Skeeter Bite had no idea what use she was going to be put to when she was loaded onto the horse trailer early one morning and strapped in. All she knew was that she hated her summer job as a farmpony, she hated being outside in nothing more than a push-up bra and maxi-pad (which was held in place by alligator clips hanging from the waist belt of her harness), and she HATED her new pony name ("Are those her titties or was she bitten by mosquitos?" joked the ponygirl broker when her pulled down her padded bra in his office. "Ha, ha! That'll be her new name: Skeeter Bite."). Still, she had to pay for her college tuition, and this was the only well-paying job she could get.
Fortunately, the trip was short, and she was led out of the trailer and into the fields on another farm by the owner.
"Glad you could bring her. We could use a little extra muscle for this job."
Skeeter Bite could see two other ponygirls standing near some trees, a tall athletic-looking girl and a stocky muscular one. They were completely naked, and both of their harnesses had been chained at the waist and upper back to a tree stump half dug out of the ground. Four men stood nearby with shovels. The petite newcomer began to have some serious misgivings about this. The stump was at least five feet in diameter, but she knew that, despite the obvious attempt to dig it out, the roots would be long and difficult to pull out. And though she was athletic, she was only five-foot-two and barely weighed more than a hundred pounds; she didn't see how she could contribute much to the effort.
She was positioned between the other two and thick heavy chains were clipped to D-rings at her waist and between her shoulder blades. She noticed that the other ponygirls had not even glanced at her as she was brought over, attesting to the thoroughness with which they had been trained. There was the sound of shovels hitting earth, and then the farmer barked the order:
"Okay, girls, PULL!"
Skeeter Bite dug in with her ponyboots and leaned forward, straining against the weight of the thickly-rooted stump. She heard the other two grunting and groaning beside her as they, too, struggled to uproot the massive obstruction.
Her muscles tensed, her lungs felt ready to burst, and her face was red with exertion, yet she and the others didn't make an inch of progress. A whip sliced into her bare ass, burning a line across her pale flesh.
"HARDER!"
She tried, as did the others, the toes of their ponyboots gouging the hard earth and their grunts and groans turning to moans and whimpers. Her harness sunk into her chest and stomach, making her fear that she would crack a rib or rupture an organ. But then, she heard the sound of something tearing free, and the three lurched forward a few inches.
Thank God they were finally making progress, she thought. But her joy was short-lived-- the roots clung tenaciously to the earth, and they made no more progress for the next twenty minutes, despite the whippings to their butts. They continued pulling, and the petite ponygirl could feel the salty sweat rolling down her face and back in tiny rivers. She began to get light-headed, and she thought sure she was going to pass out.
And that is what the tall athletic girl did. With a sigh, she crumpled to the ground, her feet sliding out from under her and her body hitting with a muffled thump.
The men swore and ordered the other two to stop, then came over and offered medical assistance. As one held her legs in the air to get the blood back in her head, another draped a cold wet cloth over her forehead.
Skeeter Bite felt sorry for the girl, but was grateful for the reprieve. She and the other girl were even given some water to drink and were sprayed down with cold water from a plastic bottle.
When the tall girl had fully recovered, they were immediately put back to work. Skeeter Bite was only a month into her ponygirl contract, but already she was having serious reservations about this job. Flipping burgers was looking mighty good right now. Having her college tuition paid for seemed to be little compensation for all the shit she was going through.
It was mid-afternoon by the time they got the stump pulled free, their bodies leaning at a 45-degree angle to the ground as leg muscles gained victory over dead weight. Skeeter Bite heard a faint voice somewhere ordering them to stop, and she stood there leaning against the pull of the chain, her weak and quivering legs barely able to support her sweat-coated body.
They were given more water, and her two companions relieved themselves on the ground where they stood. Skeeter Bite's maxi-pad was unclipped from the front so she, too, could empty her bladder.
When the ponygirls had mostly recovered, they were unclipped from their chains and led over to some trees, where they could enjoy the shade, though they were forbidden to sit or squat. After grabbing some cold beers and chairs, the men joined them, ignoring the ponygirls as they talked about farming and ponygirls. Skeeter Bite, thoroughly exhausted, paid little attention until she heard her name called.
"Skeeter Bite, c'mon over here!"
Despite her extreme fatigue, the ponygirl trotted over obediently until she stood before her Master. The man reached up and tugged her bra down off her chest, then pinched the sides of her tits until the nipples stuck out.
"Have you ever seen such perky pink nipples in all your life? I just love them purty little things, don't you?"
Noticing her discomfort, one of the others spoke up. "You're right. It's almost a shame to cover them up with a bra."
"Yeah, well, I don't want to detract from her resale value by getting them all sunburnt and wrinkled."
The others laughed and nodded and made more crude comments. Skeeter Bite was too tired to be shocked at this humiliating treatment of her body. Several weeks ago, she would have fought back angrily against this assault, but now she just accepted it. Master let go of her titties and pulled her bra back up before sending her away with a gentle swat on her behind.
She rejoined her companions. The ponygirl tried to make eye contact, but the other two had an unfocused, far-away look in their eyes, and did not meet her gaze. The college girl wondered how long they had been ponygirls, and how long it had taken them to achieve their zombie-like submission. She just hoped she never got to that point. Another three summers of this was going to be hell, though.
When the men finished talking, Master took Skeeter Bite by her reins and led her back to the trailer. She was loaded aboard and driven back to her farm. She stood meekly as she was washed down, re-bridled and re-harnessed, and led back to her stall for dinner. As she munched away on the oats and veggies from her feedbag, one of the stablehands appeared and rapped on the gate of her stall.
"You got visitors."
Skeeter Bite was alarmed. Visitors? Who would stop by to see her way out here? As she was fretting over this odd development, an older couple stopped in front of her stall.
"OH, my God, Hank! Look at her!"
Oh, shit! Her parents! She had told them she was going to work on a pony farm, she just hadn't told them that she was going to be one of the ponies. The young woman squealed and tried to turn her head away to hide her shame, but the straps connecting the sides of her bridle to the sides of her stall prevented her.
Her father was angry. "So THIS is the job you wanted so much? Do you like this? Running around outside naked like an animal and then being trained like some dumb creature? Huh?"
Skeeter Bite couldn't speak, and even if she could, she had no answer. What could she say to her strict conservative parents? The damage was done, and she would be forever branded with her shameful choice in their eyes.
"Let's go, Evelyn. We've seen enough."
Her parents turned away, and she could hear them walking out of the stable. Despite her hunger, she could no longer eat.
Outside, the owner of the farm tried to console the two.
"I'm sorry you had to see this but, well, she's an adult and she signed the contract . . ."
The father's gaze was rock-hard. "She did this of her own free will?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Then she's no longer our daughter."
It was the answer the owner had most wanted to hear, but he supressed his glee. After they had left, he returned to the stable.
"I'm really sorry about that, but they just drove up and demanded to see you. I had no idea you had kept this a secret from them."
She knew he was right, of course, but that didn't help matters any.
"If it's any consolation, we have a little game of chance we offer to those who have trouble adjusting to their new way of life."
He signalled one of the stablehands, who came back a minute later with a large white plastic jar and a box the size and shape of a candy box. The stablehand tilted it toward her, so that she could see the small plastic tiles inside, like Scrabble pieces. They were all arranged by category; about half were labelled ONE YEAR, with the rest labelled TWO YEARS, THREE YEARS, FOUR YEARS, FIVE YEARS, TEN YEARS, TWENTY YEARS, and LIFE in decreasing numbers. There were two final ones labelled FREE.
"Here's how it works. There's a hundred tiles in there. We throw them in the jar, mix 'em up real good, then pull one out. Whatever you get is what you're stuck with. You want to play?"
Since she was stuck there for four summers anyway, she figured she had little to lose. She nodded.
"Good girl." The two men shook the tiles into the jar, screwed the lid on, and shook the jar up. After a minute, the owner opened the lid and reached in. Skeeter Bite watched him rummage around blindly before he pulled out a tile. He looked at it and his face fell.
"Oh, I'm so sorry . . ."
He held it up in front of her face, and the ponygirl felt her heart stop. LIFE. Only one tile with that word on it, and he had picked it. Skeeter Bite heard something rattling, and realized it was the metal links on her restraints as she shook with fear. She tried to shake her head and voice her denial: "Nngo! NNGO!"
"I'm sorry. You're legally bound to serve out your term. You're ours now."
College, career, marriage, vacations, independence-- all gone now, just because she had made a stupid gamble. It can't be! It just CAN'T BE! The defeated girl slumped in her restraints and began to sob, her body quaking as tears streamed down her face and spattered on the sawdust covering the floor.
"If she doesn't snap out of it, we'll just slip some anti-depressants and herbal pick-me-ups in her feed," said the owner as he sat in his office.
The stablehand laughed. "They never catch on, do they?"
"Nope. The LIFE tile stuck to the inside of the jar beforehand works every time. I can't thank you enough for that idea."
The ponygirl was only vaguely aware of the stablehand filling out a form on a clipboard as he stood before her stall. She paid little heed as he hung it on the wall and left. Eventually, though, curiosity got the best of her, and she stretched forward, squinting her eyes until she was able to make out the words in small print: PONYGIRL INFORMATION FORM.
Under BASIC INFORMATION, she saw her pony name, Skeeter Bite. But under Pre-Pony Name, the man had written "not applicable." Not applicable? Didn't her real life matter anymore, or was it just discarded like an old piece of clothing?
Temperament: stubborn. Stubborn? She ALWAYS obeyed orders, no matter how much she hated doing so. She started to fume. As she read further and further, the young girl began to get angry. And then as she got near the end, she began to get scared-- very scared.
What the hell had she gotten herself into?