"Usually the petite ones are the biggest fighters," said the trainer. "We got this one a few months ago-- five-foot-one and barely a hundred pounds, but she fought like a wildcat. It took three of us to hold her down while we stripped and harnessed her."

"Damn," I said. It was early morning, and we were headed toward the stable.

"Believe me, we had to pry her jaws open and jam the bit in. She screamed and struggled the whole time. Even the pony boots took us fifteen minutes to put on her."

"Holy shit. Why didn't you just tranquilize her?"

The trainer shook his head. "We don't believe in that. For one thing, getting the correct dosage is too risky. But mainly we want them to get used to the whole experience as soon as possible."

"I see."

"So, anyway, we had to put the ankle hobbles on her and use poles clipped to her bit rings instead of reins to guide her out to the corral and keep her from kicking us, you know?"

I laughed. "How do you train something like that?"

"We hitched her to the back of a golf cart and ran her hard. We kept to the grass, so when she fell she wouldn't injure herself that much. It took almost two hours before we exhausted her."

"I'll bet she was pretty docile then, huh?"

"Not quite. There were tears running down her face, but she still had that fierce look in her eye. After giving her some water and letting her rest for a few minutes, we put her on the training carousel and worked her some more. Her entire ass was beet red from the riding crop when we got done with her. She was a tiny little thing, but, boy, could she take it."

"And she cooperated after that?"

"She pretended to. But, you know, you have to break their will, make them completely submissive."

"Definitely."

"We hosed her down with ice-cold water at the end of the day, fed her only the most bland foods, and laced her up in a leather body sleeve at night so she could barely move. During the day, she could only relieve herself outside, to break down her inhibitions."

"Uh huh. Wear her down."

"Exactly. Then we started with the alterations-- shaving her head, the branding, the tattoos, the piercings. By this time, she realizes that her body is no longer her own, and that active resistance is futile, so she starts on the passive resistance-- going limp, not eating. That sort of thing."

"So what do you do then?"

"We start giving her rewards. Small ones, but enough to give her hope. Like you do with a little puppy, you know? Some sweets, a sexy sports bra, a little perfume. Just to keep her from sinking into a permanent depression. Stylish pony boots are always a hit, because you know how women are about shoes. Also, we have the other ponygirls socialize with her, make friends with her, make her feel she's not alone."

I nodded. "Good. Ponygirls are very social creatures, and crave being with others more than anything else."

"Then we ease up on the punishment and training. By this time, about three months have gone by, and she begins to accept her fate."

"Wow. That long? Do they all take that much time to break in?"

"No. On the other end of the spectrum, you get the submissive ones who take to it right away. Also, the really tall ones are the opposite-- they only take about a week or so."

"Hm. Why is that?"

"I'm not sure. I think it's because they are too self-conscious about their height and about being taller than most guys, so they secretly crave being dominated. Which is fine with us, because they're usually strong, and we use them for heavy work, like plowing the fields or hauling debris."

We reached the stable and entered. The stablehands had already roused the girls and put them in their tack. The restrained women looked at us expectantly as we passed by.

We came to a stall near the other end of the stable and stopped. The trainer nodded toward the petite girl inside.

"And here is our wildcat today-- a declawed and tamed house cat."

The girl came to the front of her stall and nuzzled his arm affectionately. He, in turn, stroked her bare head.

"Yes, you're a good girl," he crooned. He looked at me. "I take good care of my property, and she knows it. As pets, they're better than anything out there."

I looked at her perfect, toned little body.

"You ever have sex with them?"

"No. Ponygirls are for work and entertainment. In fact, they're forbidden to even play with themselves. The only time they are allowed to have sex is when they become breeders." He took her chin in his hand and turned her face toward his. "And we're looking forward to that, aren't we, my little pussy?" he baby-talked to her.

She nodded enthusiastically.

"That's right. You're going to be strapped down and gang-banged by ponyboys every day until you're sore. Then when you're pregnant, we'll milk your titties several times a day and sell it for top dollar to the health food stores."

Her expression didn't change. It was obvious she was a completely new person.

"Here, I have something for you," said the trainer. He opened the brown bag he was carrying and pulled out a chocolate dildo that protruded from a hole in a cardboard box. He hung the box on a hook in the wall, then replaced the ponygirl's bit with a ring gag and stepped back.

The girl lunged for the dildo, taking it in her mouth and sucking and licking it with enthusiasm as if it were a flesh-and-blood erection.

The trainer smiled. "It's made from a mold of my penis. And there's a special surprise in it for her."

We watched her suck and lick voraciously as the stablehands went about their business feeding the other ponygirls and getting them ready for work. A few minutes passed, and then the ponygirl jerked back in surprise. A creamy white liquid spilled from the corner of her mouth.

The trainer laughed. "Inside was a pressurized chamber filled with my cum. When she licked off enough chocolate to expose the opening, it shot the wad into her mouth."

I laughed along with him, and got hard as I saw her gulp down her special treat with enthusiasm.

"That settles it," I said. "You're the man I'm looking for." I pulled an envelope out of my pocket. "This is a check, along with a photo and some vital information about a woman in my apartment complex. I've asked her out several times, but she refuses to have anything to do with me. I want her to pay for her refusal."

He took the envelope and nodded. "Can do," he said.