Sorry? Oh, yes, she really calls me her footman.

A beautiful footman? You flatter me, Master… I am glad you find red hair pleasing. Er… Yes, I think it amuses her to have little me as a sort of mock-footman rather than a real foot woman. But it is not my place to speculation my Lady's motives! Please forgive me Master.

Thank you Master. I am here to show you around the grounds and tell you a little about my Lady's life and ways, before you meet her at dinner tonight. I am completely at your disposal. Please follow me, and we will begin in the garage, as my Lady calls it.

This way. Please keep to the gravel paths.

Thank you Master.

Yes, I too am a slave – my Lady is my owner. I was taken by slavers from my home country and sold to my Lady, for a sum I am unaware of. I think my Lady liked my appearance, so I am very lucky not to have become just a household slave. Compared to most of other slaves on the estate, I am in a privileged position. Even though I wear the same tattoo as the other slaves – here, below my navel, is my Lady's family crest – I and the other two staff slaves, Kelly and Joy, have authority over all the other slaves.

What are the staff slaves? We run three areas of my Lady's estate – we are overseers, in all but name. Kelly is in charge of the eleven grounds slaves and the kennels, and they do all the menial work around the grounds – mowing lawns, tending the hounds and such. Joy oversees the ten household slaves, who handle the dusting, cleaning and general maid-type work – they are all very pretty, as my Lady buys them as ornaments as much as for cleaning. And my duty is to handle all matters to do with my Lady's twelve stable slaves and all of the ponygirls. Really, the ponygirls are the important ones – my Lady's whole calendar is based on ponygirl events and gatherings of owners, and she breaks and trains them herself, so the ponygirls are almost like her job as well as her hobby. The slaves are just here to maintain her holdings.

The difference between us three and the normal slaves? Of course. Alone among the slaves we three staff slaves are given days off, which we can spend playing, riding, whatever we like really. We have our own quarters with luxurious furnishings – the other slaves have horribly austere quarters, just big bare rooms where they're chained up at night. We three may also address our Lady without first being addressed. The fact that she sent me to greet you rather than one of her household slaves is a sign that she considers you more important than the average guest.

Oh, yes, all the slaves are female. Each has a number: S for stable, H for household, G for grounds, followed by 1, 2, 3, 4 and so on. There – see that girl over there, the one in the boots and gloves chopping the firewood?

Yes, Master, quite a sweat – I think she's been doing that since dawn. Anyway, she's G4. The designation is tattooed next to the crest above the crotch. And the blonde just passing in the background in the jodhpurs is one of mine, S6.

No, we slaves use each other's names. My Lady does not, but she allows us to call each other by name as long as it is not in hers or her guests' presence.

No, I don't have a number. Another privilege – our Lady calls Joy, Kelly and myself by name.

No, I would usually have more clothing than the other slaves – plain, normal work clothes. What I have on now is part of my dress uniform, which my Lady clothes me in at events or to receive guests. There's more to it than just stockings, gloves and top hat, but today my Lady wished to show me off – that is why she has also decorated me with the sapphire collar and cuffs. I think she is trying to impress you, Master! Oh, but there I go again. Please forgive me.

Thank you, Master. Anyway, each type of slave has a sort of uniform my Lady designed. The stable slaves have leather jodhpurs and riding boots. The household slaves have black thigh boots, black lace gloves, and white lace aprons – they also have black velvet bow ties on their collars. The grounds slaves are all dressed like G4 who you just saw – naked apart from heavy boots and work gloves. Apart from that all the slaves wear collars, so they can be chained up when they aren’t working. Kelly, Joy and I wear similar outfits to the other slaves in our areas, but we are permitted more variety and, er, surface area.

Escape? Master, please speak more quietly! I… I would not wish to escape,Master. I belong to my Lady. Besides, my life here is in many ways better than anything I could otherwise hope for.

Yes, the other slaves may be… tempted on occasion, I suppose. But the estate's walls are high, and topped with spikes and electrified wire. And Joy, Kelly and I keep track of what all the slaves are doing. None of the slaves has ever even attempted to escape. But please, Master, do not make me speak of such things.

Thank you, Master.

Yes, that's it over there, the garage.

Here, the garage. If I can just lift the door…

Thank you for the assistance Master. This is where my Lady's ponygirl equipment is stored. Probably the most important things in here are the racing sulkies – three of them, just over there. They are what my Lady drives in competition. Two are for one ponygirl, and the other is for tandem races. There is also a Roman-style chariot for a Circus event held every year by one of my Lady's acquaintances in Mexico, and that harnesses four ponygirls. And there is the sled – that’s only used for an annual event in Canada, unless there’s a very unusual winter here!

Yes, that buggy there is for pleasure excursions – the pole holds a parasol in summer, or there's a fold-up canopy for rainy or freezing weather. And the one next to it is a larger version of the same thing, which can seat up to three people, carry plenty of baggage, and harness two, three or four ponygirls. And over there is a rack of saddles – a few are kept in the stables but the rest are stored here to save space. We have twenty, nearly enough to saddle every ponygirl at once, although that has never happened since I was brought here six years ago. Besides, some of the ponygirls, especially the show-ponies, are a little small, at least for an adult to ride.

Sorry? Oh, yes, the local people are quite aware of it! The nearby village of Gravesfield is almost like an extension of the estate, and some of the villagers are employed here as skilled gardeners and cooks. Ponygirl owners have lived in Gravesfield Manor for nearly three hundred years, my Lady says, and everyone in the village has grown up with it. My Lady often travels to the village shops or pub in a sulky – the people always make a fuss over the ponygirls. Or if she has important passengers, guests to impress or bulky goods to pickup, she uses that beautiful carriage there, the jewel of her collection.

You're right, it is big – it can seat four people facing each other inside, plus me sitting on top to drive it. It's light for its size but still pretty heavy, especially fully loaded, so it needs eight ponygirls to pull it, in four rows of two. Anyway, that's the garage – now, if you will follow me, I will show you the stables.

Here we are. This is my charge, and the centre of my Lady's life: her stables. Excuse me as I unbar the door.

Twenty-three ponygirls at present, Master. The number of ponygirls on the estate is always changing as new ones are bought and old ones are shipped out.There are thirty stalls in the stable, but there are usually a few empty.

Yes, Master, shipped out. Racing ponygirls become uncompetitive at around 32, sometimes a bit younger for the short distance runners, and show ponygirls rarely win competitions past the age of 27 or 28. Some my Lady keeps out of sentiment or for pleasure use, but most of them will be sent away, and even the ones that remain will only be here for another ten years or so.

Where do they go? It varies, Master. My Lady resells hers for a token sum to a special auction organisation, and where they go from there I do not know. I have heard of battery milk farms, where dozens of ponygirls are locked into little stalls and given hormones to produce milk for those with exotic tastes. I have also heard that there are some remote countries where farmers buy retired ponygirls rather than oxen because they are cheaper to keep.

I know, Master. I agree it is not a pleasant business. But there is little point in keeping an obsolete ponygirl here because she takes up space and food that could be used for a working one; and there is little else you could do with her. Anyway, that's the bars done. Just through the door here. Mind your head, careful in the gloom and… here we are: my Lady's ponygirls! Ah, they all want to see who this visitor is, look!

Well, yes, some of them. The others are in the paddock behind the stable. Half go out there at once, while the other half stay shut in their stalls. We can go and see them in a moment if you wish.

Yes, they are quiet, Master – they can't talk. Their vocal chords are surgically damaged to the point where they can only make sort of grunting and whining noises, a bit like a real horse. Animals cannot talk after all, so ponygirls are prevented from doing so as well – my Lady says this is one of the most important parts of what makes a ponygirl a ponygirl. Let me give you a closer look at one, Master.

Here we are. This is Cinder, a 19 year-old Black – one of the youngest ponygirls in the stable at the moment. Wonderful, isn't she? My Lady only finished breaking her a couple of months ago.

Yes, breaking in, like a wild horse. All ponygirls struggle at first, understandably I suppose, so their will has to be broken before they can be trained. There are all kinds of methods. The analogy my Lady used to explain it to me is that breaking a ponygirl in is like hitting the exact pitch of note that will shatter a window – break her properly and although you can hardly make her enjoy how she's being treated, you can make her cooperate.

Some take longer than others, Master, it varies. Some are broken in as little as three weeks, for others it can take a few months. But as you can see from the ones standing quietly in their stalls here, all of them become obedient ponygirls in the end.

What type of ponygirl is Cinder? Well, for a few years yet she won’t be in competition. My lady bought Cinder because she believes she has the potential to be a fine racer in a few years' time, once she's strong and experienced enough – I've seen enough ponygirls develop in my time here to agree. Buying a ponygirl young so as to develop future potential is common, Master.

Yes, Master, constantly. Ponygirls never wear any kind of clothing. Well, almost never – there are a few additions that can be made to dress them up for shows. Rings, bells, boots, jewels, corsets, that sort of thing. But the rest of the time they are naked. As I said, they are animals for all intents and purposes. That's also why they don't have my Lady's crest tattooed on them the way the slaves do – instead, the ponygirls are branded with my Lady's monogram on their haunches, like cattle. And their arms are permanently bound behind them like that too – the only time we unbind their arms is to wash them and change the locks and strapping, and during that time the ponygirl is chained in place anyway. I can show you more clearly if you wish, Master?

Very well, bear with me – I'll just open the stall gate and…

Shh, Cinder. Stay.

If I just turn Cinder around here by gently tugging her nose ring like this – that's it, girl – you can see the straps used on their arms more clearly. We bring their wrists to touch their opposite elbows, forming three sides of a rectangle like so, then lock this linked series of buckles around their hands, wrists and arms. It can be drawn more tightly together to thrust out a pony's breasts. And here on her buttock, you can see the brand I was talking about – they are all branded as soon as they arrive on the estate. It's important for security as much as anything since ponygirl theft is not unknown; brands are harder to obscure than tattoos.

Her hair, yes. All the ponygirls have this mane-like stripe of hair down the centre of their heads, the rest is permanently removed by laser surgery. Usually they keep their pubic hair, since this can always be shaved if required– otherwise it can be styled, and dying it is one way of showing colours during a race event.

No, not all ponygirl owners do that, but most events require competing ponygirls to have their hair in a mane. It’s an easy way to instantly make them look more like ponies and less like humans. Of course, what is done with that mane varies. As you can see, Cinder's is in short braids at the moment, but if you look down the rows at the other ponygirls, you can see Spark there has a very long mane, for example, and Neon, the fair European in the stall opposite, has hers pulled into lots of little tails.

And speaking of that laser surgery reminds me – let me show you the final modification made to the ponygirls. If I turn Cinder back around – good girl, there – and… open her mouth… There. You see, at the back there?

Yes, that's right. All the rear teeth are removed.

Oh yes, under general anaesthesia of course, I’m told, their pain is kept to a minimum. As far as I know, this practice is universal along with the vocal chord severing. I believe that as well as the practicality of bridling, the theory runs that it helps further animalise them, both for the pleasure of owners and to make the ponygirls themselves feel less human. Of course, it also means they have to have very fine food. There’s a supplier attached to my Lady’s social circles that produces feed specifically designed for ponygirls – it's got finely diced red and white meat, vegetables, dried fruit, added sugars and all sorts, all in the same mix. You can see some of it in Cinder's trough there. Hang on, I'll just come out and lock Cinder in her stall again. There we are.

Yes, there is only one ponygirl to a stall. My Lady prefers them not to have physical contact with each other – there are always at least two stable slaves watching the group in the paddock to make sure they stay apart out there as well. The only exceptions are Ifrit and Si'la, the Arabian twins, whose cohabitation was a request of the Sheik who gifted them to my Lady.

Er. That's right Master, they don't. The ponygirls are deliberately deprived of any, er, release, as you put it. Well, the racers are – it keeps them tense and wilful, 'explosive' as my Lady puts it. But the show ponygirls have to be relaxed, so the stable slaves, er, assist them with that as part of their duties every Monday and Thursday. The racers are sometimes given pleasure as a reward, which gives them something to race for. They just aren't permitted it at will, or with each other. Part of keeping them under control, my Lady says.

The ones outside in the paddock? Certainly, Master. Follow me down the aisle here. Here are some more of the ponygirls – Spark I showed you before, she's a 24 year-old European and a good solo racer, and she's also won a few tandem races with Neon. Here's Jade, my Lady's only Golden, 21 years old – she's an amazing dressage ponygirl, so agile and quick. This tall Black is ember, my Lady's favourite riding ponygirl – she was my Lady's first ponygirl, a gift from her parents nearly… oh, nearly fifteen years ago now! She's the strongest in the stable even though she's 35, getting on a bit for a ponygirl. And this little European on your right is Ice – she's something special. She's an 18 year-old, the youngest ponygirl in the stable – but she broke amazingly quickly even for a tender filly, and her little breast has already had a third place show rosette pinned to it. If she turns out to have even half the grace of an average ponygirl once she's fully trained, she'll run away with shows for years.

Thank you Master. Here, let me just unbar the far door…

And here's the paddock! Here are most of the rest of the ponygirls. The last four are being exercised in the other paddock around the back of the barn.

No, they could not, Master. The wooden fence has electrified wires wrapped around it. And two of the stable slaves are minding them, there. Besides, they're broken well enough not to even attempt it – properly broken ponygirls can even be left unattended. The wire is just a token precaution, really.

Well, they are sent outside to exercise and keep fresh air in their lungs for a few hours.

Oh yes, Master, every single day, whatever the weather, for at least two hours. On especially bitter winter days they are sometimes let in early, but as long as the temperature does not go much below freezing the routine stays the same. Their condition can suffer if they are pampered or left long in their stalls, and if they are left a very long time, their obedience can be affected too.

Not much danger of exposure, Master. They soon become used to the winter and the rain. They are expected to compete in such conditions as there are events all year round and in all sorts of countries, so it makes sense to acclimatise them to it. And the village has a vet, so medical attention and advice is always on hand.

Yes, vet, not doctor. Often she’ll come up to the manor and treat a hound and a ponygirl on the same visit! Since ponygirls can’t talk, they’re easier for vets who are trained to work with animals than for doctors, who discuss symptoms with patients.

The ones being exercised, of course. There’s a separate paddock around the corner behind the barn for that. Would you like to see?

Please follow me then, Master.

Here we are. That’s Pride, Sapphire, Ash and Scythe you can see jogging there, reined to the beams. It rotates at two different speeds – this is the faster one, jogging pace, used to keep racers in practice. The slower one is used for the show ponies, or when my Lady wishes to build a ponygirl’s strength for riding by hanging a weight on her back while she exercises.

It’s powerful, yes. If a ponygirl falls it will drag her along with it, hanging by her bridle! They quickly learn to regain their footing though.

Half an hour, Master. They’ve got quite a sweat worked up there, it’s probably nearly time for them to switch over. One of the stable slaves will unhitch them and lead them back over to the paddock to rest, and bring the next group from the paddock to the wheel. Every ponygirl has at least two sessions on this wheel every day. Then, when all the ponygirls who are outside at the moment have had their two sessions, they will be led inside and the other half of the stable will come out.

Yes, Master, the ponygirls are very active; with twenty three ponygirls in the stable it takes six hours to exercise them all on the wheel, usually ending at midday. In between whiles is individual training; each day my Lady will spend an hour or so each training a few of her ponygirls. I often perform the race practice for my Lady, but she does all the dressage and obedience training herself, and all the training of new or young ponygirls.

Thank you, Master. Is there anything else you would ask of me?

Then we should return to the house.

There are three hours until dinner. My Lady said I am yours to do with as you please until then.

Thank you, Master. If I may say so, it is refreshing to see a man here – all the slaves are female. Is there anything I can… do for you?

A ponygirl trek? There will be time for that with my Lady tomorrow. Are you sure there is nothing I can…

Yes, Master. Of course. I will prepare a sulky.

What? You want me to drive the sulky for you?

Why, yes, there are a number of quiet and peaceful clearings off the track. I don't see how…

Oh! Y-yes, Master, I will prepare the sulky at once! Thank you, Master!