Chariot Of The Goddess

by integral
- do not use without the author/artist's permission.

They run for all their worth, these ponygirls; pounding the scorched earth as they haul the chariot of their Goddess.

The mistress at the reins needs no whip to encourage them to run their hearts out, bent double as they are by the yoke across their backs. They have seen the fate of those who have failed to live up to the expectations of the Goddess - the ones sentenced to spend the rest of their days trussed in skin tight rubber coated straitjackets and body stockings, with only their crotches and buttocks exposed to the air; hauling carts and dragging ploughs across the arid terrain...

The ponies do not have far to run now, just a few short miles to the watering hole by the river with it's cool shades of trees. There they'll be left on their kness with their faces in the dust and their reins wrapped round their ankles while the Goddess and her lover go off to bathe and carouse.

Eventually, still strapped to the chariot; they'll be make to crawl inch-worm style to the water's edge to drink before being set on their hooves for the run back.

If they're lucky, at the end of the day they won't be whipped and will go straight back to the stable. If they're extremely lucky, they may be rewarded by being taken to their Goddess' bedroom to service her and her lover. They may even spend the night trussed up at the foot of her bed.

Either way it's far better than gasping for breath through a gasmask while having work a water wheel trussed in a stifling, sweat saturated rubber outfit.

That is why the two ponygirls run their hearts out, pulling the chariot of their Goddess, pounding along at full speed, blinded by sweat; trying to avoid the tufts of dried grasses that threaten to trip them and make them stumble - the alternative just doesn't bear thinking about...