Gromet's PlazaPonyGirl/PetGirl Stories

The Investigative Reporter

by Jackie Rabbit

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© Copyright 2013 - Jackie Rabbit - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; MF+/f+; court; jail; strip; hum; chains; cuffs; cages; transport; harness; bitgag; ponygirls; cart; cons/reluct; X

There were several work camps out of state for first time young adult offenders, a kind of "tough love" approach between the juvenile justice system and real prison. This was after all the late nineteen thirties, and the science of criminal justice and punishment had come a long way in the cities since the early days, allowing for this and other experimental programs to exist. There were disturbing rumors about these places though, unorthodox practices that none the less produced a near zero rate of recidivism, provided the young offenders were not released back into the same environment that produced them in the first place. Society seemed to benefit as a whole, and the offenders were statistically never heard from again.

It was the implied sexual innuendo of the female work camps that interested the editor of the big city newspaper, and he knew if he could provide a titillating multi part story, he could win back some of his male readers from his cross town rival. Tensions were running high with all the turmoil in Europe, and the citizens of the city needed a distraction from them, as well as from the continuing depression. The editor also had Beth, the only female reporter of any major newspaper. And while he initially hired her only hoping to bed the highly attractive young woman, she refused his many advances making her more of a liability than an asset. The editor thought that with the expectations of this potential story she could once again become an asset, or at very least have a humbling experience or two to knock her pretty self off of her proverbial high horse, if he could find a way to get her inside one of the work camps...

The editor hatched a plan with the aid of a discrete friend on the bench. The men would produce a fictitious conviction for shoplifting for the petite young reporter, and send her away to the female work camp under the cover of an alias to get her story. If the work camp proved to be what he suspected, he would have an incredible exclusive story at the end of her sentence and his circulation would explode. If it wasn't, he would at least be rid of Beth for the summer as her continued presence was a distraction that threatened his sanity. Her risk in all this was pretty high, but he reassured her that she could always identify herself and get an early out if things got too intense.

The editor wondered if that were true the moment he said it. The thought didn't bother his conscience in the least as he formed a mental picture of the sophisticated reporter wearing a stripped prison dress, and toiling at some menial task on her knees while learning some humility. He also thought that after her incarceration she might be far more willing to try out his bed, perhaps even while wearing a pair of manacles. The thought excited him to his very core for reasons he couldn't explain.

Beth knew she was trapped, while she had begged for an opportunity to prove herself doing something besides the latest fashion columns, weeks of hard labor wasn't what she had in mind. If she refused she knew her days were numbered at the paper, but if she accepted and got an exclusive story of documented abuse, she could be the first woman to win a Pulitzer.

It was a predictable decision, and for the sake of security for both the judge and the paper, Beth assumed a false identity and allowed herself to be caught stealing a small item from a corner store. The judge however was the only one in the legal community in on their conspiracy, as he had heard similar rumors of abuse himself and wondered if they were true. Beth's editor had another reporter cover her arrest, and tip off the corner policeman that the theft was occurring. He also sent a photographer along to document the event, and her embarrassing daylight walk to the precinct house with her wrists cuffed behind her back. Her thin blouse was pulled tight across her breasts, and either the chill in the air, or the excitement of the event had Beth displayed far more than she would have liked.

This was a time of restrictive swim suits and long skirts, designed to conceal the flesh beneath more than anything else, and in the case of swimwear, ironically good at pulling a woman under the surf. It was also conversely a time of unimaginable perversions, but practiced behind closed doors and rarely spoken of. Beth was not entirely ignorant to those perversions, and had in fact financed her magnificent education doing things her male classmates couldn't have pondered, with wealthy men of unbelievable imagination and vitality, not to mention generosity. Beth had since carefully created a persona of inherited wealth and privilege with everybody in her new life, and none would have guessed how she truly earned it.

In the nineteen thirties justice was swift, and before evening her uncontested charge of petty theft was heard by the intended judge, and the sentence passed. Ninety days at Grandview estates work camp, and a twenty dollar fine.

The long sentence and fine were both a surprise for Beth as she was technically a first time offender. She had been led to believe her sentence would be weeks at the most and not longer, and had no money on her person with her expensive handbag intentionally left in the care of her editor, as was her apartment key. It wouldn't do for her to be arrested with anything that could contradict her alias, or cash that she could be compelled to purchase the stolen item with allowing her an easy out. She was led to the holding cells with no apparent way to pay the stiff fine, and hoping her editor had the presence of mind to pay her rent for her if she could somehow serve out her three month sentence.

In her cell and under the watchful eyes of two policemen, (there were few policewomen back then), she was asked to hand out her jewelry first, and when it was determined that it was of insignificant value, (her expensive things were safely home in her apartment), her nice skirt and blouse were asked for next. Beth protested, and the burly policemen told her she could either hand out her things willingly, or they would do it for her, but that her best means of paying her fine could be ruined in the process. As a further incentive the policemen told her they expected the holding cells to fill up later in the night, and if she would rather do this for a jail full of drunks she could wait.

With fresh motivation Beth wiggled out of her cherished pencil skirt and silk blouse, tailored to fit her magnificent little body, as were all her clothes. She considered it an investment, she was after all marketing herself as well as her talents in this male dominated business, and she was all too aware of how men thought. It was therefore especially ironic that she was eager to slip into the sack like prison dress one of them held, but it was the easiest way to maintain her alias. It looked small and scandalously short, and not the least bit fashionable, but the leering men probably choose it that way on purpose. For the briefest moment she wondered who was manipulating who.

She stood there as if on display in her silk camisole and matching panties, lacy things bought in a special shop down town, and not expected to be seen by men like these under any circumstances. Silk stockings and leather high heels that cost a fortune finished off her look, and she stared in silent disbelief as both men left the room with her things. They returned minutes later with one of the clerical ladies, and she asked Beth sharply where she purchased her things. When it was established that their labels were genuine, (and most unusual for a woman shoplifting), the woman demanded to purchase her things, ostensibly to help her pay her fine, as both ladies were about the same size.

The clerical lady "offered" five dollars while still holding her fine silk blouse, to which Beth nearly exploded as it cost her several times that and was nearly new. "For both" the lady clarified after Beth calmed herself down. Beth was fuming, but by the burning stare she received back from the woman she realized her only possible hope was for mercy from her, and it would do no good to stoke her wrath while she obviously held the upper hand. Beth knew when she won her Pulitzer she would have many such clothes.

With five dollars for her glass jewelry, and five more for her expensive blouse and skirt she was half way there, but she could already see where this was going. Beth told the woman, (far more kindly than she wanted), that her high heels were a size seven and bought in the finest shop on the east side, to which the woman replied "close enough".

"I'll give you ten dollars for the shoes and stockings" the woman offered without a hint of mercy. "And the rest of it" she added after a moments thought. "It's all quite pretty."

Beth was aghast, she wore no bra under her camisole, as her rather small breasts didn't need any support at all, the only downside being her sensitive buds were easily aroused by the thin and slippery material sliding across them, or she realized without mirth, if she were arrested and had to sell off most of her clothes to pay a fine! Her neatly trimmed womanhood was another matter entirely, and maintained that way with considerable effort in an era when nobody else would even consider it. It was a special request from a past lover with unique tastes that she grew to love.

Beth begged the woman with a whisper, "Please don't leave me like this in here".

The woman only returned Beth's stare with a cold one of her own, "I have no sympathy for thieves, especially pretty well dressed ones that don't need to steal and expect to get off easy. If it were up to me I would cuff you wrist and ankle to your cot in your birthday suit, and let the drunks pleasure themselves through the bars all over you. If we can't come to a deal here sweetheart, you may be able to earn the rest of your money later from them. One dollar at a time is the way it works these days I hear."

Beth realized why the woman was so ruthless with her now, Beth wasn't a fellow human being to her, but a casual thief that got off light because she was pretty. It was an eye opening experience for her.

Without another word Beth pulled off her favorite high heels and handed them through the bars. She had to put her pretty feet up on her cot one at a time to roll down her expensive silk stockings, and both policemen stared as if they were watching a crime in progress, as there was no way to do such a thing that wouldn't arouse any man. Beth gave the woman one last pleading look, which she ignored as she held out her other hand for the pretty underthings.

Beth pulled her camisole off over her head, there was no modest way to do it, and it raked her already erect buds as it slid by. All three just stared at her flawless body, fully displayed once she stepped out of her lacy panties like some Greek statue, and oh so neatly trimmed... Beth quietly asked for her prison jump suit as she attempted to hide her charms from their leering eyes with two strategically placed arms, thinking to herself that this was purported to be the easiest part of her ordeal, and knowing it was far too late to back out.

The policeman holding the jumpsuit made no effort to move. "Prison jump suits are two dollars", he stated mater of factly, and the three of them just smiled at Beth...


Beth was removed from her cell fifteen minutes later, barefoot and wearing her small and short stripped sack like dress, but horrified at what she had to do to earn it. Never had she done so much for so little. She was taken in cuffs and leg irons to the photographer for her mug shot, and she was posed and photographed with her alias name, and fingerprinted like the petty thief they thought her to be. She spent the first part of the night in her cell, confident she would never tell a soul how she paid for her prison jump suit, intending only to start her story once at Grandview...

She was woken in the middle of the night, and marched barefoot down to the sidewalk to stand in her cuffs and leg irons on the wet sidewalk, only to see a procession of nine other young ladies in similar attire lead to a stop in front of her. They were chained together in line like a team of stock animals, and she found it dehumanizing even before she assumed her position among them. Their ankle cuffs were connected by a stout chain left and right, and each center chain had another running to each set of ankle cuffs in turn, forcing the ladies to all walk together, but fortunately not in step with each other.

Their wrists were cuffed in similar fashion behind their backs, and the chain connecting them ran between all the ladies legs, hiking their stripped suits perilously close to revealing their female charms when tension was applied. Another chain ran from each set of cuffs to the center chain on the girls ankles, as if they could somehow escape if it weren't there. Beth was hitched first in line, even though it would have made more sense to place her last, as the entire group had to be disconnected from the paddy wagon leading them to accomplish this.

With Beth hitched first in line behind the paddy wagon, and the light rain once again falling, the policemen got into the truck and it drove off. The policemen were warm and dry inside, and kept a slow pace with the truck so the barefoot ladies could keep up behind. It was only a couple of city blocks to the train station on the thankfully empty streets, but by the time they arrived the ladies were soaked to the bone and it was obvious they wore nothing underneath their stripped suits.

Once again there was the same reporter and photographer from her paper there to document the event, but she doubted their picture would ever make it off of the editors desk with her body displayed as it was, not to mention the condition of the other ladies who had been in the elements far longer. She had rejected the advances of both men once, and it seemed as if they were enjoying their assignment just a little too much, and possibly all three men would find a purpose for the lewd picture she wouldn't approve of. She knew most men were after all little better than trained animals!

Beth was first into the train car, as she was the first in line. She was uncuffed and encouraged to crawl into a low cage by one of the policemen, it obviously meant for some barnyard animal far shorter than she. She laid down on the straw bed and hid her head to sleep before the other ladies were even loaded into their cages. She thought about her last time on a train when she traveled to the big city to accept her present position, a porter to serve fine wine and food, and a comfortable seat from which she could watch the landscape fly by at unbelievable speeds. She wondered now if there were girls like her caged up in back of that train as well.


Beth woke to a sunrise shining through the gaps in the planks of the train car, and it being roughly unhooked from the others on a track spur. The two day trip was not very comfortable, but at least they were fed and given water every time the train had to stop. Each of the ladies were unloaded from their cages one at a time by several teams of large men, who first placed sacks over their heads before removing them from the train car. There were startled noises and protests briefly heard by Beth from the preceding ladies through their hoods, and then only the frightening clank of steel on steel.

When it was Beth's turn she was as terrified as the others, but allowed herself to be led outside with the sack blinding her as well, and forcing her to trust the lead of the two men assigned to her. Her stripped jail suit that smelled awful after two days wearing was ripped from her body, exposing her to the warmth of the sun and the unseen eyes of the appreciative men. She didn't bother struggling as the men fitted her just like the others with a soft leather harness, it more fitting a work horse than a human. Nor did she when they removed her sack and fitted her with a head harness and soft bit.

The men riveted the straps of the soft leather body harness closed after fitting it snugly with a practiced skill, without a scratch or bruise to be found on any of the ladies. The ladies only concession to modesty being a leather loin cloth sewn into the front of their lower harnesses. The hammers and anvil the men used explained the horrifying noises she had heard earlier, and obviously implied the harnesses weren't coming off anytime soon.

As each woman was harnessed she was led to the front of a great wagon, and they were hitched to it two abreast. A single leather strap behind each team ran from the wagon's frame to the rear ring of each women's harness, and another ran from the front of that harness to the rear ring of the next woman's in line. When the team was assembled each woman would pull on the woman behind her as well as the wagon, and it was therefore in everyone's best interest to keep up with whoever was in front less she get crushed if both straps were pulled in different directions. The odd arrangement forced all of the ladies to work together, or at least to keep up with the leader.

Beth was overwhelmed with all she saw, (despite the rumors she had heard), just as the other ladies were, but when the shock passed her keen powers of observation kicked in. She watched the actions of the men first, and it all seemed like it was routine for them, like just another day at work harnessing up women as work horses. Their eyes lingered on some of the women more than others, but that was to be expected. Women come in all kinds of shapes and sizes, and men have their preferences, just as women do. She realized she was a favorite target of their wandering eyes despite her rather small breasts, just as the policemen earlier had singled her out for special treatment in her holding cell.

All of the other ladies were looking down at the ground, ashamed to be harnessed up like work animals, or possibly by the crime that made it possible. Even as the others were moved into position in front of the large wagon, Beth could tell they had no idea they were going to be pulling it. She knew this just by looking, as there was no other apparent way for either them, or the men to get to the fine looking estate on the hill in the distance that had to be Grandview. Beth wasn't put in line like the others, and she assumed it was because she was the smallest of the group.

The other ladies were finally assembled in a four by two team, with another in the center front of them, a yoke chained to her rear harnesses' ring, with two straps running off of the ends of it and attached to the front rings of the two ladies behind. Beth wondered where she fit into this little team, and the other ladies shot her dirty looks as if she were special. It wouldn't be the last time.

None of the men bothered to speak a word to the other ladies, but the wagon driver approached Beth and spoke just loud enough for her ears alone. "You are the smallest one here, but possibly the smartest as well. The position of lead pony for this team is up for grabs. Lead pony is hitched last, and unhitched first, but receives the whip first as well. The reins run to your bit alone, but you must also listen for the proper commands of your driver if you don't want to find yourself in line with the others."

Beth was put in front of the single woman, a leather strap running between them, with Beth's only responsibility to follow her commands and pull the second in line the direction the driver directed. She would have the responsibility of motivating the others to follow both of them.

Beth thought the Pulitzer was as good as hers.


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