I woke up ruminating on the Joanne situation, which was a problem I didn’t need. I had problems of my own. I went out to the stable first thing to find no Joanne and my ponies quite restless, already standing, hopping from one of their three legs to the others. With no other grooms in evidence, I was nominated. Off came their hobbles, over to the privy, then down to the washing stream with soap and towels. My steeds were quite good, in step, and staying with the tiny gait their hobble chains had trained them into yesterday. I occupied their minds with some obedience drill while we handled washing their thick heads of hair, and they were even able to give me washing instructions in concert. I didn’t ask for questions, so they weren’t able to quiz me on Joanne. I’d had quite enough of Joanne for the nonce. Breakfast was fed in through their bits, and that took some training of Jim. It was easy enough for them to gape their pretty mouths open simultaneously, but try coordinating full spoons of porridge in each hand. We wound up all laughing at me and they sported porridge lumps here and there. I liked the laughing, it eased the situation a bit.

When all that was over I attached reins and took a look at their posture. It was definitely more severe than the simple # 1 harness called for. They were braced, backs bent, chests out, standing quite still. Their wrists didn’t move at all. I attached the 5" chains, got the cart out, and hitched them up. Then I stood in front, pinched their full lower lips and held them for emphasis.

"This morning you’re going to pull the cart again. This time in complete unison. We won’t be going far and you won’t be able to do a fancy high-knee gait, but every single action will be totally together. First slip, you are both back in posture harness and no lunch. Second slip, no party tonight. After that, God save you for I won’t. You can do this now, you are attuned and acting as one pony instead of two independent ones. Understood?" Simultaneous nods, with smiles around the bits.

"We’ll have very simple commands. Chuck for start. Neck touch for turns. A twitch on the bit means stop dead. Step off with your middle leg. I’ll make mistakes with my touches, and I’ll probably jerk too hard at first, but just concentrate on your bodies and do whatever you sense. Don’t think about what you ‘should’ do, just react. Ready?" Nods. And they were ready, it seemed. I was delighted. This team was now doing exactly as they were told by their necks and mouths. I tried not to jerk on the reins at all, just lay them on necks, and the slightest tug stopped them cold. The first hour went by in complete silence, the only sound their tap-tap-tap three-legged gait, some snorts around their gags, and the creaking of their harness. We went round and round the yard at our snail’s pace, looking ridiculous but demonstrating to me that perhaps I was one of the world’s great trainers. I added a double-chuck from stop, to back up, doing it without any spoken command - just got in front of them, double-chucked the reins, and pushed on their chests to make them back up. Then we added a both-sides-of-neck contact to increase the tempo. They got quite sweaty as I got them up to 120 paces, their feet going pad-pad-pad...pad-pad-pad in a fast rhythm. I kept changes of pace and direction and stop-start coming fast enough that they never had a chance to fiddle with their wrist straps. Then, greatly daring, I lengthened their hobbles to 10 whole inches and we went out in the lane, to the oval. They almost slipped once, the freedom of greater stride length got them going faster than I wanted, but a single slap on their necks slowed them immediately. At the oval, which was fortunately deserted, we all three faced our fate. I got out, unclipped their hobble chains, and kept a tight hold on their reins, lifting their heads. Then, continuing our silent training, I used a quirt instead of my voice.

Without chains you can lift your knees - the quirt pushed their middle leg up so their linked thighs were horizontal. Now prance in place. - I touched their off-legs together, and they snapped the linked leg down and raised the other two. Then touched the middle again, and I slapped my thigh with the quirt to keep the rhythm. (ouch! damn quirt hurts!) 10 times, not too sloppily. Then a rest, then 10 more. We kept at that until their high-action trot satisfied me. All right. Now we’ll do that moving. I touched the middle leg, they brought it up. Then I got in the cart, and ever so gently chucked their reins.

There’s a feeling that English doesn’t have a word for. The French do, of course, ‘frisson’. It’s when you put the helm over just right, the bow comes through the wind and around, the sails crack just once without flapping, and you’re off on the other tack without losing a knot. It’s when you toss the ball way up, reach high with your racquet, slam it right on the sweet spot, and watch the ball go one inch over the net and drop, your opponent totally helpless to return it. And it’s also when you flip the reins of your ponies and they take off exactly in step, knees high, and prancing proudly without any extra motion or wriggling. That’s the feeling I got. It wouldn’t do to spoil them, so all I said, the first sound in two hours, was ‘that will do, ponies’, but I was grinning like a fool. I had them stop and start over and over, then turned them through the gap in the hedge and drove home in style.

I had a team.

I eased all their restraints and fed them lunch, pretty much all they wanted. I was very proud, and it showed, for their chests grew too and they smiled a lot around their bits. I kept up the silent routine, communicating with gestures and touches.

Just after lunch I had visitors. Lelani and Corbin walked up to the stables, and asked cautiously if I had a little time to talk. Sure, welcome, a little wine? I studiously ignored my team, who were standing with their reins looped over a post. They in turn never even glanced at our visitors.

"Well, what can I do for you? After all the trouble my ignorant remark to Joanne has caused, just name it..."

"We were just curious as to how your training was coming along. Is the team trained enough that you could show them off to us?" They couldn’t have asked a more ready demonstrator. I backed the still-harnessed team into the cart’s traces with just one little twitch on their reins, hitched them, as soon as they felt me get in the cart they snapped the shared leg up, then a little chuck and we went around the stable yard with much more vertical action than forward. Not a word spoken. Figure eights, then a stop, and then greatly daring I backed them, did a circle all the way around my audience that way, then forwards again. Sped up the pace, slowed, stopped. Then, hoping like hell that they’d get it, I pulled gently on their bits while they were stopped. This shouldn’t have had any meaning, but they arched in unison, bending way back until their breasts pointed almost straight up, and held it, still with the middle leg in the air. When the tug relaxed they went back to their ‘merely strained’ position. Then a last little shake and they lowered the leg, standing rigidly in place, staring (I hoped) straight ahead.

"Uh, Jim? This is your team?"

"Mine."

"These are Suhanee, the filly with a dropped heel, and Judy, who is considered untrainable, both confirmed wrigglers, the ones you got two days ago?

"Not exactly. It’s the same bodies, but this is a single team, it doesn’t have separate identities in harness, it acts as one. We’ve been training for a whole two days now. Hard work, but they’re game for it."

Lelani stared, speechless. Corbin asked "Are they fast?"

"The individual bodies are, fast as lightning. But the team won’t be pulling at speed until they’re trained more. It isn’t ready yet, we’re still covering basics at slow speed. So I don’t really know how fast a team it will be." Joanne’s parents excused themselves and walked away a bit, discussing something as ardently as islanders ever do - which is to say not too ardently. Then they came back.

"We have been talking to Joanne this morning. She urged us to come see you. We thought we could come, meet with you, then go back and tell her how silly she was, and maybe get her back to reality by tonight."

"I hope you can. I’d hate for her big party to be spoiled."

"Well, we can’t. We can’t lie to the girl."

"Lie?"

"About you. Jim, it seems that we owe you a considerable apology. It was ignorance on our parts, but we did not for a moment think an outsider could achieve anything with even ‘easy’ ponies, let alone the two radiants you have here. But what you’ve done..."

"You mean they aren’t too bad?" I was grinning like hell inside, but kept a straight face. Corbin matched me.

"Not the worst I’ve seen. Excuse us again, please." and they walked off, continuing their discussion. This time took longer, with quite a few looks in our direction, but they appeared to reach an agreement. Corbin took the lead.

"Y’know, you might even be able to do something with a blond filly, put her between those two, you’d have a good-looking troika."

"You wouldn’t happen to know where I could get such a filly, would you? I’d like to try a troika, but I’m poor in favors... Her parents or owner would have to extend me credit, and realize that I’m new at this and may fail miserably." I kept my face serious too.

"Well, it just so happens we do know of one. Young yet, wouldn’t be able to join your team until tomorrow. Some kind of credit could be arranged, you could pay her parents when you get some favors built up." Then we all broke up. There were even some noises from Suhanee and Judy, quickly stilled when I snapped their reins. Joanne’s parents told of her continued stubborn insistence that she should join my team, and of the gradual erosion of their resistance until they agreed to come see me, sure that I’d prove a complete flummox. But that by their standards I turned out to be just the opposite, with Joanne added to my pair I might indeed do well in the big races.

"Not as well as you seem to think, Jim, but you’ll place."

"It’s good of you to extend me some credit, and confidence, but I’d like to convince you otherwise." This brought frowns, was I being difficult about it?

"I didn’t get these two calmed down and obedient by being gentle with them, and they’ve not gone home at all, nor will they. I’m a firm trainer and I don’t hesitate to make them very uncomfortable if they need it. And these two sure needed it. They’ll keep their spirit, but they won’t even think about doing anything ‘independent’. They are going to be an extremely close team. If Joanne were to join them she would be just as disciplined, just as uncomfortable, and just as much a part of a single outfit. Joanne is young and somewhat headstrong - as she’s shown since yesterday. All that headstrength will be flattened right out of her if I train her. It’s not going to be a fun-filled picnic for any of them; I’m still an outside world person, I work harder than most of you folks do, and I plan to work them harder than they knew any ponies could be worked. You may not want that for Joanne."

"We want exactly that, Jim. Exactly that."

"She won’t be home until after the races. If then."

"Fine. She needs the experience of living in stables, being a pure pony all the time."

"She’ll get more closely bonded to Suhanee and Judy, and to me, than she is to you."

"We know. That’s a parent’s problem, to lose their daughter to others. But it happens to everyone."

"I don’t have a groom any more. I tend to them myself, taking care of all their needs."

"Oh, you have to have a groom. Can’t do without one. Joanne’s sister Jappala has done some grooming, she’d be happy to be yours, I’m sure."

"I’ll probably lose, embarrass everyone, and my team will be laughed at."

"Now you’re being silly, Jim."

"I have tried to bring up everything I can to make you reconsider. If you won’t, I happily accept Joanne as my third pony. Price to be negotiated later, after we see how she does and how I do."

"Done. A drink of wine on that, Jim. Lelani, go back to the house and inform our headstrong daughter that her days of making up her own mind are over, from tomorrow morning on she will be a pony on Jim’s team."

"Yes dear, and I have so much to do for the party. Don’t tarry, you have work too." And she was off. Corbin and I relaxed while my ponies didn’t, although I did give them some wine. He turned out to be quite curious about seafaring, and a half-hour slipped by with me telling lies about my dad’s days in sail and mine in steam. Then he left to help get the party ready and I worked the kinks out of my pony’s legs.

They had done well during their long stand, and I could detect no obvious faults in their dressage, so as the sun got low I got ready to take them out of harness and into their ‘civilian’ dress. Just then a girl of maybe 11 appeared and shyly introduced herself as Jappala.

"Thank goodness, Jappala, you are just in time. These two need to be washed, cleaned, rubbed down and put in sarongs. Keep their bits in and make sure they are always under strict control. Feed them dinner around their bits, both at once, so they open, chew and swallow together. You can then take them to your sister’s party tonight, if they obey you totally. If either one acts up, even just a bit, put them in # 6 harness and leave them hung from the rafters. I’ll check back after dinner, I’ll expect a report from you on how well they behaved. Oh, yes - don’t unhook them. Their wrists, knees and ankles should stay connected at all times. If you can do all that, then you can be my groom and handle the team from now on. Can you do it?"

"Yes-master" Apparently Jappala had already talked to her sister about what grooming for me involved and how one spoke.

I went into the Saunders’ house for the first time that day. I was hungry, no breakfast or lunch. Malua was there, she demanded a complete rundown on the day’s events, and that took up the whole dinner. There was general amazement that Joanne’s parents had changed their minds to readily...

"Jim, they just watched you go through some basic drills with your team? It doesn’t make sense! (These folks only remembered my disastrous afternoon three days back.) I assured them that modest improvements had occurred, but they just supposed that Joanne’s parents had lost their minds.

Then I had to think about getting something to wear for the party, my sun-bleached shorts and shirt were almost rags by now. Her brother had a spare set of shorts and a shirt, that’s all men wore in this paradise. With my fancier plain clothes on, I returned to the stable. Judy and Suhanee, now in sarongs, sat together (of course) with Jappala brushing their hair.

"Jappala, has the pony behaved correctly?" "Yes-master."

"Any wriggling at all?" "No-master. Not that I saw."

"Everything done together, as one pony?" "Yes-master."

"Do you think it should be allowed to go to the party?" "Me? What do I think?" 11 year-olds aren’t usually asked what they think. They are usually on the brink of telling everyone what they think, but getting asked seemed to be as strange here as it is in the outside world.

"Yes, you, Jappala. You are its groom, you have to decide things about it".

"Oh, ah.... Yes, probably. They have been ever so easy to handle, no resistance at all. They are much more docile than my sister said they would be. Well-broken ponies, Master."

"Well, we’ve been working on that. Jappala, you can take its bits out now. And try to remember it isn’t a ‘they’, it is an it, one pony. Pony, are you ready to go to the party as a unit, respond as one, speak as one, and behave demurely?" They were smiling as their bits were removed, eyes sparkling, these parties must be major events. They looked at each other, mouthed some speech, then turned back to me:

"Yes-master. I will stay hooked, not wriggle, and be very quiet. But it will be so hard for me, master!"

"Why is that?" Their answer took a lot of stops and restarts, boiled down it was:

"Half of me really likes parties, dancing, and drinking with the boys. The other half isn’t so active, but still likes to have a good time. I will surprise some of my friends by acting so quiet."

"It will be good training. Remember you are still a pony tonight, and any breach of togetherness will result in you coming straight back to stables and being the recipient of some extra-rigorous posture training. Now Jappala can put flowers in your hair, touch up your faces and nipples, and take you to the party. No strides! Take tiny, dainty steps the whole way as if you had extra-tight hobble straps on. When you are there please don’t stare at me, in spite of your training. Oh, and... enjoy yourself. You have done well today."

I escorted Malua, and even with having to do the eternal male wait for female getting-ready we passed the ponies and Jappala on the way, taking their mincing little 10" steps, saronged hips swaying seductively in unison. Two other girls and a boy had joined them, and were chattering away, asking questions about their experiences and getting short, dual replies.

The party was a big success. Everyone was happy, Joanne looked radiant and pure in a white sarong, her blonde hair done up in a fancy set of braids and coils, much older looking than my groom of the day before. Most of the town seemed to be there, drinking up wine and eating from a trestle laden with fish, fruit and bread. A trio played guitar and bass and a drum, people danced in ways that reminded me strongly of Tahiti, even my girls danced. They were quite a center of attention, linked up, saying little and that in unison, accepting sparing drinks but never using their own hands. They didn’t stare at me, but their eyes strayed in my direction a lot.

At midnight Corbin and Lelani called for attention, speeches were made about Joanne, embarrassing incidents from her past recalled, toasts in her honor drunk, best wishes for her pony career made, and finally her parents announced that as of tomorrow morning she was part of Jim’s team, the OW who had just recently come among us but who was doing well with his training and they expected great things and Joanne would be sure to benefit from such excellent training. This was greeted with polite applause, most of the audience wondering if the parents had gone completely bonkers but having too much fun to bring the matter out. Besides, what team a filly went to was completely in the hands of her parents. Joanne looked at me with something akin to adoration as this was going on, I clearly had an advanced case of teen-age crush on my hands. Well, as long as it lasted it should help with her training.

I decided to take my ponies home early. Their friends were doing too good a job filling them with wine, and much more of it would dissolve their training. Malua came along, maybe to make sure I didn’t climb right into their dual bed with them. Little Jappala promised Joanne would be delivered bright and early, ready for her training. I used the simple expedient of holding Judy’s hand as a leash, and led them slowly off. On the way Malua asked them how they’d enjoyed the party, and was startled at the manner of their reply. She apparently hadn’t noticed during the evening.

"Jim, why are they talking like that?"

"Better to say ‘why is she talking like that’, which should answer your question. I’m training the two parts of my team to act completely as one. Starting tomorrow it will be three parts. They will stay linked together all the time, speak as a trio, and drive and run that way too. It seems to help overcome their excessive individuality."

"What an unusual method. I don’t think anyone else has ever done that. But... Jim, linked as they are, they have to be out of step. When Suhanee puts her left foot forward Judy has to put her right forward - they’re fastened together. And then their right and left. It’s not at all a normal gait, teams are supposed to be in step."

"Yes, and think about a troika. Joanne will have both her legs hooked - her left to Judy’s right, her right to Suhanee’s left. Then Judy and Suhanee will be ‘in’ step, but Joanne opposite. It’s going to take some work to smooth them out."

"Do you think it will pass the judges?"

"Malua, I have no idea. I have to link them to get the uniformity I want, and they just have to learn to pace that way. If they are good enough, in perfect step, I don’t think it should make any difference. Who are the judges, anyway?"

"Corbin’s one. My dad’s another."

"Surely they recuse themselves when a team’s got a relation on it?"

"What’s ‘recuse’ mean?

"An OW term. Means the judge can’t be fair, so they get another judge." I got a long look from Malua.

"The more I hear of the OW the less I want to hear of it. Just because a judge knows someone they can’t render a fair judgment?"

"It’s human nature. You are biased towards someone you know, or in a case of property towards something that will make you money."

"And they let such people be judges? Judges are very respectable people here, ones that the whole town, or island, agrees are fair, have common sense, and can be trusted to make good decisions. The fact that I’m competing, or that you’re a guest of ours, or that Joanne’s on your team and her dad hopes to goodness that she does well - if those things were going to influence a judge’s decision, why, they never would have gotten to be judges in the first place. It’s one of the things we take very seriously here. Becoming a judge is a great honor. How are judges chosen in the OW?"

"Many ways, most of them involving influence, patronage, vote-buying or just simple gullibility. In England we have something called Queen’s Bench, which is more strict in its requirements, but even that has had some really corrupt justices."

"Ugh. Another reason never to go there. Uh, your team is all very pretty prancing with those tiny steps, but we’re going to get home really late this way. Can they take longer strides?"

"Could, but not allowed yet. Still in training. Pony, pace as though you have your twenty-inch hobble chains on." That doubled their speed and we were home a few minutes later. "Malua, I usually put them on my lap to go to sleep. Would you like to join us?" (In my world that would have been a recipe for complete disaster, but this was a different world. I had had just enough wine that taking the risk seemed to be justified by the possible reward.)

"All right, Jim. Since you don’t have a groom I’ll help get them ready for bed." That was just taking them to the privy, we wiped them simultaneously, washed in the stream and then I had to dope out the seating arrangements.

"Malua, maybe you could sit beside me on the left, then the pony’s heads on my lap. Pony lie down. There." I had their heads in my lap, Malua leaning on my shoulder. I put my left arm around her, let my right drift toward those four perky breasts. Island women’s breasts were so firm that they didn’t flatten out a lot when they were horizontal. We lay contentedly, then I cupped Malua in my left hand and reached to Judy with my right. Nobody objected.

"Suhanee is left out. Here." Malua reached across me and took Suhanee’s right breast, jiggled it, said "Nice and firm", and pinched her nipple. I turned and gave Malua a kiss while the pony’s two heads watched, they arched up like kittens demanding more attention. It was most pleasant, for me at any rate. The ponies looked up with a pleading expression.

"You have a question, pony?"

"Please, master, may we use our free hands?" This was new. Of course they had a free hand each, ordinarily both were securely fastened.

"Very well, since you have two hands free tonight. Show me what you want to do with them, and I’ll see." What they wanted to do was put their free hand on the other’s free breast. Now everything was being bobbled except Malua’s right one. Well, she’d have to make do. They still looked pleading.

"Now what?"

"Please master, may we kiss?" Huh? Were my ponies followers of sappho? They seemed happy enough when I was squeezing them.

"Jim, it’s not what you think. As far as I know they are ‘normal’ that way, they like men. But ponies who are this close like to kiss, it’s soothing. Like holding each other’s breasts. Or rubbing, lower down. We don’t have taboos against women doing that to each other."

"Oh. Very well, you may kiss." They turned face to face on my lap, pursed their lips, and touched lightly. Malua and I took the hint, and went at it too. Everyone’s breasts got squeezed. The girls explored their partner’s mouths at leisure, tongues darting in and out. It was hard on me, I couldn’t kiss Malua (great fun) and watch my ponies (very interesting) at the same time so I gave them divided attention. Malua’s left hand found something to do too, working under the pony heads and rubbing a fence-post someone had left lying between my legs.

The girls seemed ready to go at themselves as long as I let them. Their hands had strayed off the other’s breasts and descended to their bare tummies, rubbing there, slowly drifting to the waistbands of their sarongs.

"I think my team can get along without me. Let’s go to the house, Malua." She let go of Suhanee, and me, and got up, I edged out from under their heads and substituted pillows, and we stood arm-in-arm watching. Suhanee and Judy were still properly supine, but their free hands had now descended under their partner’s sarong, and were stroking. They started exchanging little kisses again, and we turned to leave them to their (I hoped) innocent pleasures.

"Did you do that with your team partners?"

"Yes, usually with both at once. The three of us could tie ourselves into the most unusual knots. Our owner liked to watch too." Here a wicked grin. "We used to do it just to excite him."

"Did he, uh... well, you were often tied, helpless, right?"

"Have sex - intercourse - with me? No. Owners rarely if ever do that with ponies. It’s not a taboo, it just leads to complications. He liked to stroke us, and we liked that. That was my second owner."

"How many did you have?"

"Three. For my training it was old Mr. Jackson, then I was traded to Mr. Franz, and my last 6 years were here, on my dad’s team."

"Ah... You, uh, you did things like.... what they were doing.... with your Dad watching? Sorry, Malua, none of my business. It’s just that this pony thing has a sensuous side, and I hadn’t thought to connect it with family activities. Stuffy of me, I know..."

"Oh, Jim you silly. My dad didn’t touch me like that. Not since he changed my diapers, anyway. And it’s not ‘sexy’ between ponies, as much as just soothing. You need to relax after a day of hard pulling or training, and ponies don’t have much opportunity to relax any other way. We don’t do it if we go home, for heaven’s sake. No, my dad didn’t mind me kissing Jacqui and Maggie. Or if he did he never gave a hint. Of course kids don’t understand their parents very well in these matters."

"Well I understand you just fine. Let’s go to your bedroom."

"For a bit. You and I both have to get up early, and it’s late now." For a bit it was, a bit that didn’t include either of us getting reeeely happy.