Item #37 by Sogo

It all started out as a joke.

The local riding club was planning its annual auction to support the stable, and a couple of the young women decided to auction off one of its members dressed as a pony. Expenses were high, and it was thought that such a stunt would bring in some much-needed revenue. They chose Brianna, one of their best riders, who agreed to be the “pony girl.”

The 19-year-old statuesque blonde had bought a nude body stocking and, before the auction began, had swept her hair up into a mane, which she held in place with a series of small combs. But unbeknownst to her, her friends had more elaborate plans in mind.

As Brianna checked herself in the dressing room mirror, Wynona and Bekky came in with a large box.

“Here you go, girl.”

“What’s that?”

“Your pony tack. I found a website that was having a sale.”

The blonde thought her friend was joking, until the other girl began pulling out the leather-and-buckle restraints.

The girl swallowed hard. “You don’t really expect me to wear that do you?”

“You want to be a convincing pony, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but—“

“Don’t be a scaredy-cat.”

“Well . . . all right.”

Brianna stood there apprehensively as her two friends strapped her into the harness and bridle. The rubber bit tasted awful, but there was nothing she could do about it, as her wrists were now cuffed and clipped to the back of the harness.

Wynona had made sure the boots were the right size, though Brianna thought the five-inch heels were a little too high for comfort. There was even a tail that clipped to the back of the waist belt of her harness.

“There,” said Wynona, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “Perfect.”

The newly-made ponygirl was surprised to find that she kind of enjoyed her helplessness, scary as it was.

Bekky held up a piece of paper. “I printed out your ownership contract,” she taunted, smiling sadistically. “To make it official.”

Madison burst into the room. “We got the—“

She stopped dead at the sight of the fully-equipped ponygirl, her mouth dropping in stunned silence.

“Doesn’t she look awesome?” said Wynona proudly.

Madison could barely get the words out. “you look hot!”

Bekky laughed. “She’ll fetch a million dollars, for sure.”

Brianna thought her friends were taking things a little bit too far, but there was nothing she could do or say about it now.

Wynona clipped a lead to one of her bit rings. “Let’s see you prance.”

Brianna gave some half-hearted steps. Madison found a riding crop and gave her a sharp swat on the behind. “Prance.”

The ponygirl felt a sharp burst of anger-—her friends were really pushing it now. But she had no choice. She pranced.

“Good girl. Now practice your pony sounds.”

She whinnied and neighed, feeling more and more ridiculous.

On the auction floor, no one had any idea what was going on in back.

“Item thirty-two is dinner for two at Big Bob’s Steak House. Bidding starts at ten. Ten. Do I hear twelve. Twelve—

Brianna was led out of the dressing room. She began to know what real stage fright was like.

“Our last item, number thirty-seven, is a mystery. Does anyone . . .?”

Wynona walked out onto the floor and took the mike from the auctioneer. She grinned as she faced the crowd.

“Our last item is a real live girl pony that you can own and train for a full year.”

There were gasps and giggles as Brianna was led out, prancing and shaking her mane. She whinnied as enthusiastically as she could, feeling her face burn with shame.

“The bidding starts at $500.”

Hands shot into the air. The bidding went higher, higher. Within five minutes, the ponygirl had sold for over $10,000.

The girls hugged their harnessed and bridled friend. The bidding had exceeded all expectations.

As the crowd broke up, the winning bidders came to get their items. The man who had made the winning bed, a grizzled rancher in his fifties approached the girls.

“That’s a mighty fine lookin’ filly,” he drawled. “She broken in?”

“No, but she’s a quick learner. Just sign the ownership papers and she’s yours,” laughed Bekky.

He scrawled his name, then took the lead. “Let’s go, girl.” He was a few inches shorter than her, but stocky and a bit overweight.

As the blonde was led reluctantly away, she glanced back at her friends. Surely the joke had gone far enough by now.

But they just laughed and waved. Brianna was taken out back to the parking lot, where her owner tied her lead around a fence rail.

“Wait here, girl. I’ll be back with a trailer.”

The girl stood there out in the open, feeling more foolish by the minute. If she could have, she would have freed herself and taken off. But with her hands secured behind her and a thick bit in her mouth, that was impossible.

As people headed for their cars, they spotted her. Brianna tried to put up a brave front as they pointed and joked. She was actually relieved when she saw a car pull up with a trailer.

Just then, her three friends came rushing out. “Oh, my God, Bree! We are so so sorry!” said Wynona.

Bekky was nearly in tears. “I fucked up, Bree. I downloaded a contract off the internet, and I didn’t realize that it was legally binding.”

Brianna felt the world drop out from under her.

“You see, he owns you for the next year, and there’s nothing we can do about it. We thought he would let you go, but he’s serious! You’re his legal property.”

Tears clouded the ponygirl’s eyes as she screamed and threw her head around, trying to free herself from the fence rail. No! This couldn’t be! She was going back to college in the fall, and she couldn’t do it if she was penned up like an animal!

The rancher stepped out of his car. “All right. That’s enough! You girls leave or I’ll call the cops. I won’t have you upsetting my new filly like that.”

“Filly?” screamed Wynona. “She’s a woman, a human being, not an animal!”

“Not according to your contract. For the next year, she’ll be trained and treated like a pony. Now, get out of here!”

The girls walked away in tears. “We’re gonna get her back, you hear?”

“Then I get my ten thousand back.”

The rancher opened up the trailer, then untied Brianna and led her over. Knowing she was trapped, the girl went along meekly, her horseshoes clanging dully on the metal ramp.

The rancher positioned her in the center of the trailer. Brianna began to shake as her new owner took a length of nylon rope and started looping it through the rings of her harness and the metal bars over the side windows. When he finished, she was imprisoned in a web that extended like two wings on both sides of her upper body.

She heard a ripping sound, and knew what was coming next. She tried to protest, but her bit prevented speech. She tried twisting her head away, but he gripped her lower jaw in one hand as he pressed the duct tape over her eyes from behind. His preparedness scared her. Had he somehow found out her friends’ plans beforehand?

Something soft was pressed into her ears, and Brianna only heard the rushing of her blood. Duct tape kept whatever it was in place.

She felt him move away from her, and then there was a jolt, and she knew that the back was being closed. The bound girl began to cry, knowing that this was real, and that her whole life was about to be changed because one of her friends had made a stupid mistake, and no one on earth could free her.

The trailer lurched, then bounced around as it moved forward. The young woman had no idea where she was being taken and, with her eyes and ears rendered useless, she would be unlikely to figure it out. All she knew was that she was going to be transported over public roads in her bound and helpless state for who knows how long. How many people would see her like this and not do anything? Or maybe no one else would see her. Either prospect was terrifying.

She could sense that they were going down various types of roads at varying speeds, a warm breeze coming in through the windows. She lost all track of time, and soon drifted off into a half-awake state. When the trailer finally did stop, she shook herself awake with the realization that she was now at her destination.

Brianna felt the trailer rock a bit, and she tensed. The duct tape and stuff was removed from her ears, and the duct tape peeled from her eyes.

“Welcome home, girl.”

The bound ponygirl gave a tiny whimper of fear.

He bent down behind her, and she felt something close in around her ankles. Hobbles. He wasn’t missing a trick. He didn’t want to risk having her kick him and run away. There wasn’t much chance of that anyway, as the high-heeled pony boots were killing her feet.

It took him a couple minutes to untie her, and then he clipped a lead to one of her bit rings and led her out. The ankle hobbles only allowed baby steps, but the man was patient.

The first thing that hit her was the smell of farmlands, and then the sound of crickets. It was dark, and all she could see were trees and faraway hills. A dozen feet away was a building that looked like a stable (her new home?). None of it looked familiar. Did her friends or anyone else know where she was?

“I suppose you have to pee.”

Brianna realized she did, badly. He tied the end of the lead to a tree branch slightly above her face. The girl swallowed hard. Here? Out in the open? She wanted to protest, but knew that that really wasn’t an option right now.

She let him duct tape her fingers together, then stood there as he unclipped her wrist cuffs and loosened her harness so he could work the body stocking down off her body, leaving it bunched up around her ankles. He retightened the harness and clipped her cuffs back to it. She was wearing thong panties, and he twisted those off to one side, exposing her pussy. The ponygirl felt a mixture of shame, anger, revulsion, and fear. A whole year? And this is how it was starting out? How much worse could it get?

“Okay, go ahead.”

The tall blonde squatted and peed, her head turned awkwardly to one side from the taut lead that yoked her to the tree. When she finished, she stood up.

He blotted her dry with a handkerchief and pulled her panties back into place. He then finished removing her body stocking, which took a few more minutes because of the hobbles and pony boots. The boots stayed off, but the hobbles were put back on.

Despite her height and young athletic body, Brianna was feeling more vulnerable than ever. She let him take her into the stable, the feeling of dread getting heavier and heavier by the moment.

He stopped at a stall. “This one’s yours.” Brianna inhaled sharply. He couldn’t be serious. But she knew he was. He led her inside and tied her lead to a ring that was head-high on the wall.

“I’ll be right back.” He closed the front gate of the stall and left.

The reluctant ponygirl could hear and smell the horses in the other stalls, and could no longer find comfort in them. How far was this thing going to go? Was she going to be trained with them? Eat like them? She knew she had to escape at the first opportunity, but that possibility looked increasingly remote the further things went along.

She looked around her. Her stall was small, with bare wooden walls and hay on the floor. She hoped she didn’t have to sleep on that.

The man returned ten minutes later with a plastic gallon jug in a sling, which he hooked to a bar in the corner of the stall.

“I know you’re hungry, so I made a vegetable and fruit smoothie. You just put your mouth over the opening of the jug and pull down to let it flow into your mouth. I’m going to remove your bit, and I want no talking, or you’ll go without dinner. Is that understood?”

The ponygirl nodded, frustrated at the total control he was exercising over her life.

He unclipped the one end of the bit and pried it out of her mouth, peeling it away from her dry lips. “Now, I gotta get some more things, so just enjoy your dinner.” He patted her on the head and left again.

Brianna did as she was instructed, tilting the jug forward gingerly. Suspicious, she tasted a little bit first before gulping any down. Flavors exploded on her tongue, and her stomach growled in response. Brianna drank.

When she had had her fill, she collapsed against the wooden side of the stall. “Oh, God,” she wailed, “why can’t somebody help me?”

“Hey! What did I say about talking?”

Her owner had returned carrying a deflated air mattress, a bicycle pump, a blanket, and a pillow, which he dropped to the floor. He also had a riding crop, which he used to give her ass a few good whacks.

She cringed, and tried to back away, but the lead prevented her. The man was stern. “You’re gonna have to learn pretty quickly what you can and can’t do here, or your ass will be redder than a fire truck.”

He forced the bit back in her mouth, overcoming her resistance. The tall blonde stood there, bawling like a baby. The man ignored her, and went about inflating the air mattress. He arranged the pillow and blanket on top.

He dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, then had her blow her nose in it before unhitching her and guiding her down onto the mattress. As Brianna lay there red-eyed and sniffling, he tucked her in and kissed her forehead.

“Get some sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

At dawn, Brianna awoke to more humiliation.

“This is Derek. He’ll be your trainer and groomer.” Her owner then turned to Derek. “We’ll see about getting her some sports bras.” Then he was gone, leaving her alone with this second strange man.

The ponygirl looked out at a handsome man in his thirties. Normally, she would have found him attractive; here, he was terrifying.

He took her outside to pee. Derek pulled her panties to one side, then held her lead as she arched her pelvis forward and emptied her bladder. The young woman closed her eyes, feeling her face burn with shame. She flinched as he blotted her dry with a tissue and snapped her panties back into place.

Breakfast was another smoothie in a jug, after which Derek removed her panties.

“I see you keep it nice and trim down there. Looks good.”

Thanks for noticing.

The panties stayed off. The pony boots went back on, though. And then he took her outside.

There were other trainers. Male trainers. With horses. She was the only woman, and she was bound and naked and humiliated. Was it only yesterday she was a free woman with ambitions and goals?

Derek led her over to a corral with a training carousel. “Got one more for ya.”

There were four horses on the carousel. The man in charge looked Brianna up and down, then stopped the motorized trainer. The ponygirl averted her gaze. She didn’t want to look him or any other man in the eye and see the lustful desire in their faces and wonder what thoughts were going through their minds.

With a firm hand, Derek took her into the corral and clipped her lead to one of the overhead arms. Brianna found herself circling around and around with a bunch of horses, trotting just like they were. It was then that she truly realized how dehumanized she had become, how she had become just another animal to be trained and used with little regard for her personal feelings or intelligent mind.

That afternoon, the hapless ponygirl was hitched to a cart with several other horses—she was now just part of the team—and they took a trip down one of the country roads. At first, Brianna was intimidated by the close presence of these huge animals so close around her, but she soon felt a kinship with them and, it seemed, they with her. It was as if, despite their physical differences, they sensed that she was one of them. She found herself beginning to snort and neigh and whinny as she came to an understanding of their situation and feelings, and even relieved herself as they did whenever she felt the need.

They had told her she would be trained as a showpony, and she spent hours being rehearsed in dressage routines. They bought her sports bras, but cut little holes in the centers of the cups so that tiny bells could be clipped to her nipples. This bothered her at first, but she soon came to accept the erotic pinching and tugging of her nipples and the tinkling of the tiny bells as part of her training.

They wanted her to hold her head high, so they incorporated a neck corset into her tack, and they wanted her to thrust out her chest more, so they bound her arms in a sleeve behind her to arch her back. It was more pain and discomfort to add to the high-heeled pony boots, but at this point the ponygirl had become adept at blocking out the warning signals given out by her body. Even so, her trainers weren’t totally insensitive to her condition—-they gave her body massages and foot soaks every night.

She knew she was being prepped for something, but she didn’t know what. There was more to it than just a sexual power game of turning a young woman into a submissive performing animal. But exactly what they had in mind, she didn’t know. A stage show? A public performance at an event? Perhaps even a video or a live broadcast over the internet? She had no idea.

The fact that she was surrounded by men eventually ceased to bother her, as they treated her as just another equine. Contact was limited to bathing, grooming, and dressing her in a brisk, impersonal manner. Conversation was limited to instructions and praise. The tall blonde pony welcomed this non-threatening environment, but there were times that she craved a little dirty talk or a rough male hand caressing her body, perhaps even a kiss or a good hard fuck. But she was a pony now, and such things were apparently forbidden.

In the meantime, her friends had not forgotten her. They went to lawyers, who looked over their contract and shook their heads in impotence. The document was iron-clad. They went to the media, who treated it as a joke. It was just too kinky and ridiculous to be taken seriously. They went to human rights advocates, who saw it as too personal and trivial compared to global abuses that needed attention. For all they knew, this could be a fetish thing and she could be enjoying it, right? They hired a private detective to track her down, but he said he needed evidence of a crime. There was no crime, because she had participated willingly, hadn’t she?

As a last resort, they established a web page detailing their friend’s life and accomplishments, and asked for help in locating and saving her. All it attracted were trolls and false leads. They only thing they could hope for was that she was still in good shape when her contract ended and she was freed.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, Brianna soon found herself settling into her routine. It was oddly comforting and-—dare she say it?-—rewarding. She enjoyed the attention, the security, the easily-attainable goals and the rewards of chocolate and other treats that came with mastering them. And over time, it no longer bothered her when they bathed her, or trimmed her bush, or gave her the occasional douche.

Then one day, she was dressed in high-cut panties as well as her sports bra and loaded onto the horse trailer again and taken away. As she stood in the trailer, trussed up and with her senses cut off, she wondered where they were taking her and why. She wasn’t scared, as she knew they weren’t going to harm her, not after all those months of training and care.

Eventually, they stopped, and Brianna inhaled the rich smells of the country. Well, that’s certainly encouraging, she thought. She felt the trailer shift as someone entered, and then the gooey substance was picked out of her ears.

“—another side of equestrian life, one that few people know about. We are now going to give you a demonstration of human pony training. You’re all adults, so I think you can handle it, okay?”

The voice outside was female, and the ponygirl wondered who she was talking to. A demonstration? So this was what she was being prepared for. She was surprised to find she wasn’t the least bit nervous.

Brianna was led out of the trailer by her reins. There were a number of gasps as she pranced down the ramp, all of them female from the sounds of it.

She was instructed to do a half-turn, and she faced almost two dozen young women dressed in riding clothes. Their astonished looks and whispered comments told her that this was something entirely new to them.

“Okay, girls, quiet down so we can begin the demonstration.”

The ponygirl was put through her paces, performing a variety of dressage routines before her open-mouthed audience, her nipple bells tinkling merrily. There were a few giggles, which the instructor put a quick stop to. She stumbled once, earning her an immediate swat on the ass with the riding crop, which startled many of the students. After a half-hour, the demonstration was over.

“Okay,” said her owner, “question and answer time. She will paw the ground once for No, twice for Yes.”

Nearly all the girls eagerly raised their hands.

“Do you enjoy being harnessed and trained like that?” Yes.

“Do they treat you well?” Yes.

“Are you allowed any freedom at all?” No.

“So you enjoy being a ponygirl twenty-four-seven?” Yes.

“Are there any ponyboys?” Brianna hesitated.

Her owner stepped in. “There are. She just hasn’t met any.”

“What about sex?” asked one, which earned her a reprimand from the instructor.

“Perfectly legitimate question. Sex is only allowed for breeding purposes or as a reward for champion ponyboys.”

The questions went on for several more minutes before Brianna was led back into the trailer and strapped in.

“Looks like all that talk about sex has got you all worked up.”

The tall blonde reddened. Her panties were soaked.

When they got back, she was given a scoop of ice cream as a reward, something that she had been denied ever since she had been bought. Masturbation, however, was forbidden, a topic which hadn’t come up at the riding camp, and Brianna was unable to relieve her sexual frustration.

The statuesque pony went on to make many more appearances at colleges, state fairs, and other places that attracted young athletic women, sometimes two or three a week. It was pretty obvious now that she was being used as a recruiting tool to get more young women to become ponygirls. She wasn’t happy about it, but at least the audiences got an idea of what they would be getting into.

As word of the blonde ponygirl’s recruitment efforts got around, her friends didn’t want to believe it, but they soon had to face the fact that their old classmate was fully committed to her new lifestyle. They gave up their efforts to have her freed, feeling betrayed.

As the months went on, the horses were sold off, and they were replaced with ponygirls. Brianna found herself training these new recruits, some of whom she recognized as audience members at her numerous demonstrations. They were the cream of the crop, girls who could’ve been supermodels or famous actresses, but who were now bound in restraints, penned up in small, bare stalls, and completely controlled by strange men every minute of the day. It was then that the poster girl for equestrian submission saw what her life was like when mirrored in the anguished faces of her “students,” and she did not like it.

When they tried to take her to the next demonstration, she refused to get into the trailer. Her rebellion did no good. They took one of the promising new recruits, instead. Brianna was demoted to mule, reduced to hauling wagonloads of rocks, firewood, and garbage as new trails were made for ponygirl training. It was hard work, and she was whipped frequently no matter how good a job she did. She found herself longing for her old life back, and consoled herself with the fact that freedom was only a few months away. She could hold out that long. She had to.

She was kept isolated from the others. The tall blonde could only watch from afar as the fresh-faced ponygirls worked in teams, or bonded when resting in one of the corrals. Her heart ached to have friends and a social life again.

More girls were brought in, and soon they were crammed two to a stall. Brianna didn’t want to think of how she had been party to so many girls being enslaved. Intelligent girls who were now nothing more than beasts of burden, trained animals doing menial tasks.

“It’ll be one year next week,” said Wynona. “We’ve got to be there for her. Show her we still support her and that we did everything we could to get her free.”

Bekky and Madison nodded in agreement. They all felt guilty about what they had done and wanted to make amends. In that time, they had completed another year of college, had gotten engaged, celebrated birthdays by being able to drink for the very first time. Brianna had had none of that. They didn’t want to know what landmarks she had celebrated. They thought back uneasily to the reports of her giving demonstrations, and didn’t want to even speculate how the captive girl had changed over the months. Would she still be the same girl they had known since they were little girls?

“I hope nothing’s happened to her. I haven’t heard of her being seen for, like, months now.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t think he would do anything to harm her.”

But still, there was the nagging feeling that some accident or unforeseen medical problem had hospitalized or even killed her.

They ordered a huge cake with Welcome home, Brianna! written on it, and flowers, and some of her favorite foods. The next auction was a few days before her release and, with bidders expecting another ponygirl, the fund-raiser was a big disappointment when none appeared.

When the day came, the trio waited at the stable in nervous anticipation. Their friend would finally be free from her bondage nightmare.

“This is it, girl. One year ago today I became your owner. All that is over now. Now let’s get you in the trailer, shall we?”

Brianna couldn’t believe it. It all seemed so unreal. Her life before being a ponygirl was rapidly becoming a nostalgic memory, and now here she was, about to re-enter her old life. How long would it take for her to adjust back to what she was before? Life without restraints and constant orders and strange men attending to her most intimate needs. Privacy, clothing, freedom to move and do what she wanted—it all seemed so unreal.

She practically trotted across the lawn and into the trailer. She stood patiently as they strapped her in securely and sealed off her senses. It was only a matter of hours now until her new life. She could barely contain her excitement.

The tall blonde’s mind drifted off, lulled into a dreamy euphoria by the steady gentle movement of the trailer. How much time passed, she had no idea.

The ponygirl came to with a jolt as the trailer stopped. Her heart pounded with excitement. It was only a matter of minutes now. The trailer lurched as someone entered, and then hands began releasing her from the leather straps.

Reins were clipped to her bit rings. She still had on the blinders and the wax in her ears, so she had to go by the tug of the reins to guide her out. When she felt grass under her pony boots, they had her stop, and they removed the blindfold and wax.

Brianna blinked. Her elation turned to confusion when she looked about and didn’t recognize the stable and training grounds.

“Welcome home,” said the rancher. “I sold you right before your contract expired. You have a new owner now, and he can own you for as long as he wants.”

A wail escaped from Brianna’s throat as her world spun around and she dropped to her knees, tears pouring from her eyes.

It was getting dark. The three girls were worried. The flowers were wilting, the cake was getting stale.

“Where is she? She should be here by now.”

They looked toward the dirt road, expecting to hear a vehicle or see a dust cloud at any moment. There was nothing.

THE END

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03.12.17