The Summer Job

by I. Binder
- do not use without the author's permission.

Part 3

As they came around the far turns and started down the straightaway near the building interior Jen could see Abby’s trainer waiting in the track ahead. As they got closer they were brought to a walk and then a stop in front of her. She stepped forward and took Abby’s reins in her hand, then without letting them go she released Abby from the yoke of the sulky. Jen’s trainer exited the sulky, came to the front and repeated the process with Jen, putting the yoke of the sulky back onto the ground. They were both watered again, and then with Abby’s trainer walking in front leading Abby and Jen’s trainer following with Jen in trail they walked toward the paddock that Jen had seen with the tower affair in the center. The Tower was only 8 to 10 feet tall and Jen could see that the poles extending from it could be adjusted to change their height from the ground. Abby and Jen were each led to one of the poles and faced toward the end so that they each faced in a counter-clockwise direction in the circle of the paddock. There was a metal ring in the end of the pole and Jen’s trainer pulled both of Jen’s reins forward and attached them to the ring giving her only about 2 feet of lead between her head and the pole. Although Abby was on the far side of the paddock and was separated from Abby by the tower it appeared that the same thing was happening on that end as well.

When the trainers had finished their work they moved out of the paddock and Jen heard a motor come on. The pole in front of her started to move forward and she was compelled to follow as it subscribed a circle. The pace was slow, a walk. Jen wondered what the purpose of this training was. They had been doing fine walking on the track. Jen’s trainer was walking at her side and kept hitting the back of her thighs with the firm part of the whip as she stepped forward. It made no sense and Jen just kept walking in the circle. The trainer said nothing to her. If she wanted her to do something why not just tell her. She was very tired and this was silly. The trainer did not seem happy. She walked away and soon the device stopped turning. Jen looked over toward Abby and tried to shrug, but she could not get a clear view of her. The trainer had gone over to a box near one side of the paddock and was talking with the other trainer.

In a minute the trainer returned holding some type of small metal frame. She brought it around in front of Jen and attached arms of the frame to each side of her belt. Then holding it level to the ground so that the frame extended in front of Jen by about 20 inches she connected two lines from the forward corners to each side of Jen’s collar. The frame was made up of two bars connected to her belt, these spread outward to a bar in front. Below the front bar a very light plastic looking bar connected with a number of loose wires so that it hung below the front bar. At the center of the front bar was a black plastic box only about an inch thick, 3 inches to one side and 4 to the other. It had a number of knobs and lights. Right now there was a green light lit. The trainer then took three wires from the box, each one with an alligator clip on the end and clipped each of them to the rings at Jen’s nipples and the ring at her clitoris. Jen did not know what they were for, but she was pretty sure she was not going to like it. When the trainer seemed satisfied she pushed a button on the box and the light turned from green to red. Then she adjusted a knob and pushed another button. There was a sharp electrical shock that suddenly surged through Jen’s nipples and clitoris. Jen was caught completely by surprise and she shrieked and jumped. She was right, she did not like this. She did not like it at all and she did not want any more of it. But what was it for? What did they want?

“What do you want me to do?” Jen tried to say through the bit, but if the trainer understood her query she ignored it, she gently patted Jen’s flank and walked back away from her. A squeal from the other side of the tower told her that Abby had been similarly attired.

Then the tower device started up again. Jen, caught by surprise, stumbled forward. As her foot hit the ground the shock surged through her sensitive body parts, then the next foot and a similar shock. But before her third step the trainer used the tip of the whip to touch upward on the extension below the forward bar – no shock. Jen got the idea with her next step she lifted her knee to touch the bar – again no shock. If she lifted her leg high enough with each step there were be no shock. If she was short as she was with the fifth step there was a shock. For God’s sake, all they had to do was tell her to lift her legs with each step they did not need this torture device. But it was not easy. In order to reach the bar she needed to raise her knee with each step so that her upper leg was roughly parallel with the ground. Not so easy. Her legs were already tired. It seemed like they weighed a hundred pounds each. But she really had no choice; every time she missed the bar she got a shock. And the pole kept pulling her forward. Once she had tried to stop. The pole did not look that strong, but it was stronger than her. There was about a half a second while her reins tightened then she was jerked forward as the bit pulled painfully in her mouth. She had to stumble forward in a series of short steps to catch her balance. This, of course, was rewarded with a series of shocks as each foot hit the ground. She was not sure how the device read her footfalls, but it did not miss a one. She would not try that again.

As she moved around in circles following the pole in front of her and lifting her knees as high as she could her trainer walked next to her. Now the trainer began tapping the top of her knee when she raised it. Abby assumed this meant she was raising her knee too high, but she wanted to make sure she hit the bar to prevent the shock. If that meant raising her leg too high, so be it. The trainer reached forward to the black box and flipped a small switch. This time, when Abbys knee hit and lifted the bar, there was a terrific shock to her clitoris. Damn it, that wasn’t fair. Her next knee fell short and her nipples received the shock when her foot hit the ground. The next leg touched the bar but barely lifted it from its position. That was the ticket – no shock. Abby had to focus on controlling the lift of her leg. She did not know what the tolerance was on the height of the lift, but it was not much. The frequency of shocks, both to her clitoris and to her nipples increased dramatically as she worked to control the exact step and range. Her legs felt like they were going to fail her at any minute, but she kept going and her rhythm was getting better. There were still shocks, but now very few.

It seemed like forever before the device was shut down. Jen could only stand in place and pant to get her breath. Mercifully her trainer removed the torturous training device and returned it to the box at the side of the paddock from which it had come. Jen was then removed from the pole and led to one of the pens. The trainer opened the gate, guided her inside, attached her hobble, removed her reins and then closed and latched the gate. Naturally the gate latched on the outside. She was soon joined by Abby. Abby looked completely exhausted. She headed straight for what looked like a bale of hay and fell down on it. Jen followed over and sat down next to her. She leaned her head on Abby’s leg. It was the first time they had touched since they got here. It was the most freedom they had had since they were first secured in their pony attire. It was the first time they were not actually attached to something and could actually reach each other. Was this a chance?

Jen carefully examined the hobble. It had a clip on each end that fastened to the ring on her ankles, but the clip was in the fashion of a part of the fastening ring that had to be pulled up the ring before it could be removed from the ring. A simple task with the use of a hand, but without hands it was an impenetrable barrier. But, even hobbled she could walk. If she could get to the door could she get outside? She knew they were near a port. How far would she have to go to find help? She could see the door to the outside, but right now she was locked in a stupid animal pen. Under normal circumstances she could have been over the side in about 3 seconds. She got up and went to one of the fences. There was not enough space in between the logs to squeeze through. It was either over the top or out the gate. The top of the fence was about even with her chin. She wondered if she could use her chin for leverage on the top and then work her way up the inside with her feet. She pushed against the fence and lifted her foot as high as it would go. Her toe came even with the middle of the first log. To get any purchase she would need to get a foot on top of that log. That was about 6 inches more than her hobble would allow. She thought of trying to jump against it and then wiggle up, but without arms to hold on with she would just fall back inside. Climbing seemed unlikely.

Jen moved to the gate. The top was a little lower than the fence, up to her neck; she could put her head over the top. Both the hinges and the latch were on the outside. She pushed against it with her body. It was sturdy. Not going anywhere. She looked over the top and saw the latch. Not a latch, but a bolt almost two feet below the top of the gate. It had been slid into a receiving metal loop on the gate post but then the handle of the bolt itself was lowered down over a flange. It allowed a padlock to be used to lock the gate, but there was no padlock. Didn’t really matter, if she was on the bolt side of the gate she could try to use her mouth and head to lift the bolt and then move it so that it disengaged. From her side of the gate there might as well have been a padlock on it. She could not reach it let alone manipulate it in any way. She felt frustrated and helpless. She could look around the inside of the building, but until someone decided to open the gate she was just a penned pony. She was not going anywhere. She twisted and pulled at her arms and hands. She had not done that in a long time. Maybe something had loosened. Maybe there would be some slack she had not found before. Maybe she would be able to get a hand out and find escape. There was nothing. She was just as well held as when the restraints were buckled onto her arms. She thought back about that now. She had just stood there as they had buckled the straps over her upper arms and then she had not even attempted to resist when her arms were lifted and strapped behind her back. Why had she not fought back? If only she could do that over. She would fight like a wildcat to keep her freedom. But she had not fought. She had stood there reactionless while her freedom was removed and she was converted to an animal possession. She kicked the gate. With the limited movement allowed by the hobble it didn’t even make a mark on the door.

Jen returned to where Abby was lying on the ground. Maybe she could use her mouth to release Abby’s arms. She could see that the pouch that covered her arms had four buckles, two at the top and one on each side. She could not see how it attached at the bottom. The closest buckle to her was the one at Abby’s left back on the upper portion of the pouch. Jen knelt down and tried to maneuver the strap with her mouth and tongue. But with the bit in her mouth she could not use her teeth together and it was difficult to even get her tongue out of her mouth very far. She tried to open the buckle but was not even able to get the strap end out of the loop after the buckle. How would she ever apply enough upward pressure to open the buckle – four times – before attempting to release the hands and arms? But then Abby, perhaps curious about what was going on rolled over facing Jen.

Jen said: “I was trying to undo you.” But Abby only shook her head in frustration; she clearly had no idea what Jen had tried to communicate. Just then the gate opened and two more ponies were led into the pen, hobbled, and left. Jen heard the sound of the bolt closing on the outside of the pen. It was the other two newer arrivals. Again, they were a matched pair. They were shorter than Jen and Abby and both had brown hair. While they had fairly ample breasts neither of these two seemed in very good shape. Jen considered herself well conditioned and today’s workout had just about killed her. These two must be really suffering. One of them stood by the gate just staring at Jen and Abby. The other one was rapidly looking about as if hoping to find some means of escape or someone to help. The remains of make-up was completely smeared and her face was wet from crying. Her breath was labored. She tried to say something but Jen had no idea what and really was not of a mind for trying to figure it out. Instead she just turned her head away from them and lay down next to Abby. It felt good just to get some rest.

Jen’s rest was disturbed by the sound of the gate opening. Wondering if her nemesis team was arriving she looked to the door. It was a single trainer. She walked over to Jen and Abby and signaled for them to get up by pulling on their bridles. They did. When they were both on their feet she attached a light line about 6 feet long to Abby’s bit. Turning Jen so that her back was to Abby she brought the line over her shoulder and attached the other end to Jen’s bit. Then she attached another line to Jen’s bit and positioned the next of the pen’s occupants to receive it over her shoulder from behind to the bit, all on the right sides of their heads. With the process repeated until they made up a string of four ponies. Jen did not like her position in the string. She would have rather been on the front or back. Where she was she was subject to being pulled from the front and the back. But there was little she could do but stand in line and wait. She assumed the trainer would now remove their hobbles, but that was not to happen. Instead she heard the sound of a line moving and a snort from the front pony of the string as she began to shuffle forward, this in turn connected with the second, Jen, not wanting to be jerked forward, prepared herself to move forward as soon as she saw the line tighten. It did not completely save her because Abby had not anticipated as well and as Jen moved forward the line from Abby to Jen pulled her back causing a jerk from in front before letting her move forward. Jen did not think she could have invented anything to make her feel more humiliated than what she felt shuffling across the field in a string of hobbled ponies to the interior door.

As they were brought through the door four grooms waited. Jen wondered if the grooms were not allowed outside in the training area. She did not think she had seen a groom out there. Mercifully the grooms replaced their reins and after they were removed from the string took each tired pony to its stall. In her stall Jen was faced toward the front and then fastened to the two walls in the same fashion as the night before but now with her back to the gate. As before Jen’s bit and bridle were removed and hung from their hook. Before washing her down her groom removed her boots, and massaged her feet, calves and legs. This felt very good, but she could tell she would be sore and stiff tomorrow. That fact might make tomorrow a very difficult day. With a bucket of water and a hand mitt the groom carefully washed away the day's sweat and grime from Jen’s body. The groom did not put the boots back on Jen’s feet. Instead, after rubbing her with an ointment she carefully wrapped her feet and legs all the way to her knees in soft white cotton. Then she turned Jen around facing the door, reconnected the lines to the wall and left.

Jen could see her water and feed bowl on the floor. She realized that she had had nothing to eat all day and that she was very hungry. She usually ate two to three meals a day. As she dropped to her knees and leaned forward into the bowl she doubted there would be anything left of the food today, no matter what it tasted like. Actually it was not awful. Cut into bit sized squares she could easily eat without the use of hands. The squares had a slight maple taste as if syrup had been used in its preparation. They were moist but not messy. Halfway through the bowl Jen transferred to her water bowl and drank for what seemed like a long time. She wanted to rest, she wanted to sleep, but her hunger had not been satisfied and she returned instead to her food. This time she stayed with it until it was gone.

As the night before she needed to empty her bladder. She had seen several other ponies do it out on the track when they were just standing, but she had not, and did not want to relieve herself in front of others. She wondered how long that feeling would last. Here she was squatting only a few feet from where she would sleep. At least if she did it out there she wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally rolling in her mess. Moving within the confines of her reins she managed to keep the puddle at distance from where she planned to sleep. This night she did not even check the reach of the reins. She was pretty sure she could not get to them and even if she could she could not get out of the stall.

After she settled onto the ground she softly called out to Abby. “Abby, how are you doing?”

“Very tired and sore.” Came the response.

“Any thoughts on how we can get out of here?” Jen asked hopefully.

“I’m afraid they’ve got us good. I am so sorry for getting you into this Jen.”

“Don’t give up. We will figure out something. This is the twenty first century they can’t get away with this. Even if we can’t get out someone will find out. We will be rescued. I am sure of it.”

“I certainly hope you are right. I don’t want to spend the rest of my days as a pony. I never much liked horses in the first place. I don’t want to be one.”

“Indeed – indeed.” Was all Jen could think to add. They both stopped talking and were very quickly asleep.

The morning, daily, and evening routine for the next two days followed closely the events of this first full day as a pony. She and Abby were awakened by their groom who washed them and saw to their tack before delivering them to the trainer.

The daily training had a morning and afternoon session. There were breaks as one might expect including what appeared to be a lunch break, but ponies did not get to enjoy these. They were watered at breaks (and other times if a trainer felt appropriate) but when the trainers went to the break room ponies were left either hitched to a sulky or reined to the hitching post, almost always hobbled. They would be worked as individuals in the paddocks or on the circular trainer with a lead line. They would be connected either as individuals or a team to a sulky. They were taught maintaining proper form, moving at different gaits, transition from gait to gait, developing speed in the run, synchronizing with another pony, and understanding and obeying commands – both verbal and through the reins. They learned how to raise their knees to just the right height when walking. There was no question of not doing what was commanded. Jen had given some thought to just refusing to obey, but she knew her flesh would succumb to the pain they would inflict upon her long before they gave up their expectations. Her only real option was compliance – whether she liked it or not.

On the third full day Jen found herself again in the paddock with the circular bar. She had trained in this paddock the day before and as she was connected to the rotating pole she had been terrified that the trainer would use the electrical training device, but to Jen’s relief she had not. As a result she was not overly apprehensive when she was connected to the moving bar this day. But when the trainer walked to the box holding the dreaded device Jen panicked. She twisted and pulled at the lines connecting her bit to the bar. She tried to scream “NO” and other protestations but it sounded more like snorting. Before going to the box the trainer had connected Jen’s hobble and this action had become so normal that she gave it no second thought until right now. She tried to kick with her feet but only threatened to lose her balance.

As the trainer approached her with the device she tried her best to twist away, to jump up and down, and to do anything to keep that thing from being attached to her. The trainer set it on the ground for a moment, gently took hold of the left side strap of Jen’s bridle and with the other hand stroked her hair while making soothing sounds. The attitude of the trainer helped and Jen started to feel herself calming. Soon she was no longer jumping and twisting. She was looking into the eyes of her trainer and felt some comfort from those warm grey eyes. The eyes said Jen should trust her. The eyes said she would look out for Jen. Their eye lock continued for a time before the trainer, without breaking eye contact reached down and picked up the device, swung it into place and quickly connected it to Jen. It was in place and connected before it even registered with Jen. Once again Jen jumped and twisted shaking her body to dislodge this evil thing from her person. The trainer stood for a few moments letting Jen work through her fear. Finally Jen realized that there was nothing she could do to get it off. She stopped jumping about. It then took only a couple of seconds for the trainer to finish connecting the hated wires, activate the electrical box, and check it (of course) with a shot of electricity through Jen’s nipples and clitoris.

In the end it was not quite as bad as Jen had remembered – or she had gotten a lot better at achieving proper form. She was shocked, but not a great deal and it did not seem to hurt as much as the first day. Had she become more resistant to the pain or had the trainer turned down the juice? Jen did not know which, but happily accepted either. Still, she never wanted to endure this thing again, but knowing that she could not prevent its use if the trainer saw fit she vowed to make sure that her leg positions at the walk were nothing less than perfect – all of the time.

At the end of each day they returned to their stall to be met by their groom who would then carefully care for them removing and/or loosening their tack and cleaning away the accumulated grime of the day. The evening wash was only a light wash, their primary cleaning was done in the morning, but the evening routine included massaging their legs and shoulders. Jen found herself looking forward to that. She had been sore the second full day, she was feeling sore and a little stiff this third full day, and she was fearful she would be even stiffer tomorrow. They were only fed at night; the food looked the same, brownish grey cubes, but it seemed to have slightly different flavors from day to day. She was glad there was at least some variety. She was always hungry enough after a full day of training with no food to wolf down whatever they gave her.

Jen had tried to initiate some conversation with her groom but had stopped when she was shushed. She would talk to Abby each evening, just to make sure she was there and they were together. It was never for long as they were always tired and fell asleep quickly. Occasionally she thought she heard soft crying on the other side of the wall, but she never commented on it. They avoided talking about their life before although they both assured the other they were going to figure a way to escape. Big hopes, but Jen had not been able to develop anything that even felt like a plan. The security seemed very good. She was not going to be able to get out of her restraints, her stall, or the building by herself. She did not know where that help was going to come from, but she knew she had to be ready for any opportunity. She tried to convince herself that if she waited and was patient something would come along. She had to keep her spirits up and be ready.

It was morning. Jen could hear sounds around her and then her stall door was opened. Her groom entered and Jen was shocked to see a series of bright red stripes marking the back of her thighs and her buttocks. The stripes were raised welts, bright red on the edges, dark red on the center line of each welt, and spotted with purple marks that rose even above the welts. Jen sat up.

“For God sake, what have they done to you?” Exclaimed Jen.

“I can’t talk to you, you are a pony. I am not allowed to talk to ponies. Ponies don’t talk.” The groom looked into her face. It was the first time their eyes had met. Jen saw tears forming in the corners of large green eyes. Jen had not noticed before, but the groom’s eyes were large, a light green that almost looked florescent, but soft and warm – at least they were today.

“They can’t do that to you. Why on earth were you beaten?” Jen continued ignoring the admonition not to engage in conversation.

“My stalls didn’t pass inspection. I received 10 strokes of the cane. It hurts a lot, especially the next day, but it could have been a lot worse. I have seen slaves receive 40 or 50 strokes.” The groom seemed to have forgotten her admonition. Maybe there was something in the tone of Jen’s voice that drew her out.

“It’s not right to have slaves and it’s certainly not right to beat people. They should be arrested.” Jen stared back into the grooms eyes and added: “How long have you been here?”

The grooms eyes closed and her head dipped. “It is hard to gage time, but I think I have been here about four weeks. It is not fair; I don’t want to be here. I am not a prized pony like you; I didn’t agree to come here; I was taken against my will and am held as a slave in this horrible place.”

“I assure you I don’t want to be here either. My roommate and I thought we were coming to work at a resort. We did not know we were going to be captured, restrained and treated as animals.”

“But you came here willingly. You signed a contract.”

“That is true, but we were tricked. We thought it was a job. I have been trying to get away, but how can I when my arms are secured and I am always leashed and locked up?” Jen paused and made sure she had the groom’s full attention. “Look, if we work together maybe we can escape.”

“Do you see this collar around my neck? It has a GPS device so they always know where I am. Even worse, it is somehow electrified. If I step outside the areas in which I am allowed it will send out an alarm and disable me with electricity. They locked it on and then they soldered the key hole. I am a slave and I can’t do anything about it. I must obey them to avoid punishment. At night I am locked in a cage with the other slaves unless I have some night duties. I have to do whatever they want no matter how disgusting or degrading and if I am not completely pleasing it is very bad.”

“How did you get here? Did they trick you as well?”

“Well in a way. A couple of months ago I received an e-mail that I had been qualified for some financial assistance for my sophomore year. That was great news, I thought. I was getting by, but just barely. With study and my job I had no time for any social life and was only getting about 5 hours sleep a night. I of course responded that I did want the assistance. I was given an appointment time at an office building downtown.”

“It was a bit strange, because I arrived about 15 minutes early. There was a buzzer on the door and when I rang it I was told that I was early and I should come back in 15 minutes. I thought I heard some strange sounds in the background, but I didn’t give it more than a quick second thought. I went to the coffee shop downstairs in the building, had a cup of coffee, and was back at the door in exactly 15 minutes, right on the dot of my appointment. This time when I buzzed the door opened. I entered a reception area. Once more I thought it was odd; there were at least three chairs in the reception area but they had not allowed me to come in and wait when I was early. The receptionist asked to see my student ID, and then she pushed a button on her desk. The only other door in the room opened and a tall muscular blond woman came out. She introduced herself to me and asked me to follow her into the next room.”

“Like the reception area this was a room with no windows. There were NO chairs in this room. There was a table against the wall and another woman was waiting inside. She was brunette, not as tall as the other woman, but she also looked like a fitness freak. Both of them had better muscle definition than any boy I have ever dated. They told me they needed to take a picture. I was told to take off my jacket and my boots so they could get a measurement of height. That seemed a strange request for financial assistance, but there was a strip on the wall marked with heights in inches. I don’t know why that made it seem alright, but it did. I felt like I was getting my mug shot taken, but I did what they said. One of them stood next to me and posed me first facing the camera and then, the profile shot. The brunette turned me for the profile so that my back was to her. As soon as the shot was snapped she said to hold still and she reached out and took both of my wrists. The table was just ahead of where I was standing. She pushed me forward with her body while she held my wrists causing me to go face down on the table. I tried to scream, but before I could get much of a sound out the blonde had her hand across my face and was pushing something into my mouth. I tried to twist my head around, but it did no good. It felt like soft cloth in my mouth. But then there was something else held over the outside of my mouth and lips and I felt something being fastened behind my head. When she let go I tried to spit the cloth out of my mouth but it was being held in place by something. I tried to break free of the grip of the other woman, but she was way too strong. After my mouth was covered the blonde came over behind me and started to wrap rope around my elbows while the brunette continued to hold my wrists. She had not pulled my elbows right together, but close enough to be uncomfortable. I don’t know how many times she wrapped the rope around them, but when she finally tied off the knot my arms were all but useless. They let me go for a second and I tried to reach whatever was covering my mouth, but with my elbows tied behind me I could not reach my mouth. I decided I needed to get out of there and I lurched toward the door, but they caught me before I got there. This time the blonde stood behind me holding me by the arm while the brunette produced a large set of shears and started to cut away my clothing. I tried to scream and twist but it didn’t even slow them down. It was only a matter of minutes before I was completely naked. To say I was terrified is an understatement. I could not understand how something like this could be happening.”

“After they had removed my clothing the brunette held me from in front while the blonde returned to the ropes. She tied another rope to the ropes at my elbows, ran this around my chest under my breasts a couple of times, then a couple of times above the breasts, and then after she had tied another knot between my elbows she ran the rope over my shoulder, and down to the ropes above and below my breasts. She cinched those ropes together and then returned the rope over the other my shoulder to be secured at my elbows. I knew I was finished and pretty much gave up fighting at that point. I tried to beg and plead, but my mouth was stuffed and very little sound came out, none of it recognizable. But they were not done with me. They tied my wrists, and then they tied my knees and my ankles. Then holding me by either side they hopped me to the other door in the room.

One of them opened the door and my legs went weak. It was a carpeted room with no furniture that I could see, but lying on the floor near each wall were three other girls. Each of them was lying on her stomach with her legs pulled up to her hands. I could see that ropes attached their ankles in that position. None of them could see me. They each had a black leather hood fully covering their face. There were some rings attached to each of the three walls and each of the girls had a rope from her neck to a ring in the wall she was next to. Even as small as the room was and with all three vertical to the wall they were attached to even their legs would not touch. There was nothing any girl could do to try to help any of the others. We were all on our own. They were all holding perfectly still and there was no sound from any of them other than their breathing.

I saw an unoccupied ring in the fourth wall and knew what was for me. But first they produced a black leather hood just like the other girls were wearing. It had no eye holes, two nostril holes and a zipper at the mouth. But for the fact that there were no eye holes it looked like something I had seen on horror movies worn by the evil killer. I knew its function for me would be quite different. They removed whatever was covering my mouth, but did not remove the material that had been stuffed in there. Quickly before I could spit anything out of my mouth they pulled the hood over my head. As they pulled it on I could tell that it had padding at the eyes, the mouth, and at the ears. It was tight, and seemed to have laces that pulled it even tighter.”

“I was laid on the floor and to my horror felt something being pushed into me in front. I had used a vibrator on myself before, but I had never had anything pushed inside me before. But then they rolled me onto my stomach and I felt something invading my rectum. I did try to fight back at that, but with one of them sitting on my legs and the other across my back it was useless. They even made it worse by laughing. After whatever they had inserted was in one of them tied another rope around my wrists and pulled it between my legs and up to the ropes between my breasts holding whatever they had inserted tightly in place. It seemed like they were doing something with some wires, bringing them forward from these two devices up, under the ropes at my breasts and plugging them into something in the hood. Then the hood’s mouth was unzipped and the packing in my mouth removed and then it was re-zipped.”

“I suggest you stay quiet and hear what we tell you.” One of them told me.

“’What are you . . . ‘I started to say when the most horrible shock ran through my pussy and ass.”

“I told you not to speak.” Said the voice. “You will learn to be an obedient slave in time, but it may be a painful trip. The hood has a sound activator connected to the electrodes we inserted in you. Surrounding sounds will not set them off unless they are quite loud, but almost any sound you utter will. The louder your sound the greater the shock. It allows us to leave your mouth unpacked and reduce the chance of your choking to death. Dead slaves are not worth much. You and your friends here are now slaves. You are being sold to fill a contract. What your tasks will be as slaves is completely up to your new masters and mistresses, but you will do whatever it is they tell you to do. From this day forward your only mission in life is to please every whim, desire, and directive of your owners. Nod your head if you understand.”

“I understood, but I did not accept it. I shook my head back and forth as hard as I could.”

There was a laugh then: “You will my dear. Believe me – you will.”

“With that I felt a rope circle my neck and knew I was being fastened to the ring. Then I felt a rope attached to the cinch at my ankles. My legs were folded up and one of the women leaned on them while the other tied the new rope off at my elbows. The effect was that my feet were pushed up against my hands, which were in turn pulled down into my ass. When they finally got off of me I tried to twist and pull at the ropes, but I could not reach anything and they were very tight. I thought I heard the door close and assumed we were alone. I knew that there were three other girls in the room, but I could not see them; I could not touch them – so I could not try to help them; they could not help me; and they were not saying anything – of course, neither was I.”

“I don’t know how long we were left there like that. I have never been tied up before – well, not tied up like that before – but it seemed like a very long time. Eventually I heard sounds in the room. I felt hands lifting me from the floor and putting me in some kind of container. The lifting and moving had no impact on the voice activator in my hood, but as they were putting me in the container they brushed the front of my hood against the side and a sharp shock hit me. I responded with a squeal that gave me another shock. I was still hogtied as they put me in what I was sure was a shipping container and even fastened additional straps across my body to hold me inside. I was terribly uncomfortable and did not want to stay in that position, I tried to jerk and pull at the ropes as they secured me, but it did no good. I would stay hogtied. And although I was not gagged, I would stay quiet. And I did stay hogtied until they got me here. And I stayed quiet, for the most part. I found that even twisting about could get me shocked if I started to breathe to heavily. Again, I don’t know how long it took. I did doze off a little, and I could tell there was movement, but I don’t even know how far they took me. I don’t even know where we are. I am not allowed outside.”

Jen was surprised at the detail of the description. It seemed that once the groom started talking she couldn’t stop reliving the experience. After a brief pause Jen answered: “We are in Southern California.”

“Oh my God. They took me clear across the country.”

“But it is worse. They are planning to take us to some island resort. I think it is in another country. If they get us there I think we are in BIG trouble.” Jen looked carefully at the little groom as she spoke. She needed very much to enlist her help.

Her eyes got big again. “That makes some of what I have heard make sense. I was wondering where the other parts of the facility that I was hearing about were.” She started to cry again. “I don’t like being a slave. I want my life back. This has been just so horrible.”

“We have to escape before they take us to that island.” Jen looked into her face to make her point.

“I told you I can’t. If I even step outside my assigned area alarms will go off and I will be disabled.” She started sobbing. “We are doomed.”

“Maybe not, if I can get out of here I can go for help, bring the authorities and have these maniacs arrested. I can’t do it alone, but you can help me. Undo my arms and help me get out of here.”

“I can remove the pouch on your arms, but the individual straps underneath are locked. I don’t have a key for that. And I don’t know the way out. I only know the areas I am allowed to be in. I have some idea where the way out might be, but I don’t know who or what might be nearby. Their punishment is very severe and mercilessly applied. I am too afraid of them.” She turned her head away from Jen and dropped her chin. “It is useless.”

“These locks can’t be very big. Maybe we can break them off. Do you have access to any tools?”

“Not really. There are three locks on your arms under the pouch. And there are locks on many of the buckles of the harness.”

“We don’t need to take the harness off, just free my hands.”

“Ok, I’ll try, but we can’t do it now. There will be too many people around right now. Let’s get you ready for the day and I will see if I can find something to break the locks at the end of the day when I am supposed to be putting you to rest. Then after everyone goes to sleep you can sneak out.”

“That is a good plan.” Jen admitted. Then the groom set to completing the morning’s tasks. They had been talking without working for a while so she had to hurry. As a result they talked very little as they finished preparations. Jen knew this plan was risky, but she knew she had to take a chance. She wondered if she should try to take Abby with her or go alone. Once she was free she could try to release Abby. Or she could just try to get out and get help. She would cross that bridge when she got there. First she had to get herself free.

When she was ready the groom attached the reins and led her out of the stable as if nothing had transpired between them. Jen had wanted to give a final word of encouragement before they left the stall but the bridle and bit were now in place and she was no longer able to talk. Her stomach knotted with the feeling of helplessness. Her legs were very sore from the days before and as she had expected she was stiff.

Jen’s trainer was waiting at the door; she took the reins from the groom and led Jen out into the field. She was led over to one of the single yoke sulkies. It took her trainer only a matter of minutes to attach her to the sulky, jump into the seat, and cluck and rein her to start. Jen moved out at a walk, even though her muscles were stiff and did not want to respond she forced herself to carefully raise her knees parallel to the ground with each step. She worried whether she was doing it correctly. Then, to her relief, she was moved up to a trot and held at that speed through the end turns and up the back stretch, she felt impaired by the stiffness of her muscles, but they also seemed to be relaxing and loosening up as she moved forward. Jen had been belled again this morning and the bells sounded different with only a single pony, but the sensation of the three small bells on her nipples and clitoris bouncing while at the trot seemed even more sensual than before. She wondered if it was possible for her to trot herself to orgasm. Unfortunately she did not get a chance to find out. As they closed on the far turns the trainer signaled her to increase to a run. Jen picked up the pace. Even though there was more weight to pull with only a single pony Jen did not find it difficult and the fact she did not have to coordinate with another pony helped.

As they came back to the break area Jen could see Abby hitched to a similar sulky just starting out. It appeared that she was having a difficult time. Even though they were well behind her Jen could see that she was not lifting her legs high enough on the walk and actually seemed to be wobbling back and forth. Jen knew the trainer would not be happy. Jen, on the other hand found that the lap she had just done under the control of her trainer had been just what she needed to loosen her muscles. Then she was brought to a stop. It had been fine while she was moving, but stopped she felt the pain and stiffness rush back into her legs. She hoped they would get going again soon.

To Jen’s surprise her trainer got out of the sulky and walked up to her, stroked her breast, flank, and head. Then she held up something that appeared to be white rubber. It looked to be about six inches wide. There was a triangular shaped hole in one end which the trainer put over Jen’s nose. Then she flipped the rest of it back over Jen’s head. The effect was that Jen’s eyes were completely covered from the top of her forehead down to just above her mouth. Because the rubber molded to her face over her bridle Jen could see nothing, not even a hint of light coming up from below. Jen did not like this. She shook her head back and forth trying to dislodge the covering, but it was formed to her head. Like so much else that they did to her it was out of her control. She would be without sight until her trainer decided to give it back. She felt disoriented. She was confused, she couldn’t imagine why the trainer had done this to her.

Then she heard the clucking noise made by her trainer when she wanted Jen to start moving. She also felt the shaking on the reins. Certainly she was kidding. She was not expected to pull the sulky blindly. But the snap of the buggy whip against her flank spoke to the contrary. Jen began to walk, pulling the sulky behind her and lifting her knees in the fashion she had been trained to perform. A slight pull to the right on the reins adjusted her direction. She must have overcorrected because there was a slight pull to the left. What did they expect if she could not see where she was going? This was absurd. But then there was the snapping up and down of the reins. “Trot? Really?” Jen said to herself. The message was made clearer with another snap of the whip and another red mark to decorate her back end. Trot she did.

The track was level and she had been around it many times, but she also knew there was a wall up ahead somewhere. Would the trainer let her trot head-on into it? She doubted that she would. Was this an exercise in trust? How could she trust people who had tricked her and taken away her liberty? If they were capable of that what else were they capable of? On the other hand, what real choice did she have? Her buttocks and thighs were already speckled with small red welts from corrections made by her trainer and that was when she was trying, and being compliant. She remembered the red and purple stripes she had seen on the groom this morning – she suddenly realized that she didn’t even know the grooms name. This place objectified them all. That had been punishment. She did not want punishment. So she trotted. She had been ‘wool gathering’. She must be getting very close to the wall. She felt herself slowing down in anticipation of running out of track. The trainer sensed it too and two snaps of the whip, one to each buttock reminded her who was in charge. If they wanted her to hit the wall she would have to hit the wall. This really sucked. The reins were being pulled to the left, it was fairly sharp – the wall must be close – she followed the signal. She must have over executed the turn because there was a right pressure on the reins. She corrected. But, most important she had not broken her gait. “Pretty good trick without being able to see.” She congratulated herself.

The next leg of the turn onto the back stretch was much more gentle and she followed the pressure that was applied to the reins. This time there was no correction at the end of the turn. Again she was proud of herself. She hated not being able to see, but she had to admit that she was becoming much more sensitive and in tune with the signals of the trainer. In her mind she visualized the track. She could sense the desire of the trainer. Her movements were perfectly tuned to the reins. The slightest pressure to the left side caused an almost indistinguishable adjustment to the left. Her trotting gait was perfect. She could hear it from the bells and of course she could feel it. She had reacted to the shaking of the bells before, but with her sight taken away everything was amplified. Just as she could feel the minutest pressure from the movement of the reins she could feel every bit of movement at her nipples and clitoris. She was not sure she had ever felt anything quite as pleasurable before. All she could think about was the gentle massaging of her nipples and clitoris. Without her eyes her body had taken over. It was responding to the movement of the reins without her thinking about it; but more importantly to her right now, it was responding to the sexual stimulation of the bouncing bells. She was going to cum. She was actually going to climax from trotting with bells bobbing up and down on her sensitive body parts. Well, why not? She had brought herself to climax by using her hands on those same body parts, having it happen to her without the use of her own hands only seemed to enhance the feeling. Then it was on her. Ripples ran from her sex down her legs all the way to her toes and up her body to her head. But she didn’t break stride and that helped the rush of pleasure to continue to surge through her with each bounce and step. She was sure anyone watching would have seen the shudder course through her body, but she did not care. It was the best she had felt since she came here.

She had lost track of how far she had gone or even where exactly she was on the track. She knew she was on a long stretch, but not which one. She did not even know how many laps she had made. She remembered making at least three complete turns, had there been more? There was the shake of the reins, not a signal to turn or adjust. The trainer was calling for her to run. No question. She did not even have to think and interpret the signal. Her body reacted without question. She was running, blindly trusting in the direction from the two leather straps one attached to each side of the bit in her mouth. And it felt good. She wasn’t even winded. She felt like she could do this all day. She didn’t care where the wall was. She and her trainer were one. They would not hit the wall. They ran, they turned at pace, they ran some more. She heard other sounds, other ponies and their sulkies. They were passing others. No one passed them.

The signal was to move to a walk and then a few steps later to stop. If felt effortless – Jen stood proudly. Even though her eyes were still covered she could feel other eyes on her. Certainly they were all marveling at her performance. “Top that!” She thought. There was something at her lips. It was a water bottle, she was being watered. She eagerly took it in. It seemed that most went into her mouth and down her throat – almost nothing dripped. She wondered if Abby had done the same exercise and how she had fared. She wished she could see what was going on, and then, if by force of her mental desire, the eye covering was removed. She was standing near the hitching post. She looked around for her nemeses team. She hoped they had been able to see her performance. They were hitched together to a double yoke sulky to her right. They had seen her. One of them was looking away from her trying to maintain her smug continence, but she would glance over at Jen from time to time, a maneuver that broke the previous aloofness. The other pony was looking at her. Jen had expected some sign of acceptance or respect, but what she saw instead was almost anger. That was even better. Jen smiled and gave her pony tail a proud toss.

The other pony team was to her left. It appeared that their trainers had just unhitched them from a sulky. One of the trainers had a hold of the reins to both ponies and was pulling them toward the pen. Jen could only see the backs of the ponies, but the trainer’s face did not look happy and both ponies showed, in addition to the normal speckling of red marks from the buggy whip, a series of parallel red stripes like the one Jen had seen on her groom that morning. Not as many as the groom had worn, Jen tried to count and decided there were five. They had been punished for something. That answered the question of whether ponies would be caned as punishment. Obviously they would.

But where was Abby? Jen shifted around and then she saw her up near the back turn. She was connected to a single yoke sulky like Jen, but to Jen’s surprise she was not wearing a blindfold. But there was something else. She was wearing one of the step training rigs, the ones that shocked your nipples and clitoris if your knees were not lifted just right. Jen could tell from the look on her face that it was not going well. Jen’s moment of self satisfaction waned as Abby’s face contorted with obvious pain. They really needed to get out of here. Jen’s stomach lurched as she thought about tonight. She knew it was going to come at a great risk. If she succeeded she could save herself, Abby, and her co-conspirator groom as well as all the other ponies, slaves and other captives. If she failed? If the groom got ten strokes of the cane for dirty stalls what punishment would attempting to escape bring? She couldn’t think about that. She might lose her nerve.

Abby was pulled to a stop next to Jen. Her face was streaked with tears. She kept her legs very still to keep from triggering the training device she still wore. She gave Jen a pleading look, but there was nothing Jen could do to help her. She tried to give her a consoling understanding look, but it was hard to be very emotive with your head strapped in a bridle and your mouth clamped around a bit. Tonight she thought. Tonight I WILL get us out of here.