The Bar None Stables II

- written by Kilogram, for use on SirJeff's Ponygirls.

Chapter 3.

Though she needed help preparing for her date, Linda knew how to dress for the interview. She needed something conservative, but still feminine. The beautiful brunette chose a conservative suit, something which show her calves without making her look as though she was a slut on the make. She decided dark blue was a nice color that would show she was serious. Beneath the matching blue jacket she wore a long-sleeved white blouse. A clasp at the back of her neck kept her long hair bunched together at the back of her neck so it would hang down to the middle of her back.

As she finished dressing, she kept one eye on the clock. She did not want to be late. This meeting was too important to screw up because of some stupid oversight. While she did not remember applying for the grant, she discovered Bar None Enterprises gave substantial amounts to students wishing to further their education. This could put her on easy street. With the right amount of a grant, she could concentrate on her studies without worrying about money. A slight grin appeared on her face as she realized she might even have more time for dates.

Giving herself time to spare, she rushed from her dorm room. At the end of the corridor she took the elevator to the ground floor. Walking quickly to maintain a ladylike decorum, she hurried across the crowded lobby. As she stepped through the doorway, she expected to see a coach awaiting her but none was there.

Bar None had, of course, offered to send a coach to pick her up. Since their tower was near the campus she could have walked, but the secretary who called insisted that she arrive in style.

"It's part of the corporate image," she confided over the telephone.

The beautiful brunette thought about walking, thinking they had forgotten about her. The secretary had been so insistent. One glance at the clock on the student union told her she was two minutes early.

As she contemplated finding a seat on the crowded benches outside the dorm, the carriage came around the corner. With majestic splendor, the carriage moved down the block toward the front of the building.

While ponygirls were fairly common by this day, everyone turned to watch. The carriage was lightweight, made of the newest aerospace plastics and composites. Still, with the driver and passenger, it required some work to pull it. What approached the dorm was what was called a "coach and four."

Four naked ponygirls pranced merrily down the street, drawing the carriage behind them. The four were as perfectly matched as could be. All were the same height, the same shade of dark hair, and the same huge bosom.

The mid-sections of their bodies, from the hips to the breasts, were covered by a red-and-black satin corset. Red and black were the colors of the Bar None Stables. The horseshoe sandals they wore were a mixture of red and black patent leather. The harnesses were black, while the plume that arose from the harness on top the head of each ponygirl was red.

With each step, both ponytails swayed majestically left and right. The hair of the brunettes was formed into ponytails and held in place by the harnesses. Another tail protruded from the bottoms of these domesticated animals.

Linda looked around to see if everyone watched. She waited until the carriage came to a stop and the driver stepped down before coming down the steps to the street. She moved slowly to give everyone plenty of time to feel jealous.

The driver opened the door for her as she came within a few steps. He wore the red livery of a carriage driver. He doffed his black top hat

The Bar None Enterprises Tower was only a few blocks away but it took almost ten minutes to reach it because the street was blocked with other carriages drawn by ponygirls. Linda was content to sit back enjoying the ride at first. After several minutes she wished there was some open space so the driver could get the pony girls to trot. She leaned to the left to see around him so she could see the rear ponygirl on that side. Both ponytails swayed with each step.

The carriage ascended the slight grade to the front door of the Tower. A pair of costumed footmen hurried forward to help her down from the carriage. The beautiful brunette felt as though she was royalty the way everyone treated her.

The doorman directed her to the elevator tubes to the left. In seconds she emerged onto the penthouse offices. The secretary smiled when she introduced herself. She knew she was expected.

"Ms. Hawkins will see you in a few minutes. Please fill out this personal data questionnaire while you wait."

It took the beautiful brunette only a few minutes to complete the questionnaire. She could not understand why they wanted the names of her friends. Once she had it done, she returned it to the secretary.

"Ms. Hawkins will see you now."

As she gestured to her right, the door opened. Linda smiled down at her and moved in that direction.

"Sit down, Miss Lawrence. Can I get you some herbal tea?"

They discussed her grades, her courses, and her goals in life. She sensed she was making a good impression. She felt that they would sponsor her education as long as she remained in school.

The video box on the desk held all the information about Linda. The older woman accessed each file merely touching the screen.

"Oh, my!"

"What is it?

"There is only one thing."

"What?" Linda's academic record was perfect. She saw nothing wrong anywhere.

"Purely standard procedure, but we ran your name through the University's computers and came up with this.

Ms. Hawkins touched a pressure pad on her desk. The holographic pictures on the wall to her left disappeared. As the images faded from view, Linda realized the whole wall was one massive video display screen. An image appeared, fuzzy at first, then more clear as the computers corrected the image. Linda recognized that fanny before she even saw the face. It was Linda, on her back, as she had described it only a day before, with her knees against her chest and her feet pointed toward the ceiling.

"They identified you from this security video. For some reason they failed to bring it to the attention of the administration. I'm truly sorry, but I think we have to notify the dean of women about this episode."

Linda shot forward on her chair seat.

"Does this mean I don't get the grant?"

"Grant? My Dear, this tape will likely get you expelled."

"You can't do that!"

"My Dear, you don't expect me to cover this up, do you?"

"Please, I'll do anything to keep this a secret."

Ms. Hawkins returned to a condescending smile.

"I'm certain we can work out some arrangement that will keep the tape from being made public."

Chapter 4.

The pneumatic "whish" followed by the rush of fresh air told Linda someone had opened the trunk to the jet car. She wanted to stretch out, but the various straps they had used held her in position. She could only wait until they removed them. They had assured her as they made her helpless that the bondage was for her own protection. They did not want her to hurt herself.

Not only could the beautiful brunette not move, she could not see either, as they had pulled a satin bag over her head. The opening was elastic so it closed tightly about her neck, encasing her entire head in a double thickness of black and red striped satin. The bag cut off all light from getting through to her eyes.

"Pull her legs out first. Let's get the shoes on her before she stands."

Linda felt them freeing the straps that held her feet against her bottom, her thighs against her chest, her knees tucked under her chin. Strong hands then pulled her legs out before her and held them there.

More straps encircled her ankles and lower thighs just above the knees so she could not move her legs at all. Hands held her legs in the air while other hands removed the straps. The beautiful coed felt one pair of hands on each ankle, pulling her legs apart and her feet in the air.


Linda's protest was feeble but there was nothing else she could do. She wore no clothing at all, so now anyone could see her pussy.

She tried to draw her legs together, but the hands had been replaced by leather straps. Her feet swung a few inches right and left as she struggled, but it did no good. These men knew how to handle a naked captive. She could do nothing to resist.

As it was, she remained in this degrading position less than a minute. It took only a minute for them to put the shoes on her. Once they had them securely strapped to her feet, the removed the straps so Linda could lower her legs. In seconds she stood at the rear of the jetcar.

The next step was to remove the satin bag. Linda blinked several times while her eyes became adjusted to the dim light of the jetcarport. She still could not see clearly as the groom held the electrodegenerator before her mouth.

They had gagged her using electrotape. Though it had the appearance of old-fashioned duct tape, it was superior. The adhesive on the tape rather effectively sealed her mouth so she could say nothing during the trip. Before blinding her with the satin hood, they had run the electrogenerator across the tape. This caused the tape to bond to the brunette's skin. Nothing she did would cause that tape to come loose.

Once the rays from the electrodegenerator had loosened the bond between the tape and her flesh, the groom grabbed the tape by a corner to pull it off.

Linda opened her mouth to yell in pain. As she did, another groom shoved a training bit in her mouth.

"Head down."

She stared at the ground at her feet. For the first time she noticed that these were not regular high heels they had strapped to her feet. Protruding from the balls of her feet were the outer edges of ponygirl-shoes.

She had no time to dwell upon that, as they pulled her hair free, so it hung down as far as her pubic area. At each end of the training bit there was a leather strap. A groom brought the ends together behind Linda's head to buckle them together. A hand against her forehead brought her head upright again.

The training bit was a special steel bit used on new ponygirls. A quarter-inch layer of soft rubber encircled a quarter-inch steel rod. A half inch of foam rubber covered the rubber with leather wrapped around the entire device.

This training bit also served as a gag. A ponygirl with this device in her mouth could say nothing anyone would want to listen to. The layers of rubber enabled her to breathe through her mouth. This was especially important when the new ponygirl was a pampered princess unused to physical exertion.

Rings protruded from each end of the steel rod. The groom attached reins to these rings. The strap of leather attached with a simple snap, so it took only seconds.

"Come along. Be careful how you step."

Linda took one step in those high heeled sandals and almost fell on her face. The stiletto heel was fully six inches long. The pony shoe and the sole were each a quarter-inch thick. What complicated the process was the weight of the ponygirl-shoe attached to the bottom of each sole, beneath the ball and toes.

"Don't step on the heel. Step on the balls of your feet."

Linda quickly discovered that when she raised her knees in the air and planted her foot on the ground so ponygirl-shoe and heel touched at the same time, she could maintain her balance. When she landed on the narrow heel, she wanted to fall over.

She had to walk only a few feet to a cart. One man sat on it, but was room for another person to sit next to him.

The only thing was, Linda was no longer a person.

"Get in."

Mounted on the back of the cart was a cage with solid steel bars. The top lifted up and the front came forward so she had no trouble climbing inside.

"Sit facing me."

She knelt sideways on the floor of the cage. As she lowered her bare bottom to the floor, she twisted about so she faced backwards with her knees against her chin and her feet against her bottom.

The groom raised the front of the cage. Holding it in place with his left hip, he lowered the top. Pins at the corners held the cage together. As added security he added a large padlock.

The ponygirl was ready for travel.

Linda's position on the back of the cart permitted her to see where they had been, but not where they were taking her. She would learn that soon enough.

The cart ran in a circle about the jetport to exit. Following the circular tunnels, they descended 150 feet to ground level. Two roads led from the exit. The lefthand road led to the back of the main house where deliveries were made. (Guests used elevator tubes that led to the entry hall in the front.) The right-hand road led toward the stables in back.

The driver turned right as soon as they left the tunnel.

Within minutes, Linda found herself on her feet being led across an open area before the main stable. The beautiful brunette looked about her, her blue eyes wide in amazement. She had never seen so many ponygirls in one place before. Some stood patiently tethered to rails while grooms and trainers led others about.

The driver tethered Linda to a post next to an assortment of benches and desks. She turned to watch him walk away. She wanted to cry out for him to stay. She was naked, bound and gagged. She needed someone to protect her.

She turned her attention to the reins that ran from the bit to the post. He had tied the end of the reins there with a simple knot. The buxom brunette knew she would have no trouble getting that knot loose if she could reach it. It was several inches higher than the top of her head, and her hands were cuffed behind her.

She could not reach it. The man had known that when he left her there.

Linda looked around at the benches. She was certain they were the reason she had been left there in that one particular place. She wondered what it meant.

She did not have long to wait as a man with a scraggy beard and pink tinted glasses approached. He said nothing to her but removed the ear tag. They had removed her clip-on, dangling earrings and had pierced both ears. In her left lobe they place a silver hoop. In the right they place a tag that identified her by name ("Linda," nothing more) and her registration number. The tag was proof that legally she was a ponygirl.

The man took the tag to the computer to check the numbers on it against those posted. Once he knew she was the one he expected, he went to work on her.

He maneuvered the brunette so she had to stretch out over the padded bench. Grabbing her by the upper arms, he adjusted her position a little to make her bottom the highest part of her body. Her head and upper body draped over one side, her legs on the other. A leather strap over her upper thighs and one around her waist insured that she could not move her fanny.

Before proceeding, he pulled another satin hood over her head. Once again she could see nothing. She could squirm around a little, but do nothing else.

She felt something stinging on her right hip. She tried to jerk her body around but it did not good. The stinging continued in much the same place. Bringing her cuffed arms over, she tried to reach that spot but could not.

The stinging continued for almost half an hour. She felt him move away, but he did not free her from this position. She would continue to lie on her front until someone came to free her.

By the time he returned to her, the stinging on her hip had stopped. Linda looked down when he pulled the satin hood off. In half-inch high letters on her right hip was the tattoo: "Ponygirl Linda"

She now wore the brand of a ponygirl. Fortunately it was a tattoo and not a real brand. There were many tattoo shops and clinics that could remove a tattoo, but the words "Ponygirl" established her legal status. No one would remove that tattoo unless she provided the legal papers that showed she was no longer a ponygirl. She would remain a ponygirl until she had completed the terms and conditions of the contract she had signed.

Her travail was far from over. Reattaching the reins to the bit, he led her to another device. This one appeared to be something of a pillory. The captive knelt with her throat against a groove cut in the wood. The man brought the second piece around behind her neck to secure her in place.

A board immediately in front of Linda's face blocked her from seeing anything in front of her. In fact, about all that could be seen of her face from the other side was her mouth.

The man secured the beautiful brunette's head in position so she could not move it at all. When she heard him coming around to the other side of the pillory so he faced her, Linda tried to move her head. Straps across the back of her head kept her from moving it backwards while more straps kept her from moving it forward. Other straps prohibited movement to the left or right. A block under her jaw kept her from moving it downwards.

She felt uncomfortable pressure on the right side of her lower lip as something pulled it away from her teeth and held it there. The same thing occurred to the left.

When the stinging occurred inside her lower lip, she tried to pull her head back but could not.


"Easy, Girl, easy."

The stinging continued for almost ten minutes as he added another tattoo to the inside of her lip. He was tattooing her registration number on her lower lip so they could identify her easily.

"Good, Girl, good, Girl."

Linda felt the back of his fingers run across her left nipple until it was hard and pointed. She found herself enjoying it. As suddenly as he started, he stopped.

Linda found herself wishing he would continue. There had been only a few times when she had allowed boys to fondle her breasts. She had always determined when and how long. She had been in complete control before, but now she was a dumb animal, she was nothing more than a ponygirl.

After her freed her from the kneeling pillory, he led her toward the stable. They paused as a team of four brunette ponygirls paraded in front of them, led by a groom holding their leashes in one hand.

Linda watched as they walked away. She saw one brand Ponygirl Deirdre on the ponygirl nearest her. None of them paid her any attention.

She wondered if that was to be her fate, to be part of a team of ponygirls.

"You have her branded?"

Linda did not hear an answer. The man merely nodded as he handed the ear tag to the newest man. He held the tag up in front of Linda's face as he pulled down her lower lip. He compared the registration number on the ear tag with the one tattooed on her lower lip. A nod to the man who had tattooed her told him she was ready to advance to the next step of her training.