The Summer Job
by I. Binder
Author's Note: I did not set out to write a novel. I knew where the story ended but I let the characters pick the path that led there. In the process I have become very fond of these characters. I hope you enjoy them as well.
Jennifer met the end of the semester with mixed emotions. She had enjoyed her first year of college, being away from home and living in the dorms had been great. She also enjoyed school. She had been disciplined, worked hard and maintained her grades. That didn't mean she had not had fun. After all, college was not supposed to be all work. She had been lucky as well with her roommate. They had gotten along well from the moment they met. Abigail Johnson, Abby to her friends, which included Jen, was also a freshman, but a lot more outgoing than Jennifer. Jen did not consider herself to be shy, but this was the first time she had lived away from home. It was the first time that she did not have to check in with someone and get permission for the things that she did. That gave her a feeling of freedom, but it came with a twinge of guilt whenever she stepped outside what had been deemed to be the expected boundaries.
Abby liked to party. More so than Jen; Jen knew that because of Abby she was partying a lot more than she would have if she were here alone. While she felt a little guilty about this, on another level she was pleased with the result. The two of them were a formidable pair. They were both tall just under 5' 10" and very well endowed, shapely hips and narrow waists. They both had light brown hair cut to just below their shoulders. Their hair color had been close from the time they met, but they had taken to utilizing the same color hue and style. The effect was to make them virtually indistinguishable from behind. Over time their makeup style became similar and they even began to dress alike.
Whenever they walked into a club they always attracted attention, Jen loved that. When clubbing, which was almost every weekend, they tended to stick together. But this meant that Jen had not established any real relationships with any of the men at school. She certainly dated, but more often than not it would be her and Abby together going to the clubs, dancing, and leaving together sometimes with men, but more often not. This was good. She really did not want a committed relationship at this point in her life. She was here to get her education, and have a good time along the way. Relationships and all the things that came with them could wait for later.
She had not had to work during the school year. Her scholarship and some money she had saved during high school along with a small stipend from her parents had been enough. The problem was her savings were supposed to be enough for at least two if not three years and they were almost gone. But, she told herself, she had three months to work and to rebuild her reserve. If she could get a decent job over the summer she figured she could assemble at least enough to get through Christmas. It would however mean a severe limitation on partying next year. But that should not be a problem, she assumed she and Abby would go their separate ways. She did not have any great expectations that her friendship with Abby would turn into one of those life time relationships. After all, it was highly unlikely that they would be roommates again next year, and if that did not occur, after a summer apart they would likely see their relationship change to no more than casual friends. She thought about that and felt a twinge of loss at the prospect.
But right now her challenge was finding a job, and not just any job. She needed a good one. It appeared that she would have to go home and see if she could land on her parents for the summer, that way her overhead would disappeared. That is how she was able to save the money in the first place. The prospect of the loss of freedom associated with moving home was less than welcome, but she did not see what other alternative she had. She did not want to drop out of school to try to earn money. She knew that the odds of returning under that situation were de minimis. She did not look forward to the call to her parents telling them that she was coming. She had put it off about as long as she could. It would probably have to happen today.
She had applied for a number of jobs locally, but nothing that would pay enough to justify staying had emerged, so it looked like home it was. She had a copy of the want ads from her home town paper and had circled a number of possibilities, but it was not encouraging. But, she was a girl with determination. She would spend the first week at home hitting the pavement.
Jen had packed all her belongings, as had Abby, they had to leave their room by week's end. With the exception of a suitcase with the things she needed all the time and her lap top she had arranged to put everything else in storage. She had no furniture, so it was just clothes, books, a CD player and a small TV.
The door opened and Abby dashed in. Her smile, which was always infectious, was much larger than normal. She was holding something in her hand which she was waiving about. "Are you sitting down?" She could clearly see that Jen was sitting on her bed. "I have it, I have it, I have it!" The paper in her hand again waived around like she was appearing at death row on the day of execution with a gubernatorial pardon.
"Slow down. What are you talking about?"
"How would you like to spend the summer at a luxurious resort off the coast of Mexico with room and board provided and still earn $1,000 per week?" That question might as well be rhetorical. She would like to earn $1,000 per week. She would be thrilled to do it at some resort that included room and board. The darkness that had been creeping over Jen was washing away. Abby's enthusiasm always seemed to pass to Jen. That is one of the things that Jen really loved about their relationship. Jen could be a bit morose at times, but it never lasted long with Abby around.
"Of course I would love that. What is the catch and what are the chances of that happening?"
"Well, no catch, and right now about 99%."
"What? What do you mean? Where, when, how can you be so sure?" Jen actually found herself bouncing up and down on the bed.
"The resort is very exclusive. It is called 'Exotic Fantasy'. It is on an island and you can only get there by private aircraft or private boat. It is like a theme park only it is a theme fantasy resort." She held up a brochure with pictures of beautiful people enjoying drinks in lush surroundings. Jen could tell just be looking that it was a very expensive place that catered to only the wealthiest of clientele. She only hoped that some day she would be able to afford to go to such a place.
"Jobs can't be easy to get there." Jen had started to get excited, but reality was setting in, there must be thousands of people like her and Abby that would apply for what had to be a very limited pool of jobs.
"I already submitted our names, pictures, and background information. I didn't tell you because I figured there was no way in hell that we would get accepted. But . . ." She held up an e-mail. "We are both accepted subject only to a final interview tomorrow in Los Angeles. We have a flight this morning to LA." Abby was once again jumping up and down as she waived the e-mail. "I know I shouldn't have submitted your name without your approval, but I thought it was like the lottery. What chance was there anyway? I didn't see any harm."
"This morning? We have to fly to Los Angeles this morning?"
"Yes, if you want the job we will have to leave for the airport in about an hour. But, we are both all packed. The storage company is coming to get our stuff. We don't have anything we have to reschedule. I can't think of a single reason we can't just go to the airport and go to LA."
"Well . . ." Abby always had the ability to convince Jen. There had to be something wrong with this, but Jen could not think of what it might be. It was not like she had some other great prospect she would be turning down. She and Abby would be together. And with room and board included she should be able to save virtually all of the money she was paid. She was sure Abby was underestimating the difficulty of the job. Jen had done the waitress thing at the Country Club back home, she knew how demanding and difficult rich people could be, and this place had to cater to the richest of the rich. She could see Abby thinking that this would be a great place to meet a very rich prospect. She did not think that was realistic, but even at face value it was hard to turn down. She had not yet called her parents to tell them she was coming home for the summer so she had no commitment there. She was going to do that today. What the hell. "Ok, let's do it!"
Within an hour Jen found herself in a cab on the way to the airport with Abby. Her stomach was knotted and she did not know if it was anticipation or concern. This just all seemed too good to be true, and in Jen's world things that seemed too good to be true almost always were too good to be true, but, her and Abby working at some fancy resort in Mexico. Summer resort work was always one of the gold rings for college students, but they usually didn't pay very well. This one paid top dollar. She let her misgivings go and started to get into the moment.
Everything was going smoothly. The e-tickets were there at the airport all she had to do was present her driver's license and get her boarding pass. They had even pre-paid for one bag. Very efficient she thought. As she and Abby were boarding the plane she thought about the fact that this itinerary did not have a return. If something went wrong she would have to contact her parents and ask them to rescue her from LA. Actually the ticket was to Long Beach, not LA. If she got stuck her parents would not be happy, but they would at least get her home, so that was not too great a risk. And besides, since the resort was flying them out to California, if for some reason she did not get the job they should at least make sure she got home. She could picture Abby raising hell until they did. The picture in her mind made her smile.
It was too late for second thoughts, the plane had left the gate and she was on her way. But then she looked over at Abby sitting next to her and let her enthusiasm spread. After takeoff, as she leaned back and for the first time since Abby's announcement got a chance to catch her breath she realized that other than the fact that they were eventually going to Mexico and that they were to be well paid she knew almost nothing about this job.
"Abby, you never said. What are we going to be doing at this resort? Are we waitressing? Do we have to rely upon tips to make the weekly amount?"
"That is the fun part, and how I got us in. Because we look so much alike I signed us up as a matched pair of pony girls. We wear fun costumes and prance around in parades and at parties. It is kind of like the theme characters at Disneyland and Universal Studios. We pull a cart like a little chariot in races against other teams." She fished out the brochure and showed Jen a picture of two very tall girls next to a small cart that had large bicycle type wheels on each side of a small platform that still looked large enough for two people to stand on. The cart part had a curved front and sides with an open back. Two bars extended from the front of the cart each one of which ended in what looked like a forked portion to allow two people to pull it from the front.
The two girls had their hair in pony tails up high on their heads. They wore a harness of white leather that circled their neck with a wide collar; they had bands across their chest above and below their breasts, a wider belt around their waist and straps up and over each shoulder. Below the waist belt the harness extended down and appeared to disappear between their legs. They had on high boots that went all the way to the knee. The bottom of the boot looked like it might extend at the foot to form a platform of some type. Although it was hard to make out the detail each of them had some type of head harness that circled the forehead, around the head near the mouth, and appeared to extend up and over the top of the head. From behind the head harness a large feathery blue plume extended upward at least two feet. It appeared that there were reins running from the head harness back over their shoulders. Under the harness they appeared to be wearing a light cotton shirt and shorts.
The effect of the complete outfit was very sexy and Jen couldn't help but wonder how she would look in it. The waist belt accentuated the girls' waists. That was good for her and Abby; they both had very trim waists. The girls' legs looked very long. She couldn't tell for sure, but the boots seemed to extend the length of their legs. She could not see the heel, but it looked like these boots would have at least a 4" heel if not more. That would be a bit complicated to run in, but as long as the competition wore the same boots that would be ok. Both she and Abby were in great shape. They worked out together a lot and both liked to run. The thought of pulling a cart in a race did not bother Jen, although she did not think she liked the look of the head harness thing or the idea of the reins. It might be a bit humiliating to be connected to something like that and have to pull someone else in front of a crowd of people. "But, I guess that is why it pays so well," she thought. The two girls in the picture looked very similar. She could see how she and Abby had gotten an advantage in that regard. No wonder Abby had put them both in for the job. It appeared that the job requirements needed a pair.
Jen felt a twinge of apprehension as she looked again at the picture, she felt a small knot of worry deep in her stomach, but Abby seemed so excited, and she was on her way. She wondered if she would have backed out if she had been given more time to think about this. Maybe, but that was academic now. She was going to at least give it the 'good old college try'. It was pretty obvious that if she got cold feet it would kill it for Abby too. She did not want to do that to her friend. And, she reminded herself, she really needed the money.
The plane landed at the Long Beach airport. For an area as large as Los Angeles it was small airport, but still serviced by commercial flights. Jen thought it would be hot, but she had never been to California before so she really did not know what to expect. As Jen and Abby left the secure area of the airport and headed for baggage claim they saw an individual holding a sign with their names on it. They identified themselves and were told that a car was waiting for them. The person even took their luggage claims and collected their bags, placing them in the trunk of the car. It was not a large limousine, but it was a big black town car, and there was a cooler with water and sodas in the back. This was certainly more than the treatment Jen had expected. She was beginning to feel like a celebrity. Since it was already early evening Jen expected that they would go to a hotel, but instead the car drove into the harbor area of the city, passed through a series of gates, and eventually ended up at a warehouse that was next to a pier.
As they pulled up and the car stopped they were greeted by a tall woman with jet black hair, elegantly dressed in a gray business suit but with knee length black boots over stiletto heels. She wore a white shirt with ruffles down the front and a tight collar at the neck. They made introductions and shook hands. She told them not to worry about their bags, the driver would make sure they got to their destination and they (Jen and Abby) should come with her. She gestured toward the building behind her. With that she turned and walked across the pier and through the door. They followed. This was clearly someone who expected her directions to be followed. Jen's first impression was she would be a very precise and demanding boss, but given the exclusive nature of the resort she would have been surprised at anything other than good organization, a well trained staff, and high expectations. She was ok with that. She had always set high expectations and goals for herself and felt she could easily measure up.
They were led into a locker room. Each of them were given a lock and directed to a locker.
"This will be your locker for the short time you are here. Inside you will find a sports bra, a cotton shirt, white cotton panties, shorts and flip flops. Please put everything else in the locker including your purse, any make-up and cell phones. There are no pockets in the pants so you cannot carry anything out of this room. If you need to make a call it will have to be when you have been given a break. There is an envelope for your jewelry. All jewelry must be put in the envelope. Then seal it, write your name on the outside and put it in your locker. There is a squeegee to put your hair in a pony tail. It should be high on the head in back. When you are done and changed write your name on the tag connected to your key and drop it in the lock box by the door. A staff member will collect and hold the keys. If you need something you will have to coordinate with staff after being given a break. When you are done report to the assignment desk out the door and down the hall to your left. You will be expected in fifteen minutes." She didn't even wait to see if they had any questions, she just turned and exited the room.
The banks of lockers could accommodate about a hundred individual lockers. Jen could see that about a third had locks on them. Jen quickly followed the directions she had been given. Only as she sealed up the envelope with her watch, rings, necklace and earrings did she realize she would be leaving this room with nothing of hers. She had not called her parents or anyone else to tell them where she was going. Before she turned off her phone she picked it up to try to give them a quick call. The phone indicated that there was no service. It had to be the metal in the building. She would have to go outside later when she got a break and call them. She turned off the phone and locked it along with all her clothing, her purse, and her jewelry in the locker. As the lock on the door clicked shut a slight shiver ran through Jen, but she shook it off. As directed she wrote her name on the tag of the key and dropped it in the lockbox by the door. She wasn't thrilled with the idea of someone else holding the key to her locker where her things were, but it was done now and there would have been no way to get the key back.
She waited a few minutes for Abby to finish and then the two of them left the locker room together and walked up the hall until they came to a door with a sign that said "Assignments". Pushing the door open revealed a small room with doors on either side in addition to the door through which they had entered. Inside was a desk with a woman seated behind it. She had a clip board on the desk. As the girls entered she looked up and asked their names. She ran her pen up the page on the clip board and put checks next to something, presumably their names. Then she punched a button on her phone and advised someone that numbers 135 and 136 were available for their trainers. Jen was surprised that they were not directed to sit down, but within no more than two minutes two women entered the room. They were both dressed in similar looking attire, khaki shirts and Jodhpur pants with brown knee length riding boots. They were only of average height at about 5'5" and 5'6" respectively. Both appeared trim and in good shape.
On one of the trainer's direction Jen and Abby followed them through one of the side doors. This led to a new corridor with doors along the sides; Abby and her trainer disappeared through one door and then Jen and her trainer entered the next. Jen was surprised that neither of these girls had introduced themselves, shaken hands, or engaged in any of the normal formalities of social meeting. They had entered a small room, nothing more than a large dressing room. There were a set of cabinets against one wall and a bench against another.
The trainer picked up her clipboard and seemed to be inspecting a form. She then went to the cabinets and removed a set of boots similar to the ones Jen had seen on the girl in the picture from the brochure. She handed them to Jen and told her to put them on. Jen immediately saw that the bottom of the boot ended in what looked like a flared hoof and then arched back up; it even had a horseshoe at the bottom. She would be standing on her toes when she put these on. There was no heel, but if there had been it would have been at least 5". They did not look comfortable and Jen thought "these are not going to be easy to work in." She turned them about in her hands examining the boot. The inside was soft leather and they had padding in the area around the toe. At least she would not be on the end of her toe as with ballet shoes. Jen had learned ballet, but had never enjoyed nor become proficient at toe. She thought of protesting, but then decided she might as well give it a try. She had promised herself she would try. It looked like the boots were well engineered; maybe they were not as uncomfortable as they looked.
Jen sat on the bench and pulled the first boot onto her foot and leg. The fit was snug, but not uncomfortable. Of course she had not tried to stand on it yet. After she laced up the boot she noticed it had a strap that buckled around the ankle and another at the top of the boot just below the knee. She buckled these straps noticing that each strap had a small metal loop on the back of the leg. She briefly wondered at the purpose of these.
The trainer signaled for her to stand and turn around. She did. The boots felt a bit wobbly, but the expanded surface on the hoof part of the boot combined with the very tight support it provided on her foot and leg made standing on them much easier than she had expected. 'Very well designed,' she thought to herself. She could learn to run in these things. She could win races. Even though she was standing on her toes it was not that bad. Of course she had only stood this way for a few minutes. How would they be over time?
She then heard the sound of the trainer working with what sounded like a stack of straps. She was pretty sure this was the body harness she had seen in the picture. It has looked very sexy in the picture, but suddenly the idea of all those straps wrapped around her body was a bit oppressive. She almost said no, but instead bit her lip and focused ahead on the wall in front of her. She wasn't going to give in this easily. She knew this was very important to Abby.
Jen felt the harness pulled around in front of her from behind. She was instructed to raise her arms, which she did. The trainer first attached a collar around her neck. It was quite wide, maybe 2½ inches. It buckled at the back of her neck. The rest of the harness hung down in front of her from a center strap that joined all of the body straps down to the waist. She could feel that there was something additional to the harness in back, but she could not see it. Next the trainer buckled the strap over and then under her breasts. They did not buckle together, but instead each fed to a buckle on something on her back. It felt like the back portion of the harness was wider than the small strap that ran down the front of her. Following the upper straps there was the waist belt. This was about 4" wide and unlike the other straps had two straps that wrapped around the back and finally buckled in the front. The trainer walked around in front of Jen and reached down between her legs and drew up another portion of the harness. Jen glanced down and saw what looked like a leather triangle emerging from between her legs. It buckled in two places to the belt in front.
None of the straps were very tight, but they did accentuate her body nicely. Jen was surprised that the room did not have a mirror so she could more easily see how it all looked. Jen was a little surprised when the trainer moved to her right side and she felt a strap wrapped around her upper arm just above the elbow and buckled. She repeated this on the left side. Jen's arms had been strapped to her side. She didn't think she liked this very much and started to turn her arms in the straps, but before she could test the limits of the straps she felt the trainer take each of her wrists behind her and fold them up across the arm of the other. Then a large strap, at least 2" was pulled up over her now joined arms and buckled to the back of the harness. Her arms were effectively held behind her. She could move her hands about, but could not lower them because of the wrist/arm strap. The strap was not tight, but she could not pull her arms out because of the elbow straps.
As Jen was starting to squirm at the unexpected binding of her arms the trainer was back with the head harness. "Stop squirming." The command was sharp and Jen froze in place. The harness was placed over her head. One strap ran around her forehead just above her eyes. A strap from that went over the middle of her head splitting at the crown into two straps down the back. They then intersected the forehead strap behind her head and extended down to behind her head. A strap ran from the crown of her head down both sides of her head under her chin where the ends crossed and then buckled into the collar on both sides of her neck.
If asked Jen would tell that she was beginning to feel fear. Even a sense of panic was starting to build inside her, but for some strange reason she found herself frozen in place as the trainer continued with the bridle. She was instructed to open her mouth and felt the bit to the bridle placed into her mouth. At each corner of her mouth was a ring which was on a strap that passed through a loop on the strap that circled her head from the crown to her chin. This strap continued around behind her head and buckled at the back of her head just above her neck. Because it was not connected to the strap around her head it could be independently tightened without regard to the head strap, yet because it passed through loops on both sides it was held in place just behind the corners of her mouth. Connected to the rings was a dowel covered with rubber to make it pliable, but certainly not soft. From the center of the dowel pointed inward was a plate about an inch and a half in length. When the bit was placed in her mouth the plate pushed down on Jen's tongue. The dowel was connected with links to the circles in the bridle, but the ends of the dowel itself, without rubber covering extended through the two rings. They each then had a short raised bar to which reins could be attached. The effect would be that when someone pulled on the reins it would not only pull the dowel deeper into the mouth, but would rotate the plate down on the wearer's tongue.
Quickly the trainer adjusted the straps and pulled them tight. Ok, Jen really hated this. It was not comfortable at all. It held her mouth open with her teeth biting down on the rubber covering of the dowel. There were no reins attached so the plate was just floating in her mouth, and although it was not long enough to create a gag reflex, she could not get her tongue around or over it. She tried to say. "I don't like this." It sounded nothing like what she had said. She shook her head from side to side to try to dislodge or loosen the bit in her mouth. It fit perfectly and moved with her head as she shook. She found herself snorting through her nose as she did this.
This drew an almost affectionate pat from the trainer to her shoulder. "Nice pony, we are almost done getting you ready then we will work on some training."
The trainer had returned her attention to the harness and was tightening all of the straps. Jen responded by shaking her body back and forth a couple of times, but the trainer paid no attention and continued to tighten first one then another until all of the straps felt much tighter than before. Then Jen heard the sound of locks clicking. As she looked down at the two buckles she could see in front of her she saw that each buckle had a hole in the hasp for a padlock. The trainer locked all the buckles in place. Why on earth would she do that? Why had they taken her hands away? Jen's anxiety was at a very high level. She knew Abby would be really angry with her, but she did not think she was going to be able to go through with this. It had gotten too over the top for her. She again tried to tell the trainer to stop. Nothing intelligible came out. She shook her head, body and even stomped her foot.
"Very good, you are really getting the equine character," the trainer said as she again stroked and patted Jen. Jen stopped in frustration. She would just have to wait until a break to make her complaints known. She wondered how long they would space breaks. She thought employers had to give a break at least every two or three hours. She could handle that.
Jen could not see what was going on behind her, in fact the collar and head harness made it very difficult to turn her head. But something was lifted up over her hands and arms and again strapped and buckled to the back and sides of the harness. She felt around with her hands and realized that her arms and hands were now not only strapped to her sides and back but encased in leather. She no longer had hands. She tried to remember if she had seen the girls' hands in the picture on the brochure. How were they supposed to pull the cart with no hands?
After a quick check the trainer seemed satisfied with her work. She clipped a lead line to one side of the bit in Jen's mouth and giving her a click click with her tongue directed her out the door and back into the corridor. Jen stumbled after her trying to get the feel of the strange boots. After reaching the end of the corridor they existed into a large open area inside the warehouse.
The trainer picked up something from just outside the door and led Jen over to a circular paddock. Jen could see several other similar looking circular areas. In three of them she saw other pony girls dressed in the same way she was. The trainer stood in the middle of the paddock with the pony moving around her in a circle, the radius of the circle was controlled by the amount of lead on the lead line given by the trainer. In the trainer's other hand was a buggy type whip. It extended up about 6' then had 3 to 4 feet of line on the end. The trainer would snap it near the back of the pony to emphasize commands.
"Oh God". Thought Jen, but then she heard the snap of her trainer's whip; she felt the pop in the air but there was no bite. It had not connected to her flesh.
"Move in a circle. Lift legs high with each step."
Ok, at least they didn't hit you with it. More of the spectacle, she was beginning to feel like a pony. She was certainly being treated like one. She started to circle around the trainer, lifting her legs with each step. She could see how important practice in these boots would be. They were a lot easier to stand on than to walk in. She was not looking very graceful. The trainer kept giving her correction, most commands punctuated with the snap of the whip so close to her skin that a wave of fear surged through her with every pop. The trainer was very good with that whip. Jen was hoping her aim would stay as good. She did not want to feel the bite of the whip against her skin. Even though she was not actually being hit it did encourage her to try harder and all thought of needing to get out of this outfit melted into determination to do a good job.
Jen wondered how Abby was doing. She tried to look around to see her, but it was very hard to do. She had to keep her head turned toward the right as she circled right because of the lead line. If she shifted her head, or wobbled too much she felt the hard downward pressure of the bit against her tongue and the bite of the rubber at the corners of her mouth. She really hated that bit. She also hated not being able to communicate anything. They should have at least given her some signals that she could use to convey her message to the trainer. If they asked for any input after she quit she would make that suggestion. She wasn't really a pony, after all, although she felt a little like one right now.
Her thoughts went back to Abby. Jen figured in some ways she would be doing much better than Abby. She doubted that the discomfort would be a big factor with her, but she was such a strong willed person. The idea of not having any control, not being able to communicate in any way would probably be driving her crazy. Unless she quit already, Jen just could not see Abby letting her hands be restrained. She was wondering why she had. It had just been done so quickly and so matter of fact like it was just the most normal natural thing that she had been restrained before she could even think to protest.
The training was tiring, but not horrible. She was getting much better at walking in the boots. She had even been able to pick up the pace and trot in them although that was very tiring and having her hands locked across her back made it very much more difficult. She was used to using her hands and arms when she ran and now she not only had to contend with running on her toes but without the normal balance created by her arms. But, she was getting the knack of it. She wondered how much longer before they took a break. Her watch was in the locker and there was no clock she could see in the warehouse so she had no idea how long they had been at it. Although she was less sure she would just quit when they took their break she was pretty sure that if she was going to stay she was going to demand that her arms be left free. She was getting use to the bridle and bit, and she could see the importance of that to the outfit, but they did not need to take away her arms.
It had to have been longer than three hours. Jen was very tired. The constant walking and trotting on the boots had caused her toes to start to hurt. Her legs were sore and she wanted to sit down very badly. Then she heard a short blast on a horn. Her trainer stopped her circling and again clicking with her tongue started to guide Jen out of the paddock.
'Thank God,' she thought. She really needed to sit down. She was being guided back in the direction from where they came into the warehouse, but not toward the door they had entered. She briefly wondered how she was going to get back to her phone in just a break time, and then decided that might have to wait for a longer break or until after she quit. Right now she just needed to sit down and take the pressure off her poor toes.
As they got closer to a door in the interior warehouse wall Jen noticed four other pony girls all standing next to each other to one side of the door. Two of them were similarly dressed to her the other two were naked under the harness. As they turned and shifted back and forth Jen could see their rather ample breasts swing back and forth. It appeared that large breasts were also a selection criteria for pony girls. She wondered why the team was naked. She certainly hoped they would not ask her and Abby to go sans clothing. She believed Abby would have no problem with it, but it was not for her. Just one more thing she would not agree to. It seemed even more unlikely that when she presented her conditions they would keep her on. Abby would be very disappointed, she was sure of that, and Jen was sorry she would be missing out on the income and the parties at the exotic resort, but she did have her limits.
Jen was also wondering why the other teams were still standing. There was a bench only about 8 feet from where they were yet they were all standing very close together. In fact their bodies were touching. Then she stopped in horror. In front of the girls was a hitching post and the lead line from each of the girls was tied to the crossbeam on the hitching post with only about 4' of slack. None of them could get to the bench. As she stopped her lead line tightened and her trainer roughly pulled her forward until she was positioned at one end of the post. The lead line then, like the other four was tied to the post. Then the trainer knelt down and connected a short 6" hobble line between the loops on the cuffs around Jen's ankles. Having completed that action the trainer walked through the door into what Jen could see was a break room for the employees. This was break time. Jen looked down and saw that all of the other ponies were similarly hobbled.
They could not keep her restrained through break time. They could not make her stand here like this. She needed to sit down. She needed to get her hands free. In fact, she needed to get out of this place. She now knew that she had had enough. This was the last straw. She wondered where Abby was. Then she saw her being pulled across the floor, pulled, because she was clearly being uncooperative. She would stop (dig in her heels as if she had any) then be jerked forward by her lead line taking another three or four steps to keep from falling forward and then stop again. Loud snorting sounds were escaping from her mouth and nose. It looked like Abby was of the same mind as Jen. They needed to get the hell out of here. This job was just not worth it.
She was hoping Abby would end up next to her so they could try to communicate, but instead she was pulled up to the far end of the hitching post and secured there in the same fashion as the rest of the ponies. As Abby pulled and twisted Jen could see her from behind. She was shocked to see brilliant red lines on her flanks and thighs. Her trainer either had much poorer aim than Jen's or she had intentionally put the whip to Abby. No wonder she was resisting. Jen would not have put up with being whipped for two seconds. Jen tried to pull away from the bar. The lead line brought her up short. It had only been wrapped around the bar a couple of time and then loosely looped back through itself, but she could not pull it free on the rough wooden surface of the bar. If she had hands she could have reached over and released it. But she had no hands. She remembered the times she had gone riding. She remembered the horses standing at the hitching post with the reins loosely draped over the bar. All six pony girls here were held to the bar. Since none of them had hands they could not help themselves or one another. And all of them wore bridles and bits in their mouths so they could not use their mouths. There was nothing any of them could do but stand here waiting for the trainers to finish their break and then return to the training.
Jen looked at the other two teams standing at the rail. It was easy to determine the teams since one team was naked. She could see marks on the flanks and buttocks of the naked team, but they did not appear fresh. Neither naked pony seemed particularly upset by what was occurring. They just stood there slowly moving back and forth and occasionally chewing at the bit in their mouth. Maybe they had been here longer and had accepted this practice. "Whatever floats your boat." Not Jen, and from what she could see clearly not Abby. Whenever this ended for the day they were out of here.
The other team seemed much more like her and Abby. One of the girls had a look of wild desperation in her eyes. Jen could tell that she was continuing to test the strength and hold of the restraints that held her arms, moving them back and forth and up and down. She could not move to the side because she was sandwiched in between her team mate and one of the naked ponies. Every time the naked girl moved such that their bodies touched the girl would jerk herself away. It was like she was afraid she was going to catch the nakedness. She would back away from the post and pull at the lead line then slowly move forward to take the pressure off her mouth. The other girl in this team seemed lost in thought. Her eyes were puffy and red. She had clearly been crying. It looked to Jen like another team that wanted nothing more to do with this job. It was pretty clear that at least two of the three teams planned on getting the hell out of here. Jen wondered how many teams they had to try out to find one who would accept this craziness. No wonder they paid so much. But it was not enough.
Jen looked around the inside of the warehouse and tried to figure out how she was going to tell the trainer that she quit. All of the pony trainers seemed to be enjoying themselves in the break room while their steeds stood milling at the hitching post. From the look of Abby, resistance alone was not going to communicate the message, and may well just draw undesired results. Jen considered trying to scratch a message in the dirt, but she had little room to move, especially with her ankles hobbled, so that seemed unlikely. She would try once again to speak her mind and signal to remove the bit from her mouth so she could talk.
A sound caught her attention and another door further away from the break room opened. A staff member dressed in leather jeans and a vest over a white shirt emerged holding a small gold-colored chain. Jen could hear sounds from beyond the doorway and then saw a girl shuffle from the door. She was dressed only in a gossamer top that although covering her breasts did not hide any detail of them from sight, including the rings behind each nipple. She wore similar gossamer harem pants. They obviously had no crotch because the golden chain went directly to the crotch of the girl. As the holder of the chain gave it another pull prompting the girl forward Jen could see what looked like a ring through what must have been the girl's clitoris and to which the chain was attached. Jen could not believe what she was seeing. A shudder coursed through her. The girl was desperately trying to keep up, but it was not easy. She had a large gold colored collar around her neck, a gold colored belt around her waist and similar colored cuffs at her knees and ankles. A hobble chain of about 12" ran between her ankle cuffs. From the middle of the hobble a chain extended upwards lifting and actually shortening the reach of the hobble chain. This chain went up behind the girls back. Her hands and arms were not visible but her shoulders appeared to be pulled back.
As this girl moved through the doorway Jen saw that another chain ran from the back of her collar in a slightly downward direction which very quickly exposed a second girl connected by a ring in her clitoris thus tethering her to the collar of the first girl. She was similarly attired and chained. As they moved out and across the floor the coffle eventually became six girls, each one connected by a ring through her delicate flesh to the collar of the girl in front. Soon Jen could see that each girl also had cuffs at her elbows and wrists. The elbow cuffs were joined with less than 3" of gold chain and the wrists cuffs were locked together with the chain from the hobble attached to the wrists. The movement was jerky as it moved back through the coffle and Jen could tell that it was creating substantial discomfort for each of these girls, increasing as they found their place further back in the coffle.
As Jen stared and her mouth opened the fog of her denial dropped away. She didn't need to figure out a way to tell the trainer she wanted out. They already knew that. She and Abby, and most likely the other four girls standing together had been tricked. They had been tricked and they had been captured. They were in trouble, a lot of trouble. It was no longer a matter of communicating and expecting it to be honored. Now it was a matter of escape. Her stomach hurt and she thought she was going to throw up, but she knew if she did she could potentially choke, so she swallowed and did her best to get control over her fear. She had not even called anyone to tell them where she was. Not a soul on earth knew she was across the country, let alone that she was standing with her arms and feet restrained, being trained to be an involuntary pony girl.
She tried to look over at her arms as she poked her fingers at the sheath that had been pulled up and fastened over her arms and hands. She actually found a small space where she could see the tip of one finger extending maybe a quarter of an inch. That was not going to help much. She looked again at the other ponies. The two clearly more experienced ponies seemed indifferent to their nudity as well as to the distress of the others around them. One of them would occasionally look over at the other girls with a somewhat knowing, they will learn, look. Neither of them even paid attention as the coffle of chained slave girls was pulled across the floor and out the door on the far side of the warehouse. Jen did note when the door was open that it went to the outside. That might be useful information later, when she figured out a way to get free of her restraints. It was so frustrating that she was being held in place by something as simple as a single line attached to her bridle.
The girl next to Jen had also watched the parade of chained girls exit the room. After taking a quick look around the room she moved forward and Jen watched as she used the ends of her bit to try to catch and loosen the line wrapped around the hitching post. She paused to look up at Jen then continued. Jen liked the idea and moved forward to try the same. But the cinch on her line was behind the pole and lower down. There was no way she could get any leverage at all. On the other hand, the girl next to her seemed to be making some progress. Jen could see some slack in the line, but when the girl backed up she might gain a few inches but it would tighten the line forcing her to move forward and start all over again.
Jen tried to say "I'll help you." But even Jen couldn't understand what she had said. So she just moved her harnessed head over to where the girl's line was wrapped and started to work on it. She tried to signal with her head for the girl to pull back and take up the slack as Jen created it. She figured out the signal and moved back putting some, but not heavy pressure on the line. It was actually working. They had increased her distance from the pole from the four feet at which she was at first tied to almost eight feet. Only another foot or so and the line should pull completely free. There was a sharp burning pain on Jen's thigh.
Jen was so engrossed in what she was doing that she had not noticed the return of the trainers. This time the whip had made contact with her skin and it set to rest her thought that she did not want to feel it. Now that she had felt it she really didn't want to feel it again. She immediately stopped what she was doing and straightened up.
"Some very clever ponies it seems," her trainer said to the trainer for the other girl. Meanwhile the other girl shrank back to the length of the lead as her trainer unwrapped the balance of it from the pole. She pulled the girl over to the side not even bothering to release her hobble. This almost made her fall over, but she managed to quickly shuffle to the desired spot. The trainer then produced a pair of hospital scissors and began to cut away the clothing of the girl. She cut the shorts up both sides then pulled and tugged them out from under the rather tight fitting belt and crotch strap. She used the same approach to the cotton shirt and sports bra cutting from the bottom up to a strap, then pulling the shirt up above the strap to reveal the cut area and then continuing until she had emerged at her arm. Then she cut the outer sleeve from end to the neck. At this point she was again able to yank the clothing free. All of the ruined clothing went into a pile on the ground.
Jen heard angry huffs and suppressed screams as she looked over to see the same process being employed on Abby. Abby was fighting for all she was worth, but the resistance was little more than symbolic, restrained as she was. Before long her perfectly formed breasts were fully exposed and her crotch was protected only by the wide leather strap of the harness. The skin of her flanks was now fully exposed all the way to her belt. Jen didn't bother to fight as she felt the hands of her trainer strip away her clothes leaving her also naked but for her harness and restraints.
Jen's trainer connected a chain about 5" in length between the loops at the top of her boots, just below her knees, and then removed the hobble. Jen thought of trying to kick her, but could see little to gain from it, besides the new knee hobble pretty well removed that option. The trainer then released her lead from the pole. But before pulling Jen away she reached out and grabbed one of her breasts. She squeezed it lightly then ran her finger over the nipple. "Let's go get these ringed, shall we?" She turned and started to pull on Jen's lead.
"Ringed?" They were going to pierce her. Jen had not even pierced her ears until she was in high school. Even then she couldn't sleep for two days before because she was so frightened. She didn't want anything else pierced. She especially didn't want her nipples pierced. "NO!" She screamed into her bit and she shook her head back and forth.
The trainer actually laughed. "Oh, you will look so pretty with nice rings there. Besides we need something to attach your bells to. Come on." She gave a firm tug on the line and Jen started to move forward after her. Now, for the first time since this started, she could feel tears in her eyes – she knew that there was nothing she could do to stop what was about to happen to her.
They entered through the door the slave coffle had exited. Around the room were a series of cubicles. Each had equipment of some kind. Jen was pulled forward into one that had a padded frame. Using her lead line her trainer pulled her forward until she made contact with the frame. A padded concave bar met her neck, another crossed her chest above her breasts, a third just below them, and the forth at her waist. Each bar had a strap that was wrapped around Jen's body and fastened on the other side holding her tight to the frame yet exposing most of her body. The hobble chain was removed and two concave plates were positioned against each of her thighs and buckled in three places from just below her buttocks to just above her knees. Another curved bar extending up with two small bars from the neck bar accepted Jen's forehead which was then strapped in place holding her head firmly in place. She heard the trainer behind her and then felt small chains attached to her ankles and fastened to rings in the floor. She was as close to motionless as she could ever imagine being.
To her horror the trainer then removed the front portion of the belt that, after the removal of her shorts, was the only thing covering what she considered to be the most private part of her body. When the trainer then examined her sex she felt herself flush with embarrassment and tried to voice her protest.
"You just relax; I'll get a groom in here to clean you up." With that, leaving her sex exposed, the trainer left. Jen was facing into the cubicle so she could not see what was going on behind her. She was thankful that she was not faced the other direction so that everyone who came in could see her. She did not know what else was happening in other parts of the room, but it sounded like other ponies were being brought in and fastened in their own cubicles. Jen twisted and pulled at the new restraints, but every belt held – she was tightly held. There was nothing she could do but stand there and wait for whatever it was they were going to do to her.
Jen heard what sounded like a heavy bucket of water being put down close behind her. She could hear the slosh of the water, but because she could not turn her head she could not see who had arrived. She assumed it was the "groom" the trainer had spoken of. The groom reached between her legs and finished removing the part of the harness that up until a moment ago had covered her sex. It seemed to disappear, being removed from the back of her belt as well. Now her naked rear was fully exposed as well. The groom used a washing mitt to dip into the bucket and then wash Jen's exposed skin, which was quite frankly most of her. She paid special attention between Jen's legs. even intruding up into her anal and vaginal cavity a short distance. This made Jen squeal and squirm, but she could do nothing to escape the hands.
Then the groom came around in front of her and knelt down. The groom was a small, young girl, not well developed, perhaps eighteen, but a young looking eighteen. She was completely naked except for a metal collar that seemed permanently attached to her neck, a similar metal belt and cuffs at her wrists and ankles. Her wrists were joined by a chain that fed through a loop in the front of her belt. Her ankles similarly were chained. The cuffs and chains looked utilitarian. They were not the fancy restraints she had seen earlier on the slave girl coffle. It appeared to Jen that this girl had been in chains for some time because she seemed oblivious to them as if they were normal attire. She did not look up at Jen although Jen tried to make sounds to get her attention. Instead she focused on the task at hand, which was to lather shaving cream on Jen's small triangle of hair between her legs and then go to work with a razor. When she was finished all of the hair had been removed. She cleaned up with the wash mitt and then walked around behind her again. She then wiped Jen down with a soft towel.
Jen's hair was in a pony tail that extended from high on her head. The groom opened the pony tail and without removing the bridle or bit did her best to comb out Jen's hair before putting it back in the pony tail. The groom was not gagged, but she never said a word to Jen the entire time she worked. Even though Jen tried to get her attention she did not acknowledge in any way, she did not even make eye contact. When she was done she collected her supplies and was gone.
Once again Jen was left standing helplessly wondering what would be next. She knew, but could not bring herself to think about that. She had expected a very Goth looking person, heavily tattooed, to arrive. Instead a smart looking blonde wearing a white smock and carrying a tray of instruments walked up in front of her and put the tray down on a table. She then came over to Jen and inspected each of her breasts, squeezing them, poking at the nipples and taking each of them between her thumb and finger. Then she took a device doctors used to look in your ears and nose and looked up each of Jen's nasal passages. When she was done she held Jen's nose between her fingers and moved it back and forth looking in this time without the aid of any instrument. Finally she got down on a knee and poked and prodded at Jen's vagina. Jen felt her take each of her labia in her hands, squeeze them and pull them out one by one. Jen could feel her fingers on her clitoris. This made her jump. Nobody but Jen had ever touched this part of her body, and she always felt guilty when she did, but it was all just matter of business for this woman.
The inspection completed, the woman took a cotton swab, poured something on to it and cleansed each of Jen's nipples. Jen watched in horror then as she picked up something that looked like medical forceps. Using one hand to collect and compress the flesh of Jen's breast at and just behind the nipple she attached the forceps locking then down so that it held Jen's right nipple. The woman then picked up a needle that to Jen at this point looked huge and pushed it through the breast in between the forceps open ends. Jen had expected excruciating pain. It hurt, but not nearly as bad as she had expected. The woman carefully checked the location of the entry and exit hole and then deciding she was satisfied removed the forceps and pulled about a 1" ring through the nipple. Jen had been ringed. Without pausing to even admire her work she then went to work on the other breast. To Jen's surprise this one hurt much more than the other. She was not sure why that was, but it caused her to scream out.
As the woman stepped back Jen now had rings in both nipples. She was so thankful that that was over, but the woman was not picking up her things and leaving. Instead she had picked up another tool that looked like the kind of punch that is used in leather work. Jen screamed into her bit as she realized what was about to happen. She tried to twist her head from side to side. She tried to pull her head back, but it was held tight. The tool was inserted into her nose so that it embraced the septum from each side. Jen could hear the sound of the cartilage give way as the woman punched a hole. This had not hurt a lot, but it was mortifying. She then took another type of tool and connected small metal grommets into the hole in her septum from each side. This would keep the hole open and make it stronger. No ring was attached at this time.
Jen remembered the other inspection conducted by this woman and started to wail. Without the slightest notice the woman returned with her forceps and needles and went to work between Jen's legs. Jen's head was held up so she could not see what was going on, but she could feel it. When the woman was done Jen had three rings on each labia and one behind her clitoris. Only then did the woman collect her tools and leave. Jen had been in such shock at what was happening to her that she had hardly felt these last seven piercings. She was not even exactly sure how many times she had been pierced down there, but she knew it was more than a couple.
Jen's mind was reeling. What had happened? She did not know what time it was, but it has been less than a full day since she and Abby showed up for their new 'fun filled summer job'. She could never even have imagined something like this happening to her. Damn Abby and her impulsiveness. She had gotten then in some dicey situations before, but she had also always been able to talk them out of things. Jen did not think that was going to work this time. With this damn bridle and bit they could not even talk. She worked the bit with her tongue. The flat bar, almost a brank, was the most bothersome. She could push it up with her tongue so long as no one was pulling on her reins, but it was always there and interfered with any intelligible effort to speak.
Jen was so busy feeling sorry for herself that she did not realize that the groom was back. She felt the belts that held her to the frame being removed. The groom replaced the hobble at Jen's knees and then helped her stand up free of the frame. She carefully checked each strap of the harness to make sure it was properly in place. She had not replaced the portion that ran between Jen's legs and she did not do it now. Instead she turned Jen around so she was facing back into the room and then to Jen's horror clipped a lead to Jen's clit ring. Free from the frame Jen could now look down and see what had been done to her. But just as she was trying to see each detail she saw the line go tight and felt the jerk on her clitoris. She almost fell over jumping forward to relieve the sudden pressure. That hurt. It hurt a lot. It also felt so invasive. This was as personal a part of her body as she could think of and these people had put a ring through it and now, apparently, intended to lead her around by it. How could anyone do this to her? How could anyone do this to anyone? But the more immediate concern was that they had, and she was absolutely compelled to quickly shuffle along behind the small girl who was pulling her forward by her most personal region. While her ankles were free she was hobbled at the knees with a five inch line. This made keeping pace difficult. It also made her progress jerky which caused the line to pull and jerk on her most tender and private part. She did not look ahead, but concentrated instead on that damn line doing her best to keep up with it.
After a distance Jen became aware that they were heading down a corridor that had gates about shoulder high on each side. She could sense movement behind some of the gates. The groom stopped at a gate and swung it open. Jen looked around and realized they were in a stable. A stable? Really? This pony thing was really getting out of hand. But when the line jerked at her clitoris she jumped forward in obedience entering her stall. The groom positioned her in the middle of the stall, turned her to face the gate and then clipped a line from each side of her collar to each side of the stall. The lines were anchored low enough on the wall and sufficiently slack to allow her to stand, sit or even lie on the floor, but not to reach either the front, back or either side of the stall.
The floor of the stall was carpeted with a light covering of straw. The walls were too high to see if there was anyone in either stall next to her. She did not see anyone in the stall across, but if they were not standing she would not have seen them. Near Jen on the floor was a pan of water. If Jen knelt she could reach it with her head. Next to that pan was another filled with bite sized pellets of some sort. Jen assumed these were food. Jen was relieved when the groom removed the bridle and bit and hung them on a hook near the front of her stall. Then the groom left, closing and latching the gate. The gate did not have a lock on it, but that didn't matter. Even if Jen was not reined to the sides of the stall she would not have been able to open the stall. Jen resisted saying anything to the groom as she finished her work and left. As before, the groom never even bothered to look into Jen's face.
Jen was very thirsty and a bit hungry. She got to her knees and did her best to suck up water from the bowl. Then she turned her attention to taking some food pellets in her mouth and eating them. They were pretty much flavorless but they helped assuage the hunger pangs. When she was done she knelt there on the floor. She needed to figure out a way to get out of here. Her arms were still strapped and encased behind her. She tried to pull at each one in turn, but there was no movement. She tried to move her hands inside the covering, but she could not find anything with her fingers that could be manipulated. Without someone else's assistance she did not see how she was going to get her arms free.
Never-the-less, if she could get free of the reins and somehow get the door open she could still walk. The hobble had been removed. She followed the lines from her collar over to each wall with her eyes. They were only secured around a cleat and tied off. If she could get to one, without the bit in her mouth she could use her teeth to free it. She tried to move toward the wall. She got within about 12 inches of the cleat before the line from the other wall stopped her progress. By turning her body sidewise she could just brush the cleat with her encased lower arms, but not enough to cause the line to loosen. She tried the opposite wall with the same result. They seemed to know just how long to make the line.
She went back to the middle of the stall and knelt down. She was convinced that they were going to leave her here until morning. Even with a little straw the floor did not look very comfortable, but right now her need was to go to the bathroom. They had not given her a bathroom break the entire time she had been here and right now she really needed to pee. She expected at least a bucket of some sort for this purpose, but there was nothing like that in the stall. She was not going to be able to make it until morning. After she had held about as long as she could she realized that like a real pony she was expected to just go in her stall. The straw wasn't there for her comfort; it was there to soak up her waste. But she wasn't a real pony. She could not sleep standing up. She was going to have to lie on the floor and she didn't want to lie in her own waste. She finally moved as far back and to one side as she could, spread her legs and let it go. She was not accustomed to peeing standing up so a good amount ended up running down the inside of her legs, but there was nothing she could do about that. She was just happy that she had only had to pee, at least for now.
Jen heard sounds outside her stall. She quickly stood and did her best to look over the stall door. She was just in time to see another groom go by leading another pony. It was Abby. Jen could only see her head, and only for a brief moment, but it was definitely her. Her movements were jerky and she heard squeals telling her that the groom was jerking on the lead chain. Abby was throwing her head back and forth. It sounded like she was taken into the stall next to Jen. After what seemed like a long time Jen saw the groom walk back up the corridor. She waited for several minutes thereafter to make sure she was gone.
"Abby?" she called out, not loudly, but enough to be heard. Nothing.
"Abby, is that you?" she tried again.
"Jen?" came the response from her right.
"Abby, are you all right?"
"I am so sorry for getting us into this. I tried to resist them, but they put the whip to me. I could only take it for a short time and then I gave in. I must have really made them mad because they put rings in my sex. They even pierced my clitoris. I can't believe that did that."
"They did the same to me. I think it is just part of what they do."
"We have to get out of here. Can you help me? My arms are completely useless."
"No, I am helpless too. They even have me leashed to the walls of the stall. I tried to release the lines but without luck."
"My God, what are we going to do? I don't think they have any intention of letting us go. We are still in the US now, but what happens if they get us to some island in a foreign country? I think they have a ship in the harbor. If they get us on that ship I think we are in big trouble."
'How much more trouble can we be in?' Jen thought in response, but kept the thought to herself. "We are going to have to keep alert and watch for an opening. If someone can get free and get help these people will go to jail forever for this."
"I need to try to get some rest and think." Jen agreed with this assessment from Abby and said no more. She knelt back down and tried to find a comfortable dry position on the hard floor. Her arms and shoulders ached from being restricted for so many hours. She attempted to shift her arms and pull at them within the limits of her restraints but found no relief from the dull aching. But, she was very tired and at some point in spite of the hard concrete floor, the ache in her arms and shoulders, and waves of fear, panic and near despair that would wash over her she drifted off.
There were noises, the sound of movement and voices, undistinguishable, but voices. It was light. Natural light replaced the electric glow of the night. Jen struggled up to a sitting position and looked at her surroundings. She could see a mark on the floor where her body had been. It was just one of many other marks and stains. She could see the soiled straw where she had relieved herself the night before. The side walls of the stall were wood, painted, very obviously, a long time ago, in a dark grayish color, or maybe it had just become gray with age. There were signs of many years of use and wear. The wood had not been fully protected from insect damage and perhaps the hoofs of earlier occupants with longer and much stronger legs. The surrounding prospect was even drearier than it had appeared when she was ensconced here.
Her water dish was empty and about two thirds of the food product that had been in the other dish was gone. She only vaguely remembered eating and drinking, but she must have. That was good. She was hungry, but the food did not look inviting enough to cause her to return to it. She was thirsty, but there was little she could do about that.
She looked at the stall gate. It cleared the floor at the bottom by at least a foot, but there was nothing to be seen there. It was rounded at the top being slightly higher in the middle than at the bottom. From where she sat the top looked very high, but she already knew that standing it was just below her eye level. It opened out so that the hinges and the latch were on the outside, out of view, and clearly beyond her reach – if she could even get to them. It was sturdy, braced by three two by fours horizontal, two vertical and two more forming an X across the center. Signs of wear to the top and upper braces did not make it look any less sturdy. It was the same dismal gray as the walls. Her bridle and bit hung from a hook by the gate.
She looked down at herself. She was a complete disaster. Her hair was matted and disheveled; dirt from the floor covered her legs and torso; crusted spots on her inner thighs and legs gave evidence to the conditions under which she had been forced to perform normal bodily functions. She needed a hot bath – she needed to get her arms back. The pain had stopped, but as soon as she started to move around and work her way up to a sitting position the ache was back. Then there was the frustration of not being able to use her hands. She twisted and pulled and shook her arms and upper body – nothing – it was just as unforgiving as the day before. She had no arms, no hands. She looked to her right and left at the leashes attached to cleats on the walls. She pulled against the leashes, first one then the other. The clips attached to her collar were not coming loose and neither were the lines from the cleats. She was still helplessly held.
She wanted to call out to Abby and see how she had survived the night but thought better of calling attention to herself. She didn't want to be where she was, but she didn't want to be back under the control or the trainer either. What other horrific things would they do next?
There was a sound at her gate. The bolt on the outside was being slid out of place. Then the door was opened. She looked into the open space with as defiant a look as she could muster in her otherwise pathetic appearance. It was the little blonde groom with her bucket and cleaning glove. Jen's attempt at a stern look faded. This poor girl was just there to perform her required tasks and would probably be punished if she failed in any way. Jen did not want that to happen. Besides, even a sponge bath was inviting right now. Jen had always been fastidious about her personal hygiene. She had gone camping with friends a couple of times and hated the grimy feeling the morning after sleeping in the woods, especially when she knew that no bath or shower was available. But this was worse. The feeling of grime was similar but the sense of helplessness that accompanied along with the feeling of having been abused and degraded was so much more significant. Without prompting she stood and waited for the groom to wash away the dirt and grime from her night. It actually felt good, even when the gloved hand touched and even seemed to explore parts of Jen's body that she did not normally let others touch.
The groom was careful to work around Jen's harness, loosening and lifting the straps one way and then the other to make sure the skin below was cleaned. She removed the outer sleeve covering her arms so she could wash there, but to Jen's great disappointment she did not release the straps holding Jen's arms and wrists. Instead she checked these to make sure they were tight enough but not cutting her circulation. She dried Jen's body with large towels. After cleaning her body she signaled with touches on Jen's shoulders to kneel. Jen did and the groom went to work on her hair. She used the bucket to wet, shampoo, and rinse, then worked with large towels to dry. Her attention never stopped until she felt it was dry enough to start to apply a brush carefully working the full length of every part of it. Finally she gathered it together and pulled it into a pony tail high on the back of Jen's head.
The groom pulled out a plastic bottle of water and held it to Jen's lips. Jen anxiously drank. As she drank she realized just how thirsty she was. She finished most of a bottle of water before it was taken from her lips. Then the groom opened a small kit and began applying make-up to Jen's face and upper body. There was no mirror so Jen could not see, but her impression was that the make-up was understated, designed to enhance her natural look. This was the only time that the groom looked into Jen's face and even then in reality she looked at her face more than looked into her face. There was no sense of human contact. Jen might as well have been a pot that was being painted.
Through this entire process Jen did not say a word and neither did the groom. Without uttering a sound, the groom had communicated that it would not be appropriate or acceptable for Jen to speak so she did not. But even the opportunity was soon gone. The groom fetched the bridle from the hook on the wall and carefully strapped it over Jen's head, adjusting and tightening the straps until she was satisfied. The bit was still in place and was returned to her mouth as soon as the bridle was placed over her head. Jen did not want that hated thing back in her mouth, but she knew there was no choice so she opened her mouth and received it. As she felt the metal of the plate on her tongue she decided she was not going to agree and was not going to have that thing in her mouth. She wildly shook her head back and forth and up and down while pushing at the bit with her tongue. Of course, once in place there was no changing her mind. She quickly gave up on any resistance. The bridle and bit would stay in place until they decided to remove it, or by some miracle she retrieved the use of her hands. That later seemed very unlikely. Now she wished she had tried to talk to Abby this morning. She hoped she would at least see her.
After giving Jen a final check over, checking, tightening, and adjusting the straps of her harness, replacing the cover over her arms, and checking and even spotting her make-up the groom opened another box she had brought with her and Jen heard the tinkling of a bell. The groom withdrew two small silver closed bells, like the kind seen on sleighs at the holidays. Each was about three quarters of an inch in diameter. There must have been a small clip on the end because the groom was able to clip one to each ring in each breast. Jen did not like this. It felt degrading. She looked down at the two bells adorning her ample breasts and did not want them there at all. If her hands had been free she would have pulled them off, but that was not an option. Involuntarily she shook her breasts back and forth trying to dislodge them. This evoked a musical ringing from each bell but neither released its grip or showed any sign of doing so.
Jen could not remove the bells. She stomped her foot in frustration and snorted. The trainers would have laughed at these machinations, but the little groom paid no notice. Instead she returned to the box and withdrew a somewhat larger bell tied to a blue ribbon with two ends extending about eight inches each. The groom knelt down and Jen could feel her feeding the ribbons up through the new rings on each labia. After she had fed it through all three rings on each side she brought the ends together and tied a nice neat bow. Jen could feel the weight of the bells on her breasts, but only barely. This bell was heavier and pulled on a part of her body that should not have anything pulling on it. She could also feel the bell itself resting against the top of her legs as she stood there. As much as she wanted the bells removed from her breasts this one was really over the top. She stood perfectly still staring down at it as if she could will it to vanish. Instead, as she focused on her anatomy where her legs met the hand of the groom came forward with yet another bell, this one about the size of the small ones on her breasts and before she could even turn or twist clipped it to the ring at her clitoris. As with her breasts the weight was not significant, but the idea of having her sex belled was a blow to her sense of dignity.
Jen wondered what was happening in the stall next door. She assumed, correctly as it turned out, that the same thing was happening to Abby. She felt sorry for the groom assigned that task. She was sure that there would have been at least kicks and heroic struggles – interestingly she had heard no sign of commotion. Maybe it was yet to come. Then she heard the tinkle of bells and watched as another groom led Abby down the hallway past the door to her stall. Four bells tinkled and chimed as Abby docilely walked behind her groom as she followed the single rein attached to her bit. As if that were a signal to Jen's groom the reins attached to her collar were unclipped and a new rein was clipped to the ring on her bridle. The groom turned and walked into the hallway between the stalls given the rein a light tug. No more was needed, Jen walked forward, following. She was on an ankle hobble so she had to shuffle along but she did her best to keep up. The shuffling motion created extra jerks and twists that kept her bells chiming. She could see and hear Abby shuffling along not too far ahead.
They exited through a door into the arena. They were each led back toward the hitching post near the employee break area. One other team, the tall, perhaps more experienced blonde ponies, already waited patiently at the bar. As Jen and Abby shuffled toward the post accompanied by the sounds of their bells one of the tall ponies turned and looked at them. Jen saw a smile creep across this pony's face as Jen noticed that they were not belled as she and her partner were. Obviously, even another subdued creature found these adornments demeaning. As she was pulled up and secured to the post next to the smiling pony Jen wanted very much to do something to show her anger. She considered kicking or even biting her, but with her feet hobbled and her mouth bridled neither option was available. All she could do was stare back defiantly.
Before she could give it more thought she realized that her trainer had arrived and was in the process of removing her rein from the post. Abby's trainer had arrived as well and the two of them were led away from the hitching post toward a sulky of some kind. A single seat was set low on a metal frame base over two wire wheels. The seating area was not enclosed, it consisted primarily of the seat itself with a low back and two plates, one level to the ground and the other set at an upward angle, obviously providing a place for the rider to place their feet. To the right of the seat one of the dreaded buggy whips extended vertically, its handle held in a pipe converted to a holder. The sight of the whip caused Jen's stomach to tighten. A single bar protruded forward from below the seat and foot area and then split into two U shaped yokes that now rested on the ground.
Jen was led to the right side, Abby to the left. Each of them was lined up next to each other near the forward part of the two yokes. The trainers then lifted the bar so that a yoke arm came up on each side of each girl. The arms of the yoke had some movement and Jen's trainer quickly attached a bracket on the inside of each yoke arm to each side of Jen's waist harness. She could feel only a slight downward pressure from the weight of the sulky, but there was no one in the seat yet. She wondered what the addition of a rider would add to the weight. (In fact, as Jen would later learn, the seat could be adjusted forward or back over the axle to bring the balance of the yoke almost completely even). A single light chain from the apex of the yoke was then brought forward and clipped to the back of Jen's collar. It did not seem to limit her ability to lean forward. Only then was the hobble chain between her ankles removed.
The trainer then attached a second rein to the other side of Jen's bit and brought both reins back, placing them across a bar just above the foot area and in front of the seat in the sulky. As soon as Abby's trainer finished attaching her to the sulky's yoke she added the second rein, brought it back to the seat area and then climbed into the seat. Jen's trainer worked with a dial on the side of the seat observing the yoke arms until she was comfortable that near perfect balance had been obtained.
Jen felt the slack in the reins tighten then loosen somewhat. It was obvious that the trainer had picked up the reins. If she turned her head in either direction the rein from the other side tightened pulling down on the extension of the bit and putting pressure on her tongue. She looked forward and waited for the signal she knew was coming to move forward. She only hoped it did not come in the form of the bite of the buggy whip. It did not. She felt the reins go up and slap down on her shoulders; this was accompanied by a clicking sound the trainer made with her mouth. Jen knew this meant to go. She leaned forward to begin pulling the sulky, but as Abby had not started at the same time the effect was to jerk Abby forward and jerk Jen back. Then Abby started to move forward, but Jen's motion had been stopped reversing the process that had just happened. It was more difficult than Jen thought it would be. The sulky lurched and jerked pitching and yawing from side to side as the two of them tried to coordinate their efforts.
The sulky was moving, but very slowly. Jen heard the whoosh; she knew the sound and tightened as she heard the pop, but it was accompanied by a squeal from Abby, who had been the recipient. Jen redoubled her efforts and leaned forward trying to pull harder. She leaned too far and the chain at the back of her neck ran out of slack and jerked her back. She missed a step and almost tumbled. The sulky lurched to the right. There was another whoosh and this time the snap and the bite happened simultaneously. It caught her high on her buttocks on the right flank. It hurt, it hurt a lot.
Jen eased off a bit and tried to look to her left to get in sync with Abby. Abby in turn was doing the same thing. Slowly they began to find a rhythm between them and the jerks and lurches became fewer in number. Just as the movement began to feel more natural Jen felt a pull on the right rein. It turned her head to the right and she naturally followed the direction turning her movement and the sulky direction until the pressure on the right rein was let up. With that she straightened away. They had turned about 90 degrees and it had been much smoother than she had expected. Because the turn was to the right Abby had to move more quickly to match pace with the turn, but she had realized the need and adjusted her pace. Only twice during the execution of the turn had Jen felt herself jerked to one side or the other. The first, a jerk to the right, was because she had tried to turn too sharply. She realized she needed to keep in mind Abby's ability to make the larger arc. The second, now to the left, was when Jen over adjusted and slowed her pace too much. 'Not bad for a first turn,' she thought to herself. She was actually proud of their performance.
They were now moving across the narrow part of the room and Jen knew they would have to make another turn soon. She began to anticipate starting to move toward her right. This got her a yank on the left rein and a more persuasive reminder in the form of a strike of the buggy whip on her left flank. She straightened their course back to the left. She would turn when she was signaled to turn and not before. It was not her job to decide where to go. But almost immediately there was a pull on the right rein. It was more the application of pressure and she matched the intensity of the pull turning slowly. There was plenty of room to execute the turn before getting to the wall and this turn was smoother than the last.
As they straightened out Jen realized that she and Abby needed to match their gait and actions for this to work smoothly. She tried to glance down at the movement of Abby's legs and feet, but that did not work very well. Jen became more aware of the discordant cacophony of the bells adorning the bodies of the two girl ponies. She picked and focused on the sound of the larger bell, its ring deeper than the other smaller bells. It rang with the completion of the forward movement of each girl's thigh. Jen concentrated on bringing the sounds of her bell into sync with Abby's. She noticed that as the sounds of the two large bells became one the movement of the sulky smoothed and with the reduction in conflict speed began to increase. Soon there was, with rare exceptions, only the sound of one of the larger bells. This also brought the ringing of the smaller bells into rhythm. Jen's and Abby's build was very similar. Thus, as their legs came into rhythm the bouncing of their breasts also began to match giving a more concordant sound to the smaller bells. The sound was now pleasant.
As they began to near the end of the straightaway with a wall in front of them Jen once again found that she was drifting to her right – the way they would be forced to turn. She was rewarded again with the snap of the whip to her rear. She corrected with a jerk that interrupted the now synchronized movement and caused Abby to jerk back the other direction before they once again found the rhythm, only then to be signaled to execute the right turn Jen had been anticipating. This 90 degree turn was sharper than the two before and not very smooth, but they were able to complete the turn and straighten out without over correction.
Even though they were now on a short leg (crossing the narrow part of the room) Jen held her line perfectly straight until the trainer signaled by use of the reins that it was time to execute the next turn. This turn was much smoother and Jen's flesh was not rewarded with a visit from the tip of the whip.
As they straightened out and began down the long stretch Jen focused again on the sounds of the bells. Little sounds that she had not sensed before began to emerge. She became convinced she could tell the difference between Abby's left leg and right leg movement. She looked down to confirm and it was correct. Either she could tell the difference or she was just lucky. In either event she was able to match her gait with Abby. This brought the tinkle of the breast bells into closer sync. These bells were not heavy, but the effect of them bouncing on the rings through Jen's nipples had an erotic quality to it. This brought Jen's attention to the small bell bouncing on the ring at her clitoris. As they moved up the long stretch of the building and maintained a fairly constant pace this movement began to have an effect of Jen. Her attention focused increasingly on the three small bells each now manipulating a sensitive part of her body. Her nipples had hardened. She wished she could touch herself. She had forgotten that her arms were not available. All she could do was try to enjoy and get the most from the movement of these bells each bouncing on its respective ring through a tender region of her flesh. The tingling feeling was now running throughout her body and she did not want it to stop, in fact she had almost closed her eyes in any event she had lost track of the fact that she was tethered to a sulky that she was now pulling around the confines of what was probably an old warehouse.
Jen's reverie was interrupted by a sound to her right. She glanced over to see another sulky like the one she and Abby were pulling moving up even to them. Harnessed to the yoke of this sulky were the two tall blonde ponies. The one on the left, closest to Jen, gave her a bit of a smirk as they pulled ahead and then past Jen and Abby. But then they were into where they had turned before. The other sulky held its position before turning, causing Jen and Abby to actually slow and move in behind them before they could execute the turn their trainer was now signaling.
As they came out of the turn Jen was close enough to the back of the other sulky to almost reach out and touch the rider – if she had arms and hands to reach out with that is. But the other sulky was moving away from them. Even in the short leg before the next turn the leading sulky picked up another five feet of distance. But by the time they executed and came out of the turn and back into the straightaway the other sulky was almost twenty feet ahead. Jen's trainer seemed to find this positioning unacceptable. She shook the reins up and down urging them on. There was the popping sound of the whip taking only air, then there was the snapping sound of the whip taking flesh and Jen knew that another red stripe would show on her flank. But the trainer did not stop. Back and forth she commenced to lay the whip onto the two ponies pulling her sulky. Even though Jen was feeling winded from the distance she had pulled so far she leaned forward and increased the pace. Abby, obviously anxious to be relieved of the pain to her exposed flesh, matched her gait.
The other sulky was in front, but they began to close the distance. At the urging of her trainer's use of the reins – Jen did not make any change of direction on her own anymore – Jen moved slightly to the right and began to come up on the inside of the other sulky and team. As they went into the turn Jen and Abby were even with the rider of the other sulky, still a good length behind the other team, but their inside position brought them almost even as both teams came out of the turn. Jen was panting deeply now. The gentile sensuous ride of before forgotten, replaced by the need to pass this other team. Jen did not know why it was so important to her, but it was, besides, she did not like them. She did not like their superior air – they were ponies just like her and Abby. She did not like the condescending looks – they had no position to talk. She did not like their hoity attitude – they had not been belled, they had not even always been hobbled at the hitching post.
But Jen had learned to love her bells. She was proud of them and she needed to show that she and Abby were better. Better right now meant faster and smoother. But the other team was very good. They were very tall, maybe only a couple of inches over Jen and Abby, but with very long legs and each of their strides added about 4-6 inches to the strides of Jen and Abby. They were also very strong. Jen could see the muscles in their legs, flanks, and back working as they ran. Neither seemed at all winded (although Jen suspected that they had started a lap behind her and Abby). And, they were clearly more experienced. Although Abby and Jen had learned to work together they had certainly not perfected it and as they tried to pick up speed they would pitch and yaw losing precious speed and energy. Somehow the other team moved effortlessly. It was as if each of the two knew exactly what the other was going to do at all times. There movement was fluid; in fact it was beautiful.
As the other team pulled ahead Jen's trainer once again laid on the whip but Jen and Abby had nothing more to give. They tried to push forward. They tried to even further increase the pace, but the opposite was happening, the pace was beginning to slow and even the encouragement of the bite of the whip did not change that. By the time they reached the end of the straightaway and were signaled into the first leg of the turn the other team had already completed the turn. By the time they exited the second half of the turn the other team was forty to fifty feet ahead. The other team did not appear to be slowing or losing stride. If anything they were even further catching their rhythm and increasing their speed. Jen knew they could never catch them. She had been breathing heavily, but suddenly she was having trouble getting a breath, she could not go on. She slowed to a walk and then stopped. Abby had tried at first to jerk her forward by applying pressure to her side of the yoke, but when one half of the team stopped the entire team stopped. The trainer could easily diagnose the problem and worked the whip only on Jen until Jen started to move forward again, slowly, only at a walk, but when she did the whipping stopped. Jen realized that the trainer knew she could not go on, but needed her to walk it out.
As she walked slowly forward with her head down panting for breath the other sulky and team flew by on their right. This time the other ponies did not even look at them but their smugness dripped from their posture. Jen felt humiliated. They had been soundly beaten by the other team. Jen wondered how long they had been a team. How long would it take her and Abby to perform so smoothly, if ever? After all, this was just their second day of training. Certainly they would get better, a lot better.
But, wait a minute. She didn't want to get better. She didn't want to be here at all. These people had tricked her, they had taken her freedom; they had degraded and dehumanized her. They were determined to turn her into a pony. She had only agreed to play the role of a pony, not become one forever. She needed to stop focusing on being a good pony and start to think about how she was going to get out of this place.
Now moving at a walk around the inside of the building Jen was able to take a better look at her surroundings. She knew that if she was going to escape she needed to start planning, and a good plan required as much information on her surroundings as she could put together. The structure they were in was large. It clearly had once been a warehouse. Judging from the peak of the roof the open area that they were now in covered the entire length of the building and about two thirds of the width. The open area inside would fit a football field with some additional room on all four sides. There was probably a concrete floor, but it was fully covered with a sod or dirt layer. The outer portion was a track, the one she was pulling the sulky around. It was wide enough for two or three sulkies. Inside the ellipse of the track were a number of circular paddocks and several square pens. She had been in one of the paddocks during her training on the first day here. They were defined by the markings on the ground but did not have any sort of fence around them. Two of the paddocks were occupied by ponies working with trainers. It looked like these two ponies were a team. Jen did not know how long they had been here, but they both were doing a good job of lifting their legs high as the trotted around the radius proscribed by the length of the rein the trainer was holding. One of the paddocks had a small tower in the center. From the tower two poles extended about 10 feet in each direction parallel to the ground.
The pens were each enclosed by railed fences. Each pen had a gate on one side. They were all empty at this time. The top rail was about five feet off the ground, high enough to discourage and hold most animals that could not climb. Grimly she realized that at this time that category included both her and Abby.
The three walls of the large room that she believed to be exterior all had windows, but in every case they were high up, at least fifteen feet off the ground. They let in light so you could tell if it was day or night and the general conditions outside, but it afforded no view from outside, nor did it help in determining what the outside was like. The long wall – that is the one she thinks she entered through when she arrived – had large overhead type doors that looked as if they would open to 12 to 14 feet. They all had metal doors that could be wound up with a chain on one end. In every case the door was closed and the chain was padlocked in place. Several of these doors had another smaller door build into them, but each of these were closed and clearly held closed by a padlock.
Near the middle of this wall was a single metal door. She was pretty sure this door opened into the parking area on the dock that she had seen when she arrived. She tried to picture it in her mind and wished she had paid better attention. The door was closed and although there were glass panes in the upper half they were frosted and appeared to be imbedded with wire. She did not expect that they would easily break out. She did not know if the door was locked but she did note that it had a deadbolt and the inside of the deadbolt was not a knob, but instead called for a key. She suspected that the outside was also keyed. Shouldn't a building like this have fire exits? She certainly could see none in the three walls to the exterior. Nor, were there the familiar exit signs that pointed to the required means of emergency escape in the case of a fire. She doubted that this place received many fire marshal inspections. She doubted that anyone in government even knew that there were people in here. When used for the purpose it was build the overhead doors would have been left open and the inside would have been stacked with cargo coming or going over the sea. That would have been in the days before everything moved in containers.
The interior wall appeared to have a small office with a door and a window at the far end. Then there was a long expanse with the single door that she knew led to the stables and other rooms inside and near it another overhead door, also closed and padlocked. Next was an employee break area. It had a door and three large windows. She could see that there were tables and chairs and vending machines on the inside. Just like the break area in most any business. Directly in front of the windows to the break room was the hitching post so that trainers could secure their ponies, take a break, and still be able to see them. Proceeding further down the wall there was a metal stair case that led up to a balcony above the area of the break room. At the top of the stairs there was a door with windows next to it. Further down the wall there was a series of large bay type windows, four of them to be exact. They were obviously for a second floor area and would provide a very good view of the entire interior area. A full set of heavy drapes blocked any look at what might be seen behind.
Jen did not find her inspection of the building to be particularly encouraging. One door to the outside probably locked; one door to an area on the second floor, not a good alternative for an escape from the building; and the door that led to the interior one third of the building including work rooms and the stables. Certainly there were other doors from that part of the building to the outside. She would have to be very vigilant. Her and Abby's escape – she was determined that it had to be both of them – required them to first obtain freedom of movement, a condition she had not been in since shortly after her arrival, and then they would need to escape this building.
She was hopeful that the first challenge would be a matter of someone making a mistake. But she had no idea how she was going to exploit it if and when it happened. She also had no idea how much time they had. She was sure that whatever window of opportunity may exist, it would not be a large one. She doubted they had more than a matter of days or a week at the most before they would be loaded on the ship. As hard as this place was to escape she expected escaping from a ship at sea would be infinitely more difficult. She did not want to consider the prospects once she was delivered to some foreign destination. She would then have to escape not only her bonds and enclosing structures, but whatever corrupt nation or principality in which she found herself. She had read stories of modern day slavery and expected that in such places law enforcement would be more likely to return an escaping slave to their owner than help them obtain freedom. No, they had to figure out how to do it now.
Walking slowly around the track had been easy and allowed her to retreat into her thoughts, but it was to end. The trainer must have believed that the rest was over and it was time to trot or run again. The reins were snapped and the whip popped in the air behind her flesh. Abby received the message as well and the two of them began to move forward very close to the same timing. The sulky pitched just a bit to the left but Abby picked up the pace and they straightened out. As they started to move into a run the trainer applied a backward pressure on the reins and they slowed to a trot. Using the pop of the whip and pressure on the reins the trainer adjusted the pace until she was happy with the gait. Then she eased up on the reins and let them continue forward. It was obvious that she wanted them to maintain this pace.
The hardest part was making the turn. It had actually been easier at a run. Now they found themselves slowing too much and receiving a reminder that did not just pop the air but found flesh. On the backstretch Jen felt they found the pace perfectly, evidenced by the coordinated sound of the bells clinking together. The next turn was easier but still less than perfect and Abby's squeal testified that she had felt the whip. Jen had not. This was not a hard pace to maintain and the trainer had them lap the track three times.
As they came around the turn into the inside straightaway for the third lap the trainer snapped the reins and gave vocal encouragement in the form of something that sounded like: "Yeeha". Jen and Abby, although tired from the trotting, knew what was required and broke into a run. They sensed that there was a finish line some place in the eye of the trainer, but trainers don't share such things with their steeds. Jen only hopped she could hold the pace until the predetermined line had been crossed. But it was Abby that seemed to be having a more difficult time. Jen had heard her panting, but now she seemed to be gasping for breath. Jen expected her to stop, even fall, at any moment.
Then there was a gentle pull on the reins. They had crossed the line, but the pull, while firm, was not sharp and Jen did not think it meant stop, or even walk, she moved back to the trot pace. The sulky lurched to the left as Abby had apparently decided to walk. There was a snap, a squeal and a return of the sulky to a straight direction as Abby returned to a trot. Jen had interpreted the signal correctly. While she may not have liked having to trot, just dropping from the run was enough for her to start to get her breath, and apparently the same for Abby, who although breathing heavily and loudly was no longer gasping and was holding the pace. The trainer kept them at a trot through the bottom turns and up the entire backstretch and then around the top turns before applying another pull on the reins signaling that they could now go to a walk. It was very welcome. As they pulled up in front of the employee break area the trainer turned them to the right and then signaled a stop with a backward pull on the reins. The sulky was at an angle near the front of the break area, but on the other side of the door from the hitching post.
The trainer went to a box near the wall and withdrew two plastic water bottles. Opening the bottle she fed one to Abby and the other to Jen. It was difficult to drink with the bit still in her mouth and a lot of water ran out dripping down her breasts and onto the ground, but Jen was very thirsty and the water tasted very good. When each of them had finished the water from a bottle the trainer discarded the now empty bottles, gave Jen a pat on the flank, and walked into the break room leaving Jen and Abby standing hitched to the sulky. They had been hobbled, but their reins had been wrapped around a bar on the sulky itself so it appeared they had some movement. Hesitantly Jen took a small step forward. There was a lot of resistance. The sulky had been easy to pull before, but now it was not. She took another step, joined by Abby who was watching Jen as Jen looked back at the sulky. The wheels drug forward in the dirt but did not turn. The trainer had obviously set a hand break on the sulky. They could drag it about, but there seemed no purpose in doing that so she stopped and stood still. Her legs ached and she was afraid she was going to cramp so she moved them back and forth as best she could within the confines of her hobble, trying to relax the muscles.
The two ponies from the paddock were brought over by their trainers and hitched to the post. They were watered in the same fashion as Jen and Abby, with the same efficiency. 'You would think they could at least take out the bit for this,' Jen thought. She was pretty sure she recognized one of them as the pony that had tried to escape from the post the day before. While both had visible signs of the correction of the whip the one Jen recognized was a virtual mass of welts. She did not try to get loose today. She just stood there with her head down quietly crying. Her face was streaked with tears. Jen did not know to what degree they were the result of the whipping and to what degree the degradation and desperation of their situation. Jen felt a quiver run through her body. While Jen did pretty well when her mind was focused on the task at hand, moments like this made her stomach knot with fear.
Then the other sulky, the one that had so soundly beaten them in the little mock race, pulled up and stopped between Jen and Abby and the hitching post. Neither pony even seemed to be breathing hard. Their trainer followed the same pattern of watering them, but almost none of it escaped. When she was done she patted each of them on the flank and slipped something from her pocket into each mouth. Jen could not tell what it was, but it was white in color. It was clearly a reward and she could see the self-assured pair triumphantly enjoying their treat and their recognition. Once again they were not hobbled. Why bother, these preening little peacocks looked as though they could not be happier. Jen hated them. She wanted another go at them. Right now, as much as she wanted to get out of this place she wanted to beat them even more. She wondered what the outcome of another race would be. Maybe tomorrow, but she also realized that both she and Abby were going to be very sore tomorrow even if they were not pushed for the rest of the day. 'Unlikely that,' she thought.
It seemed like the ponies were left waiting outside the break area for a very long time, but eventually Jen's and Abby's trainers came out together. While Abby's trainer removed the hobbles from each of them Jen's trainer climbed into the sulky made a quick adjustment of the seat, and then took the reins. Then she gave a slight pull to the right and a brief shake on the reins indicating that they should go. Jen began to angle back toward the track with Abby matching her movement. They were guided back to the left causing them to straighten out onto the track. Then with another shake of the reins the trainer indicated they should increase their speed. Very close to simultaneously they moved up to the trot speed they had learned during the morning. Within seconds the sound of the bells indicated that they had fallen into a matching gait. When they were in step pulling the sulky was very easy. It was as if it weighed almost nothing even though the combined weight of the sulky and its rider must have been a couple of hundred pounds.
The trot was only maintained for a short period before the trainer signaled for them to slow to a walk, then, soon back to a trot and even up to a run. They lapped around the track several times practicing changing pace. Run to trot was the roughest and always seemed to be accompanied by some pitching and yawing of the sulky before the two of them were able to match the timing of the transition. This became the focal point of their training for another full lap. At one point Jen heard a noise behind her while they were in a trot and the team who had beaten them earlier came by in full run. Jen wanted to catch them and beat them, she found herself beginning to lurch and pull forward to increase the pace, but a snap of the whip on her buttocks and pressure on her reins communicated that there would not be a race now. For now they were to practice changing gaits. Before being allowed to run again they were even pulled to a walk. By the time they went back to a trot and then to a run the other team was well away from them. But, they were getting the feel of things and transitions were becoming smoother. Then they were put in a trot and held at that pace for a complete lap of the track. The team that Jen now perceived as her arch rivals came by again at a run lapping them. But this time Jen held the pace perfectly. It appeared that the other team was doing full laps at a run but what irritated Jen most is that they did not even appear to be winded while she and Abby were breathing heavily and she was not sure how long she could even hold this pace.
As they came around the far turns and started down the straightaway near the building interior Jen could see Abby's trainer waiting in the track ahead. As they got closer they were brought to a walk and then a stop in front of her. She stepped forward and took Abby's reins in her hand, then without letting them go she released Abby from the yoke of the sulky. Jen's trainer exited the sulky, came to the front and repeated the process with Jen, putting the yoke of the sulky back onto the ground. They were both watered again, and then with Abby's trainer walking in front leading Abby and Jen's trainer following with Jen in trail they walked toward the paddock that Jen had seen with the tower affair in the center. The Tower was only eight to ten feet tall and Jen could see that the poles extending from it could be adjusted to change their height from the ground. Abby and Jen were each led to one of the poles and faced toward the end so that they each faced in a counter-clockwise direction in the circle of the paddock. There was a metal ring in the end of the pole and Jen's trainer pulled both of Jen's reins forward and attached them to the ring giving her only about two feet of lead between her head and the pole. Although Abby was on the far side of the paddock and was separated from Jen by the tower it appeared that the same thing was happening on that end as well.
When the trainers had finished their work they moved out of the paddock and Jen heard a motor come on. The pole in front of her started to move forward and she was compelled to follow as is subscribed a circle. The pace was slow, a walk. Jen wondered what the purpose of this training was. They had been doing fine walking on the track. Jen's trainer was walking at her side and kept hitting the back of her thighs with the firm part of the whip as she stepped forward. It made no sense and Jen just kept walking in the circle. The trainer said nothing to her. If she wanted her to do something why not just tell her? She was very tired and this was silly. The trainer did not seem happy. She walked away and soon the device stopped turning. Jen looked over toward Abby and tried to shrug, but she could not get a clear view of her. The trainer had gone over to a box near one side of the paddock and was talking with the other trainer.
In a minute the trainer returned holding some type of small metal frame. She brought it around in front of Jen and attached arms of the frame to each side of her belt. Then holding it level to the ground so that the frame extended in front of Jen by about 20 inches she connected two lines from the forward corners to each side of Jen's collar. The frame was made up of two bars connected to her belt, these spread outward to a bar in front. Below the front bar a very light plastic-looking bar connected with a number of loose wires so that it hung below the front bar. At the center of the front bar was a black plastic box only about an inch thick, 3 inches to one side and 4 to the other. It had a number of knobs and lights. Right now there was a green light lit. The trainer then took three wires from the box, each one with an alligator clip on the end and clipped each of them to the rings at Jen's nipples and the ring at her clitoris. Jen did not know what they were for, but she was pretty sure she was not going to like it. When the trainer seemed satisfied she pushed a button on the box and the light turned from green to red. Then she adjusted a knob and pushed another button. There was a sharp electrical shock that suddenly surged through Jen's nipples and clitoris. Jen was caught completely by surprise and she shrieked and jumped. She was right, she did not like this. She did not like it at all and she did not want any more of it. But what was it for? What did they want?
"What do you want me to do?" Jen tried to say through the bit, but if the trainer understood her query she ignored it, she gently patted Jen's flank and walked back away from her. A squeal from the other side of the tower told her that Abby had been similarly attired.
Then the tower device started up again. Jen, caught by surprise, stumbled forward. As her foot hit the ground the shock surged through her sensitive body parts, then the next foot and a similar shock. But before her third step the trainer used the tip of the whip to touch upward on the extension below the forward bar – no shock. Jen got the idea with her next step she lifted her knee to touch the bar – again no shock. If she lifted her leg high enough with each step there were be no shock. If she was short as she was with the fifth step there was a shock. For God's sake, all they had to do was tell her to lift her legs with each step, they did not need this torture device! But it was not easy. In order to reach the bar she needed to raise her knee with each step so that her upper leg was roughly parallel with the ground. Not so easy. Her legs were already tired. It seemed like they weighed a hundred pounds each. But she really had no choice; every time she missed the bar she got a shock. And the pole kept pulling her forward. Once she had tried to stop. The pole did not look that strong, but it was stronger than her. There was about a half a second while her reins tightened then she was jerked forward as the bit pulled painfully in her mouth. She had to stumble forward in a series of short steps to catch her balance. This, of course, was rewarded with a series of shocks as each foot hit the ground. She was not sure how the device read her footfalls, but it did not miss a one. She would not try that again.
As she moved around in circles following the pole in front of her and lifting her knees as high as she could her trainer walked next to her. Now the trainer began tapping the top of her knee when she raised it. Abby assumed this meant she was raising her knee too high, but she wanted to make sure she hit the bar to prevent the shock. If that meant raising her leg too high, so be it. The trainer reached forward to the black box and flipped a small switch. This time, when Abby's knee hit and lifted the bar, there was a terrific shock to her clitoris. Damn it, that wasn't fair. Her next knee fell short and her nipples received the shock when her foot hit the ground. The next leg touched the bar put barely lifted it from its position. That was the ticket – no shock. Jen had to focus on controlling the lift of her leg. She did not know what the tolerance was on the height of the lift, but it was not much. The frequency of shocks, both to her clitoris and to her nipples, increased dramatically as she worked to control the exact step and range. Her legs felt like they were going to fail her at any minute, but she kept going and her rhythm was getting better. There were still shocks, but now very few.
It seemed like forever before the device was shut down. Jen could only stand in place and pant to get her breath. Mercifully her trainer removed the torturous training device and returned it to the box at the side of the paddock from which it had come. Jen was then removed from the pole and led to one of the pens. The trainer opened the gate, guided her inside, attached her hobble, removed her reins and then closed and latched the gate. Naturally the gate latched on the outside. She was soon joined by Abby. Abby looked completely exhausted. She headed straight for what looked like a bale of hay and fell down on it. Jen followed over and sat down next to her. She leaned her head on Abby's leg. It was the first time they had touched since they got here. It was the most freedom they had had since they were first secured in their pony attire. It was the first time they were not actually attached to something and could actually reach each other. Was this a chance?
Jen carefully examined the hobble. It had a clip on each end that fastened to the ring on her ankles, but the clip was in the fashion of a part of the fastening ring that had to be pulled up the ring before it could be removed from the ring. A simple task with the use of a hand, but without hands it was an impenetrable barrier. But, even hobbled she could walk. If she could get to the door could she get outside? She knew they were near a port. How far would she have to go to find help? She could see the door to the outside, but right now she was locked in a stupid animal pen. Under normal circumstances she could have been over the side in about three seconds. She got up and went to one of the fences. There was not enough space in between the logs to squeeze through. It was either over the top or out the gate. The top of the fence was about even with her chin. She wondered if she could use her chin for leverage on the top and then work her way up the inside with her feet. She pushed against the fence and lifted her foot as high as it would go. Her toe came even with the middle of the first log. To get any purchase she would need to get a foot on top of that log. That was about 6 inches more than her hobble would allow. She thought of trying to jump against it and then wiggle up, but without arms to hold on with she would just fall back inside. Climbing seemed unlikely.
Jen moved to the gate. The top was a little lower than the fence, up to her neck; she could put her head over the top. Both the hinges and the latch were on the outside. She pushed against it with her body. It was sturdy. Not going anywhere. She looked over the top and saw the latch. Not a latch, but a bolt almost two feet below the top of the gate. It had been slid into a receiving metal loop on the gate post but then the handle of the bolt itself was lowered down over a flange. It allowed a padlock to be used to lock the gate, but there was no padlock. Didn't really matter, if she was on the bolt side of the gate she could try to use her mouth and head to lift the bolt and then move it so that it disengaged. From her side of the gate there might as well have been a padlock on it. She could not reach it let alone manipulate it in any way.
She felt frustrated and helpless. She could look around the inside of the building, but until someone decided to open the gate she was just a penned pony. She was not going anywhere. She twisted and pulled at her arms and hands. She had not done that in a long time. Maybe something had loosened. Maybe there would be some slack she had not found before. Maybe she would be able to get a hand out and find escape. There was nothing. She was just as well held as when the restraints were buckled onto her arms. She thought back about that now. She had just stood there as they had buckled the straps over her upper arms and then she had not even attempted to resist when her arms were lifted and strapped behind her back. Why had she not fought back? If only she could do that over. She would fight like a wildcat to keep her freedom. But she had not fought. She had stood there reactionless while her freedom was removed and she was converted to an animal possession. She kicked the gate. With the limited movement allowed by the hobble it didn't even make a mark on the door.
Jen returned to where Abby was lying on the ground. Maybe she could use her mouth to release Abby's arms. She could see that the pouch that covered her arms had four buckles, two at the top and one on each side. She could not see how it attached at the bottom. The closest buckle to her was the one at Abby's left back on the upper portion of the pouch. Jen knelt down and tried to maneuver the strap with her mouth and tongue. But with the bit in her mouth she could not use her teeth together and it was difficult to even get her tongue out of her mouth very far. She tried to open the buckle but was not even able to get the strap end out of the loop after the buckle. How would she ever apply enough upward pressure to open the buckle – four times – before attempting to release the hands and arms? But then Abby, perhaps curious about what was going on rolled over facing Jen.
Jen said: "I was trying to undo you." But Abby only shook her head in frustration; she clearly had no idea what Jen had tried to communicate. Just then the gate opened and two more ponies were led into the pen, hobbled, and left. Jen heard the sound of the bolt closing on the outside of the pen. It was the other two newer arrivals. Again, they were a matched pair. They were shorter than Jen and Abby and both had brown hair. While they had fairly ample breasts neither of these two seemed in very good shape. Jen considered herself well conditioned and today's workout had just about killed her. These two must be really suffering. One of them stood by the gate just staring at Jen and Abby. The other one was rapidly looking about as if hoping to find some means of escape of someone to help. The remains of make-up was completely smeared and her face was wet from crying. Her breath was labored. She tried to say something but Jen had no idea what and really was not of a mind for trying to figure it out. Instead she just turned her head away from them and lay down next to Abby. It felt good just to get some rest.
Jen's rest was disturbed by the sound of the gate opening. Wondering if her nemesis team was arriving she looked to the door. It was a single trainer. She walked over to Jen and Abby and signaled for them to get up by pulling on their bridles. They did. When they were both on their feet she attached a light line about 6 feet long to Abby's bit. Turning Jen so that her back was to Abby she brought the line over her shoulder and attached the other end to Jen's bit. Then she attached another line to Jen's bit and positioned the next of the pen's occupants to receive it over her shoulder from behind to the bit, all on the right sides of their heads. With the process repeated until they made up a string of four ponies. Jen did not like her position in the string. She would have rather been on the front or back. Where she was she was subject to being pulled from the front and the back. But there was little she could do but stand in line and wait. She assumed the trainer would now remove their hobbles, but that was not to happen. Instead she heard the sound of a line moving and a snort from the front pony of the string as she began to shuffle forward, this in turn connected with the second, Jen, not wanting to be jerked forward, prepared herself to move forward as soon as she saw the line tighten. It did not completely save her because Abby had not anticipated as well and as Jen moved forward the line from Abby to Jen pulled her back causing a jerk from in front before letting her move forward. Jen did not think she could have invented anything to make her feel more humiliated than what she felt shuffling across the field in a string of hobbled ponies to the interior door.
As they were brought through the door four grooms waited. Jen wondered if the grooms were not allowed outside in the training area. She did not think she had seen a groom out there. Mercifully the grooms replaced their reins and after they were removed from the string took each tired pony to its stall. In her stall Jen was faced toward the front and then fastened to the two walls in the same fashion as the night before but now with her back to the gate. As before Jen's bit and bridle were removed and hung from their hook. Before washing her down her groom removed her boots, and massaged her feet, calves and legs. This felt very good, but she could tell she would be sore and stiff tomorrow. That fact might make tomorrow a very difficult day. With a bucket of water and a hand mitt the groom carefully washed away the days sweat and grime from Jen's body. The groom did not put the boots back on Jen's feet. Instead, after rubbing her with an ointment she carefully wrapped her feet and legs all the way to her knees in soft white cotton. Then she turned Jen around facing the door, reconnected the lines to the wall and left.
Jen could see her water and feed bowl on the floor. She realized that she had had nothing to eat all day and that she was very hungry. She usually ate two to three meals a day. As she dropped to her knees and leaned forward into the bowl she doubted there would be anything left of the food today, no matter what it tasted like. Actually it was not awful. Cut into bit sized squares she could easily eat without the use of hands, the squares had a slight maple taste as if syrup had been used in its preparation. They were moist but not messy. Halfway through the bowl Jen transferred to her water bowl and drank for what seemed like a long time. She wanted to rest, she wanted to sleep, but her hunger had not been satisfied and she returned instead to her food. This time she stayed with it until it was gone.
As the night before she needed to empty her bladder. She had seen several other ponies do it out on the track when they were just standing, but she had not, and did not want to relieve herself in front of others. She wondered how long that feeling would last. Here she was squatting only a few feet from where she would sleep. At least if she did it out there she wouldn't have to worry about accidentally rolling in her mess. Moving within the confines of her reins she managed to keep the puddle at distance from where she planned to sleep. This night she did not even check the reach of the reins. She was pretty sure she could not get to them and even if she could she could not get out of the stall.
After she settled onto the ground she softly called out to Abby. "Abby, how are you doing?"
"Very tired and sore," came the response.
"Any thoughts on how we can get out of here?" Jen asked hopefully.
"I'm afraid they've got us good. I am so sorry for getting you into this, Jen."
"Don't give up. We will figure out something. This is the twenty first century, they can't get away with this. Even if we can't get out someone will find out. We will be rescued. I am sure of it."
"I certainly hope you are right. I don't want to spend the rest of my days as a pony. I never much liked horses in the first place. I don't want to be one."
"Indeed – indeed," was all Jen could think to add. They both stopped talking and were very quickly asleep.
The morning, daily, and evening routine for the next two days followed closely the events of this first full day as a pony. She and Abby were awakened by their groom who washed them and saw to their tack before delivering them to the trainer.
The daily training had a morning and afternoon session. There were breaks as one might expect, including what appeared to be a lunch break, but ponies did not get to enjoy these. They were watered at breaks (and other times if a trainer felt appropriate) but when the trainers went to the break room ponies were left either hitched to a sulky or reined to the hitching post, almost always hobbled. They would be worked as individuals on the paddocks or the circular trainer with a lead line. They would be connected either as individuals or a team to a sulky. They were taught maintaining proper form, moving at different gait, transition from gait to gait, developing speed in the run, synchronizing with another pony, and understanding and obeying commands – both verbal and through the reins. They learned how to raise their knees to just the right height when walking. There was no question of not doing what was commanded. Jen had given some thought to just refusing to obey, but she knew her flesh would succumb to the pain they would inflict upon her long before they gave up their expectations. Her only real option was compliance – whether she liked it or not.
On the third full day Jen found herself again in the paddock with the circular bar. She had trained in this paddock the day before and as she was connected to the rotating pole she had been terrified that the trainer would use the electrical training device, but to Jen's relief she had not. As a result she was not overly apprehensive when she was connected to the moving bar this day. But when the trainer walked to the box holding the dreaded device Jen panicked. She twisted and pulled at the lines connecting her bit to the bar. She tried to scream "NO" and other protestations but it sounded more like snorting. Before going to the box the trainer had connected Jen's hobble and this action had become so normal that she gave it no second thought until right now. She tried to kick with her feet but only threatened to lose her balance.
As the trainer approached her with the device she tried her best to twist away, to jump up and down, and to do anything to keep that thing from being attached to her. The trainer set it on the ground for a moment, gently took hold of the left side strap of Jen's bridle and with the other hand stroked her hair while making soothing sounds. The attitude of the trainer helped and Jen started to feel herself calming. Soon she was no longer jumping and twisting. She was looking into the eyes of her trainer and felt some comfort from those warm gray eyes. The eyes said Jen should trust her. The eyes said she would look out for Jen. Their eye lock continued for a time before the trainer, without breaking eye contact reached down and picked up the device, swung it into place and quickly connected it to Jen. It was in place and connected before it even registered with Jen. Once again Jen jumped and twisted shaking her body to dislodge this evil thing from her person. The trainer stood for a few moments letting Jen work through her fear. Finally Jen realized that there was nothing she could do to get it off. She stopped jumping about. It then took only a couple of seconds for the trainer to finish connecting the hated wires, activate the electrical box, and check it (of course) with a shot of electricity through Jen's nipples and clitoris.
In the end it was not quite as bad as Jen had remembered – or she had gotten a lot better at achieving proper form. She was shocked, but not a great deal and it did not seem to hurt as much as the first day. Had she become more resistant to the pain or had the trainer turned down the juice? Jen did not know which, but happily accepted either. Still, she never wanted to endure this thing again, but knowing that she could not prevent its use if the trainer saw fit she vowed to make sure that her leg positions at the walk were nothing less than perfect – all of the time.
At the end of each day they returned to their stall to be met by their groom who would then carefully care for them removing and/or loosening their tack and cleaning away the accumulated grim of the day. The evening wash was only a light wash, their primary cleaning was done in the morning, but the evening routine included massaging their legs and shoulders. Jen found herself looking forward to that. She had been sore the second full day, she was feeling sore and a little stiff this third full day, and she was fearful she would be even stiffer tomorrow. They were only fed at night; the food looked the same, brownish gray cubes, but it seemed to have slightly different flavors from day to day. She was glad there was at least some variety. She was always hungry enough after a full day of training with no food to wolf down whatever they gave her.
Jen had tried to initiate some conversation with her groom but had stopped when she was shushed. She would talk to Abby each evening, just to make sure she was there and they were together. It was never for long as they were always tired and fell asleep quickly. Occasionally she thought she heard soft crying on the other side of the wall, but she never commented on it. They avoided talking about their life before although they both assured the other they were going to figure a way to escape. Big hopes, but Jen had not been able to develop anything that even felt like a plan. The security seemed very good. She was not going to be able to get out of her restraints, her stall, or the building by herself. She did not know where that help was going to come from, but she knew she had to be ready for any opportunity. She tried to convince herself that if she waited and was patient something would come along. She had to keep her spirits up and be ready.
It was morning. Jen could hear sounds around her and then her stall door was opened. Her groom entered and Jen was shocked to see a series of bright red stripes marking the back of her thighs and her buttocks. The stripes were raised welts, bright red on the edges, dark red on the center line of each welt, and spotted with purple marks that rose even above the welts. Jen sat up.
"For God sake, what have they done to you?" exclaimed Jen.
"I can't talk to you, you are a pony. I am not allowed to talk to ponies. Ponies don't talk." The groom looked into her face. It was the first time their eyes had met. Jen saw tears forming in the corners of large green eyes. Jen had not noticed before, but the groom's eyes were large, a light green that almost looked florescent, but soft and warm – at least they were today.
"They can't do that to you. Why on earth were you beaten?" Jen continued ignoring the admonition not to engage in conversation.
"My stalls didn't pass inspection. I received ten strokes of the cane. It hurts a lot, especially the next day, but it could have been a lot worse. I have seen slaves receive forty or fifty strokes." The groom seemed to have forgotten her admonition. Maybe there was something in the tone of Jen's voice that drew her out.
"It's not right to have slaves and it's certainly not right to beat people. They should be arrested." Jen stared back into the grooms eyes and added: "How long have you been here?"
The grooms eyes closed and her head dipped. "It is hard to gage time, but I think I have been here about four weeks. It is not fair; I don't want to be here. I am not a prized pony like you; I didn't agree to come here; I was taken against my will and am held as a slave in this horrible place."
"I assure you I don't want to be here either. My roommate and I thought we were coming to work at a resort. We did not know we were going to be captured, restrained and treated as animals."
"But you came here willingly. You signed a contract."
"That is true, but we were tricked. We thought it was a job. I have been trying to get away, but how can I when my arms are secured and I am always leashed and locked up?" Jen paused and made sure she had the groom's full attention. "Look, if we work together maybe we can escape."
"Do you see this collar around my neck? It has a GPS device so they always know where I am. Even worse, it is somehow electrified. If I step outside the areas in which I am allowed it will send out an alarm and disable me with electricity. They locked it on and then they soldered the key hole. I am a slave and I can't do anything about it. I must obey them to avoid punishment. At night I am locked in a cage with the other slaves unless I have some night duties. I have to do whatever they want no matter how disgusting or degrading and if I am not completely pleasing it is very bad."
"How did you get here? Did they trick you as well?"
"Well in a way. A couple of months ago I received an e-mail that I had qualified for some financial assistance for my sophomore year. That was great news, I thought. I was getting by, but just barely. With study and my job I had no time for any social life and was only getting about five hours sleep a night. I of course responded that I did want the assistance. I was given an appointment time at an office building downtown.
"It was a bit strange, because I arrived about fifteen minutes early. There was a buzzer on the door and when I rang it I was told that I was early and I should come back in fifteen minutes. I thought I heard some strange sounds in the background, but I didn't give it more than a quick second thought. I went to the coffee shop downstairs in the building, had a cup of coffee, and was back at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, right on the dot of my appointment. This time when I buzzed the door opened. I entered a reception area. Once more I thought it was odd; there were at least three chairs in the reception area but they had not allowed me to come in and wait when I was early. The receptionist asked to see my student ID, and then she pushed a button on her desk. The only other door in the room opened and a tall muscular blond woman came out. She introduced herself to me and asked me to follow her into the next room.
"Like the reception area this was a room with no windows. There were no chairs in this room. There was a table against the wall and another woman was waiting inside. She was brunette, not as tall as the other woman, but she also looked like a fitness freak. Both of them had better muscle definition than any boy I have ever dated. They told me they needed to take a picture. I was told to take off my jacket and my boots so they could get a measurement of height. That seemed a strange request for financial assistance, but there was a strip on the wall marked with heights in inches. I don't know why that made it seem alright, but it did. I felt like I was getting my mug shot taken, but I did what they said. One of them stood next to me and posed me first facing the camera and then, the profile shot. The brunette turned me for the profile so that my back was to her.
"As soon as the shot was snapped she said to hold still and she reached out and took both of my wrists. The table was just ahead of where I was standing. She pushed me forward with her body while she held my wrists, causing me to go face down on the table. I tried to scream, but before I could get much of a sound out the blonde had her hand across my face and was pushing something into my mouth. I tried to twist my head around, but it did no good. It felt like soft cloth in my mouth. But then there was something else held over the outside of my mouth and lips and I felt something being fastened behind my head. When she let go I tried to spit the cloth out of my mouth but it was being held in place by something. I tried to break free of the grip of the other woman, but she was way too strong. After my mouth was covered the blonde came over behind me and started to wrap rope around my elbows while the brunette continued to hold my wrists. She had not pulled my elbows right together, but close enough to be uncomfortable. I don't know how many times she wrapped the rope around them, but when she finally tied off the knot my arms were all but useless. They let me go for a second and I tried to reach whatever was covering my mouth, but with my elbows tied behind me I could not reach my mouth. I decided I needed to get out of there and I lurched toward the door, but they caught me before I got there. This time the blonde stood behind me holding me by the arm while the brunette produced a large set of shears and started to cut away my clothing. I tried to scream and twist but it didn't even slow them down. It was only a matter of minutes before I was completely naked. To say I was terrified is an understatement. I could not understand how something like this could be happening."
"After they had removed my clothing the brunette held me from in front while the blonde returned to the ropes. She tied another rope to the ropes at my elbows, ran this around my chest under my breasts a couple of times, then a couple of times above the breasts, and then after she had tied another knot between my elbows she ran the rope over my shoulder, and down to the ropes above and below my breasts. She cinched those ropes together and then returned the rope over the other my shoulder to be secured at my elbows. I knew I was finished and pretty much gave up fighting at that point. I tried to beg and plead, but my mouth was stuffed and very little sound came out, none of it recognizable. But they were not done with me. They tied my wrists, and then they tied my knees and my ankles. Then holding me by either side they hopped me to the other door in the room.
"One of them opened the door and my legs went weak. It was a carpeted room with no furniture that I could see, but lying on the floor near each wall were three other girls. Each of them was lying on her stomach with her legs pulled up to her hands. I could see that ropes attached their ankles in that position. None of them could see me. They each had a black leather hood fully covering their face. There were some rings attached to each of the three walls and each of the girls had a rope from her neck to a ring in the wall she was next to. Even as small as the room was the rope holding them to the wall was so short even their legs would not touch. There was nothing any girl could do to try to help any of the others. We were all on our own. They were all holding perfectly still and there was no sound from any of them other than their breathing.
"I saw an unoccupied ring in the fourth wall and knew what was for me. But first they produced a black leather hood just like the other girls were wearing. It had no eye holes, two nostril holes and a zipper at the mouth. But for the fact that there were no eye holes it looked like something I had seen on horror movies worn by the evil killer. I knew its function for me would be quite different. They removed whatever was covering my mouth, but did not remove the material that had been stuffed in there. Quickly before I could spit anything out of my mouth they pulled the hood over my head. As they pulled it on I could tell that it had padding at the eyes, the mouth, and at the ears. It was tight, and seemed to have laces that pulled it even tighter.
"I was laid on the floor and to my horror felt something being pushed into me in front. I had used a vibrator on myself before, but I had never had anything pushed inside me before. But then they rolled me onto my stomach and I felt something invading my rectum. I did try to fight back at that, but with one of them sitting on my legs and the other across my back it was useless. They even made it worse by laughing. After whatever they had inserted was in one of them tied another rope around my wrists and pulled it between my legs and up to the ropes between my breasts holding whatever they had inserted tightly in place. It seemed like they were doing something with some wires, bringing them forward from these two devices up, under the ropes at my breasts and plugging them into something in the hood. Then the hood's mouth was unzipped and the packing in my mouth removed and then it was re-zipped."
"I suggest you stay quiet and hear what we tell you," one of them told me.
"'What are you . . . 'I started to say when the most horrible shock ran through my pussy and ass."
"I told you not to speak," said the voice. "You will learn to be an obedient slave in time, but it may be a painful trip. The hood has a sound activator connected to the electrodes we inserted in you. Surrounding sounds will not set them off unless they are quit loud, but almost any sound you utter will. The louder your sound the greater she shock. It allows us to leave your mouth unpacked and reduce the chance of your choking to death. Dead slaves are not worth much. You and your friends here are now slaves. You are being sold to fill a contract. What your tasks will be as slaves is completely up to your new masters and mistresses, but you will do whatever it is they tell you to do. From this day forward your only mission in life is to please every whim, desire, and directive of your owners. Nod your head if you understand."
"I understood, but I did not accept it. I shook my head back and forth as hard as I could."
There was a laugh then: "You will my dear. Believe me – you will."
"With that I felt a rope circle my neck and knew I was being fastened to the ring. Then I felt a rope attached to the cinch at my ankles. My legs were folded up and one of the women leaned on them while the other tied the new rope off at my elbows. The effect was that my feet were pushed up against my hands, which were in turn pulled down into my ass. When they finally got off of me I tried to twist and pull at the ropes, but I could not reach anything and they were very tight. I thought I heard the door close and assumed we were alone. I knew that there were three other girls in the room, but I could not see them; I could not touch them – so I could not try to help them; they could not help me; and they were not saying anything – of course, neither was I.
"I don't know how long we were left there like that. I have never been tied up before – well, not tied up like that before – but it seemed like a very long time. Eventually I heard sounds in the room. I felt hands lifting me from the floor and putting me in some kind of container. The lifting and moving had no impact on the voice activator in my hood, but as they were putting me in the container they brushed the front of my hood against the side and a sharp shock hit me. I responded with a squeal that gave me another shock. I was still hogtied as they put me in what I was sure was a shipping container and even fastened additional straps across my body to hold me inside. I was terribly uncomfortable and did not want to stay in that position, I tried to jerk and pull at the ropes as they secured me, but it did no good. I would stay hogtied. And although I was not gagged, I would stay quiet. And I did stay hogtied until they got me here. And I stayed quiet, for the most part. I found that even twisting about could get me shocked if I started to breath to heavily. Again, I don't know how long it took. I did doze off a little, and I could tell there was movement, but I don't even know how far they took me. I don't even know where we are. I am not allowed outside."
Jen was surprised at the detail of the description. It seemed that once the groom started talking she couldn't stop reliving the experience. After a brief pause Jen answered. "We are in Southern California."
"Oh my God. They took me clear across the country."
"But it is worse. They are planning to take us to some island resort. I think it is in another country. If they get us there I think we are in big trouble." Jen looked carefully at the little groom as she spoke. She needed very much to enlist her help.
Her eyes got big again. "That makes some of what I have heard. I was wondering where the other parts of the facility that I was hearing about were." She started to cry again. "I don't like being a slave. I want my life back. This has been just so horrible."
"We have to escape before they take us to that island." Jen looked into her face to make her point.
"I told you I can't. If I even step outside my assigned area alarms will go off and I will be disabled." She started sobbing. "We are doomed."
"Maybe not, if I can get out of here I can go for help, bring the authorities and have these maniacs arrested. I can't do it alone, but you can help me. Undo my arms and help me get out of here."
"I can remove the pouch on your arms, but the individual straps underneath are locked. I don't have a key for that. And I don't know the way out. I only know the areas I am allowed to be in. I have some idea where the way out might be, but I don't know who or what might be nearby. Their punishment is very severe and mercilessly applied. I am too afraid of them." She turned her head away from Jen and dropped her chin. "It is useless."
"These locks can't be very big. Maybe we can break them off. Do you have access to any tools?"
"Not really. There are three locks on your arms under the pouch. And there are locks on many of the buckles of the harness."
"We don't need to take the harness off, just free my hands."
"Ok, I'll try, but we can't do it now. There will be too many people around right now. Let's get you ready for the day and I will see if I can find something to break the locks at the end of the day when I am suppose to be putting you to rest. Then after everyone goes to sleep you can sneak out."
"That is a good plan," Jen admitted. Then the groom set to completing the morning's tasks. They had been talking without working for a while so she had to hurry. As a result they talked very little as they finished preparations. Jen knew this plan was risky, but she knew she had to take a chance. She wondered if she should try to take Abby with her or go alone. Once she was free she could try to release Abby. Or she could just try to get out and get help. She would cross that bridge when she got there. First she had to get herself free.
When she was ready the groom attached the reins and led her out of the stable as if nothing had transpired between them. Jen had wanted to give a final word of encouragement before they left the stall but the bridle and bit was now in place and she was no longer able to talk. Her stomach knotted with the feeling of helplessness. Her legs were very sore from the days before and as she had expected she was stiff.
Jen's trainer was waiting at the door; she took the reins from the groom and led Jen out into the field. She was led over to one of the single yoke sulkies. It took her trainer only a matter of minutes to attach her to the sulky, jump into the seat, and cluck and rein her to start. Jen moved out at a walk, and even though her muscles were stiff and did not want to respond she forced herself to carefully raise her knees parallel to the ground with each step. She worried whether she was doing it correctly. Then, to her relief, she was moved up to a trot and held at that speed through the end turns and up the back stretch. She felt impaired by the stiffness of her muscles, but they also seemed to be relaxing and loosening up as she moved forward. Jen had been belled again this morning and the bells sounded different with only a single pony, but the sensation of the three small bells on her nipples and clitoris bouncing while at the trot seemed even more sensual than before. She wondered if it was possible for her to trot herself to orgasm. Unfortunately she did not get a chance to find out. As they closed on the far turns the trainer signaled her to increase to a run. Jen picked up the pace. Even though there was more weight to pull with only a single pony Jen did not find it difficult and the fact she did not have to coordinate with another pony helped.
As they came back to the break area Jen could see Abby hitched to a similar sulky just starting out. It appeared that she was having a difficult time. Even though they were well behind her Jen could see that she was not lifting her legs high enough on the walk and actually seemed to be wobbling back and forth. Jen knew the trainer would not be happy. Jen, on the other hand found that the lap she had just done under the control of her trainer had been just what she needed to loosen her muscles. Then she was brought to a stop. It had been fine while she was moving, but stopped she felt the pain and stiffness rush back into her legs. She hoped they would get going again soon.
To Jen's surprise her trainer got out of the sulky and walked up to her, stroked her breast, flank, and head. Then she held up something that appeared to be made of white rubber. It looked to be about six inches wide, and there was a triangular shaped hole in one end which the trainer put over Jen's nose. Then she flipped the rest of it back over Jen's head. The effect was that Jen's eyes were completely covered from the top of her forehead down to just above her mouth. Because the rubber molded to her face over her bridle Jen could see nothing, not even a hint of light coming up from below. Jen did not like this. She shook her head back and forth trying to dislodge the covering, but it was formed to her head. Like so much else that they did to her it was out of her control. She would be without sight until her trainer decided to give it back. She felt disoriented. She was confused, she couldn't imagine why the trainer had done this to her.
Then she heard the clucking noise made by her trainer when she wanted Jen to start moving. She also felt the shaking on the reins. Certainly she was kidding. She was not expected to pull the sulky blindly. But the snap of the buggy whip against her flank spoke to the contrary. Jen began to walk, pulling the sulky behind her and lifting her knees in the fashion she had been trained to perform. A slight pull to the right on the reins adjusted her direction. She must have overcorrected because there was a slight pull to the left. What did they expect if she could not see where she was going? This was absurd. But then there was the snapping up and down of the reins. "Trot? Really?" Jen said to herself. The message was made clearer with another snap of the whip and another red mark to decorate her back end. Trot she did.
The track was level and she had been around it many times, but she also knew there was a wall up ahead somewhere. Would the trainer let her trot head-on into it? She doubted that she would. Was this an exercise in trust? How could she trust people who had tricked her and taken away her liberty? If they were capable of that what else were they capable of? On the other hand, what real choice did she have? Her buttocks and thighs were already speckled with small red welts from corrections made by her trainer and that was when she was trying, and being compliant.
She remembered the red and purple stripes she had seen on the groom this morning – she suddenly realized that she didn't even know the groom's name. This place objectified them all. That had been punishment. She did not want punishment. So she trotted. She had been 'wool gathering'. She must be getting very close to the wall. She felt herself slowing down in anticipation of running out of track. The trainer sensed it too and two snaps of the whip, one to each buttock, reminded her who was in charge. If they wanted her to hit the wall she would have to hit the wall. This really sucked. The reins were being pulled to the left, it was fairly sharp – the wall must be close – she followed the signal. She must have over executed the turn because there was a right pressure on the reins. She corrected. But, most important she had not broken her gait. 'Pretty good trick without being able to see,' she congratulated herself.
The next leg of the turn onto the back stretch was much more gentle and she followed the pressure that was applied to the reins. This time there was no correction at the end of the turn. Again she was proud of herself. She hated not being able to see, but she had to admit that she was becoming much more sensitive and in tune with the signals of the trainer. In her mind she visualized the track. She could sense the desire of the trainer. Her movements were perfectly tuned to the reins. The slightest pressure to the left side caused an almost indistinguishable adjustment to the left. Her trotting gait was perfect. She could hear it from the bells and of course she could feel it. She had reacted to the shaking of the bells before, but with her sight taken away everything was amplified. Just as she could feel the minutest pressure from the movement of the reins she could feel every bit of movement at her nipples and clitoris. She was not sure she had ever felt anything quite as pleasurable before. All she could think about was the gentle massaging of her nipples and clitoris.
Without her eyes her body had taken over. It was responding to the movement of the reins without her thinking about it; but more importantly to her right now, it was responding to the sexual stimulation of the bouncing bells. She was going to cum. She was actually going to climax from trotting with bells bobbing up and down on her sensitive body parts. Well, why not? She had brought herself to climax by using her hands on those same body parts, having it happen to her without the use of her own hands only seemed to enhance the feeling. Then it was on her. Ripples ran from her sex down her legs all the way to her toes and up her body to her head. But she didn't break stride and that helped the rush of pleasure to continue to surge through her with each bounce and step. She was sure anyone watching would have seen the shudder course through her body, but she did not care. It was the best she had felt since she came here.
She had lost track of how far she had gone or even where exactly she was on the track. She knew she was on a long stretch, but not which one. She did not even know how many laps she had made. She remembered making at least three complete turns, had there been more? There was the shake of the reins, not a signal to turn or adjust. The trainer was calling for her to run. No question. She did not even have to think and interpret the signal. Her body reacted without question. She was running, blindly trusting in the direction from the two leather straps one attached to each side of the bit in her mouth. And it felt good. She wasn't even winded. She felt like she could do this all day. She didn't care where the wall was. She and her trainer were one. They would not hit the wall. They ran, they turned at pace, they ran some more. She heard other sounds, other ponies and their sulkies. They were passing others. No one passed them.
The signal was to move to a walk and then a few steps later to stop. If felt effortless – Jen stood proudly. Even though her eyes were still covered she could feel other eyes on her. Certainly they were all marveling at her performance. 'Top that!' she thought. There was something at her lips. It was a water bottle, she was being watered. She eagerly took it in. It seemed that most went into her mouth and down her throat – almost nothing dripped. She wondered if Abby had done the same exercise and how she had fared. She wished she could see what was going on, and then, if by force of her mental desire, the eye covering was removed. She was standing near the hitching post. She looked around for her nemesis team. She hoped they had been able to see her performance. They were hitched together to a double yoke sulky to her right. They had seen her. One of them was looking away from her trying to maintain her smug continence, but she would glance over at Jen from time to time, a maneuver that broke the previous aloofness. The other pony was looking at her. Jen had expected some sign of acceptance or respect, but what she saw instead was almost anger. That was even better. Jen smiled and gave her pony tail a proud toss.
The other pony team was to her left. It appeared that their trainers had just unhitched them from a sulky. One of the trainers had a hold of the reins to both ponies and was pulling them toward the pen. Jen could only see the backs of the ponies, but the trainer's face did not look happy and both ponies showed, in addition to the normal speckling of red marks from the buggy whip, a series of parallel red stripes like the one Jen had seen on her groom that morning. Not as many as the groom had worn, Jen tried to count and decided there were five. They had been punished for something. That answered the question of whether ponies would be caned as punishment. Obviously they would.
But where was Abby? Jen shifted around and then she saw her up near the back turn. She was connected to a single yoke sulky like Jen, but to Jen's surprise she was not wearing a blindfold. But there was something else. She was wearing one of the step training rigs, the ones that shocked your nipples and clitoris if your knees were not lifted just right. Jen could tell from the look on her face that it was not going well. Jen's moment of self satisfaction waned as Abby's face contorted with obvious pain. They really needed to get out of here. Jen's stomach lurched as she thought about tonight. She knew it was going to come at a great risk. If she succeeded she could save herself, Abby, and her co-conspirator groom as well as all the other ponies, slaves and other captives. If she failed? If the groom got ten strokes of the cane for dirty stalls what punishment would attempting to escape bring? She couldn't think about that. She might lose her nerve.
Abby was pulled to a stop next to Jen. Her face was streaked with tears. She kept her legs very still to keep from triggering the training device she still wore. She gave Jen a pleading look, but there was nothing Jen could do to help her. She tried to give her a consoling understanding look, but it was hard to be very emotive with your head strapped in a bridle and your mouth clamped around a bit. 'Tonight,' she thought. 'Tonight I will get us out of here.'
Abby's trainer did not look happy. She hobbled Abby before removing the training device. Jen realized that she had not been hobbled. Then Abby's trainer released her from the sulky, and taking her reins pulled her toward the pen which now held the other two ponies. The pace she demanded was much too fast for a hobbled pony and Abby struggled to keep up, almost falling several times before they arrived at the pen.
Jen's attention was then drawn to the door that lead into the interior area. It opened and a person who must be an overseer exited leading a coffle of six girls. They were all naked except for their metal collar, belt, and cuffs. Wrist chains had been pulled tight to a ring at the front of the belt. Ankles were chained with about a foot between the cuffs, but from the center of the ankle chain another light chain extended up. It did not reach all the way to the belt, but instead was fastened to the ring at the clitoris of each girl. It held the leg chain just above parallel with the ground. This meant that a step to the full limits of the chain would pull down on the wearer's tender part. Some type of gag, it looked like a black ball, was in the mouth of each girl and connected around the head with a similar black strap that was buckled at the back of the head. The girls were chained from neck to neck forming a single line. Jen recognized her groom as the third girl in the coffle. What was going on? The coffle was led to the other pen in the central area, and the girls were left linked together even after being locked inside. Jen did not think any of them could have climbed out even if they were not connected together.
Within a minute or two a second coffle of females, also six in number, exited the doorway and were brought to the pen. They were chained the same as the prior group. Something was happening. To Jen's surprise there was then a third group. This group was made up of young men. They all seemed fit and most were attractive, even with their faces somewhat contorted with a similar gag to that worn by the girls. Jen would have accepted a date with almost any of them. They were accompanied by two overseers. The male slaves were also naked and had collars and waist belts. The collar and belt were a bit more substantial than those worn by the women. Their wrists, also adorned with metal cuffs, were locked to the belt behind their back. Their ankles were also chained with about a foot of length, the center of the chain also had another chain extending upward – a more substantial chain than worn by the girls. This chain ended at the testicles where it connected to a metal band about an inch wide circling the scrotum above the testicles, but below the penis. Jen also noticed that the arc of the leg chain was held quite a bit higher for the men. A step of more than two thirds of the chain length would pull down on their testicles already stretched by the chain and weight of the metal band. One overseer led the coffle while another walked next to them with a small quirt similar to a riding crop. Every now and then she would deliver a blow to the flank or rear of one of the men. Another difference is that there were only five men in this coffle. Both the prior groups each had six.
After the men were locked in the pen with the twelve female slaves the overseers walked back through the open door to the interior but did not close it behind them. In less than a minute they were back. This time they were rolling a flat trolley like the ones used at lawn and garden stores to accommodate potted purchases. Lying face down on the trolley was another male. Like the others his wrists were locked behind his back, but his legs were folded up and a wide leather belt kept them in that position. The chain between his ankle cuffs was also pulled up and appeared to be locked at the ring in the back of his belt where his wrists were locked. Jen could not see his face. His head was completely covered in a black leather hood. Jen could see wires extending from the bottom of the hood and disappearing under his chest as he lay on the trolley. He appeared to be holding very still and several grunts when the trolley bounced convinced Jen that he was wearing a silence hood of the type that had been described by the groom. She wondered what he had done to deserve such harsh treatment. As they rolled him up to the edge of the pen holding the other slaves Jen could see the mixture of curiosity and fear in the other slaves. They would look at him furtively and quickly turning away as if seeing something forbidden. The trolley was left outside the pen, a short distance from the gate. The additional security of the pen was not really necessary.
Jen's trainer had returned. She patted Jen affectionately on the flank, released her from the sulky, and led her over to the pen where Abby had been taken. She was left inside the pen without being hobbled. Abby looked at her and then turned away. Jen hoped she was not angry with her. They were very quickly joined by the last pony team. They also were not hobbled. There seemed to be a class structure among ponies. The favored and the not favored. Jen had moved up, but Abby had not. What did that mean for them as a team? Jen had been trained as an individual today. She didn't know why, but the thought of being separated from Abby, from her team mate, was frightening. Abby needed to step up her game. She couldn't let the team be separated. - - - My God, this place was getting in her head. What they needed to do was get the hell out of here. She looked over the top of her pen toward the pen containing the others, the slaves. What was happening? She and the groom had a plan for tonight. Would they still be able to execute it?
Jen heard a deep metallic clanking sound to the right of the pen. It was near the direction of the door she assumed went outside. And, in confirmation, light was starting to stream in. They were rolling up one of the metal overhead doors. So much for her plan; they were leaving this place.
End of part 1
Copyright© 2011 by I. Binder. All rights reserved.