Pony for Rent 2: Competition

Part 2: Competition

“I’m afraid you have a bit more work ahead of you than I thought” Stephen confided. “As I said before, Showmanship is more about the handler than the pony, so I was thinking that we would automatically qualify for the semi-final round. But the judge’s decision is that because we haven’t competed together before we need to work our way up from the bottom. “

There was an amazing crowd of ponies and handlers milling about the entrance to the arena. Comparatively, there was almost no one in the stands, and Stacy wondered if that was because everyone was in the paddock. When their group was called they had to work their way through the crowd to enter the arena. Even before entering, Stacy was in show mode, her head held high, back straight, and her steps crisp and precise. Stephen held the lead at waist level, and Stacy kept a slight loop of slack, matching him step for step. The blinkers on her bridal limited her vision to straight ahead, but from what she could see it didn’t look like there was anything to worry about. Altogether there had been 50 ponies led into the arena that were now going through their paces. In very short order the field judge motioned to Stephen, who then led her to the center of the arena. Nine more contestants joined them in the center, one at a time, and then the remaining 40 contestants were excused. The loudspeakers announced, a brief round of applause, and Stacy was led out.

The crowd was a little thinner the next time they had to enter the ring. Her fellow ponies wore more elaborate tack, their maneuvers were a bit more precise. Stacy was the second pony pulled into the center this time, followed by 8 more.

It was a much smaller group waiting in the paddock area prior to the third round. Plastic horsehead was there. Wait, is that the Old Gray Mare again? Stacy smiled, amused by the thought of her winning. She turned her attention to the arena, where the semifinals for the stallions was underway. MMM, nice! Stacy thought as she watched the nearly naked men perform.

Stacy could feel the change when she went in for her semifinal round. There was a small crowd in the stands now, emitting a soft murmur of voices as the ponygirls paraded past. She picked out a few key words, such as “unicorn”, “mane”, or “sparkle” and she knew that she was being noticed. It made her proud, and her strut showed it. A cheer erupted through the crowd, although the blinkers prevented her from seeing what it was about. Another cheer, and then another. At last Stephen turned her in such a direction that she could see what the cheering was about: In the center of the ring stood three contestants. Two more cheers echoed through the crowds.

They were now overtaking The Old Gray Mare and her handler. The couple moved slowly, but precisely. Stacy could see that there was a considerable amount of grace and style in how she moved. Stacy’s pace was faster and just as they were about to pass the judge was stepping forward. Stacy smiled, and was anticipating Stephens turn to the center when the judge called the Old Gray Mare’s handler by name and directed them to the center. A wild cheer erupted from the grandstand, but Stacy’s heart just dropped.

The remaining contestants were directed back toward the side of the arena where they had entered from. Was that it? Had she lost? Stacy was heartbroken. But instead of exiting, they were all lined up, facing the crowds and judging table. The field judge approached the line at Stacy’s far left. ‘Damn these blinkers’, she thought. ‘What is happening?’

At last the field judge moved into her field of view. “Your honor, may I present Morning Rose” Stephen said. Taking her cue, Stacy bowed deeply, holding the position until Stephen gave her an ever so subtle jerk on the lead. Stephen turned and faced her, the signal to remain in place, and then he backed away as far as the lead permitted. The judge looked her over, taking note of her breasts and genital area. He ran a hand down her leg, felt under her heel, down to where her foot terminated into the hoof. Was he verifying that she in fact was not supported by her heel?

Then he was out of her view, and Stephen resumed his normal stance. Stacy waited, and waited, and then spotted the field judge heading towards the other judges located just in front of the grandstands. The judges conferred, and there was a lot of pointing, some at her, but also at others. After what seemed to be an eternity a slip of paper was passed up to the announcer.

“Will the following teams please step forward:”

“White Shadow” A round of applause from the crowd, and a pony girl on Stacy’s left moved ahead into her limited vision.

“Wiked Delight” Another round of applause, another team moved forward.

“Morning Rose”

Stacy let out the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding with a loud woosh! She didn’t hear the crowd, or who the tenth team to advance was.

- * - - * - - * - - * -

They had about an hour before the final round, and Stephen used the time to fine tune the tack. Alice and Mary reappeared and were touching up the makeup and brushing out her mane. Stephen provided her with drinks of water and some snacks, which he fed to her one bite at time, making her eat it out of the palm of his hand. Roleplay, she thought.

When they moved into the paddock area there was already a fair crowd waiting. Stacy immediately spotted The Old Gray Mare, and recognized the teams that had advanced from the semi-final round. A few of the others she recognized from the Champions Reception earlier that morning. And “They” were there, that bitch who called her a whore and her obnoxious pony. Worse, they were headed her way.

“Stephen” the bitch called out. “You look so dapper this morning!”

“Theresa.” Stephen replied flatly. “And you look as evil as ever.”

“Stephen! Such hostility doesn’t become you!”

“Of course, you are right, where are my manners?” Stephen said. “May I present Morning Rose?”

Stacy could detect the pride and adoration in her Master’s voice as she bowed. As her head reached her knee, however, that bitch’s pony stomped her hoof, sending a spray of dirt and dust up into Stacy’s eyes. Stacy jerked back upright, her eyes flaring with rage and might have lunged at her rival had Stephen not reeled her lead in tight.

“Not bad, for a start.” Theresa said. “When do I get to complete her training?”

“The fourth of never.” Stephen replied. “Not in a million years!”

The hostility between them was unmistakable, which surprised Stacy. She hadn’t seen Stephen react this way with anyone else. The two ponies were staring each other down when the gate opened to the arena. Theresa moved off first, her pony breaking the staring contest to follow. As she turned, Stacy read the bright silver tag on the side of her bridal “Fury’s Star”.

Was she the ponygirl that had been stolen away from her Master? Was that what all the animosity was about? Did completing her training have something to do with it?

The final round took much longer than the semi or quarter finals did. The ponies where paraded around, made to turn left, right, stop, backup. They had to stand at Parade Attention, Parade rest and bow. All the judges came out onto the field and inspected each competitor closely, taking note of not only the pony but the handler as well. Eventually each pair was pulled out and positioned into a single file line, which proceed to parade around the arena.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN” the announcers voice boomed “ PONIES, DOGS, AND CRITTERS OF ALL SORT, MAY I PRESET THE BEST OF SHOW”

Stacys heart sank as she realized that they were in finish order, and she was a long way back. As the front of the line turned the corner ahead of her she could see that the bitch and her pony were in the front of the line! Plastic horse head was in third, and few positions back from that was The Old Gray Mare.

Things were a blur after that. Stacy vaguely remembered getting to the center of the grandstand, an amplified voice calling “And in 9th place, Morning Rose”. Stacy bowed, and noticed her groomers, Alice and Mary, cheering wildly for her. She didn’t feel the same excitement. She got beat by someone who could have been her grandmother! And that bitch and her mare were in first place!

Once outside the arena there was a crowd of well-wishers. Handlers were shaking hands and congratulating each other, spectators were heaping praise on the contestants. Stephen snapped Stacy’s lead sharply when she didn’t respond. Stacy quickly dropped into a bow, and when she came back up Stephen grabbed hold of her bridal and pulled her face close.

“You’re upset” he said

Stacy nodded, the tears starting to leak from her eyes. She wanted to speak, she wanted to tell him how that bitch had insulted her, how she tried so hard to prove them wrong, how this whole thing was just so unfair! Stephen put a finger to her lips, silencing her.

“You did great!” he told her. “Now don’t start crying! Alice will have a fit if she has to totally redo your face! “ Stephen pulled her in close and hugged her tight. “I am so proud of you!”

Stacy looked down when he released the hug, she didn’t feel so proud. She felt like a whore dressed up in a pony suit.

“Hey!” Stephen said, pulling her chin up. “Ninth place is damn good! Top twenty in all events qualify for the banquet tonight, which was my major objective.“

Stacy just frowned and stomped a hoof.

“Hey, let me let you in on a little secret. The Showmanship class, it’s just a big popularity contest. First place was established before we went into the arena. There was no chance for you to win that, and I am amazed that we made it into the top ten.”

Stacy’s mood lifted just a bit.

“You said you were a marathon runner, would you try to lead in the first mile? No! You stay with the pack, in striking distance, but wait until the final stretch. Ninth place in the first event is not only striking distance, you are practically leading!”

Stacy looked at him quizzically.

“Showmanship is pomp and circumstance, all subjective, how good the tack looks, how dressed up the pony is, how I present you. The next two events are where you will shine. Dressage is exhausting, most of these girls won’t have the stamina for it, and a quarter of the field won’t even bother entering. And the sulky race, I know for a fact that Fury’s Star can’t run to save her life! Now, there are a few that will really give you a run for your money, especially because they aren’t wearing the high heeled hooves, but they placed well behind you in showmanship.”

Stacy considered his words and her mood lifted.

“Now. Come on, give me a smile!” She did, and he hugged her tight.

- * - - * - - * - - * -

Music played through the loudspeakers as the ponies took to the arena, each high stepping sharply. The dressage competition only needed one class, although it was fairly large, at least 70 ponies, all vying for clear space in the arena.

The first phase was compulsory moves, where the required move was called out on the loadspeakers: ‘Passage’, judged on the upper thigh being level, calves being vertical, the quickness of the move and stability of the rest of the body. ‘Piaffe’, where pony strides in place with no forward movement ‘Half Pass’, where the pony and handler face forward but move diagonally. ‘Side Pass’, where the pony faces forward but moves sideways. Canter, lead change, pirouette and other commands were called out. The ponies had to be careful to switch modes on their handlers command instead of the announcer.

Next came freestyle, where each team did their own thing while music blared through the speakers. Stacy would jerk one knee up high, hop on one foot, then kick out straight with another hop before planting the foot and repeating with the other leg. Stacy noticed that the mares who didn’t have their arms bound behind them included elaborate arm movements in their step. A few ponies had elaborate dance routines they were performing.

Stephen was not joking about the Dressage being exhausting. It seemed like the contest might be decided by attrition: a mare right in front of her twisted an ankle and went down hard and had to be carried off the field, crying hysterically. Plastic horsehead collapsed and had to be helped off the field. That didn’t surprise Stacy at all as she could image that outfit being incredibly hot and suffocating. Many others were simply slowing down and becoming lethargic until the judges motioned them to the center of the ring, effectively ending their competition.

Three couples ahead of them were that bitch and her traitorous pony. Wait, did she just trip? Stacy’s hope swelled and she doubled her efforts, raising her knees sharply, the kicks getting even stronger, her head held steady. The music blaring through the sound system had a nice beat and she adjusted her pace to match. She could do this all day if she needed to. Bring it on, bitch!

More than half the contestants had been moved to the center of the ring before the music stopped and the remaining ponies were asked to line up, random location but in row ahead of the drop outs. Two more mares collapsed at that point and had to be helped to the back row. The judge approached Stephen, he presented her and Stacy bowed. The judge moved on to the next pair, the mare bowed, and kept right on going, falling into the dirt at the judge’s feet. She quickly scrambled up, but was still directed to the rear line.

The judge motioned to a contestant to her right, and Stacy watched as the couple moved forward and took the first place position. A motion to her left, and second ponygirl was in line. And then the judge motioned to her. Really? She got third? And that bitch-mare was NOT in front of her! Stacy proudly pranced to her position.

It was not a requirement to continue the Dressage steps as they left the arena, but Stacy was making a point: She wasn’t tired! In fact, she more than just pranced; she swished her tail and tossed her head, sending her mane waving in the light breeze. She saw a few people point, and heard a comment or two. It felt good.

The top ten contestants were directed to the trophy area, which had bales of straw set about, loose straw on the ground and set against a background of rosebushes. The trophies were handed out, individual pictures were taken, and then a group picture. Congratulations followed, and Stephen was busy conversing with admirers.

Stephen had left a lot of slack in her lead, and wasn’t paying her any attention at all, which bothered her to no end. ‘That was the last event for today’ Stacy reasoned. Stacy was remembering the time she showed her horse at the county fair, and then he tried to eat the straw that had been set up for decoration. Well, she wasn’t going to eat it, but she had another idea. She dropped to her knees, then plopped over onto her side in the soft straw. She heard a concerned gasp from those who could see her, which turned to laughter as she started rubbing against the straw, turning onto her back and kicking her feet in the air. Now she knew why horses did this, it felt good!

“Hey, git up you!” THWACK! Stacy yelped and rolled to her side, but she was unable to get her feet back under her in the soft straw. THWACK! The crop caught her on her hip and she rolled to her stomach. THWACK THAWCK! The crop struck across her buttocks before she was able to pull her knees up, then rock back onto her feet.

“Oh, you are going to get it now!” Stephen said.

‘Oh, I hope so’ Stacy thought.

- * - - * - - * - - * -

Bits of straw still clung to her hair and tack when Stephen led her to the washing station. There was a line and Stacy watched as numerous animals of all sorts were washed down by their handlers. There was a lot of sensuality going on here, a lot of touching that was not for the purpose of cleaning. Down the way Stacy watched as a Master bent his ponygirl over and fucked her from behind. In this setting it all seemed so normal.

Her show tack had been removed, replaced with a training halter and simple wrist cuffs. The extra arm movement felt good, but now she felt naked. And very aroused. Despite the full immersion, ‘no pay’ change in their deal Stephen still hadn’t done anything sexual with her, and she was getting sexually frustrated!

When it was their turn Stephen tied her mane up on top of her head and carefully hosed her down. The water was cool, but not objectionable and it felt good in the late afternoon heat. He carefully washed her down with a sponge, rubbing vigorously where the skin was open and dabbing softly where the Rhinestones still clung to her skin. When he started washing her backside she leaned against a post for support, and when the sponge traveled down her buttocks she stuck her butt out and spread her legs wide.

‘Could she make it any more obvious what she wanted’ Stacy wondered. ‘ Please, Please touch me there!’ The sponge passed between her legs, brushing her labia softly. Stacy moaned, wriggled her hips, but the sponge moved on. ‘Damn’ Stacy thought.

Alice and Mary met them as they exited the wash station and set about fixing things. Mary had to reattach numerous rhinestones, and Alice had to practically start over on her makeup. Stephen brushed her hair, and the three of them helped her back into her tack. It had been washed down and smelled faintly of disinfectant. A halter had replaced her bridal, but otherwise she was the same as when she left the hotel. Stacy wished that there was a mirror; she wanted another look at that beautiful creature she had seen early that morning.

The evening banquet was held on the same patio that the morning reception had been. There were a lot more in attendance, however. Stacy recognized many of them from the earlier competition. Plastic horse head was there, and didn’t seem to be any worse for the wear, but Stacy wondered what the body underneath all that PVC might look like. A girl on crutches and her leg in a cast hobbled by, and Stacy realized that she was the girl who twisted her ankle in the dressage competition. The Old Gray Mare was there. And of course bitch-pony was there, throwing daggers at her with her eyes. Stacy smiled and gave her a polite nod: ‘Back at ya, bitch!’ she thought to herself. Stacy was looking forward to meeting her on the race track. ‘My turf’ she thought.

Normally, Stacy hated social dinners; they were always so boring, but not this one. Her master was frequently giving her a bite to eat or a sip of his wine. Countless people stopped to chat, and Stephen would proudly introduce his ponygirl. Stacy would bow, and then stand proud as Stephen pointed out subtle details of the tack or her makeup and hand out his business card.

The dancing was a bit awkward with her arms bound so tightly behind her but she really enjoyed how tightly he held her as they swept across the floor. The time seemed way too short when Stephen was escorting her out.

- * - - * - - * - - * -

“The original deal was a hotel room.” Stephen said once they had reached a private spot. “I’ll honor that, if you wish. Long day tomorrow”. Stacy pawed the ground twice: No.

“There is no one here but us, you can speak.” Stacy pawed the ground twice, long hard strokes. NO!

“Have I told you I love you?” Stephen joked. ‘No, you haven’t’ Stacy thought bitterly. “Come along then.”

Stephen led her to a large warehouse type building where there were neatly stacked pile of boxes and sulkies. Stephen found his pile, which had been shipped ahead and unlocked one of the large steamer trunks. He carefully removed all her show tack and placed it safely away in the trunk. The show tack was replaced with a leather halter, leather wrist cuffs and her training hooves

The stables were impressive, to say the least. The place was immaculately clean but there was still an unmistakable aroma of livestock to it. As large as the stables were Stacy realized that there were far more ‘animals’ than there would be stalls. Sure enough, all the stalls were occupied, most with several like animals: stallions in one stall, mares in another, dogs in one, bitches in another. The ponygirl stalls outnumbered all the others combined. Stacy was relieved to find that she was NOT sharing a stall with that bitch-mare, as she suspected that one of them wouldn’t survive the night if they were together.

“Now, this is a serialized plastic tie holding your wrists together” Stephen told her. “It’s worth points if it is still intact in the morning. But if there is an emergency, or any sort of issue at all, you just break that and get free, you understand?” Stacy pawed the ground once. “Good girl! The stall doors will be sealed with a similar tie, and the latch is outside. Easy to reach and break if your hands are free. Don’t hesitate if there is a problem! Understand? Good, I’ll be back for you first thing in the morning!”

Stephen pulled her into a hug, and then gave her a kiss. As their lips touched Stacy melted into him, wishing that her hands were free so she could hug him back. She opened her mouth, allowing her tongue to probe, but he broke off the kiss.

“None of that now or I will end up taking you back to the hotel!” Stacy was thinking that wasn’t a bad idea at all. But then he gave her another peck on the cheek and was gone.

Stacy looked at her stall mates, trying to establish who they were. They all looked so different when they weren’t in their show tack. Stacy was sure that she was easily identified, as she was still wearing her unicorn headdress, as removing that would likely take hours, and the mane may not be reusable. She was sure that none of them were in the top 20 of either the Showmanship or Dressage. She noted that two of them were NOT wearing the high heeled hooves, but instead were wearing something pretty close to running shoes.

“Lights out in ten minutes!” a voice shouted. Somewhere down the row two mares were chatting away, apparently not caring if they lost points or not. A sudden flurry of dog barking erupted as a handler checked his cat into the only stall reserved for felines. Stacy wondered if it was coed or if there weren’t any male cats.

A stable hand walked the row, making sure all the stall doors were secured and placed a serialized tag on the latch. And then the lights went out. At least most of them. A dozen lights high in the structure showed a weak light, casting eerie shadows. Bright red EXIT signs shown like beacons at all the exterior doors. The dogs stopped barking, but the two mares continued to chat, just a little quieter.

Hours later Stacy awoke from the commotion coming from the stallion stall across the way. The front of her stall was a heavy pipe grid, obviously built so that it could contain small livestock as well as horses, but allowed Stacy to a fairly unimpeded view out into the main aisle. A stallion was climbing out, an impressive feat with his hands tied behind his back! His stall wall went up at least 8 feet, but was open above that. He managed to climb up and jump over.

Stacy glanced up at the top of her own stall, and was relieved to see that the stall was closed all the way to the ceiling. She was wondering what his next move would be when one of the mares in her stall jumped up and met him at the door. They nuzzled through the door for a minute, and then the mare turned around and pressed her ass up against the bars of the door, and the stallion took her right there through the bars! There were some snickers, but otherwise no one reacted. When the two had completed their act the mare turned back to face the door, obviously looking for some additional nuzzle. The stallion, however, just turned and climbed back into his own stall. The mare finally stamped her hoof and threw herself into a corner.

- * - - * - - * - - * -

Stacy awoke to find one of her stall mates spooning her from behind. She was startled at first, but realized that it had been a bit cold during the night and their shared body heat did feel pretty good. It was just getting light out and things were starting to happen. Stacy rolled to her feet and was waiting anxiously at the door when the stable hand came by.

Stacy had been told that years ago the ponies were expected to urinate and defecate in their stalls just like a real horse would. But then the health department got involved and now there were porta-potties for that purpose, which was just fine with Stacy. Her need was getting urgent, as the wine that Stephen had fed her the night before had really impacted her. After relieving herself she was directed to a holding pen where all the ponies waited to be collected by their handler.

The first handler to arrive was greeted with an enthusiastic whinny from his ponygirl, who ran to the gate to meet him. A similar greeting awaited the next handler. When Stacy saw Stephen coming, she had a different idea. Stacy stood near the gate, but with apparent disinterest. When he entered the pen, she started slowly meandering away, as if she didn’t see him. When he started moving towards her she moved to keep as many other ponies between them as she could, eventually breaking into a run. Stephen gave chase, finally trapping her into a corner. Stacy continued to play “hard to get”, turning her head this way and that as he tried to clip a lead to her halter.

THWACK! “NIEEGH” Stacy cried out. That crop was really starting to hurt! Game over, Stacy allowed him to attach the lead and followed him out. Stacy noticed several judges taking notes as they left.

Just then, the Mistress for the fornicating pony arrived. There was a round of snickers as she claimed her pony, and then everyone glanced away when the Mistress looked their way. The Mistress eyed her pony suspiciously, and when her pony failed to meet her gaze the Mistress grew angry. She thrust her hand between the mare’s legs and wiped, bringing her fingers up for inspection.

“Why you little slut!” the Mistress barked. Without another word she dragged her reluctant pony over to the fence and pulled her head through between the horizontal rails. The lead was tied to the lowest rail, forcing her head down, ass up. Then she started beating the helpless ponygirl. Not the little love taps that Stephen had given her, but full force lashes. Angry red stripes were appearing across her buttocks and upper thighs as the hapless girl cried out and writhed in agony.

Stacy stomped and looked at her Master with pleading eyes. “She has her safeword, remember?” Stephen said. “It would be inappropriate to interfere until she safewords.”

Stacy couldn’t bear to watch as the cries turned to sobs, and then to silence except for the sickening sound of leather against flesh. When the whipping finally stopped Stacy brought herself to look and was horrified at the condition of the girl’s backside. Many large raised welts had formed from just above her knees to her waist. There were small spots of blood oozing from several spots, and skin was a mottled mess of red and purple marks.

Stacy thought the girl to be unconscious and was surprised to see her stand without help when her lead was released. The ponygirl backed out from the fence rails, turned and dropped to her knees at her Mistress’s feet, kissing them reverently. The Mistress allowed that to continue for a minute before hauling the ponygirl back to her feet. The two stared into each other’s eyes, one glaring , the other crying.

“I forgive you.” The Mistress said. Fresh tears and sobs from the ponygirl, and then she buried her face into her Mistress’s shoulder. The Mistress patted her head and held her tightly for a moment before pulling her head back and kissing her. The kiss was returned in a prolonged display of affection.

“Show’s over” Stephen said. “Need to get ready for your race!”

Stacy wasn’t sure what exactly had just happened, and she was even more surprised to find that she was a bit wet between her legs.

- * - - * - - * - - * -

The sulky that Stephen had shipped was one that she hadn’t seen before. It was feather light, and all the aluminum surfaces were polished mirror bright. It was elegant in its simplicity, two drawbars extending back ten feet before curving inward to support a seat and footrest. The wheels, resembling those found on a bicycle, were supported by a triangular frame. The whole thing weighed less than 40 pounds while still being sturdy and well balanced.

The drawbars attached primarily to her waist belt, but there were also straps that attached to a strap located just above her breasts and fastened to the sulky a few feet back. By leaning forward she could transfer most of the strain to her upper body. They would also hold her face up in the event of a fall. Standing upright, the weight of the drawbars and passenger rested on her hips.

She had been put back into her show tack, Alice and Mary had touched up a few spots, and once again she was that gorgeous creature. She proudly strutted as Stephen steered her through the crowds. Stacy almost laughed at some of the other carts she saw. Some were elegant, more like a surrey, complete with the fringe on top. One looked a bit like a Roman chariot, with the handler standing instead of sitting. Another looked like it had been cobbled together from electrical conduit and old bicycle parts. The most comical one had been constructed out of an old wheelchair.

Not all the carts appeared to be heading towards the race track, however. A rather large and heavy hay wagon passed them going the other way, being pulled by 8 stallions, driven by a pair of Mistresses. A pair of mares, hitched up side by side, towed their Master towards the display booths.

“You’ll have two heat races, one lap each, and then a two lap final” Stephen told her. “Everyone will have the same, so the field will be even in that regard. Top four in each heat progress, so we won’t be pushing it any harder than we need to until the final.”

Stacy looked out at the track and decided that it did look pretty even. In fact, the typical soft dirt used for horse racing had been steamrolled into a hard, flat surface. It was still a mile around the track, but at least the cart would roll easily. The start line was set up at the end of the near straightaway, just before the clubhouse turn. The finish line was right after the final turn, making the actual length a little less than 3/4 of a mile. This format also allowed them to be queuing up the next start while the previous race was finishing.

Stacy was in the second heat of the day, and she was literally chomping at the bit to get going. Eight teams lined up side by side: Wheel chair was on her left, Roman chariot to her right.

“Heels” Stephen said loudly. On his command, Stacy rocked back on her feet, shifting her weight as far back on the hooves as she could. Slowly her heels sank to the ground until she was flat footed.

The starting gun fired and Stacy leaned into her chest strap and lunged forward. ‘Damn these blinkers’ she thought as she approached the first turn. She wanted to cut to the inside but she had no idea if the path was clear. There was no one she could see in front of her, but if she drifted over into a cart in her blind spot it could cause both carts to topple. She was totally reliant on her driver, and wondered if he knew what he was doing. ‘Should have talked strategy beforehand’ she thought.

“Whoa, ease up there girl” Stephen called as he started easing her to the rail at the clubhouse turn. Stacy could only trust in her master so she backed off, slowing her pace a tad. As they cleared the first turn Stephen was pulling back on the reins, and she slowed her pace to a fast jog. The long back straightaway was uneventful, and she was still in the lead as they reached the second turn. She couldn’t see anyone, she couldn’t hear anyone.

Exiting the final turn she had her first surprise. Far ahead of her, just exiting the first turn, were two of her competitors. They must have tangled and been delayed. The next surprise was when she started sprinting towards the finish but Stephen reined her in. “Take it easy, girl!” he coached. “No one anywhere near you!” Stacy jogged easily across the finish line. Stephen guided her to the outside rail where she could watch the rest of the field cross the finish.

Another sulky, similar to her own, crossed second, the mare and handler both giving her a nod as they passed. The two mares looked each other over, sizing up the competition. Stacy immediately recognized the muscle tone defining her calves and thighs; she was a runner. Stacy also made note that she wasn’t breathing hard.

Surprisingly, Roman Chariot was third. Stacy later learned that the driver hopped off and helped push the chariot at the start, a move that brought protests. Fourth and fifth was actually a close race, both teams fighting for the spot to advance. The two sulkies that had tangled before the first turn crossed sixth and seventh. Sadly, wheelchair team placed last, despite having a head start had been passed by the two sulkies that tangled in the first turn.

There were four more mare heats and three stallion heats before Stacy would be racing again. Stephen moved her to a shady spot and tended to her, giving her drinks of cold water and feeding her snacks. He wiped her down with a damp cloth, removing all the dust and sweat. ‘A girl could get used to this attention.’ Stacy thought to herself.

The second heat was a bit more crowded, fielding 12 teams instead of 8. Roman Chariot was notably absent, having been disqualified for the driver’s assist. Stacy was glad that both the teams that were fighting for 4th place ended up advancing. And the bitch mare was there, having the luck of drawing the inside lane. Was it luck? Stacy wondered just how level this field really was.

The gun fired and Stacy leaned into her straps. She was a long distance runner, and wasn’t used to quick starts. Immediately she saw other teams pull in front of her, making Stacy realize that winning this heat may not be so easy. There was considerable congestion as they entered the turn, and Stephen steered her to the outside, forcing her to run a longer distance. Stacy was disappointed that she didn’t get up against the rail, and was infuriated when the bitch mare passed her on the inside lane. The team that had placed second in her first heat was leading, and based on the rate that she was pulling away Stacy guessed that she had been really holding back in the first heat.

Entering the back straight away Stacy was in 7th place. There was no tension on her reins so Stacy leaned forward and pulled hard. Stephen had to steer her 3 lanes wide to get past the two immediately ahead of her, and then she easily slipped past bitch-mare as they entered the far turn, claiming the inside lane.

“Easy does it” Stephen coached, pulling back slightly on her reins. “Fourth is as good as first!”

There seemed to be some sort of commotion as Stephen guided her out the exit gate. Seems that bitch mare was grunting, waving a hoof frantically and jerking her head towards Stacy. Stacy rocked forward onto her toes, extending her hooves to the high heeled position. ‘Go ahead and complain, bitch, but I could have beat you even without these hooves!’ Stacy thought.

“Now listen” Stephen said. He was spraying her down with a misting water bottle and wiping her down, providing a welcome relief from the heat. It wasn’t even noon yet and the temperature was soaring. “All you have to do is finish and we will be in the top 10 overall. You don’t need to kill yourself out there!”

Stacy looked at him bewildered, and pawed the ground twice. She had run marathons in far worse conditions that this, she saw no reason to ‘take it easy’. Stacy was a competitor, there was no way she wasn’t going for the win.

Eight teams took the field for the final race. Stacy made note of their tack as they filed out, only one of them had the high heeled hooves, 6 others were wearing essentially running shoes with a plastic flap over them. Stacy’s hybrid hooves allowed her to run heel to toe, but they were heavy. Two of her competitors had petite women drivers that couldn’t have weighed more than 100 pounds, compared to Stephen that tipped the scales at 180. This was not a level field at all.

BANG!

Stacy leaned hard into the harness, but Stephen was immediately pulling her back. Stacy eased up, realizing that he was right. This race was two miles; it wouldn’t be won at the first turn. The start/finish line had been moved to the center of the grandstand straightaway, which allowed more space for each team to find their spot, and Stephen gracefully guided Stacy towards the rail well ahead of the clubhouse turn in seventh place. She had to slow her pace even further to avoid overtaking the team in front of her, and as they exited the turn Stephen steered her to the outside. Stacy accelerated; passing two teams before Stephen reined her in again, entering the far turn in 5th place.

As they passed the grandstands on their first lap they moved up into 4th place, and could hear the whoops and hollers from the crowd. The blinkers didn’t allow her to see but she was sure that she heard Mary and Alice screaming their lungs out. She was tailgating 3rd place at the clubhouse, claiming that position within a few strides of exiting the turn. Stacy recognized first place as the team that placed second in their first heat, and was dismayed by the commanding lead that she had been stretching.

“EASY, EASY! Stephen called. “NOT YET!”

She was right behind 2nd place as they approached the far turn, but the pace had picked up considerably and it was obvious that if she was going to pass it would have to be on the outside. Instead, Stephen held her into the rail, keeping pace. As they exited the turn the pace turned into a full on sprint.

“YAW! YAW!” Stephen called. Stacy leaned forward, putting her weight into the upper straps. A slight tension on her right rein and Stacy headed to the outside, but the team ahead of them moved to block. Stacy automatically started moving back to the left, but Stephen held her to the right. Stacy was confused but obeyed. Then she caught sight of first place, or who had been first place. She had run out of steam and had slowed considerably. They had barely passed out of Stacy’s limited vision when there was a tug on the left rein. Stacy darted to the left, claiming the rail and took off, easily overtaking the team in front of her.

The look of shock on that petite woman’s face when she looked over her left shoulder and saw them passing was priceless! “FASTER, FASTER!” she screamed, grabbing her whip and lashing violently at the mare’s backside. Stacy had no idea what she thought that was going to do, and predictably the poor girl faltered, almost tripping when the whip caught her across a hamstring. The competitor had passed out of her field of view as she sprinted across the finish line.

“Very impressive” A field judge said as they made their way back to the exit gate.

“Marvelous!” Mary called out as she hugged her. “Incredible!” Alice agreed. “Stephen, is there anything else that you need, we are about to take off?”

“No, we are done!” Stephen said. “We’ll just be taking it easy until the judging closes, and then go back to street clothes. Thank you so much for your help!”

“Always a pleasure to work with you!” Mary said. Hugs were given all around and the groomers left.

- * - - * - - * - - * -

“Let’s get this sulky back and then maybe we can check out some of the canine action.” Stephen suggested. “They can be amusing sometimes.”

Stacy felt elated, but also sad. It was over. Almost over: role play, start to finish. Stacy gave her best imitation of a trot as they turned out of the race track paddock and headed back towards the warehouse. Then a gathering of ponies off to the left caught her attention. Stacy stopped, stomped a hoof and nodded in that direction.

“Oh, that would be the cross country run.” Stephen said. “It’s just for fun, roughly 10k. Doesn’t count for high point.”

Stacy turned towards it, but Stephen pulled her back. “Not much to see there, once they start. “

Stacy shook her head, pawed the ground twice, and then started running in place.

“What? You’ve already run enough; I’m not making you do that too!” Stephen said as he tried to turn her away. Stacy stomped, and refused to move.

“OK” Stephen sighed. “Have it your way.”

“Is it too late to sign up for the run?” Stephen asked at the registration tent.

“Well, they are starting right now, but if you want to bring up the rear just sign here!”

Stephen scribbled the necessary information onto the form and quickly made his way back to the sulky.

“Now listen” he told her sternly as he pinned their entry number to his shirt. “We aren’t racing, just for fun, got it?” Stacy nodded and stomped her foot, telling him to hurry up!

The entrants where lined up, side by side, in large field about a hundred yards from where they were. There were all sorts of ponies and rigs there. The hay wagon with 8 stallions was dead center. Stacy spotted the zebra cart, complete with the two dogs off to the left. There were a number of stallions that were carrying their Mistress piggyback style. Several tandem teams pulled small four wheeled wagons.

Then the starting gun fired and she was still standing at the registration booth! Stacy was about to take off without her Master when he finally hopped up into the seat. “WHOA! HOLD ON” Stephen shouted. “Let me get set before you take off! All right, YeAW!” THWACK!

‘OOOO, you take that long getting ready and then hit ME with the whip?’ Stacy growled to herself. All the other entrants were disappearing into the woods and they were still a long way from the starting line.

The cross country course was exactly that, across the country. Mostly dirt roads and trails, with an occasional dash down a paved road. It went up hill and downhill, across creeks and fields. Through the flatland it was easy enough, the sulky barely slowing her down. It was less than a quarter mile before Stacy was passing stragglers, ponies that had already slowed to a walk. Stacy wondered if they would finish before dark.

They caught the hay wagon at a creek crossing, the stallions having become stuck trying to get the heavy wagon up the bank. Stacy paused, as the trail was blocked. The stallions backed up, getting room for a rolling start, then strained forward, but still failed to lift the rear wheels up the bank. They backed up some more, almost to where Stacy was standing. Stacy turned her head, leaned forward and put her shoulder against the back of the wagon. As the stallions pulled she pushed, lifting and heaving the rear wheels up over the bank.

Stacy backed up a half dozen strides, then sprinted toward through the creek, splashing water from her hooves and wheels. She leapt up the bank and strained hard against the straps, forcing the sulkies wheels to hit hard and launch up the step, almost catapulting Stephen out of his seat. Stephen hollered some sort of protest but was too busy hanging on to do anything. The Mistress pair driving the hay wagon waved and hollered their thanks as she passed.

Up ahead was one of the decorative surreys that Stacy had spotted earlier. The lyrics from an “Oklahoma” song popped into her head:

“Chicks and ducks and geese better scurry, When I take you out in the surrey, When I take you out in the surrey with the fringe on top!”

It was pretty, but heavy. Neither the stallion or his Mistress seemed to mind their slow pace, they were just enjoying the ride. Stacy was enjoying her run as well; it had been a long time since she had felt such exhilaration from her running.

They were passing at regular intervals now, having caught the pack. The zebra cart was getting a push assist from the dogs, but still going slow. A Mistress walked beside her stallion, the strain of carrying her piggyback having been too much. A mare was walking, pulling her Master in a sulky. A stallion pulling a surrey attempted to give chase as she passed, but he was quickly left behind.

They passed a water station, and Stephen forced her to stop and drink, even though she didn’t want to. She took a sip of the water offered, and when she refused anymore the rest was poured over her head. Stacy shook the water out of her eyes and took off.

Stacy ran on and on, dropping into a pace that she knew she could maintain for hours. Running has always been Stacy’s escape mechanism, a way to shut her mind down from whatever bothered her. It has always been in solitude, just her and the trail; the rhythmic sound of her own footsteps the only sound that mattered.

This was different, she was not alone. The surrey creaked and clanked, bouncing noisily over any irregular surface. Her Master was constantly chattering away, offering encouragement or, more often than not, admonishing her to slow down. The drawbars yanked and tugged at her harness, often threatening to throw her off her feet, which only added to the exhilaration. Having him there gave her a sense of pride, of accomplishment. It felt good. Damn good.

Stacy was actually disappointed when they exited the woods and the field from which they had started appeared below them. It was a slight downhill run to the finish, and she could see that there were already a number of teams that had finished. There were three more teams in front of her, but only one was possible for her to catch with the remaining distance. Stacy leaned into the straps, her master eased off the reins and she sprinted towards the finish.

“YAH BOY, GIT UP!” the driver called as Stacy closed on the competitor and attempted to pass. The stallion strained against his harness and the race was on! The race was a mismatch from the start, as he was pulling a driver half his own weight and was wearing running shoes. Stacy gave it all she had but finished a full stride back. The stallion gave her a polite nod, the driver a salute. Stacy felt a strange sense of belonging, like these were her people.

Once across the finish line there were several people that came up and talked to Stephen. Some were interested in her show tack, others were inspecting the sulky, and they all accepted a business card from PGTACK.COM. Everyone was amazed to learn that they had just won the sulky race before the cross country race, and Stephen had her demonstrate the convertible hooves. Stacy beamed with pride whenever Stephen mentioned how well she had done.

- * - - * - - * - - * -

It was 4:00, the judging period was officially over. Stephen had Stacy back in the warehouse, removing all her tack, transforming her back into a human. Stacy wanted to stay a ponygirl, wear the tack, serve her Master. But reality lay elsewhere. Many of her rhinestones had been dislodged during her run, and between her sweat and the drink she had refused (which was then poured over her head) her makeup was a frightening mess! Besides, she stank, bad!

Stephen wrapped her in a terrycloth robe and escorted her to the washing station and waited patiently as she showered. Several other ponies, both male and female, were getting washed down as well, but by their handler. ’ How anticlimactic’, Stacy thought. She would much rather have him washing her down. ‘I guess this means the show is over.’

“Great news” he said excitedly as he escorted her back to the warehouse. “The judges want to interview you before the results are final! That usually means you are being considered for one of the top positions!”

‘Great’ Stacy thought grimly. Would this be where they ask her about being a whore? Would that be grounds for disqualification? Stacy wondered where the bar was with a group that promoted nudity, public fucking and potentially abusive behavior. She silently put on the simple evening gown that had been packed away with the gear, fighting back the tears. Stephen didn’t appear to notice.

They were barely on the patio when a waitress held a tray of champagne flutes in front of her. Stacy took one, primarily just to be polite. She nervously took a sip, then another. She hadn’t realized how quickly she drank it until another tray was being presented to her. ‘I wonder if they are trying to get me drunk’ Stacy thought. Not a bad strategy, get the girl drunk and she’ll tell you anything. Stacy waited until she was sure no one was watching and then poured half of her new glass into Stephens, and then just pretended to sip the drink after that.

“My dear, you are just as ravishing as a human as you are as a ponygirl!” the lead judged exclaimed.

“Why, thank you!” Stacy exulted, although in her mind alarm bells were going off. She was out numbered, facing a panel of six judges, three men, three women. And she had to face them alone; Stephen had been barred from the room. “This has been all so exciting!”

“You performed so well this weekend, you must have been preparing a long time!”

“Oh, yes!” Stacy replied. “We have been training for months!” It was technically not a lie, as there had been portions of two months that the training had taken place in.

“Have you competed under another name before? We can’t find any record of you anywhere!”

“No, this is my first competition” Stacy admitted. There was no other answer to that one.

“Have you trained under any other Master or Mistress?”

“No, not really” Stacy said. “I did some training on my own, but it was Master Stephen who really should take credit for my training.”

“How did you come to be in Master Stephen’s care?”

“Well, he found me actually. We met online, and things just progressed from there.“

“From one of the ponygirl websites?”

“You should probably ask Stephen.” Stacy said cautiously. “ I am not sure which website he found me on. I have a number of different profiles scattered about: Facebook, Myspace, Oklahoma State Track team, “

“You were on the track team!” One of the other judges interjected. Stacy sighed with relief; this was a much better direction to go.

“Oh, yes, or at least I was!” Stacy said proudly. “I had a four year scholarship from the track and field department. But it’s taking 5 years to complete my studies, so this last year has been rather hard, and I am no longer eligible for the team. “

“So you are still in college now?”

“Yes, I will be basically done at the end of the month, with the exception of my internship. My parents want me to walk now, however.”

“And where do your parents live?”

“They are in Tulsa, about two hours away.” Stacy said

“Are they aware of your equine interests?”

“My family has owned horses since before I was born.” Stacy replied.

“I was referring to your ponygirl interests.”

“Oh!” Stacy said, blushing. Of course they were. “Oh no, I’ve never said anything about that!”

“You emulated a horse quite well” a different judge said. “Was that from your being familiar with them?”

“Yeah, that was all stuff my horses would do.” Stacy said bashfully. This was another safe direction to go.

“Is there any significance behind your ponygirl name?”

“It was the name of my first horse as a child.” Stacy answered truthfully

And the questions went on and on. What type of work she did, financial support from her parents, her student loan amount, her assets, or lack thereof. Stacy was about to scream before they were finished.

“How did it go?” Stephen asked.

“Like shit!” Stacy snapped. “You could have warned me about that, at least agreed on what our story was going to be!”

“What story?” Stephen asked.

“Did you really want me to admit that I was a whore you paid to play pony?”

“Whore?” Stephen asked, bewildered.

“That’s the rumor going around, that I am nothing but a whore dressed up in a pony outfit.”

“Who said that?”

“Theresa!” Stacy cried. “She said it to my face while you were at registration!”

“Oh, I am so sorry!” Stephen said.

“Fury’s Star is your ex, isn’t she?” Stacy demanded.

“I suppose you could consider her as that.” Stephan admitted. “Our relationship was purely platonic, I assure you. We worked together for several years. Then I made the mistake of getting her a little cross training from Theresa, and she ended up stealing her away from me.”

“Well, that explains why she hates me.”

“She left me!” Stephen declared. “I don’t know why she would be taking anything out on you!”

“Because she loved you?” Stacy shot back. They worked together for several years, and he describes their relationship as platonic? “Never mind, it’s water under the bridge now.”

Stacy spun away from him, marched off to the patio, grabbing a champagne flute from the first waiter she saw and downing it in one shot.

“Welcome, one and all!” The announcer’s voice boomed. “The results are in! I know you are all anxious to head home so I will keep it brief, I promise!” A round of laughter and applause. “In the feline division, we have…..”

It seemed to Stacy that the awards went on and on. She no longer cared; she just wanted to go home. But first there were cats, and dogs, and unspecified critters, and Stallions, and finally mares.

“Voted most regal, for the 8th year in a row, Trevor’s Folly!” The applause was thundering, whoops, hollers and whistles. Stacy scanned the crowd and was not surprised to see The Old Gray Mare and her handler heading up to get their award.

“Best Master/Pony bond: Prancer’s Dancer!” Stacy was surprised to see the pony she witnessed being whipped mercilessly prance up to the front. She ran back, clutching the trophy tightly and just about knocked her Mistress down as they embraced.

“And we have a new category this year: Pony most deserving a Spanking: Morning Rose!” A roar of laughter and several people were pushing Stacy towards the front. “Thank you” Stacy said sheepishly as she accepted the award and slunk back.

“And now what you have all been waiting for, Best Overall High Point!” Stephen stood behind Stacy, holding her shoulders firmly.

“Second runner up, Greased Lightning!” It was the pony that she had barely beaten in the sulky race. Stacy applauded loudly, she was genuinely happy for her. “This pony put in a solid performance in all categories, exhibiting style, grace and all the characteristics desirable in a ponygirl, both in the arena and out” Greased Lightning accepted the trophy, thanked the judges, held the trophy overhead and let out a loud whinny.

“First runner up: Morning Rose!” Stacy wasn’t sure she heard right, but Stephen was shaking her violently and pushing her forward. “Morning Rose was a surprise spoiler this year, placing remarkably well in the judging categories, and sweeping the field in the sulky race. Not only did she take top honors in the required race she immediately went on to enter the 10k cross country, claiming the first mare position despite missing the starting gun by several minutes!”

“Congratulations” The judge said as he handed her the trophy.

“Thank you, I am honored” Stacy replied.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I can’t wait to see this pony’s performance next year! “ A round of applause, several shouts of ‘Here, Here’.

‘Next year’ Stacy thought miserably as she worked her way back. ‘Right! Like there will be a next year’.

“And in first place, Starlight Delight!”

- * - - * - - * - - * -

The wait in the airport terminal was agonizing. To allow ample time they had booked the last flight out, and now they had several hours to wait. Stephen was elated, talking to friends via cell phone, occasionally greeting another competitor as they too worked their way through the terminal. Stacy just stared at the check for $2860 that covered the second half of training payments, $1000 for the weekend plus $1000 bonus for “successful completion”. That was it, account paid for services rendered. Stacy wanted to tear the check into tiny pieces and throw it away, but damn she needed the money.

“I’m sorry.” A soft voice said. Stacy looked up and was shocked to see the bitch pony standing next to her. Stacy immediately started gathering her stuff to move.

“Wait” she said. “We all got off to a bad start, and I’d like to apologize for that. Name’s Cheryl” she said, offering her hand in greeting.

“Stacy” Stacy responded, shaking her hand weakly.

“He’s clueless, ya know”. Cheryl continued, sitting in the chair next to her. “He be a brilliant artist, a master engineer, but he ain’t got no common sense.”

Stacy nodded.

“Y’all were fantastic this weekend” Cheryl said. “I still think those hooves are cheatin, but you really shined at everything. If you had a handler that gave a damn about you, first overall would be a cinch!”

Stacy sniffed and wiped her eyes. She might have said something but any attempt to make noise would likely turn into a cry.

“Look, I am sorry about them nasty comments, especially the whore part.” Cheryl said. “I was horrified when Theresa said that, as I had been in your shoes, er, hooves myself. Stephen sees nothing wrong with this relationship, how he uses people.”

“I was his pony once.” Cheryl continued.

“I figured that out.” Stacy choked out.

“The shows and events were always great, wearing his tack was always a thrill, and he has a budget that allowed us to go to all the events. But then we would go back home and, and nothing. It felt like a string of one night stands, months could go by without a word. The highs were great, but the lows were miserable.”

“Then he sent me to Mistress Theresa. Said I needed work on the roleplay aspect, and she was to train me. We kinda hooked up in an emotional way, and I got a taste of what that could be like. I told Stephen that I wasn’t coming back just to goad him into taking things to the next level. I expected Stephen to pursue me, fight to get me back, finally claim me as his. Instead, he found you, so I guess I lose.”

Stacy recognized the sorrow and anguish in her competitors face. In a sense, it was like she was looking in a mirror. Facial features were a bit different, eye color different, but otherwise the same.

“They are about to board our flight.” Stacy looked up and saw Theresa. “Well done, Morning Rose, you earned and deserved that trophy. If there is ever anything I can do, don’t hesitate to give me a call.” Stacy took the offered business card.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!” Stephen barked.

“Oh, Stephen, finally decide that you should pay attention to your prize?”

“Leave her alone!” he hissed.

“Hey, I’m just picking up your discarded toys. If you don’t want others playing with them, take better care of them!”

Stephen’s fists clenched and he looked like he was about to hit her.

“Come along, Fury, we have a plane to catch. And honey, if you want a trainer who will actually care for you, give me a call, I’ll find someone to hook you up with!”

“Ignore that evil witch!” Stephen said.

“Thank you” Stacy mouthed silently as she watched Cheryl and Theresa head off to their gate. “I might just do that.”

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21.10.13