© Copyright 2012 - Jo - Used by permission
Storycodes: M/ff; F/f; D/s; slaves; ponygirl; harness; cart; race; crop; bdsm; outdoors; surgery; cons; XX
Part 4: Bitgirl's Reward
Evans grabbed Bitgirl's reins, yanked her head around before she could plant another hoof in Dee's crotch. That she realized that Dee was, in fact, a man made the idea irresistible.
Evans led his pony down the hill to where Angela sat, cradling her arm. He helped the girl into the cart and led them back to the stall. He released Bitgirl from the cart, helped Angela walk inside. He cinched Bitgirl's reins to a ring in the wall. Shut the door.
Bitgirl heard the outer door shut. She was trembling. Partly with the adrenaline rush from the collision, but part of it was fear.
She had never felt fear with Evans. To the contrary, she had always felt perfectly safe with her owner. But Bitgirl knew that when Evans was quiet he was angry - and Evans was very, very quiet.
The collision was her fault, of course. Evans had told them to stay behind Celeste/Dee until the last turn on the last lap, then cut inside and sprint past. But Dee had stumbled back in the woods. Bitgirl saw an opening and she took it, racing past the other.
But then she found herself in the lead with Dee nipping at her heels. She was spending more time trying to block the other than focusing on her running. Exactly the position she was supposed to have put Dee into.
Coming out of the woods Dee cut inside. Bitgirl anticipated it. Angela likewise. She steered Bitgirl left. Their carts collided. Bitgirl barely held it together as Dee opened a lead.
Bitgirl gathered herself and ran. Ran like she was being chased by the devil. Angela screamed, lashed her with the whip. Bitgirl didn't need the whip. She just ran.
She caught Dee at the crest of the hill. Passed her at the finish line by about a half length. Dee steered her cart into theirs, sent Angela sailing, head over heels tumbling down the hill. Bitgirl, skidded to a stop, whirled, drew back a hoof, and put every ounce of her pony strength into a well-placed kick to Dee's crotch.
An unearthly squeal as she fell to the ground. It was in that moment Bitgirl realized that Dee was actually a man. The thought inflamed her and she was drawing her hoof back for another shot when Evans grabbed her reins.
Bitgirl knew she was in deep shit. And she was afraid. Evans had never punished her. Whipped her, yes, because it pleased him to do so. Pleased him to have her wear his marks. But this? They say fear of the unknown is the worst. Bitgirl trembled in the gray light of the darkened stall.
An hour passed, maybe two, then there came a noise, a door being shut. Bitgirl, who had managed to calm herself, tensed.
The inner door opened. Evans flicked on the light. Angela followed him into the stall, her right arm in a blue cast.
Evans looked at her. Bitgirl looked back, then lowered her eyes.
"What the fuck were you thinking? Was I not clear? Did I not tell you to hang back, worry her, make the final pass? Hm? Forgive me if I was not clear, but I think I was clear, perfectly clear. So the only explanation I can see is simple disobedience."
He turned to Angela, who was cradling her arm and trying to look small.
"And you! How are you to serve me like that? Hm? I've a good mind to sell you and find a replacement. Worthless!"
As tirades went, it wasn't all that bad. But coming from Evans? Bitgirl cowered.
Evans had a whip in his hand. Not the snappy little signal whip Angela used on her when they rode and not the other that was his preference. No. This was a cat. A small cat, but a mean looking one at that.
Evans grabbed her shoulder and spun her against the wall. He lashed her.
The pain was like nothing she'd ever experienced. Every lash multiplied by nine. Bitgirl screamed, clung to the ring above her head. Clung until she felt her legs tremble, her knees buckle. Evans grabbed her arm, steadied her, tossed the cat aside.
"Prepare her. The white dress. I want them to see the marks."
"You? You're not fit for the public with that thing on your arm. Go around to the back of the kitchen and get something to eat, then come back here."
Evans left the stall.
Angela came over to Bitgirl, wrapped her arms around her. Bitgirl sobbed, trembling.
"I'm so sorry."
Bitgirl sniffed, shook her head.
"no. my choice. i'm sorry."
Angela fumbled the leather strap from the ring.
"how's your arm?"
"Broken. A clean break. Should be good in a month or so."
"he won't sell you, will he?"
Angela blew a hair from her forehead.
"Hard to say. I've never seen him like this. When he gets mad he's quiet. For him, that was quite a speech. I dunno. I truly don't."
"Please stop saying that. We both screwed up."
Angela removed Bitgirl's bridle and harness. She helped Bitgirl out of her hooves.
"Well, the good news is the leather absorbed some of the blows. You've got a mess of welts, but only a couple of blood spots."
Bathed and dressed, Angela led her to the dining room. Bitgirl waited while Evans finished his conversation. She noted that Celeste/Dee were absent. Evans came over to her.
"They've been sent packing."
Bitgirl nodded. She took his arm, accepted a glass of white wine. It was quiet. Very quiet. Bitgirl had trouble reading the group.
Were they angry with her? Celeste was the high priestess at these events. Bitgirl sipped her wine and allowed Evans to lead her from group to group.
At one point he excused himself and another ponygirl came up and touched Bitgirl's arm.
"That was awesome! That bitch SO had that coming."
Bitgirl smiled, nodded. She didn't speak in public. Her severed vocal chords reduced her voice to a soft, breathy whisper that others had trouble hearing.
A couple came over. The man leaned close.
Bitgirl acknowledged the praise.
Evans was by her side with a fresh glass of wine. He smiled at her and sang softly.
"Ding, dong, the witch is dead."
He had been drinking. Evans wasn't a sloppy drunk, but she could tell he'd had a drink or three.
"The mantle has been passed. It's on your shoulders now."
He gestured toward the group with his glass.
"They have been cowed by the bitch. Now they're going to want a shot at the new, top pony. Are you up for it?"
"Good. Because you'll be racing the best of the pack tomorrow. They'd resigned themselves to being also-rans ... but now?"
After dinner he walked her back to the room, left to join the others for a nightcap.
"he's not mad."
"What? Have you seen your back? I know Evans and-"
Bitgirl shook her head.
"no, he's not. he punished me for disobeying, but he wasn't mad. i'm his pony and i disobeyed, that's all. If he was mad it was at Celeste."
The next morning Evans helped Angela fit Bitgirl's tack.
"Now listen. This is a whole different ball game. You have to get in front and stay there, wire to wire. Understand?"
"You've got five other ponies, three are fast, two are very fast. Not as fast as you, but if you get behind they may collude to block you, so get in front and stay there. Angela? Understand?"
"Good. Take her out. Warm her up."
Bitgirl was glad to be moving. She hadn't slept well, and merely chased her breakfast around on the plate.
This was important.
Beating Celeste/Dee had changed the game. All bets were off. There would be a new pecking order after this race.
Angela guided her around the course. Other ponies stayed behind, a couple passed hoping to get a rise out of her. Bitgirl ignored them, trotted along, loosening up, feeling good. The feeling of hunger faded. Her muscles warmed. Bitgirl felt good, very good. She champed at her bit - literally.
And they're off!
It went as Evans had said. A couple of ponies challenged. One drew equal, but faded. Bitgirl took the lead and kept it. Second pony was three lengths back. Third a length behind second.
The rush of adrenaline. The rush. Just the pure animal rush overwhelmed her. She wanted to jump and scream, fist pump, high-five Evans and Angela. How she'd hung on one handed, Bitgirl didn't know. Thankfully she was left handed and had broken her right arm. Angela couldn't use the whip, but she didn't need it. She had just hung on, somehow, hung on for the ride. And what a ride!
Bitgirl hopped from one hoof to the other, trying to contain herself. Evans led them to the presentation. He accepted the trophy, leaned in and gave Angela a kiss on the cheek, slipped his fingers into Bitgirl's hair, looked into her eyes, and smiled.
Bitgirl woke. She couldn't move. Angela was there.
"You're fastened to the rail. You have to stay on your side."
The fog cleared and Bitgirl found herself cuffed, strapped to the side of the hospital bed.
Angela turned, pointed at her own ass.
"They removed two of your toes, connected them and fused them to your cocyx, your tail bone."
Bitgirl blinked up at her.
"You have a tail, girl. A real tail. I haven't seen it, but they're going to implant hair once its healed. You know, like the Hair Club For Men thing? Real hair, follicles and all."
Bitgirl blinked again trying to process that.
"I can't wait to see it!"