It was still dark when Master woke me.  I had been in a deep sleep, but his kisses and his touch gently brought me from my slumber.  "This is a very special day, my dear," he whispered in the darkness.  "I have decided on what to give myself for my birthday."  As he talked, he worked swiftly, first helping me into a black spandex suit, then placing my collar around my neck and cuffs on my wrists.  Pushing me back on the bed, he kissed me deeply, then handed me heavy wool socks and black hiking boots.  I looked up at him, but knew not to question his authority.  After I had placed them both on my feet, he held his hand out and I took it.  Saying not a word, he led me to the truck, opened my door and put me in.  As we drove out of the driveway, he patted his lap and I curled up on the seat next to him.  He stroked my hair and I was quite content, although excited about what he had chosen as a present to himself… and wondering what my role would be in making it happen.

"Time to wake up, little one," he said.  Waking with a start, I shook my head to clear it; I must have dozed in the safety of his lap.  The sun was shining brightly now; at least an hour or so had past since we left the house.  "You have a busy day ahead of you; that's why I allowed you to nap," he told me.  I looked around us, we were in the country, but I did not know where.  He steered the trucked onto a long driveway and the silence as we headed up the long path heightened my anticipation.  I looked up questioningly at him, but he just smiled and stroked my hair.  The truck came to a stop and I turned to look at the surroundings.  There was a huge barn to the right and paddocks of various sizes all around.  Sitting on a hill a few acres away was a beautiful statuesque house.  His hand had never stopped running through my hair.  "You said that I could have anything I wanted for my birthday," he said gently.  "Does your offer still stand?"  My head turned quickly, our eyes meeting.  I smiled and nodded enthusiastically, "Yes, Sir, of course it does."

Getting out of the truck, he walked over to my door and opened it.  Snapping a leadline on my collar, he gave me a quick kiss before motioning for me to hop out of the truck.  The air was still brisk and my skin tingled, due to both excitement and the chilled breeze.  He walked me to the back of the truck and tied me to a stanchion that I had never quite noticed before.  Turning me around, he fastened my wrists behind my back.  I looked around nervously, not knowing for sure that we were alone.  When he brought my bridle and pony gear from the cab of the truck, my eyes danced with glee.  I adore becoming a pony for him and if it was to be part of giving him his birthday present, I could hardly contain myself!  He noticed my prancing and smiled.  He held the bridle out and I lowered my head as he placed it on me.  Taking care to fit me correctly, he fastened the straps that secured the bridle.  My bridle is more than just a bridle; it is a full headpiece, complete with dainty, leather pony ears.  As the fitting was done, the pony persona starting coming over me.  No longer would I have my human voice to communicate to him.  I would nicker and whinny to him and body language would become crucial.  I was lost in these thoughts as he secured my tail.  It's not what you're thinking, by the way – my tail is mounted on a heavy harness that goes around my waist.  Master and I designed it ourselves for maximum 'accessibility' for him and overall comfort for me.

As he brushed my tail, he hummed a happy little tune and I knew he was pleased with himself and whatever this birthday plan was.  Then the shock wave hit me.  What if I couldn't do as he asked?  Displeasing him was not something I ever wanted to do, especially not for his birthday.  Although no words passed between us, he sensed my fear and patted me about the neck and shoulders, telling me that as long as I tried and was a good pony, he would be pleased.  He set about braiding my tail.  This was something new.  My long chestnut tail always stayed loose and free.  I looked back at him and he just smiled.  After tying my tail, he connected my bound wrists to the harness as well and my transformation was complete.  The only thing missing was my bit, and I knew that was to come.  As he led me to the barn, I no longer gave thought to the boots that I wore.  They were certainly not part of my normal pony gear, but this was not a normal day.

Walking to the barn, I snapped my knees high for him, still unsure of he had planned, but so eager to please him.  "You are to stay in pony persona no matter what, do you understand?" he asked quietly as we walked.  I nodded and nickered to him, still unsure, but trusting him completely.  He continued, "I want you to behave exactly as the pony that you are.  Your mannerisms, behavior, ‘voice' and posture are to be 100% pony until I release you from role."  I nodded once more and pawed at the ground, letting him know that I was anxious to please him.  We came to a stop in the middle of the breezeway.  The quiet rustle of the barn became apparent to me now; horses in their stalls, waiting to begin their day.  He picked up the crossties and attached them to my collar one at a time.  I had never been on real crossties before.  I pulled back a bit to see just where my parameters were.  He pulled me forward and I saw that he had my bit in his hand.  Again I lowered my head for him and he slipped the rubber bit between my teeth and attached it the bridle.  I tossed my head and the jingling of my harness and the crossties sounded wonderful.

"There is someone I wish for you to meet," he told me, "an old, trusted friend.  He and I have been through a lot together and I think that the two of you will get along very nicely."  Master has a lot of friends and I had met most of his closest ones.  I wondered who this new person could be.  He opened a stall door and walked a gorgeous liver chestnut quarter horse out.  "I want you to meet Smokey," he announced, as he led the sturdy gelding up to my nose.  My mind raced.  Smokey!  This was his friend!  I had heard him talk of the horse that he had to relinquish when he "changed situations"; which is what we called it when he divorced to possess and collar me.  He had given his trusted steed to a good friend in the country.  The only stipulation being that Master could visit and use Smokey whenever he chose; unfortunately with Master's schedule, this was not often.  I knew the horse's pedigree was as impeccable as his training and that giving him away was something that bothered my Master for a long time.  He said once, in a quiet voice, that it was like giving away your brother.

Smokey stretched his neck and puffed hot horse breath at my face to say hello as he sniffed me.  Remembering my place as a pony, I returned the gesture.  Bending forward so that my face was at his muzzle, I blew gently at his nostrils; greeting him the way another horse would.  We stayed like that, puffing at one another for a short bit before Master said with a chuckle, "Enough, you two" then he backed Smokey up and hooked him to cross ties so that he faced me.  I watched while Master tacked up the big chestnut.  Smokey was a well-built quarter horse, meaning he has well-defined muscles throughout his entire body.  He stood quietly while Master saddled and bridled him.  Neither of them paying any attention to me. I marveled at the attention to detail that Master used while tacking Smokey; every buckle, every strap perfect.  I noticed the loving strokes Master gave his horse and realized he stroked me the same way when I ponied for him.

When Smokey was ready, Master turned to me and spoke, "You will be tethered to Smokey with a breakaway line.  In case of trouble, the line will snap so no one will be harmed.  Since we're going out on a trail ride, you will not be required to rack unless I request it.  Smokey has ‘ponied' many real horses and I think since you two seem to have hit it off so well, we are in for a most enjoyable day."  He ignored my look of amazement as he unhooked Smokey from the crossties and swung up on the tall chestnut with ease.  They approached me, Master bent down and quickly unfastened me from my crossties and attached the breakaway line to my collar.  He gave Smokey some leg and they walked past me.  The line was almost taunt before I snapped back to consciousness and began to walk after them.

Not racking was tough at first.  Most of the time during our pony play, I move as a show pony with the racking gaits – the high-stepping motions that (human) ponies are famous for.  As we moved out past the barn, then past the truck, I quickly realized how wise Master was for allowing me to walk naturally for our trail ride.  I would not have been able to keep up with them if I racked.  I also appreciated the boots he chose for me to wear.  Horse trails were no place for lightweight footgear!  I looked around the stable grounds, but there were no signs of life other than equine.  I could hear Master softly whistling a tune; he seemed very pleased, being with his horse once more.  And his ponygirl too, I hoped.

In the sunlight I could see the shine in Smokey's coat covering his rippling muscles; truly a magnificent animal.  I had to walk briskly to keep up.  After all, Smokey has four legs to my two.  By this time, we had moved onto a wooded trail.  It was just wide enough for Smokey.  Master moved Smokey into a trot.  I had to break into a jog myself.  I heard Master say, "Gallop, my dear."  I broke into a gallop – sort of like a fast-paced skip.  I glanced up for the first time and caught his eyes.  They seemed to shine.  My heart soared; he was pleased with his pony's performance so far!  We continued down the trail, Smokey at a trot and me at a gallop, the two paces seeming to balance themselves out.  By this time I was breathing hard around my bit, but as always Master seemed to know when I tired and he slowed Smokey and I back down to a walk.

We continued this pace for quite some time.  We'd walk along the trail; Smokey and Master leading the way with the ponygirl tethered behind.  There were some small hills that I had scramble up; it seemed that Smokey went a bit faster up them, so I had to increase my pace as well.  The outfit that had seemed a bit chilly this morning was now the perfect thing to be wearing for this workout.  As always, Master's planning was impeccable.  I was so drawn into my pony persona that when a limb came crashing down to the left side of us, I spooked just as Smokey did – both of us jumping to the right.  Master just chuckled and said, "Relax you two, it's just the woods talking to us.  Smokey, you're getting fat and lazy hanging out in that barn like you do."  He patted Smokey's neck as he talked and I found myself wanting some pats as well.

We had been on the trail for a long time and I was beginning to tire.  I guessed that we had gone about four miles or so.  Then I heard running water.  I didn't understand at first, but soon enough a small babbling creek came into view.  Smokey didn't show any signs of stopping or turning.  I didn't want to walk through the creek.  As we got closer to the creek's edge, I tried to gauge how deep it was, but couldn't.  Smokey's front legs went into the creek.  The water came up to his pasterns, making the creek about four or five inches deep.  That didn't matter, I didn't want to cross it. Smokey kept on going and I was drawn closer to the creek.  Could I jump it?  It looked too wide, maybe 6 or 7 feet.  Oh no!  I planted my feet firmly at the edge and the line grew taunt.  As soon as Smokey felt the line go tight, he stopped.  Master turned around and looked at me.  Had I displeased him?  He seemed to smile a small crooked smile.  "No pony wants to go through water at first.  They can't tell how deep it is and they think they're going to fall in."  I'm sure the look on my face gave me away.  That's just what I had thought.  Just like a pony.

Even from across the creek, I knew he could see me blush.  He reached down and grabbed the breakaway line.  He tugged it gently, but my feet seemed frozen at the creek's edge.  I looked up into his eyes, knowing that I must appear to him as a balking pony.  Master gave Smokey some leg and told him to back.  As the quarter horse backed slowly, the line got tighter, pulling my upper body forward.  I knew that if I did not walk into the creek, I'd be pulled in.  I lifted my right foot and Master told Smokey to whoa.  He clucked to me and I bounded across the creek, wide-eyed, rushing to him.  I came right up to Smokey's side; panting hard and hoping that I had not angered Master with my hesitation.  When he bent down and caressed my face and patted my head, I knew all was well.  "All ponies have to learn to trust their handler.  Good girl," he said, as he made Smokey move out.  I beamed from the inside out.  Forgetting that I had been tired or scared or anything, only the thoughts of being a good little pony filled my head.  Smokey trotted once more and I galloped behind.

We continued on for another ten minutes or so, coming upon a clearing in the woods.  Master walked us into the middle of the small meadow and stopped Smokey.  Dismounting gracefully, he surveyed our surroundings.  Talking to both Smokey and I, "Perfect place for a picnic, don't you think?"  Tossing my head so that my chestnut hair bobbed like a mane and making the buckles on my bridle jingle, I answered him.  He removed Smokey's bridle and replaced it with a halter, then led the gelding to the trees at the edge of the clearing.  I, of course, followed; still being tethered to Master's horse.  Walking to me, Master unclipped the line that connected his two equines and told me to stand.  He used the line to fasten Smokey to a tree and removed the saddlebags from the Smokey's back.  Turning to me he spoke as he walked, "Remember, you will stay as a pony."  Standing in front of me, he seemed to tower.  He reached for my head and I lowered it slightly.  Gently he removed my bit and rubbed my cheeks.  Attaching a lead rope to my collar, he dropped the end of it on the ground and told me to ground tie, meaning I was not to move, as if tied.  I watched as he emptied the contents of the saddlebags – all the makings for a picnic.

After he laid the blanket out, he led me over to the edge of the blanket.  He released my arms from behind my back and guided them to my sides, taking care not to jerk my stiff muscles.  Tugging down on the lead rope, he commanded me to present.  I dropped down on all fours, like I do when I am a riding pony.  I looked over at Smokey, who by now was munching away on the sweet green grass, his coat shining in the sunlight.  Master's touch got my attention; he was stroking my hair and straightening my forelock, just as he had done to Smokey.  He took a jug of water and pouring some in a bowl, he placed it in front of me.  "I know my little pony is thirsty," he whispered.  I bent my head forward and down to drink, the cool water tasting wonderful after my journey through the woods.  "Slowly," he reminded me, "I don't want you to cramp."

As I drank, Master pulled the rest of the picnic from the saddlebags.  There was a wonderful assortment of fruit, cheese, and some wrapped packages.  He took one of the wrapped packages and walked over to Smokey, patting the horse on the neck, he opened it and poured the contents on the ground.  Smokey's head went down quickly for the molassed oats and Master walked back to the blanket.  Settling down on corner furthest from me, he beckoned for me.  I crawled to him on all fours, like a good pony and when I reached him, he stroked my head and massaged me around the bridle.  A soft guttural moan escaped my lips; his touch felt so magnificent.  His hand cupped my chin, my eyes opening when he raised my face.  "Hungry?"  I nodded.  He asked again, "Are you hungry?"  I nodded once more, so hard that the buckles on my bridle jingled.  He shook his head.  I was beginning to worry, unsure of what he wanted from me.  My eyes slowly came up to his – his gaze piercing mine.  I knew what he wanted, but at first no sound could come from my throat.  Without blinking, he very softly asked once more, "Is my pony hungry?"  This time my ‘voice' did not fail me.  I whinnied loudly for him; even Smokey picked his head up and snorted in our direction.  Master didn't say a word, but the look in his eyes gave me the confirmation I sought.

Taking a sharp knife from assortment of items that lay before him; he sliced a green delicious apple into small crescents.  He held one in front me, just a tad out of my reach.  I stretched my neck forward, my back arching, and at his urging stuck my tongue out for it.  Slipping the piece of apple into mouth, I was careful of my teeth; a good pony does not bite her owner.  Letting me relax my stance, he continued to hand-feed me the rest of the apple.  Unwrapping another package, he removed a sandwich and began to eat.  Between bites, he would feed me a grape or a baby carrot, holding onto to it tightly so that I had work it from his fingers with my tongue.  The sun was now high and felt wonderful beating down on my back.  Smokey had finished his oats and was contentedly munching on the grass and the tender tips of any tree branches he could reach.  Master poured fresh water for me and told me to drink up, as this was my last chance to drink before we left.  As I drank, he put away the picnic leftovers, save for one shiny apple.

Taking control of my head by one of the D-rings on my bridle, he pulled me up to my feet.  My hands went instinctively behind my back where he secured them.  Leading me over to Smokey, he told me to stand while he shook the blanket out, rolled it and replaced in the saddlebags.  Smokey nudged me, rubbing his head on my arm, I nudged him back gently with my head against his neck.  Master chuckled and told Smokey, "Don't even think about it, bud, she's my filly."  I almost giggled, but caught myself in the nick of time.  Ponies don't giggle and I had to keep true to form.  By this time, Master had secured the saddlebags and had come back round to us.  He held the apple in his hand for both Smokey and I to see.  He slowly sliced it while we watched.  He took a slice and put it between his teeth.  Leaning forward, toward Smokey, he nodded and the big horse took the apple slice from Master's mouth with a gentleness that belied his size.  He repeated the move, but this time motioning toward me.  Waiting for his subtle nod, I leaned forward to cautiously take the apple from Master's mouth.  As I took the slice of apple, our lips brushed.  He smiled when he saw my blush.  He put another piece of apple in his teeth and let Smokey take that one.  The last piece was mine to remove from between his lips.

While I chewed the mouthful of apple, Master re-bridled Smokey.  I watched as he took care to move the bit into Smokey's mouth, and how he straightened the horse's forelock after the bridled was fastened.  Just as he did with me.  Then the realization struck, Master owned Smokey long before he owned me.  All of his expertise in handling me as a pony came from his days of being a horseman.  I guess I had always known that, but seeing it like this, with me as his pony, brought the thought process full circle.  I became flushed with pride.  The pride a submissive gets when she knows she belongs to someone so completely.  Slipping my bit from his pocket, he inserted it into my waiting mouth and re-attached it to my bridle.  Taking the long breakaway line, he snapped one end to my collar and the other to Smokey, just like before.  "Ready to head for home?" he asked.  I nodded and tried to whinny around my bit.  Master once again swung himself up onto the big gelding and gave him some leg.  Smokey started off at a trot and I had no choice but to follow them once more.  I noted with curiosity that we were headed in the opposite direction from which we came.

We had only gone a short bit when we came to a dirt road.  I looked anxiously to both sides.  What if someone saw us?  Surely that would be catastrophic.  Master, whistling to himself, seemed not be concerned, but my mind has tendency to run away with me.  He must have looked back at me or read my mind, because he said. "No worries, my little pony.  It's a long way back to the barn, that's why I've arranged a shortcut."  My mind relaxed with his words and I concentrated on following Smokey like a good pony.  Then I heard someone call my Master's name.  My head snapped in the direction of the voice.  There stood a man with a pickup truck and a horse trailer.  Master called to the man, "Smitty, you old dog, I knew I could count on you!"  Smitty!  This was Master's friend who kept Smokey for him.  As we approached, Smitty said, "Well, well, look at this little filly! Isn't she put together well?"  I could feel the blush rise in my cheeks.  By this time we had come to truck and Master told Smokey to whoa.  He dismounted and pulled me close to him with the breakaway line.

Smitty asked, "Has she ever been trailered before?"  Master grinned and shook his head, "No, Smitty, she's a bit of a spoiled pony.  Besides you have my trailer!"  Smitty approached me and held out his hand.  Looking at Master first and getting his nod of approval, I stretched my neck to smell Smitty's hand.  He rubbed the top my head roughly and scritched me under my jaw.  His hands were rough, but not unpleasant and I leaned into his attention just as any horse would.  He seemed to be unfazed by a human dressed in full pony gear.  Smitty took the line from Master and walked me around in a circle.  I returned to my racking walk for him and he told Master what a fancy filly he had.  In the meantime, Master had removed Smokey's bridle and replaced it with a halter.

"Let's get back to the barn," said Smitty.  Smokey and I were led to the back of the horse trailer.  My feet stopped involuntarily.  I was going to ride in the back with Smokey!  Like a real horse.  Master led Smokey onto the trailer, the big gelding following him as if there was nothing to fear.  Smitty walked onto the trailer, tugging the lead attached to me.  I tried willing my feet to move, but they would not cooperate.  Master must have secured Smokey to the front of the trailer and had come up behind me.  He patted my ass and clucked to me, but I still seemed frozen.  He chuckled to Smitty, "Aren't they all like this their first time?  Gimme your bandana, works every time."  Smitty reached around me and handed the bandana to Master.  I wasn't sure what it was for until I felt Master's hands tying the bandana as a blindfold around my head.  With my sight now gone, I felt the tug of the lead pulling me to the trailer, then a sharp slap on my ass.  I jumped forward and into the trailer, almost landing Smitty.  The bandana was removed and I was patted and stroked and both men told me what a good girl I was.  Two lines were fastened to my collar to keep me in place and the trailer doors were closed.

I could hear the muffled tones of Master and Smitty talking and then I heard the truck doors close.  Glancing around, I noticed Smokey was munching away at hay that was in a bag tied in front of him.  The trailer was kind of dark, but there was a dim light at the front.  There was a small jolt as the truck and trailer began rolling out.  I had to shift my weight to keep my balance, just as Smokey did.  Once again the realization came over me that Master had wanted me to become a pony for him – as much of a pony that a human could be – and I had done it willing.  For him.  I still had the sheepish smile on my face when they unloaded Smokey and I back at the barn.