As I stood there in the hall of the Château, silent and erect with arms folded to my back, held there by full black leather arm gauntlet sleeves that attach to the back of my collar and the strapping harness over the shoulders. They are full individual arm gauntlets and have open elbows for use of my arms when permitted. They are buckled around my arms to hold fast and hold my arms in a comfortable but restrained folded posture to my back, one over the other folded there, and it forces one's chest very well presented. My chest—my breasts, point well and turn up a bit. I love the way my breasts look like this. The gauntlets are always locked on when I wear them, as on that day. Hands free are not an option for me very much, my hands and fingers are free to wiggle and move though, just attached at the wrists and arms and show off my finger nails that were done in silver acrylic this time.

She is right there now; my new Mistress. She sees this slender female with long dark auburn hair, cascading down her back, her long tail. It’s me, standing there silent, sensing my being so very totally. You see—I am for real; a real Pony Girl, a creature emitting a strange femininity to all that see me. My tail is real as well; natural to me now, it was added during the month that so much of me was altered. Its color matches my hair, though it is made of thick auburn horse tail hair and human hair mix, but it is a permanent part of my body.

Mistress looks me over as I stand before her in silence, my lips are parted, teeth bearing down on the bit within my mouth. I wear my bridle harness; its a metal bar rubber coated, as not to damage my teeth, the two ‘P’ rings on each end of it attach to my head harness and cowl. My bit is fitted with a ‘U’ shaped tongue piece called a spoon bit, for my commands. My nose is pierced. I have my ring there which I constantly feel on my upper lip; it’s a wonderful movement and defines my servitude, my captivity really. It is permanent and passes through my septum cartilage in a small flared tube, the silver ring fits through that. This as I say, marks me as a kept female creature that I permanently am now, forever to be. I can never return back to what I was before; nor do I wish to.

My cowl is very fine; fits snug over my head and widow peaks down in front to the center of my forehead, I have a full pony mane that fits through a long slot, in its top back side. My hair comes through it and falls down my back. And atop my cowl, my hair comes through and fans out and stands tall, then sweeps back into long mane arranged like a dress pony should be. Like me. The cowl is golden colored leather bordered in black velvet and it fits me like a second skin. I don’t always wear this though. Mostly just a bridle head harness and my hair free, so I can toss it around and let the wind take it. My hair has been combed, kept tight to my head graining its length as it goes back and runs down the back of my head and turns into the full long length that my hair is; coming far down my back. The only other hair I have other than on my head, is at my sex, a very small hair patch in the shape of a small heart. I have been given electrolysis to permanently remove all the other pubic hair, underarms and leg hair and such.

I am a silent creature, well speech wise anyway, I seldom do speak, I should not or I shall be whipped or punished in some little way, unless I’m told that it is permitted. Master Jonathan liked to talk to me and I did too with him. But with others, no; ‘To disobey is to pay.’ I stand there naked for the most part, but I am always naked really. I wear a thick four inch black leather sculpted collar, locked in back and it comes to a V in the front at the throat, that adorns a large metal ring there, encircling it are silver studs. There are also rings on each side and in back of it.

My breasts are both pierced and ringed, a one-inch stainless steel ring through each nipple. Around my waist is fitted a wide black leather posture belt of the same design, strapped on and it too has rings; six in all, two inch metal rings spaced around me. The belt is studded and gleams in black leather, it is very well made and V’s down in the front to come a bit lower on my abdomen and up to under my breasts and has a strap on each side attached to my collar. My abs are much defined now from exercise, when my belts are not to be worn, my abs really look pronounced. I am proud of my body. I think she sees this.

Above my sex, which is ringed as well, with one small ring through my clit hood and one through each labia lip, they have tattooed me. Three years ago upon my completion and coming out cotillion this was done to me. The tattoo is a figure of a small horse-shoe in gold, with its open ends in the upward position; (so as my luck will not run out) within it, my initial, ‘S’, in its center. I like it; it’s ornate and very pretty.

My legs—well— rather my feet. I don’t have human feet you see. It has been three years since I was given real hooves. I was surgically altered, in many ways, and now I stand tall, like if I wore 6” heels with 2” platform soles, when I had human feet. I am five-foot-ten inches standing with the plastic hooves and fitted with steel shoes for out of doors or hard rubber shoes for indoors about the same height. My hooves are black with a silver lower rims to them and they taper. Some times I have been fitted with black leather or brown leather or latex legging slip-overs or laced in back leggings. Those leggings come right up to my upper thighs and I really like them; got support for those times I need them.

Today, I do not have them on; I am bare legged, but, around my ankles are leather and metal over band cuffs with a ring each and are locked on me with a length of small tether chain, no running for me today, as I am presented to her here in this large estate's day room. The room in this beautiful château, with dark brown and off white large tiled floors and large plants around its many windows and tall marble columns, is a showpiece. Mistress is sitting on an overstuffed chair trying to look directly into my down cast eyes. What is she thinking? What does she see in me? I see her well enough; she’s very beautiful, mid-forties perhaps with her hair fashioned tightly back and dressed in brown jodhpurs, white blouse with a pearl necklace and has tall brown riding boots. But my eyes have avoided hers; not to take her gaze. I look at the tile and to the wall, a photo there in a large frame; a meadow with woods surrounding them, a brook running through it, it seems to take my thoughts just to gaze into it. Is this the grounds of this place or some location that I will be pulling her through some day?

Why I am I here I puzzled. Did she buy me; perhaps for half a million Euros? I have come to realize that a real Pony Girl might be worth such a sum if she’s a real striker, and well trained, groomed and tempered and altered as I have been. I am one of those now. It is rare to find one like me, very very rare as I have been aware of. I have seen girls—women who are play ponyies in role and some kept in the role for real. I have been one of those, and have been with them, running, prancing and showing, but now, I am a female creature, altered into a pony creature, not a woman or a girl, but a kept female pony creature, like from another world. I am ‘Pony Girl S’. I love that. I do not have the worry of everyday normal life as I once did and knew it to be. I have been modified, altered into this real creature, to fit this role well and most ever permanently, as I have chosen it.

I have pointed ears, and I can hear very well now. All my teeth have been done, capped or taken care of as not give me a problem. I did not require breast enhancement, as my own breast, were acceptable being a ‘C’, and well pointed with very proud nipples, very firm; all of me is firm. I get exercise daily and a work-out is not an option; on tread mill or grounds or the arena, I work most days. I do feel great like this and proud of myself overall. I have gone through quite a lot, and they that see me know it—she knows it.

I can tell, she holds respect for me in her eyes. I hope that she will be a kind Mistress, but will take a firm hand with me too, I can be feisty and I hope she will care deeply also for my well being; she looks the type, I have seen them. I just hope she is a caring Mistress and knows just what I require. I require a firm hand, but I need gentleness’ too and need love.

My last Master was a good man for me and treated me with respect and kindness but cropped or flogged me some if I faltered. He trained me. He knew my limits; and he was gentle overall. I can accept that, just don’t harm me, mark my body permanently with an ill used whip, for then I will lose my spirit and devotion my worth. I am most willing to give my all, and give back love if it is given me. He was a good Master though, and I did not like to leave his care. I will miss him, perhaps more than I know. But the offer I surmise was the key to unlock my chains. So—here I am. I will miss his love. He took me so many times unexpectedly that I began to expect it to come, and me--and I enjoyed him very much as he with me. I will miss Master Jonathan; the way he treated me and made love with me. The way his hands would run over my body after I’ve worked out and I’m sweaty; I could come in seconds from his hands, Oh—I will miss him.

Now, she is taking her hand running over my right leg softly, reaching up and down my leg. That feels very good. I smell her perfume, subtle— nice. Her hands are soft but—but firmer that most women; she must do work of some kind I think or a craft that makes them so perhaps. She speaks!

“S— turn slowly around for me now.” Her voice was low, tender with authority to it. I turned slowly to the left and stood erect. As I returned to my original position I could tell she was taking in my scent and she liked me.

“Come closer S, that’s right now, don’t be shy, that’s right, now kneel to me here.” She pointed with her right hand two fingers. I did so and knelt at her feet as she sat in the chair. The floor was cool.

“Put your legs aside you and lower your head S, that’s right, good girl.” She placed her hand to my cheek and then she pushed me over by her right hand, and I fell to my right side on to the floor. I immediately sighed and moaned, precariously I got back into pose as I was before. It was difficult to do, due to my arms behind my back in gauntlets and my hooves but I managed. I had to learn all over how to kneel and get back up on my legs or to sit again after the alterations. Her head cocked a bit and she smiled at me. I thought maybe that I should just stay on the floor as I was. Some Masters expect that, some do not. I needed to know her ways. I knew she would soon show me though. But I am S, not a slave.

“You have been trained very well, or you are a natural pleaser, and proud as well, Yes S?”

I nodded my head, a yes, to her. She then caressed me on my cheek and ran her other hand to my breast and cupped it for a long time fingering the ring and then to the other one. She looked straight into my eyes and I had a difficult time avoiding hers. She pulled the nipple ring and I moaned and whinnied. She seemed to like my voice and my sounds.

“There now S, you stay there and I’ll look at you for a while girl. What a find, a prize you are so far, but we will see.”

As what seemed to be an hour, but not one, I sit there in front of her on the floor, then she pressed a button on her belt and within two seconds a middle aged man came into the day room to her side. He was a strongly built man, not tall but very well built with an expressionless face.

“Madam.”

“To veranda Dumont” She smiled at him with not a return but a head gesture from him.

“S, come.” She said and motioned to me. She rose up and stood with his help and to my surprise, she limped off with him, as he enfolded her in strong arms across the floor. Not that she was weak but she could not walk well and limped. I wondered at this. I followed them slowly as my tether link allowed and tinkled and clomped across her floor. She held my leash. My hooves could be heard throughout the house, echoed back and she looked back in wonder as did he. His eyes, when he entered the day room, I could tell were in wonder of me, as earlier when he opened the door to let us in; Master and I. Master left me there to stand, reins to the floor after taking a hooded cape off my shoulders to fully expose me there to my new Mistress naked. He left very quickly, too quickly, but he placed a big kiss on me and patted my behind and said, ‘Make me proud, I will see you again’ there was sadness about him, then, he was gone. A few tears came to me as I waited there in the hallway. I sniffed them back and got myself together. My large wooden and leather gear chest was unloaded and brought in before me and sat in the hallway with me.

I followed Mistress and man onto the veranda that looked out over the vast grounds; the woods and meadows and the gardens. I could not see any houses or roads or signs of civilization. She sat down on a cane wicker barrel chair. I stood waiting, eyes down cast, head lowered, back bowed and chest out; my stance unless the bit is pulled back; then I keep my head up high with eyes down proudly.

“Come to me S.” I did so, strutted over with chain and rein leash dragging the floor.

“Today is a beautiful day for a ride through the grounds and for you to familiarize with it some. You will spend much time there, and in other places as well that you will see soon. I will ‘Show’ you as well. But we must get my Pony Girl geared up for the task. First though, go to middle of room, stand under that truss and ring above, over there.” She pointed up to a large ring in a large broad wooded beam and lightly swatted my behind. I moved over to it and under it and stood there. My heart pounded with expectance of the unknown. I love that. She knew all the hand gestures for me, but I liked that she spoke to me too; told her intentions. Some Masters and Mistresses don’t speak to their fillies much, just rein us for the most part.

She rose up and shuffled over to the where I stood. She does walk some, I could see, not too badly really and she can stand too. She said not a word, took the lock off my arm binders. I held them there just the same. She took one by one and locked them to a chain hanging from the beam ring above me. She locked me there at my full stretched height. I stood as I knew to do with my legs apart by a foot, my chain tether snapped taunt. I looked down and saw the rings in the floor that she clipped each to my ankle rings. I could not move from that spot on the veranda. The air was cool on this hot day and felt very good to me. The climate there is like my Arizona in many ways. When she caressed my bottom and thighs I got wet from her touching me and binding me, as I always do from that, and my heart rate increases some as well and I start to moan and whimper. What will she do? What will she do to me here?

She took up a crop and without hesitation laid one on me to the sides of each butt cheek, softly really and she played me. Next I was blindfolded, my heart pounds when that occurs. I feel myself become wet again. But now, I feel the flogger on my ass and back side, then breasts and belly and thighs. Many times she applied the flogger to me, not harshly really, but with a firm hand; and I knew some pain, and knew its pleasures too that it can bring, but it scares me also; the not knowing what may be next and not knowing her at all. But know too that I have a power of people.

I moaned and whinnied and yelped out all the time towards the end of my plight. At first I sounded little and kept silent. But her whipping was teaching me either to be quiet or give her my sounds. I figured out if I moaned and sounded out, that she kept that intensity up, lighter or heavier as the case maybe. She like to hear her captive, she like my small moaning sounds and whinnies. The intensity got higher when I did not make them. Sometimes the lashing was painful and she liked that too; to hear me. One time I actually said Pleess—Nye, in meek whimper sounds. She kissed my cheek and ran her finger over my full dark eyebrows tenderly and then lashed me a very heavy lash that I shook all over and became limp from it, knees buckled, but all came out okay after. I have had whippings, light flogging and paddling and such, many times before; it is the way of it. They are all so different though and you do not know just where or when or their intensity to come. That is what makes the splendeur of it all. But I do not like to be hurt. At her hands, I felt I was okay, I’m okay with her. She is gentle with me overall but shows me that she can master me and that I should pay attention and know my status here.

My bottom must have been red, it is on fire and she runs her nails over both cheeks and it feels like cutting me open its so tender. I shudder and shuck from this, moaning over and over pleading sounds to stop. She likes that I could tell, Then she takes off the blind fold, my eyes are wet and a few tears she sees and takes one onto her finger and to her lips tasting its saltiness; tasting me. No one has done that before but Master J. I can tell that she likes tears. “Oh boy—tears come with pain, exhaustion, disappointments.” I knew that.

“You’re a good lass, you please me very much. You shall be rewarded.” She stroked my sex and entered me with one—then two fingers and caressed there until I came. “You are very wet, I like that for you to be wet.” I never had a woman do that to me.

“Now—you must get geared up.” She took her cane and walked off and left me there to hang stretched and sweaty and within a few moments her man came back to take me down, locked my arms behind me as before and clipped a leash lead to my nipple rings and led me off, God I hate that; if anything goes wrong—well—I’ve had it. He unclipped my ankles. I looked down and saw a small wet puddle between my legs on the floor. I must have been very wet through the flogging or I peed a little. I knew it was her way of making sure that I knew my place and her strength and commitment.