It’s chilly this morning. I probably should have had another cup of coffee before heading out. Oh well, the stable is heated, and the weather forecast says it’ll get into the 70’s by noon. A near perfect day. Wish I could take the day off, but there’s just too much work to do.
The stable doors need a new coat of paint. The last stuff I used looked nice for a few months, but it just didn’t hold up to the weather. I switch off the alarm. I was told I should get a more modern one. A ‘smart’ one. Why do kids think that because something isn’t controlled by a phone app, it isn’t good? Fewer things to go wrong and I’m not crazy about the possibility of it getting hacked. Jessie convinced me to do more stuff on the computer and phone that I wouldn’t have wanted to do before. Well, we’re paying enough for that college degree to listen to her advice.
I switch on the overhead lights and walk over to my workbench. Schedule, schedule. Yes, I see the handwritten note that the meeting is at 1:00PM. That means it’s really at 2:00 PM. Jan always moves up the time so I don’t end up being late. This is an important one though, so I don’t mind her prodding me on.
I walk over to the stalls. There they are. Holly is still asleep. The last to lay down and the last to get up. I’ll give it a few more minutes.
Ahh, Polly. Wide awake and still trying to get out of that harness. Sorry sweetie, that’s never going to happen, so you might as well calm down.
Speaking of calm, Molly has pretty much accepted what has happened. That’s why I’ve had such good results. Oh, I don’t believe for a minute Molly wouldn’t try to escape if the opportunity arose. But I’ve had enough experience not to let that happen.
Dolly. Oh dear. Still in denial. Still trying to speak through the bit gag. I point at the riding whip and Dolly quiets down. This far along in training I don’t want to have to cut their vocal cords. It’s just too difficult to do it without leaving scars, and I did agree that things would be pretty much intact, except for the most essential changes.
I go to the fridge and pull out eight bags; four of the ‘A’ and four of the ‘B’. I’ve gone through a lot of these, but my supplier always comes through with whatever I need. I check the supply of testosterone supplements while I’m at it. Not low yet. I’ll give it another week.
I open the door to Holly’s stall. Holly just stands there knowing what is coming next. I clip the harness and bridle to the two leather leads and cinch everything tight. Tears flow down Holly’s eyes as I clip the two IV bags to the overhead hooks. I take the needles and place the one from bag ‘A’ into the left arm, and then bag ‘B’ into the right. I open the valves and the contents of the bags slowly flow into Holly. I perform a check on Holly’s progress. I touch the back and stomach. Yes, very soft skin. The buttocks have become nice and rounded. Curves developing where they should. I check the nipples. Holly responds as I touch them softly. Almost stirring with pleasure. I examine the rest of the small but firm breasts. They are just as they should be at this stage. There is a slight moan as I see those sparkling eyes close slightly from the attention.
I now inspect the rest of Holly. I press my fingers against the thighs, directing Holly to spread the legs. I look at the steel device holding the remains of a cock. It’s much, much smaller now. Once it was nine inches in length. Thanks to the hormones and the adjustable chastity cage, it’s only one inch at the most. Below the entrapped penis is... nothing except for a small, almost undetectable scar.
Jan did a beautiful job of gelding. She’s much better than I am, and she does it with such efficiency. I actually get a little squeamish at gelding a pony. For Jan, well it’s like riding a bike. Jessie and Denise learned it from her and both are good at it, but Jessie is a little better. Once she’s finished with school she’s got a position waiting for her with Doc Farnsworth’s practice. He’s a good vet but he’s only one person and we need someone who has experience with ponies.
Jan’s just entered the stable. She’s got a thermos of coffee for me. I finish with Holly, inserting the butt plug tail and strapping it in. It’s much easier now than the first time. I think Holly enjoys it as there is no longer any resistance to its intrusion.
Molly and Dolly are next. Their resistance is also a fraction of what it was when they were delivered. I take a break and drink some coffee. Nice and hot! Jan is buckling the training harness on Holly. The IV bags are nearly empty already. More estrogen and other hormones in those bags than a University Sorority House. I was worried that kind of volume in so short a time would be too much, but Holly is almost a glutton for them.
Molly’s eyes plead me to stop my handling of the constricted penis. Unlike Holly, there is little joy in my manipulation of it. I take the adjustment screws and turn them twice, scrunching the device down further. I have to make sure that it is the same size as the others. The drugs and constant confinement are doing the job. The girth has been reduced as well. I might have to cut back on the IVs to prevent it getting too small.
Dolly no longer attempts to speak. My reminder that I’ll use the whip appears to have done the job. There is little resistance as I perform my examination. I feel Dolly shudder as I slightly pull on the nipple rings. Is it pleasure from this or is it just the effects of the aphrodisiacs in the IV?
Polly is last. I look down at the floor of the stall. Seems like there is a little ‘present’ for me to step in. That’s Polly all right. Although they are used to pissing and defecating in their stalls, this is Polly doing whatever is possible to get back at me. Jan enters the stall and helps me secure our troublemaker. Polly sees Jan and cowers in fear, remembering the touch of the castrating knife and the sight of the bloody testes and scrotum in Jan’s hand.
Once the last IV bag is empty, I take each pony out of its stall and hook their leads to the overhead track. None of them can break free and Jan and I can easily handle all four at one time. We look at all them standing in line and remember when they were first brought here, and how they progressed so quickly.
When we took delivery of these ponies and pulled off their sensory deprivation hoods, we knew we would have a challenge. Our customer had invested a great deal of effort and hundreds of thousands in finding four young men approximately the same age, with the same body type, facial bone structure, fair skin tone, hair (blond) and eye color (blue) among other things. They ranged in height from five foot seven to five eight. Our job was not just to train them as a team, but to make them as identical in appearance as possible without resorting to plastic surgery.
Some things were not too difficult. Their pony boots have slightly different thickness in hooves to bring them all to the same height. We used special depilatories to destroy all body hair except for their Mohawk-style manes. Any moles or noticeable skin discoloration we disguised by going over them with tattoos or duplicating them on the other three. Molly’s star-shaped birthmark was copied on Holly, Polly and Dolly’s right hips. Once finished they appeared as if they were all clones of each other, even though it was clear to us they were not. One of the most telling things was they couldn’t speak or understand English, and not one could even communicate in the same language. I’m not sure what language they attempted to speak. It didn’t really matter, once they were gagged, but we had fun trying to guess. It was actually an advantage to have a language barrier as they all had to learn the same basic commands at the same time, and they couldn’t communicate with each other.
The harness holds the arms tight behind the back. The hands are confined in thick rubber-lined leather mitts. Each pony has been secured in the same manner and they stay that way most of their waking and sleeping hours. I can see that the arms are shrinking as they lose muscle tone. We have made more frequent adjustments in the arm binders to keep the arms immobile. The reverse prayer is the position of choice for most pony owners, as the muscles atrophy more quickly. Others, like our customer, prefer a less severe position, so the pony adjusts gradually to their arms and hands becoming useless.
They received the basic pony piercings in their nipples and septums. Genital piercings would be performed once their cocks had shrunk down to less than an inch in length. Right now, Prince Alberts or other piercings would interfere with the operation of the cock reducers.
The biggest challenge in pony conditioning (I dislike the term ‘breaking’ as it suggests that severe physical torture is necessary) is the psychological changes. You are taking an intelligent (to a degree) individual and turn them into a compliant animal. It takes months to change a pony’s mindset. Some trainers use various methods such as drug-assisted hypnosis, and yes, physical modification, to convert them. It really depends on what the ultimate goal is of the owner. You have ones who have all their mental faculties, but they have conditioned responses like Pavlov’s dogs or Skinner’s mice. Others have their humanity suppressed and they live and work as equines. I have even heard of one or two whose human thinking processes have been entirely eliminated and they believe they are only ponies. I’ve never seen an actual instance of ‘total conversion’, but I know of some owners who have the means to do it.
For Polly, Molly, Dolly and Holly we use tried and true methods. Consistency and repetition, followed by periods of sensory deprivation, physical and psychological restriction; treating them only as ponies and repressing humanlike behavior. A strict diet and exercise regimen are used to mold their bodies and minds into well-conditioned ponies. It has worked in the past and with these four it is just as successful. Physical punishment, like whipping, is only used when necessary.
We make our way through the other parts of the stables. The ones where out-of-town owners board their ponies. We don’t do as much boarding, as we concentrate on the training end of things. It takes time and work to devote to a full stable, so we have only a couple of boarders and of course, our own ponies.
Jan hears Sultan snorting and pacing in his stall. He can tell that the four are nearby. He has a keen sense of smell and the hormones are thick in the air. As we pass his stall I look at Sultan and see that his cock is fully erect. Dolly looks at him, but Jan pulls on the bridle. Sultan charges the door, trying to break it down. He can’t of course. The door is way too thick and the industrial-strength hardware prevents any breaches, but he startles everyone with his fury. He frightens everyone who sees him. Hell, boarding him was a mistake. The money is good, but he’s gotten more dangerous as the months have passed. He’s six-six and 290 pounds of pure muscle. The steroids we’re required to give him keep him in a perpetual ‘roid rage’. The iron horseshoes on his hoof boots are heavy and he could seriously injure or even kill someone if he wasn’t hobbled to keep from kicking. At this stage I’d rather he be put down, but it’s not my call. I could refuse to keep him any longer, but the contract with his owner gives us no wiggle room. We have at least another year before we can be rid of him.
I see semen starting to spurt from his massive cock. He’s randy all right. He has been kept from mating for a long time. In his condition, he doesn’t care who or what he wants to mount, he just wants to fuck something. There are only a couple of mares in town who may be able to take his seventeen incher, and even then I would hesitate doing it because of his savage behavior.
Molly’s buttocks are clenching and relaxing. The butt plug tail has that effect on ponies after a while, even without the drugs. Oh, they protest at first. They all cried for a time, but after a couple of weeks they began to like it; even Polly the troublemaker. The plugs are only four inches wide at the base and I usually have gone much larger this far in training, but the customer was very specific as to the girth I should use.
In all honesty, I can’t blame Sultan for his reaction. I get aroused myself when I work with these ponies as the hormones are just too strong to be ignored. That’s why I’m glad Jan is with me. She not so quietly reminds me I have to keep my cock in my pants. Well, at least when we’re working. Once we’re through for the day she enjoys my giving her a long hard fucking almost every night.
We pass Trixie and Ranger, our ponies. Well, they belong more to the girls since they were the ones that caught and trained them. It was one night we had gone to the town council meeting. The girls were old enough to be left alone. They heard a noise outside and saw a motorcycle pull up to the house. Two people got off it and broke a window. Denise got my shotgun, surprised the intruders and held them at bay while Jessie handcuffed them.
From their IDs they turned out to be a couple of drifters; a male about 25 and the girl a couple of years younger. By chance they bypassed the regular roads and avoided the town patrols. The police chief had a background check performed. It turned out they were out-of-state minor thieves and drug addicts who had skipped bail and were on the run. They were looking for some quick cash and thought the house was a perfect target. Of course, after they had seen the stables we couldn’t turn them over to the State Police. We also couldn’t release them. Since possession was 9/10th of the law we decided to keep them. Their motorcycle was stripped of its parts and any serial numbers removed. The remaining pieces were scrapped. They both were extensively tattooed, so those were lasered off, and our brands were applied to their hindquarters. We added Denise and Jessie’s initials on the inner thighs so the girls had a sense of ownership. The two new ponies were cleaned up and detoxed. The girls flipped a coin and Jessie had her first experience in gelding.
Jan opens the door to the outside exercise yard. The four are much calmer once they are released from the track and allowed to wander the yard. We keep the sulkies and other carts here. In one corner is the hay wagon, and beside it is the smaller buckboard. We give them a few minutes before Jan takes hold of Dolly’s bridle and guides the pony to the buckboard. I take hold of Polly and once Dolly is secured, I hitch our troublemaker in place. Molly and Holly are placed in the lead positions because of their greater docility and compliance. They’ve learned more quickly and are less likely to need the whip.
A few final adjustments to the harnesses and I open the gate to the yard. Jan and I get on board and I hand her the reins while I sit back and enjoy the ride. A quick snap of the reins and they start pulling the rig, except for Polly. Jan gives a flick of the whip along Polly’s backside and there is no more balking.
Today we are going to give the team a chance to show just how well they work together under different conditions. This afternoon’s meeting with the customer’s representative will demonstrate their progress. When we first tried them as a team they just acted individually; pulling against each other and trying to escape. They all got rewarded and punished together. Bad behavior meant all got the whip. Good behavior and they all got lumps of sugar or apple slices. Molly and Holly adapted first, so they became the lead ponies. Dolly and Polly finally gave up after a few weeks. Oh, likely today Polly will try to test Jan or I, but it doesn’t last long.
As usual we drive the team down the road to the track, and this time Jan directs our foursome to the road leading into town. It’s the first time they will be seen in public. With a single pony it takes less time than a team to get to this point, as with a team all four need to step in unison; their knees the same height and at the same pace. A misstep by one throws off the team. The beauty of a pony team is their unity and precision.
Molly is the first to sense that this is not a typical day. Holly picks up on it as well. Jan pulls slightly back on the reins to keep them in line. We pass the harness shop and turn down Main Street. It’s early so the streets are relatively clear. I see Jill’s Diner has her pancake special this morning. Several sulkies and their ponies are hitched up outside. Hank’s pony Blue Balls is breathing hard. He is usually given a three-mile run before work. His cock is still locked in that steel and plastic cage. He’s kept that way until suitable mares have been found to mate with him. He sees the four and I see his nostrils flare, detecting their scent. Those hormones are powerful! Without success he tries to pull himself away from the hitching post so he can follow us.
Jan and I hear the faint ringing of bells. I see Mayor Bradshaw at the next corner giving her pony Jingles a workout. We meet up with her and we slightly acknowledge each other as we head up Seventh Street. Jingles has been the Mayor’s pony for nearly twenty-four years. Her body has been pierced and ringed multiple times. One ring for each year. Nipples and septum as well as a ring on each side of the nose. Eight rings in each ear. Her clitoris and labia have eleven rings in total. Each ring on her has at least one and as many as five tiny bells attached. She is in good shape for a nearly forty-two year old pony. She’s also been bred four times.
Unfortunately, this unexpected meeting with the Mayor has brought up some unpleasant memories, regarding a mating attempt with Sultan. Not only was it a disaster but it was also unauthorized and led to quite some tension between us and the Mayor. Denise’s friend Maya is the Mayor’s niece and had been left in charge of Jingles while the Mayor was away on a trip. Maya is an irresponsible young woman, who got off on abusing ponies and especially Jingles in different ways. She got the notion to bring Jingles to our stables and have Sultan mount her while she used a dildo on herself. She showed up with Jingles at the house and convinced Denise to let her in the stable to see Sultan; despite our warning her to keep other parties out. While Denise stepped out to feed Trixie and the other ponies, Maya brought Jingles into Sultan’s stall.
Sultan nearly ripped Jingles apart. Thankfully, Denise used the tranquilizer gun on Sultan and after four shots finally got him unconscious. Denise phoned for help and it took a lot of the Doctor’s skill to fix Jingles up. The Mayor was told that there was no way that Jingles would ever be able to mate again. The Mayor was livid and naturally wanted Sultan destroyed, but his owner refused to authorize it. In time, the Mayor cooled down a bit but told me that Sultan was to be confined in his stall at all times until his owner found a new place for him. I couldn’t disagree. He was just too damned dangerous.
The other issue was that Maya and Denise had to answer for this. A hearing was set and it was determined that while Maya was primarily responsible, Denise was an accomplice, even if unwittingly. She had let Maya alone with a dangerous beast which led to Jingles nearly being killed. The punishment was 8,000 hours of Community Service for Maya. For Denise, it was determined that Jingles would be out of commission for three months. Her punishment was to replace Jingles as the Mayor’s pony for that time. Jan and I were not happy with the sentence, but it was lenient compared to what had been handed down on others before. Denise had to learn her lesson for her leaving Sultan unguarded. She was taken to the Bar-X Stables so we would have no say in how she would be processed.
The next time we saw her was three days later. She was pulling the Mayor’s sulky down Main Street. Jan saw the tears of shame and humiliation in Denise’s eyes as she passed us by. Despite our protests, she had been pierced, ringed and belled as a further reminder of what she had done. The lucky thing was that it was only her nipples rather than full pony piercings, and they were not welded shut but could be removed easily once she was back home. When her sentence was completed, she was brought back to the ranch, her rear showing clear signs of the whip having been liberally applied. When Jan attempted to remove the rings, Denise asked to keep them in place and Jan reluctantly relented. This was a sign that I didn’t like and feared that she might go ‘full pony’ and want to be put back in harness. We kept her away from the stable for a couple of weeks and slowly she returned to normal.
We pass the firehouse and give a wave to Jack. He and Sparky are playing fetch. Sparky is the official fire department mascot. Confined in a tight leather bitchsuit with Dalmatian markings, Maya struggles to chase after the ball. The butt plug tail wags uncontrollably back and forth as she waddles on her constrained limbs. I’m not sorry for her, as it was her fault that our daughter almost went ‘full pony’.
Jan signals for the team to move on. The rest is a pleasant ride and the team is working out well. We head back to the ranch and give the four a chance to cool down and have food and water. We give our other boarders as well as Trixie and Ranger the chance to get some fresh air and sunshine.
One O’Clock nears and I check on Holly, Molly, Polly and Dolly to check to see that they are well rested and made ready for our guest. Jan checks the harnesses and gives each of them another set of hormone IVs.
At two I get a call on my phone. Our guest is at the town line, ready to be picked up. Our town has a no motor vehicle policy except for emergency equipment. Otherwise, it’s all pony power. That’s what makes us unique. It’s also something that is one of the biggest secrets, not just in the state, but the country. It’s our largest industry too. Greensboro is the only place where human ponies are trained, boarded, bought, bred and sold year-round. Our shops make and sell human pony tack to buyers world-wide. We have a yearly fair where owners and their ponies are shown and compete for prizes. We also facilitate a breeding exchange to match stallions and mares for the best genetic outcome. Behind the firehouse is the main genetic testing database and pony registry. This didn’t happen overnight. It’s been decades of ponies being bitted, bridled and broken for their owners. Generations of trainers and others who have selected Greensboro to live. Generations of ponies conditioned and trained. Our daughters have been brought up knowing about human ponies, although as town policy strictly enforces the policy that minors never participate until they are of legal age.
We hitch up Trixie and Ranger and drive to the town line. There, Mr. Ivan is waiting. His employer is our customer. Mr. Ivan is a large, solidly built man with tattoos on his hands and I suspect, elsewhere on his body. Jan is certain he is the henchman for a Russian mobster, and I don’t disagree. We greet Mr. Ivan and invite him to ride in the buckboard with Jan while I ride the bike I brought along. He is either silent or very soft-spoken as I can’t hear him at all as they ride back to the ranch.
At the stables we give him a tour and he seems pleased. He sees Sultan and looks at him carefully. Sultan just stares at Mr. Ivan rather than charge the door. Could he be actually frightened by our guest? Well, I’m not too comfortable around him either.
We show Mr. Ivan how well the four have adapted. We bring each one out to the show ring and have them do a few laps. They respond to the commands as they have been taught. Trot, canter and gallop. No problems. Polly won’t test us this time and completes the circle without incident. We also show them off together, demonstrating their teamwork.
Mr. Ivan then examines the four. He checks each pony carefully. He runs his hands along their buttocks and legs; feeling their muscle tone. He smiles as he opens each pony’s mouth and checks their teeth. He checks their arms and sees how they are withering away. He checks the firmness of their breasts and plays with their nipples to see how aroused they become. He is not disappointed as they all stiffen from his touch. He plays with each pony’s tiny cock, seeing if there is even the slightest erection. Holly’s tiny member throbs a bit and Mr. Ivan smiles. He gets a similar reaction from the others, even though each member is tightly confined. He puts on a surgical glove. I remove the butt plug tails and he thrusts his fingers deep inside each of them, checking to see how wide they have become. He pushes hard, adding more fingers until he meets resistance. Then he places his mouth next to Holly’s ear and whispers something in a language I’m unfamiliar with. Holly is shaking. He does the same to each of the others, but in what sounds like a different language. Now they are all quivering in fear.
I ask Mr. Ivan what he had said to them. He explained that he told them in each of their native tongues that they are the property of his employer Mr. Dmitri. They are his ponies and that he will personally fuck them every day for as long as they live. Their assholes are not to be widened too much as Mr. Dmitri wants them loose enough for his cock but still tight enough so they will scream when he uses them.
Mr. Ivan then tells Jan and I that he is pleased with their progress and that he will return in five weeks to pick them up for delivery to Mr. Dmitri’s home on the shores of the Black Sea. Jan takes him back to the town line and I look at the four transgendered ponies who are now reduced to tears.
I’m a little sad that they’ll be gone so soon, as we had put so much work into them. However, I can’t let sentiment get in the way of business. After a further round of exercise I take them back to their stalls for another dose of hormone IVs before settling them in for the night.
Once Jan returns she tells me the good news. On his employer’s behalf, Mr. Ivan has purchased Sultan from his owner. He will be used as an added incentive for Holly, Molly, Polly and Dolly to be obedient little ponies. They will have two choices: Be cooperative and be fucked by Mr. Dmitri, or resist and be fucked by Sultan.
I’m relieved that this headache will be gone soon. I check to make sure everyone is secured. I turn off the lights and set the alarm.
In all, a very productive day.