Joanne: I watched as the four boxes were laid in a row, knowing that each box contained a human being. I refused to let sympathy infiltrate my thoughts. I couldn't allow my feelings to interfere with the natural progression of things that were meant to be. These girls were meant to be; meant to be pony slaves.
While I knew the procedure, I let Fred and Al cue me. This is what they wanted, it being my first day. I didn't have any objections to be truthful. I was certain I'd pick up the feel of doing this job for real. But now I felt just a bit uncomfortable. I chalked it up to first day jitters.
The first chore was to open all the boxes and remove the masks. The girls had been fed a mild sedative mixed with oxygen. It helped them on their journey. But now we needed them to be awake. Without the sleeping gas coursing through their lungs they would be fully alert in just a few minutes. In addition they were all checked with a stethoscope to insure they were not having any breathing difficulties. If any girl was found to have trouble breathing, she would be moved to the front of the line.
That gave us time to do a bit of paperwork and sort our the gear for each girl. We took careful measurements of each girl, checking shoe sizes especially. Autofits had already determined the majority of measurements of each girl but we needed to be sure. It wasn't as accurate at times, especially regarding footwear. Girls often had at least one minor measurement discrepancy. We corrected the data on the computer. In only one instance was the correction even slightly critical, that being where our third girl was measured as having a slightly smaller foot than she actually did. Al called supply and told them to get a slightly larger set of boots to her assigned cell. They would be waiting when she arrived.
The girls began to groan and mumble through their gags. That was a good sign. We knew they were alive and kicking. Of course we also knew they were wide awake. That was our cue to begin.
Before beginning, I double-checked the computer printout on our first girl. It gave detailed info on the recommended gag and bridle size. As usual these items were ready and waiting. It provided me with a recommended post height. This was the measurement from the bottom of the knee to the back of the neck. Two inches was subtracted from this measurement to allow for the normal arch that her back would assume when she was properly bound on the display stand. Also included was the serial number of the girl, assigned by the International Ponygirl Consortium. This number was etched into each of a pair of earlobe medallions that I would have to install. Last but not least it gave us her name, Sheryl.
I was not concerned about other items that would be used on her. Collars, boots, etc. were not my domain. These were to be used in each pony's cell. I was concerned with control of the situation and I was concerned with time.
The process usually took just over a half hour per girl. With four girls, the last girl usually ended up waiting over ninety minutes, often two hours. That time could be lengthened if we ran into a stubborn slave that didn't want to cooperate. I would have to take time to teach her with my prod. I just hoped they all didn't give me trouble. It would delay the last girl's preparation even longer.
With everything ready we removed Sheryl from the box. Using special tools we released the straps that held her in place, leaving her in her hog-tie. As Fred and Al manhandled her onto the display stand, I guided the large metal ring over the three foot long pipe that was securely mounted in its center. Once she was resting on her knees, the feet were detached from the belt and secured to the back edge of the stand by short chains. She now knelt with back straight.
The next step was to remove the blindfold. It always revealed a pair of frightened eyes. This was no exception. With eyes wide open she stared at me in horror. I petted her matted red hair and simply said, "Try and relax." I didn't mention anything about whether she would be hurt. I knew she would; I would eventually hurt her myself. At this point she didn't need any more frightening details.
It was time to remove the gag. She would say something. She might ask a question. She might yell expletives. She might not say anything. It didn't really matter to me. Some crews placed bets on what the girl would say. They were truly sadistic. Al had worked on such a crew some months back and had played along. Fred, to my delight, would have none of this barbaric behavior.
I removed the gag slowly and carefully. She stared at me for a moment then swallowed. "Are you thirsty?" I asked.
"Yes," she responded meekly.
I had a plastic cup already filled with water. I allowed her to drink using a plastic straw. She drained the cup and asked for more. I allowed her to drink as much as she wanted. That's when she started to cry.
She bowed her head and tried, weakly at first then with vigor, to free herself. She pulled her arms away from her body and attempted to break her bonds. She reached behind her and tried to get at the belt buckle but the bonds were designed to prevent this. "Please!" she pleaded, tears streaming down her face.
I petted her hair and wiped the tears from her cheeks with a moist cloth. "Don't try and fight the bonds. You can't escape," I told her with the most soothing voice I could manage.
"Why?" her voice trembled. "Why am I here? Where am I?"
"You're here to be trained," I informed her. Again I used a soft, gentle voice.
"Trained?" she asked with tears still coming down her face. "Trained for what?"
"It's better if you learn as you go. I really don't have the time to explain and it would only upset you more," I informed her in a more matter-of-fact tone.
"Please, tell me!"
"I'm not allowed," I told her. "I have to get you prepared."
"Shhh," I ordered, placing a finger over her lips.
She remained silent.
"Better," I said as I again wiped her tears. Again it was important that she befriend me to a small degree. I needed a small amount of cooperation for the next few steps.
I took the prod from my belt and turned it to the first setting. The low pitched hum told me it was set to the minimum setting. Placing it in front of the girl I piqued her curiosity and her fear. "What's that," she asked with a truly fearful voice.
"This is a hypersonic prod. We use it to get our slaves to cooperate," I said as I touched it to her left arm. Even through the cotton blouse it still stung. To my surprise she didn't yell. She just took a deep breath and moaned. "Hurts, doesn't it?" I asked rhetorically.
"Please, don't!" But I did. I had to even though I knew she had learned the lesson. When I increased the pain level to setting two and caught her right breast she yelled, "Please stop!" She began sobbing again. I could stop now.
"I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I had to do that. You have to learn about these things."
"So you'll be obedient. Now, I have to gag you again. I want you to open your mouth as wide as you can," I asked.
"No, please. Please don't."
"I don't have a choice, I said, cutting her off. "You have to be gagged. If you don't cooperate, I'll be forced to use the prod on you until you do. Now open wide for me."
She surprised me by opening her mouth as told. I fully expected her to clam up, requiring me to hurt her. I inserted the ball into her mouth and secured the straps around her head. "You're doing fine," I praised her.
The ball gag harness was fairly standard. Some called it a trainer. Others called it a bridle. The leather straps pulled the ball deep into her mouth while more straps traveled along the bridge of her nose and over her head. Near the back the straps split once again and connected behind the ears. A chin strap kept the lower jaw from pulling away from the ball.
The ball itself was important as well. Before long she would have to wear a ring gag. There was only one size ring gag and it measured 2.6 inches in diameter. The ball gag was used to allow the jaw to slowly expand and adapt to this somewhat large size. Few girls had a large enough jaw to reach this measurement so they were started off with a somewhat more comfortable gag, usually two inches. This would be replaced by a slightly larger gag every other day, usually .1 inches larger, until the desired expansion was reached.
This girl's gag was just under two inches, 1.9 inches to be exact. Her mouth was a bit small but that would only make her look more vulnerable and frightened. I knew that the increasing size of the gag would only enhance that vulnerable look. It would increase her value as well.
With her mouth secure it was time for the headrest. It looked very much like a dentist chair headrest with two rubber cups to support her head. Once I had mounted it to the top of the metal pipe, I gently pulled her head back and slid a bolt into place to keep her from moving. Now she stared up at a forty-five degree angle.
It was time to strip her. I stepped back and allowed Al and Fred to do the honors. It was their turn and I was tired. Using electric shears they removed her clothing in just over two minutes. The girl screamed past the gag but I just told her to relax and let them work. She sobbed, chest heaving. Even Fred tried to calm her, patting her head and smiling. "It's going to be alright," he said. I had the feeling she didn't believe him.
With the girl naked I proceeded to do a quick exam for foreign items. These included bobby pins, earrings, barrettes, ankle chains, or any other item that was not allowed. I found one bobby pin in her hair which I removed.
I also checked for any scars or defects. There were none. I examined the chart for any medical record of physical problems. None. She was ready for the last two procedures.
First we needed to tag her. Each earlobe was swabbed with a strong anti-bacterial solution. It stained her earlobes red. I placed the punch on her left earlobe and positioned it carefully. She froze in anticipation of the act. When I pulled the trigger a spike was driven through her earlobe. The spike expanded quickly and produced a hole nearly a sixteenth inch in diameter. It was obviously painful as she screamed through the gag and struggled against her bonds. I simply walked around to the other side and did the other earlobe. "I'm sorry, Honey. It's all part of the process," I told her.
Her number was imprinted on two silver buttons that would cover the majority of her earlobe. I took one of these buttons and pressed its thin tube through the earlobe and place the mating rear disk over the part of the tube that protruded from the other side. Using a special tool I clamped it around the assembly and mushroomed the thin tube until the disks were secure. I secured a small pearl to the earlobe hole. The process was repeated with the other ear.
At this point Sheryl was in a state of shock. Unfortunately she was in for even more mistreatment. Her breasts needed to be pierced and ringed. At least this time I would be able to use a topical anesthetic to ease the pain somewhat. I smeared the blue paste over both nipples and massaged it in using a cotton swab. The girl's eyes went wide. She couldn't watch me but suspected something bad was about to happen. I had to use a template, a metal disk which would guide me as to the location of where to pierce her. Placing it over her right nipple and making sure it was level, I inserted a long tapered pin through one hole until it appeared through the other. The holes were not through the nipples themselves but were positioned slightly below and away from them leaving roughly an inch between them. I spread more cream over the holes and inserted the one inch long bar. The ring portion was attached and pressed into the rod making it a permanent part of her body. The other breast was done in a like manner.
Sheryl didn't fight the breast rings as I had expected. I suppose she had gone into that stage where there is nothing but apathy. She knew she couldn't do anything to prevent the abuse so she just endured. It was like going to the doctor for a humiliating medical procedure. It might hurt. It might be embarrassing. But it was something that had to, and would be, done.
I would almost bet that these were the feelings going through her mind. I had been there almost two years ago. I thought it would be fun. Everyone said it would be. But it wasn't and I knew it the moment they placed me in the box and drove me around for several hours. I was pierced, bound, gagged, used. I didn't like losing control of my body. I hadn't been prepared for this level of submission. But, like this girl, I had no choice in the matter.
With the breast rings installed she was ready for shipment. I placed a dark blanket over her body and wheeled her out into the hallway. There she would wait for an attendant as we proceeded to the next girl.
The process would be the same. The girls would all display slightly different emotions. One was particularly combative until I zapped her with a level 3 burst of my prod. She took the hint and opened her mouth to accept the gag at that point. From there the procedure didn't depend on her cooperation and she was prepared according to plan and wheeled into the hall.
In all, the four girls were pretty easy to control. I was grateful. It made me feel good to have gotten the girls outfitted in a timely manner. Fred was especially pleased and bought me drinks after the day's work was finished. Al tagged along and we talked shop for a short while.