her entire upper body was exposed to anyone traveling behind, which was humiliating enough without the pony gear. Her immobility, along with the wide leather blinders that flanked her head, made it impossible for her to see anything else.

They hit a bump, and her braless B-cup titties bounced in response. The fact that the cool early-morning air made her nipples hard didn't help matters any.

The eighteen-year-old blonde's mind went back to the day before, when she was competing in the Corn Queen beauty pageant at the state fair. There had been thirty young girls from around the state, all of them sexy, poised, and charismatic, making it a hotly-contested battle for the coveted crown.

Brianna had been nervous the whole time, but hid it well throughout the grueling judging of the evening gown competition, the swimsuit competition, the talent competition, and the speech competition. Though the crowd cheered louder for some of the other contestants, she had won with a score of 98, only two points shy of perfect. She had never been prouder in her life. Had she known what it would lead to, though, she wouldn't have even entered.

Before leaving the stage, they were all given a glass of Big Earl's Premium Apple Cider, which they all drank together. It was in the dressing room ten minutes later that the knockout drug began to take effect.

The beauty queen watched in horror as, suddenly, half-dressed girls began collapsing to the floor. She didn't even have time to reach her cell phone to call for help before she, too, blacked out.

It was the sharp smell of horse manure that first brought her around. That and the chill night air on her naked skin.

She was lying on the floor in a horse stall, stripped of all clothing and wearing only a leather harness and bridle and high-heeled pony boots; leather pony hooves trapped her hands, transforming them into equine feet. The front of her stall was barricaded by a gate with metal bars. Her muffled cries of shock and horror through her rubber bit were soon joined by a chorus of others as the rest of the girls awoke.

The young girl was able to struggle to her feet despite the ankle hobble on her pony boots and the wrist cuffs pinning her arms to the back of her harness. The girl in the stall across from her began to panic, bawling uncontrollably as she rolled around on the floor, fighting to free herself from her restrictive gear.

A whip cracked the air. "QUIET, BITCHES!" barked a gruff male voice. "Any continued outburst will be met with severe punishment!"

The crying and wailing died down to a soft sobbing-- except for the girl across from Brianna, who only redoubled her screams and frantic attempts at escape. Two men immediately entered her stall and zapped her with a stun gun. The beauty queen watched in shock as the girl convulsed and then went limp on the floor.

As the men left the stall, they saw Brianna standing there, and smiled. "Look," said one, "this one's got to her feet already."

A rough-looking man in his fifties, standing six-foot-eight, appeared, tipped back his Stetson, and grinned at the naked and bound beauty queen. "Well, well," said Big Earl, apple juice millionaire and sponsor of the state fair, "looks like this li'l filly's raring to go. We should hitch her up and give her a test run."

The terrified girl backed up as the three men laughed, her mind unwilling to come to grips with what the millionaire had just said. They weren't really going to treat them like horses, were they?

She got her answer about an hour later. One by one, the frightened girls were reined and dragged outside. The fair had closed for the night, and they were led whimpering past the darkened concession stands and silent carnival rides until they reached the convention hall, where they were dragged onto the same stage where they had competed for Corn Queen earlier that evening.

Their feet were chained to cinder blocks lined up on the stage, so they couldn't run away. Past the bright stagelights, Brianna could see a small crowd of men seated in the darkened arena, and got a hard feeling in the pit of her stomach.

What happened next she wished she could rip permanently from her memory. She was the first one to be brought forward, naked and bound, as if she were some prize-winning livestock.

"Our first item is Tawny, this year's Corn Queen. She is healthy, athletic, and subservient. She is also smart, so she should be able to understand orders and carry them out, but be careful - she may have a mind of her own and might need to be broken in a little. We'll start the bidding at five thousand."

Brianna's eyes blurred from the tears of humiliation and from the hot, blinding lights. She barely registered the fact that they had changed her name and were auctioning her off. She didn't even remember what she sold for, only that the next red-eyed and trembling girl was being brought forward as she was taken back to her stall.

She slept fitfully that night on the dry, itchy straw in her cold stall. Dawn had not yet appeared when they came for her.

Her stiff, aching body was led into the horse trailer and strapped in, but not before she was given an energy drink and made to pee on the bare ground in front of the strange men who were now apparently her owners. To someone who had not even worn low-cut clothing and had often been teased by her classmates for wearing full-coverage bras and girdles, such invasions of her privacy were worse than any physical punishments they could have subjected her to.

And now, as the sun rose high in the sky, she knew that her family and friends were gone forever, as were any hope she had of a singing or acting career. The captive girl knew that they had probably engineered this behind her back, as both her father and boyfriend had tried to dissuade her from a career in entertainment, telling her she should stay nearby and raise a family instead. Brianna thought she had won them over after winning the local singing contest . . .

They began to encounter traffic, and the young girl closed her eyes to avoid seeing the grinning faces of the motorists behind her and the cell phones stuck out the window to capture photos and video of her bondage. Her face reddened and tears splashed from her eyes at the thought of her humiliation being transmitted throughout the world within minutes.

Horns honked and drivers yelled in an attempt to get her attention, but Brianna wouldn't take the bait. She refused to be a willing participant in her own degradation.

The eighteen-wheelers, she soon found, were the worst. They were so high they could look down and see her bare crotch, too, and they made no secret of the fact that they liked what they saw. She tried to scream at them, but what muffled sounds she could make under the thick bit were lost in the wind.

After a couple hours, they suddenly exited. Thank God, thought Brianna, at least I don't have to give a show for everybody on the highway.

But they were merely pulling into a rest stop. She saw the familiar McDonald's arches and a parking lot half-filled with cars, and knew that her ordeal was about to enter a new level. Her whole body began to tremble as they entered the drive-thru.

The first driver to pull up behind them was a woman. Thank God, she thought, here is somebody who can help me. The beauty queen thrashed around and cried out, pleading with the woman with her eyes.

The woman leaned out her window, a smile on her face. "I'm sure glad it's you and not me in there, sweetie," she said. And laughed.

Laughed!

Brianna stopped, a feeling of shock overtaking her. What was going on here? It was like she had entered an episode of The Twilight Zone. No one would come to her assistance or even offer sympathy. She whimpered, and would have collapsed were it not for the network of straps holding her in place.

Her owners, having evidently gotten their order, pulled away. She thought that they would return to the highway, but instead they pulled around to the corner of the parking lot and into the last space. It wouldn't have been so bad, except that the naked girl was facing outward, toward the rest of the lot so that she was exposed to everyone who drove in. She was convinced that they were doing this on purpose in an effort to break her will.

One of the men came around and opened the back. He climbed in and held up a leather bag with straps.

"Here's your breakfast, sweetheart. I'm going to take your bit out so I can put this on. One word from your mouth and your go hungry. Got it?"

She lowered her eyes. What else could she do? She was hungry. The man unclipped the bit and pried it from her mouth, then strapped the feedbag to her bridle. He loosened some of the straps holding her bridled head in place so she could move it a little to eat.

Brianna, who had been smelling the McDonald's for the past several minutes, felt her stomach grumble mightily in anticipation. But as she tilted her head back and opened her mouth, all she got was a moist tasteless mixture of oats and dried fruit. They could've at least given her a Coke and some fries.

As expected, she was spotted, and pretty soon a crowd began to form. The young woman was just glad that her face was half-hidden by the feedbag as people began to take pictures and make comments. There was nothing she could do as they taunted her or speculated on what she was going to be used for in graphic detail. They came closer and closer, and got increasingly bolder, until they were pressed right up to the back of the trailer, their leering faces only a few feet from her own.

It was lucky that one of her owners came out when he did, as one man tried to reach in and grab her titties.

"Everybody get back! Don't spook the poor animal!"

Animal! Is that what she was now? Yeah, she had to admit it, she was now just a domesticated beast owned and controlled by a human master.

The man climbed in and hefted her feedbag. "Not finished? We're not leaving until you've eaten your breakfast."

Brianna ate. Luckily, there wasn't much in the bag. Most of the people had dispersed. One young man dragged his girlfriend over and pointed to the pony girl. "See that? That'll be you if you don't behave." The girlfriend seemed genuinely scared, and Brianna wanted to call out to her and reassure her that, no, this doesn't happen all the time. But she wasn't so sure. She wasn't sure about anything anymore.

A state trooper pulled in, and for a fleeting moment, hope flared up in her chest, but he just stared at her for a few seconds and moved on.

She made a noise with her throat and looked at the man, indicating she was finished. He removed the feedbag, then replaced the bit.

"I suppose you have to pee again." He placed a traveler's urinal cup against her crotch and waited. She did have to, but her reluctance to do it in public made it an effort. After a few tries, she managed to empty her bladder, then made a noise in her throat.

"Good girl!" He patted her on the head, and the girl felt like she was a puppy being house-broken.

They returned to the highway, and the hapless girl once more had to endure being the object of attention by passing motorists. By the time they stopped for lunch, she realized it hardly even bothered her anymore, not even when passing bikers made obscene gestures at her.

They pulled into a small campgrounds area with a food stand off to one side. Brianna got a good look at the area as they swung around, and saw that there were only a few people sitting at the picnic tables, eating their food. She relaxed. This won't be too bad, she figured.

She was wrong. Her owners opened the back and clipped reins to her bit rings before they started undoing all the straps. The pony girl knew what they had in mind instantly, and began to whimper in protest.

The one man held a collar in front of her face and pointed to the small box on the front. "This is a canine obedience shock collar," he said. "Any noise from you and you get zapped, okay?" The girl's eyes went wide with horror as he buckled it around her throat.

They led her out, and with trembling legs, Brianna - naked, bound, and gagged - stepped down onto the gravel parking lot. The area suddenly went quiet as the other patrons noticed her and watched in disbelief. The girl running the food stand, a tiny blonde about Brianna's age, stood frozen in shock as the three approached.

"Hi," said the man holding the pony girl's reins, "we'll have two hot dogs with fries and lemonade, and do you have any raw carrots or sugar cubes for my little filly here?"

It took a few seconds for the girl to recover, and she wrote down their order with a shaking hand. "C-c-c-carrots? Um, w-w-we have carrot sticks and, but, we d-d-don't have sugar cubes."

"That'll be fine. Just give us a small order of them with a medium cup of water, no ice, okay, sweetie?"

"S-s-s-sure."

The girl scurried off and began to cook their food. She set the paper basket of carrot sticks and the water on the counter and fled back to the grill to tend to the hot dogs.

Brianna's bit was removed, and she was hand-fed the carrot sticks one at a time. In the background, she could hear the suppressed snickers and comments of the other travelers, and felt her face crimson. It was obvious no one was going to rescue her. Everyone thought it was a joke, a stunt, and she was no more human than an animal in the circus.

She ate quickly, hoping to get it all over with, but when the hot dogs and fries came, they went over to one of the picnic tables, where they tied her reins to a branch of a nearby tree and ate their food at a leisurely pace. The former beauty queen could only stand there helplessly as more strangers came and went, some merely laughing and gawking, others taking pictures. The low point came when five hunters, ranging in age from young adult to elderly, each had their pictures taken as they posed next to her; a few quick swats of the riding crop from her owners convinced her to stand tall, look cheerful, and stick out her chest for each photo.

As they started to leave, they pulled Brianna back over to the food stand and the mortified blonde, who was now rooted to the spot like a scared rabbit. The one man leered at the girl.

"Our pony is getting kinda lonely out there all by herself. Care to join her?"

The girl, literally, pissed her pants and fled to the back of the stand.

It was a very meek Brianna who was led back into the trailer and strapped in. Their ability to humiliate her, it seemed, knew no bounds.

Just when it seemed things couldn't get any worse...

They had been back on the road a half hour when the captive girl realized she had to take a dump. She knew it would be hours before they would stop again, and she tried to hold it in as long as possible, but knew it was a futile effort. Biting her lip, she emptied her bowels, hearing it drop with a soft thud on the straw between her legs. The stench hit her nostrils a few seconds later, and she knew she would have to endure it at least until dinnertime. It was a good thing the trailer wasn't entirely closed in.

She endured a couple more hours of drivers drooling over her naked and helpless body before they again stopped to eat. By this time, she had had to pee also, and found to her distress that she had no qualms about forming a puddle in the straw between her feet.

Her face reddened when they discovered her "accidents", but they cleaned it up - and her - without a word. Before heading into the restaurant, they put a mesh screen with curtains above the rear door, so that no one could see or bother her. She stood there in almost complete darkness, and soon the tantalizing aromas from the restaurant filtered into her enclosed space.

Brianna's stomach grumbled when she smelled the cooking food. She imagined she could detect steak and fish and french fries, and her mind fantasized about food food food...

A string of drool escaped from her mouth before she was able to catch it, hitting the inside of her left boob before sliding off onto the floor. How long had it been since she had had a decent meal? Less than two days, but it already seemed like a distant memory. If the past day was any indication, she would only be fed horsey-type food from now on. Could they do that? Was it even healthy? Was she a guinea pig for some new experiment?

The captive pony girl stood there for what seemed like eternity, listening to the sounds of car doors and happy people entering and leaving the restaurant. People enjoying a life that she might no longer experience ever again.

The girl sighed and sniffed back some tears, stopping suddenly and freezing when she heard someone poking and scratching at the metal screen.

"Is there a horsey in there?" she heard a female voice inquire.

"I thought I heard something" said another woman.

Brianna's mind struggled with her dilemma. Should she cry out and alert the women to her predicament? If she did, would they realize the gravity of her situation? Would they sympathize with her plight? Would they be able to do anything if they did? She remembered the woman at the drive-thru and the girl at the food stand. They hadn't done anything to help her, so why would these women be any different?

Hell, it was worth a shot. What was the worst that could happen, anyway? Brianna twisted around, jangling the metal clips and D-rings of her bonds. "HE'P NE!" she screamed.

"Oh, my God! It sounds like somebody's in there! Where's my cell phone?"

The trapped girl heard the women fumbling in their purses. Thank God, they knew something was wrong and were going to call for help! She was going to be saved!

There was the sound of running feet, the women gave sharp cries of pain, and then something hit the back of the trailer. Small metal and plastic objects clattered to the pavement.

"Shit! That was a close one!"

FUCK! Her captors had returned in time to thwart the rescue plan. The beauty queen's heart died along with any hope of freedom.

The rear doors opened, and the tasered women were hauled in one at a time. In the twilight, she saw that they were both professional-looking women in their mid-thirties, one a thin bleached-blonde and the other a full-figured redhead. Their dropped purses and cell phones were collected and tossed in with them. Holy shit, thought Brianna, they're kidnapping them, too!

With the crisis over, the men emptied the contents of a doggie bag into her feedbag and strapped it on her. She could smell steak and barbequed chicken. She didn't feel like eating, but needed to.

As she nibbled away at the cut-up pieces of meat, the men stripped the unconscious women to their underwear. The personal items and business suits were stuffed into a plastic garbage bag and taken away. The two then retrieved leather cuffs and bondage hoods from the trunk of their car and secured the women. D-rings on the tops of their hoods were clipped to the rings on the floor at Brianna's feet, well out of reach of their cuffed hands.

The pony girl was overwhelmed with guilt. She had just caused two women to lose their freedom, probably forever.

As the men were finishing up, a police car pulled into the lot and stopped just behind them. Her captors had a brief conversation with the officer and showed him some papers, then all three turned toward the trailer.

The officer peered in at Brianna and the two women lying at her feet. "Oh, yeah, I know those two," he said, indicating the unconscious women. "They're partners, both professionally and personally. Lesbian lawyers. I don't know if they'll adjust well to their new lives."

"No problem. The thin one we can always rent out as a sex pony, and her friend we can put with the other heifers and milk her titties."

Brianna's throat went dry. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. They were going to take two healthy intelligent women and use them like common animals! It was diabolical!

The doors slammed shut, and she was left alone in the darkness with the other captives. A minute later, they were back on the road.

A few hours later, they stopped at a motel. After checking in, the men dragged the two women out of the trailer. Muffled cries of protest were quickly silenced with a few sharp cracks of a riding crop. Brianna herself was allowed to pee before she was released and allowed to lie down on the straw. A blanket was thrown over her, but not before her blinders were pushed down over her eyes, held in place by Velcro and cutting off her vision. Soft rubber earplugs were thumbed into her ears. A bicycle chain was looped through a D-ring at the top of her bridle and one of the floor rings, then locked. The trailer doors were then closed and locked from the outside. Houdini himself could not have escaped from the trailer.

The two female lawyers had the hobble straps loosened between their legs and were taken back behind the motel, where there was a small clearing between the building and the dark woods. Leads were attached to the collars of their hoods and the eye coverings were removed. As the redhead, dressed in panties, hose, and full-figure bra, was hitched to a nearby tree, the blonde, dressed in stockings, white light-control girdle and seamless-cup bra, was made to circle around one of the men. Securely bound and with her companion similarly helpless, she had no choice but to canter, trot, and gallop to her Master's orders as a whip snapped at her heels.

With her mouth muzzled by the hood, she could only breathe through her nose, and it didn't take long to wear her out. She was replaced by the redhead, who was out of shape and didn't last half as long as her friend. The two exhausted and sweating women were led into the motel room.

Brianna spent the night in a cocoon of darkness and silence, with only the blanket and some hay protecting her from the cool night air. She had raised her head once, but when she had felt the tug of the bicycle chain on her bridle, she flopped back down again, realizing the hopelessness of her situation.

At dawn the next morning, the beauty queen was led out behind the motel so she could relieve herself, then strapped upright in the trailer and given her breakfast in a feedbag. As she ate, the other two women were brought out and secured on either side of her. They glared at her as they stepped up into their metal prison, as if she was to blame for their predicament. Both were completely naked and had had their hair shaved into manes. Brianna wished she could explain to them that it was not her fault, but it probably wouldn't have done any good, anyway.

Just before noon, they reached their destination.

They left the highway and bounced along a dirt road for awhile until they stopped at a farm. The two lawyers were taken out first, but not without a struggle. Brianna didn't know how much they knew of their impending fate, but they had to know that it would be long and unpleasant. After they were gone, she was reined and coaxed out of the trailer.

The naked beauty queen stepped gingerly from the small, dark trailer and glanced around in the bright sunlight.

They were on a farm, all right, but unlike any she had ever seen. There were corrals, inside of which were several dozen women, harnessed, bridled, maned, and naked except for open-nippled sports bras. Some pranced around under the controlled pace of a training carousel, others were being run through an obstacle course as trainers barked orders like boot camp instructors and cracked their whips, and still more had been hitched to carts and were being forced to sprint around an oval track by their riders. Several more stood off to the side, their reins hitched to a five-foot-high rail, their bodies as motionless as palace guards and their eyes staring straight ahead at nothing. Brianna's mind had envisioned a lot of horrifying scenarios, but nothing as bad as this. Where did all these girls come from, and how widespread was this ponygirl thing, anyway?

She felt her whole body trembling as she was taken into the first building. Inside were racks and racks of sports bras, harnesses, and bridles. One of the men gave Brianna's bra size to a stern-looking woman in her forties, who went immediately to a certain section on the rack and pulled out a plain white sports bra. As she fitted the bra onto the beauty queen's body, the newly-acquired ponygirl felt good having some clothing on her body again, even if it was a bra that exposed her nipples.

As one man took her reins, the other accepted several more bras from the women, and they took her back out and over to the next building, which turned out to be the stables. Brianna was assigned a stall, and her bras tossed onto a shelf.

Outside once more, they led her over to one of the corrals, where women pranced endlessly in circles under a training carousel.

"We'll start you out with something simple, okay?"

The carousel was stopped, one woman unhooked from the overhead framework, and Brianna was put in her place. It was a bright sunny day out in the country with a warm breeze and fresh air, but the ponygirl was focussed on the back of the woman ahead of her and marching in circles with a high-stepping gait.

Around and around and around they went, until she was ready to scream with boredom. She turned her head to look at the activities in the other corrals.

SWACK! "Eyes front, bitch!"

The girl squealed and jumped at the sudden stinging of the riding crop. Tears welled in her eyes, though it was more from frustration and anger than pain. How could anyone endure this for more than a few hours? And she would probably be forced to do this for months? Years? Decades? She didn't even want to think about it.

Lunch was more "horse feed", which she ate only because she was so hungry. When she finished, they led her off to another building, a barn.

They turned to her with big easy grins on their faces. "Would you like to see how your travel mates are doing?"

Oh, God, no, she thought.

Inside, it was worse than she could imagine. The thin blonde was on all fours, held in place by leather restraints. A leather hood covered her head, and a leather strap led from the top of the hood to a waist belt, holding her head back. Realistic male mannequins stood in front of her and behind her, pumping her mouth and cunt hard. Her bare tits swung back and forth from the motion.

"We're getting her prepared for her future occupation. The hands and arms holding her head and hips are locked in place, so she can't twist free, and the rhythm of their fucking can be controlled by remote control. At regular intervals, their cocks shoot out a realistic cum substitute to complete the experience."

Even as he spoke, a white milky substance poured out of the corners of the woman's mouth and dripped in long stringy strands from her crotch. Little whimpering sounds escaped from her throat.

"And her companion over here" - She was led to a tiny pen - "is progressing nicely."

The full-figured redhead was bent over in a milking stall, her arms and head locked into stocks at the front. Her bent-over body was held up by a network of straps. She, too, wore a hood, but this one was rubber. Tubular plastic receptacles encased her large tits like sausages, with hoses leading down to a pump and a thermos-like collection bottle.

"The patches you see on her back here deliver hormones which help her produce and release milk. Her hood is a closed-sensory-stimulation system, producing a pleasing light show for the eyes, soothing music for the ears, and perfumed scents for the nose, all of which stimulate the senses and soothe the mind. Sensors tell a computer when she is full again, and she is milked accordingly."

They waited a few minutes, until the pump started up. Brianna watched in fascinated horror as the woman's nipples swelled up from the suction and began shooting thin jets of milk.

"We'll put her on a special diet, so her milk will be sweet and nutritious."

A wave of revulsion hit the ponygirl, and she began to struggle against her reins. How could this be happening in this day and age? It wasn't possible!

The men dragged her back outside, and when they had calmed her down, they put her on the training carousel. Brianna gave in, tramping around and around in circles, her eyes fixed on the brunette in front of her as tears flowed down her cheeks. This was to be her fate, like it or not.

The former beauty queen settled into her routine of training, exercise, and punishment, her previous existence largely forgotten. She lost all inhibitions as the male stablehands washed and dressed her and changed her sanitary napkins, and she relieved herself on the ground or in plastic strap-on toilet bags. And she no longer thought for herself, as that was no longer necessary, as she was told what to do, or things were done for her.

However, as the ponygirls came and went, and were segregated into various training regimens, she began to wonder what all this training was for. The big athletic girls were mainly used for pulling carts and plows, the fast ones were used for pulling sulkies around a track, and the nimble, attractive ones like her were made to perform elaborate routines or dressage. Others, often full-figured or unathletic, just disappeared; Brianna assumed they were used for sex or milking like the two brought in with her.

She had thought she was getting numbed to the whole situation, but one day the tiny blonde from the food stand was brought in, naked and harnessed, her eyes red and puffy from sobbing. If ever a girl was unsuited to the demanding work and harsh discipline of the ponygirl farm, it was her. After struggling for two weeks and receiving so many whippings she looked like a human zebra, she, too, disappeared, and Brianna hoped that she wasn't being used for sex or milking.

The former beauty queen was one of the ones picked for the dressage and chorus-girl routines. She and the other ponygirls had to perform in perfect synchronization with each other or they got smacked with the riding crop and had to repeat the routine, which happened a lot. The constant repetition was mind-numbing and back-breaking, but they couldn't rest until they were allowed to. And they weren't allowed to until they performed perfectly. Not even the fact that they were drenched in sweat, or moaned in pain, or had tears streaming down their cheeks, gave them a reprieve from the military discipline of their training.

Brianna lost track of time, but her best guess was that it was about four months from her abduction that she was put up for auction again. It was online this time, so she had no idea who had bought her or for how much. All she knew was that they had taken some video footage of her for a few days, and then a week later she was being hustled into another horse trailer, this one completely enclosed.

She spent the next three or four days in the hot confines of the small metal carrier, blindfolded and earplugged, her only break from the monotony an occasional bump or change in the road surface which bounced her titties around. She was given the same bland horse feed and had to relieve herself in plastic toilet bags. At night, she slept on the straw-covered floor, leather-bound and chained, unable to protect herself from the mosquitos or tiny crawly things that found her bare flesh enticing.

The girl was so numbed by her journey that it took several minutes for the fact that she was being unloaded to sink in. She could feel the cool night breeze and smell the fresh salty air of the ocean. Where were they taking her? She was led up an incline, and somehow knew that she was being put on a ship.

Fear drained her of all energy. She was being taken out of the country! Who knows where she would end up. No one would be able to find her now! A sob clogged her throat. Why was this happening to her? Why couldn't she live her own life?

With a hand on each arm, Brianna was led through the ship, down narrow corridors and steep stairways into a dank oppressive room. The hands released her, the reins were removed, and the blindfold and earplugs were taken away.

The ponygirl's eyes and ears had barely adjusted before the cell door was slammed shut. Looking through the metal bars, she could see another imprisoned ponygirl across from her in the dim light from the corridor between them.

A short time later, a number of men entered their "prison". Brianna and the others were leashed and blindfolded and led away to another part of the ship. The young girl tried to memorize the path they took, but the twists and turns were too many. After several minutes, they were made to stop. From the echoing of their hoofs and the men's voices, she could tell they were in a cavernous room.

Her guess that they were on a stage proved correct when their blindfolds were removed and she saw the rows of empty seats in the darkened theater. So this was it, she thought, we're to perform for passengers on a cruise ship. It was not a bright prospect, but certainly much better than many of the scenarios that had gone through her mind.

A man with a riding crop faced them as they were lined up. "Okay, fillies, pay attention! We'll start with trotting in place. Go! Left right left right left right--"

There were over a dozen ponygirls, prancing in synchronization like some kind of S&M Rockettes show, an unbroken line of titties and knees bouncing in unison to an imaginary audience. They were made to rehearse various routines for the next couple hours, after which they were all thoroughly exhausted.

Which was why they were unable to resist as they were taken backstage to have their heads shaved into manes, their pussies shaved bare, and the cruise line logo tattooed on the upper part of their left breasts.

"Good work, girls!" said the trainer. "You'll be fitted with your costumes tomorrow."

They were hosed down, then put back in their cells, where they were given a meal, which appeared to be scraps and leftovers from what had been served to passengers. Brianna heard a few of the other girls sobbing, and wondered how much longer she, too, could hold up under this kind of abuse. A short time later, their bridles were replaced with leather hoods, and they were put to bed on plastic air mattresses, one ankle chained to the wall.

The former beauty queen slept well, having long ago become accustomed to this kind of treatment.

The next day, they were dressed in their "costumes", which were basically harnesses and bridles with lots of spangles and fake jewels. The only significant addition was a butt plug pony tail, which some of the girls found hard to get used to. They spent the rest of the day going through their routines, until they were ready to drop from fatigue.

The trainer sighed heavily. "That'll have to do, I guess. Your first show is tomorrow night. Don't fuck up, or you'll be severely punished. Fuck up repeatedly, and you'll be part of another, more private, show which I guarantee will be a lot more brutal than this one."

He didn't provide any more information than that, but let the ponygirls' imaginations fill in the details. Just his tone of voice told them that it would be a traumatising ordeal.

They performed the next night. Two shows. The audience was large and enthusiastic. Brianna wondered if any of them knew what she and the other ponygirls had gone through. Probably not. At least, that's what she preferred to think. It would be unbearable to think that everyone watching was aware of the pain and suffering that went into their performances and didn't care. And yet-- here they were, applauding a bunch of bound and naked girls being made to perform humiliating acts like they were show ponies.

Two shows a night. And still the house was packed each night. Were they THAT popular? Were there THAT many passengers on board? Perhaps this was the only nightime entertainment.

During the day, they were brought on deck and made to run laps around the entire ship as guests drank, sunned themselves, and relaxed. They barely gave her and the other ponygirls a glance, even though they wore only sports bras and pony tack. A rock band played oldies. Waitresses dressed in nothing but black latex catsuits that covered everything but their tits, ass, crotch, eyes and nostrils served drinks and snacks. As the ponygirl jogged in the hot sun, she winced at the thought of having to spend the whole day in the tropics sweltering in black rubber.

And that wasn't the worst of it. As she passed one viewing deck, she heard a muffled scream. In the shaded entranceway, she caught a brief glimpse of a latex-clad waitress being held aloft by a man on each arm as a third man, naked from the waist down, hoisted her by her ass and entered her. A vision of two black-clad legs flailing helplessly in the air haunted her as she continued on, because what else could she do? She knew at this point that she meant nothing to her owners, and that she would be punished both for stopping her training and for reporting what she had seen.

They were gone the next time she came around several minutes later, and she tried to convince herself that she had imagined it, her mind suffering under the heat. But the image was too vivid.

Occasionally, she saw land, or another ship, but she didn't waste time memorizing details. Escape, she knew, was hopeless, and her life was destined to be one of endless repetition, going round and round in circles, just as she jogged round and round the cruise ship's deck . . .