Section I. Time Heals.

The morning after He ringed me, He roused me with His whip, as usual. I immediately knelt, and He watered me, put drops in my eyes. The whip bade me to all fours to accept my tail and then on my feet for my ever-so-tight harnessing. He clipped on my reins and drew me forward, to be hitched to His cart. I neighed protests into my bit when He belled the rings in my very tender nipples, then moaned from the weight of those chimes. He was, as usual, gentle when He applied the salve. The routine continued, onto my knees to let Him into the cart, then up with the pull of the reins. I presented my flank for His whip, then we were off for His pleasure, His unseeing ponygirl trotting through the countryside, at His command.

In the evening, I was given my daily feeding of grain and vegetable mush, and watered. He casually used my mouth again, then replaced my bit and chained me. He left me horny, frustrated and abandoned for the night. I lay down, ever scared by the sounds of the evening, and wondered about the branding.

Days passed, with never a word spoken. My tenderness gradually receded when He belled my rings and applied the salve, increasingly replaced by an involuntary heat, arousal and wetness at His touch. Yet the routine never wavered. Whipped awake, then watered, eye-dropped, tailed, harnessed, reined, hitched, salved and driven all day. Bathed, mushed, watered, used and chained, every night, still frightened, wondering about the horrid branding.

Weeks passed, still in silence. The routine did not change much, but I certainly changed a lot. I adapted to my new reality. I still could not see, yet all my other senses became much more acute. I could hear, taste and smell my world like never before. Compelled by my improved sense of smell, I even explored the range of my tether one night, to learn how to handle keeping my bodily wastes downwind, and furthest away from where I slept. I began to discriminate the sounds of the varied fauna that lurked nearby. Incredibly, I could often smell Him even before I heard Him approach.

My nipples no longer ached from the rings. My body strengthened, and I lost any trace of fat. My stamina increased. I grew confident in harness, one with the cart, almost anticipating His commands. I high-stepped, pranced, trotted and ran, precisely to His exacting demands, until there was no more use for His whip, it had all become second nature to me.

I savored the mush feeding each night and delighted at bathing the day's travails off in the lake.

Incredibly, I yearned for his attention and looked forward his touch. I actually wanted to be driven, used, handled. I no longer feared the night, and thought less of the horror of branding. I had become a smug, raunchy ponygirl.

Section II. New Reins.

The whip still startled me immediately awake, after all this time. I obeyed, automatically assuming all the positions required of me in His morning preparations, only half paying notice. Then, something very different caught my attention. Why was He not clipping the reins to my bit, but threading them through its loops?

As He tugged the ring on my now healed, incredibly responsive nipple, it dawned on me. He was attaching the reins to my nipple rings!

My fleeting surprise was quickly overtaken by the most amazing sexual reaction. My nipples rock hard, my pussy soaking, my knees weak, I nearly orgasmed. My plight as a ponygirl reached another level, took on even more intensity.

He just ignored my excitement, finished His business with sure, capable hands, then led me to the cart. I knelt as trained, to let Him on. He tugged twice at each nipple rein to give me a sense of His new controls. An involuntary shudder went through me, when He tightened His grip even more on my reins and yanked. I rose, and presented my rear, ready for the road. Then, with a crack of the buggy whip, we were off.

It is an understatement to say this was the ride of my life. There was this new, high bandwidth, open channel between my nipples and my clit! The slightest movement of His hand travelled down the reins, through my nipples, to ring my chimes and my pussy simultaneously. I literally gushed my juices, orgasming as I trotted, with only my clip-clopping hooves rousing me now and then from my sexual stupor. I had never cum like this, even for my Master, M. It was beyond incredible.

Section III. Beware an Afternoon Off.

He was a sage handler of ponies, and knew I could not take a full day of this. He took me back by noon, trembling, lost, totally drained. He let me bathe, then left me, chained. I luxuriated in the sun and in the sexual calm after my storm.

I napped the afternoon away, until I was nudged awake by His boot. Grateful for the rest, horny and unfulfilled, I licked His boot, just like I had that first day. I was just finishing His other boot, when His whip forced my face sideways, away from His feet - to another boot?!?

What now...?

A cruel lash on my rump ended my hesitation. I, a good ponygirl, obeyed and went on, licking another set of boots. My speculation continued. Is He selling me to another? Could this be an auctioneer? What will be my fate?

The stranger, of the new boots, also had hands, hands that gripped my hair and drew me up towards His groin.

Immediately, my heightened senses recognized Him. It was M! My Master! I became frantic in my joy, whinnying into my bit, nuzzling His manhood.

He petted me, in a gentle acknowledgement of my recognition, then, realizing His let His guard down, He pushed me away.

I crawled back to M on my hands and knees, silently begging Him, kissing and licking His boots. M simply touched and caressed my left flank. He kept at it, until I finally understood. M intended to brand me with His brand, now, personally, with my consent! I was lost, not knowing what I should do. But my body knew, and responded, even while my mind was still numb. Each caress, I pressed against His hand, giving Him my answer and myself, for all eternity, unconditionally.

There was no ceremony, no music, no guests, no rose petals. My trainer simply held me immobile with His strong arms, on my hands and knees, rear skywards. M went off and returned with that hissing-hot iron.

My whinnies drowned out most of the sizzling sounds emanating from my left flank. But how I felt the intense pain, smelled the acrid smell. It was over in seconds, I was branded, property, ponygirl. But the pain would not stop.

I must have passed out, because when I came to, I found myself alone, collapsed on the grass. They had gone off somewhere, perhaps for celebratory drinks, leaving me to my misery. I wept and whimpered. Spasms and shudders went through me. It took forever to calm down, and somehow accommodate the interminable throbbing agony. Eventually I slept, drained and exhausted.

Section IV. My New Home.

Morning came, and with it the same inevitable whiplash. But things were permanently different. The events of the evening flooded back, along with the pain on my flank.

I was pulled to my knees, given a thorough inspection, then salve cooled my brand. The usual eye drops were applied. Then, to my surprise, my opaque contacts were removed! I blinked in the bright sunlight, catching only a glimpse of M, unable to handle the glare.

My M was patient, waiting. I squinted, looking around for My trainer. He had gone - I never got the chance to see Him nor hear Him speak.. Eventually, I could see M clearly. I looked into His eyes, and smiled, or at least tried to smile through my bit.

M returned my smile, and said, "Let's go home, debbypony."

Without urging, so well conditioned, I knelt on all fours, ready for my tail.

He laughed, then tailed and harnessed me, while I enjoyed Him, drinking Him in with my eyes.

M drew me to my feet, and attached my chimes to my breasts. It was wonderful. He drew my reins through my bit, clipping them to my nipple rings.

He led me to the cart. I watched my Master hitch me, then knelt for him. While He got on the cart, I snuck a quick peek at my new brand, but my blinkers blocked my lateral vision. He tugged at my nipple-reins. I rose, happily presenting my unmarked right flank for his whip. A lash, and we were off.

M had a light, easy control of the reins, even smoother than my trainer's. Even my ever-throbbing, branded, left flank could not stop my joy and arousal. He lashed me to a trot and I clip-clopped happily for Him, my eyes rediscovering the colors of nature all around me.

Hours later we came to a large, well-kept farm I had never seen before. M drew my left rein, and we turned in, passing an open gate with His initials on it - SJ, around a rose. So that's what my brand looked like!

He high-stepped me smartly up the farm road to a tidy looking barn, and reined me to a stop. Unhitched, I followed Him into the barn, directly to a stall with the name "debby" on its lower gate. Not surprisingly, M did not carry me over the threshold of my stall, but urged me in with His crop. Still, I was content, happy. Debbypony was home.