-A Day At The Races- (Closed)

(OOC, I’d like to thank Tio Narratore for helping me indulge in the sensual beautiful world of the elegant ponygirl.)


Grace’s eyes fluttered open, the unfamiliar sounds of male voices causing her to stir awake. She could see cages with both genders within them all in a line, she gasped a breath as she quickly got to her knees, and realizing she like them was a prisoner, caged like a wild animal, naked and dirty.

She felt her heart pound within her chest, no within her dry throat as she began to panic as she grabbed the bars, kneeling there like an animal on view in a zoo. There was no room for her to stand; she could hardly turn herself around to see where she was at. The building was old, barn like, a huge set of double doors on each end, open, cages being loaded and unloaded with nothing but naked humans.

“Help!, Help!” she screamed, as she gripped the cold steel bars trying to shake it as her long red locks of curls flew left and then right as she tossed her head about.

A loud clang caught her attention as did the vibration of the bars as the steel nightstick hit the bars, “Shut up bitch!” The man growled. Grace quickly turned her head and looked to him; he stood easily 6’4, muscular built, heavy set and he stunk of stale cigars and beer. Grace quickly scampered to a ball in a corner of the small cage.

He stuck his hand in the pocket of his ripped worn jeans; his flannel shirt stank of hay as he stood closer, bending down and peering at her naked lithe dirty body. Grace closed her blue eyes and prayed it was all a dream, the last thing she remembered was heading out the door going jogging, everything after that was blank.

“Number 104! Number 104, you’re up next! A man yelled as grace felt the cage rattle about as the door opened. She watched as the man reached in and felt her hair grabbed as she was yanked from the cage and pulled to her feet. She struggled against the hold, her body fighting the man’s grip upon her , she felt the tension as she cried out when he yanked her head back, arching her hard as she looked directly into his dark hate filled eyes, “Bitch don’t make me beat you,” he snarled.

Before she knew it, another short lanky man was behind her grabbing her wrists and cuffing her tightly as she squirmed and tried to free herself. “Oh she’s a feisty one Bernard! Should get a damn good price for her, the feisty ones bring a hefty amount it seems!” the short man said as he added a collar around her neck, she swallowed and whimpered out.

The chain connected to the ‘O’ ring on the front of the collar as Grace was held there by force, she looked around seeing a crowd gathering, mainly males, few females as well all starring at her as she dropped to the wooden floor. “Fuck you can crawl now you dirty whore,” he yelled at her and tugged the chain, pulling her across the floor.

Grace was yanked to her feet and stood there frozen with all eyes upon her, she looked over the crowd, she then realized where she was, or assumed where she was. She heard about slave auctions, nothing major, she thought they were not real, and all fiction till now. “Red head, shaven, age guessed to be between 30-40 or close to it, around 5’3, tits 36D, shaven clean,” he said as she felt her legs pried open by a pair of hands from behind. “Gentlemen she's fit and feisty! Letting the bidding begin!” he yelled and that was it, Grace collapsed to the floor.

Her eyes flew wide open as she kicked off the wool blanket from her still naked body and sat upright upon the cot like bed and looked around to yet another unfamiliar place. She could smell an array of scents and yet she couldn’t place them, her mind seemed fuzzy, as she felt as if she was in a daze.

Pushing herself to her feet she grabbed the itchy wool blanket and wrapped it around her as she realized that she was in a small dingy room, nothing but a cot and two barred windows, one on each side of the solid wooden door.

The voices she heard were not like those at the auction, yes she remembered being dragged by a chain before all, and then the world went black once again for her. Grace walked to the window and stood on her tip toes trying to look out it, she wasn’t able to see much but she could hear the sounds of hooves not to far away, that sound of clippity-clop, clippity-clop over sand over again and again. “Help me please!” she yelled from the window. “Get me out of here now!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Her throat sore and dry, her stomach hurt from hunger, as she turned and dragged the cot to the window and stood upon it looking out. Grace could see stables across the way, as well as pony carts, a circular race track and a few other items she had no idea what they were. “H-Help me p-please!” she screamed out as she gripped the bars on the window, white knuckling them as her whole body shook as she tried to tug upon them.

(OOC - honored to receive you in the manege, Sinful whispers)


Two men walked towards the door, oblivious to Grace’s cries.

“I’m really surprised you bought that mare, Alister, and at such a price!” said one to the other, “She’s no filly, and heavy of breast and croup. She’ll never be broken to sulky or dressage. And it would take a heavy crop even to break her to the saddle or the cart. I think you’ve let your heart rule your head; I know how you love a flaming mane flashing from a high crest.”

“You’re right about that last part, James,” replied the other, “I find nothing more exciting than riding behind the sight of a full red mane bobbing and flying under a canter or a trot. But as to the rest, that’s your shortcoming; always the heavy crop, the spur. Artificial aids should be used, but carefully and sparingly; it’s natural aids - voice, hands, legs - that are best for breaking. Any ponygirl will always perform better out of love than out of fear.”

“So you say, Alister,” the other retorted, “but few learn with a soft touch. You have to get and keep their attention. Your little stings are no more than stable-flies to a mare or filly, and even less to a colt or stallion; it takes real pain from crop or spur to impress them.”

They reached the door and Alister opened it. His new mare bolted as soon as she saw daylight, but her owner was prepared. He was versed in Western, as well as English, riding, and had his lariat with him. A quick twirl and toss, and the noose pulled tight around the mare’s neck. It jerked her to the ground, but she turned and fought the rope as her master began to pull her in.

James ran to her and laid the crop heavy on her rump. “On your feet, now, bitch,” he barked as he struck her again. She turned as he struck, and his second blow landed not on her rump, but her flank. Angered, he struck again, demanding she stand. She ducked deliberately this time, and the crop stuck up her brisket and across her breast. She fell with the pain of the blow, and James shouted again, “damn you, whore; on your feet this instant!” as he raised the crop.

“Hold, James,” demanded Alister, “I gave you no permission to use your crop on my mare. Leave off, now!”

Alister allowed her time to stand and then finished pulling her in slowly and carefully by the rope.

“She’ll need some grooming,” he said as he stroked her red mane to calm her, “a wash and a brushing, to be sure. A feeding as well. And then to Doctor Carmichael for an examination. I’ll fit her with a martingale for manege tomorrow. I’ll have her broken to the bridle and in stable before the end of the week.”

“You saw how wild and feisty that one is,” James cautioned, “all the redheads are like that. You’ll get nowhere with your gentle touch. Leave her to me, and you’ll see her broken to cart or carriage in no time at all.”

Alister inspected the swollen red welts from James’ crop: “you’ll not touch her without my leave. Your crop’s already drawn some drops of blood from her tit. Such punishment will only teach her to hate.”

He led Grace by the rope to a water station and tied her to a post. He hobbled her by the ankles with a short length of rope, and similarly tied her wrists behind her back. Still stroking her hair, he hosed her down, scrubbing the mud and dirt from her pale , naked skin with a stiff grooming brush. “Just relax,” he whispered, “stay calm, girl. Soon you’ll be clean and then you’ll get fed.”

Grace heard the sounds of male voices, hearing them grow closer and closer as she stood there upon the cot, her chin just above the sill of the window as she clung to the bars with her fists. “H-help me please!, “ she yelled out as the voices grew closer to her, able to hear two calm toned males going back and forth only able to catch a word here or there but nothing that made sense other than what sounded like regular horse talk.

Quickly she released the bars and grabbed the cot as she heard their feet stop at the door to the room she was in, quickly wrapping the wool blanket around her tightly as she stood against the back wall. The door opened allowing the sunlight to shine in upon her blanketed form, and quickly Grace like a charging bull ran for the opened doorway, with half opened eyes due to the rays of the bright morning sun shining into her eyes.

Grabbing the rough blanket in one hand she placed the other before her and tried to push past the two larger men, she struggled as she felt the rope around her neck, her hair flying in every direction as she felt a tug, causing her to fall backwards with a yelp. Quickly she grabbed the rope while laying upon the ground, both hands gripped about it tightly as she felt herself being drug along, her blanket slowly shedding from her body as the noose tightened, feeling the rope burn the soft flesh of her hands as she cried out, screaming and struggling as she began to lose the tug-of-war game between herself and the man on the other end of the rope.

Grace was like a fish out of water caught upon the line being towed along the ground as her small toned frame flopped about. Saliva was seeping from her mouth and down her chin as she whimpered feeling her palms burning as if they were placed over heated coals, she thrashed about, her hair like coming around and covering her sight, not letting up as she felt the sting upon her rounded cheek, and tossed her head back like a spirited wild mare, as she screamed out and tossed her head again as then two men came in sight.

Her breaths jagged as he ordered her to her feet, her eyes went from one to another, and then to his hand, seeing the item that was brought down on her flesh for a second time as her back arched and she let out another piercing cry, that smack hurting far worse than the first as she scrambled to her feet and moved, ducking to the side as the crop came down upon her breast as her back arched hard, and her head tossed around her shoulders as her long curled red locks flew through the air around her head as she went down to the ground again with a whimper as the sting was felt, her flesh reddened by the tool.

Grace sat there upon the ground, her arms holding her upper body up with her legs to the side, her long tress down over her face as she hung her head low, her eyes filled with tears as she tensed her sore body up as she heard him yell to her to stand, calling her a whore as she raised her deep piercing blue eyes looking out from between the fiery strands, her teeth clenched as she tried to regain her composure and pondered head butting the man between his thighs.

Her breasts swayed slightly under her sleek tired body, her nipples hard but not from sexual excitement but more from the adrenalin rush that was going through her small frame. Her body relaxed as she took a deep breath, exhaling out as she took another hearing the other male speak, his voice a softer tone, her head tossed about to the side as the sun blinded her sight, not able to make out either face as he glared back and forth from one to the other from the ground.

Grace slowly moved to her feet, her whole body trembling as she felt the tug around her neck, this time no fight given in return, her body sore from the three smacks to it from the crop. She followed the lead of the rope, her head hung down, her hair around her face as she stopped and listened to them speak, hearing words she only knew related to horses not humans.

It sunk in to grace what their plans were for her, she began to panic, her heart raced as it felt like it was now located in her throat, she tugged lightly upon the rope with her neck, her head flew back as her hair left her face, and finally she was able to see the faces of those who held her captive.

Grace listened, hearing one speak about a redhead, they were known for their wildness and fiery spirit and Grace was no exception, her eyes peered about looking for a way to exit, she stayed quiet, not yelling out as she knew it would do her no good and her throat was already dry and sore, she felt it ache like the marks upon her body that remained behind from the crop.

Standing still as one man walked about her looking to her as the noose remained tight, her head went up high, her body straight as she needed to show them she wasn’t backing down from them, even though she wanted to collapse as her knees felt weak, trying to tuck that fear down within so they wouldn’t see it, not wanting them to think she was afraid. ‘teach her to hate?’ she heard as they talked like she wasn’t even there, no teach was the wrong word, Grace already felt hate inside for both men, and all other’s that brought her to where she was at that place and time.

Grace walked as the lead rope tightened, feeling it tug about her neck as who seemed to be the calm, cool and collected man turn as he held the rope in his hand guide her along with him as she slowly gave in and followed behind like a lost puppy.

She sighed softy as he tied her to a post thinking how humiliating and demeaning this was for her. She stood there erect and proud as she felt him secure her with a rope about her ankle; feeling draw her hands back behind her one then the other and bind them, her back arched her ass out, her red hair blowing in the wind as she felt his fingers move through her tangled mane.

The warm water upon her naked body was a relief as she held her stance, letting him scrub the mud from her flesh with the stiff bristled brush as she bit down upon her bottom lip. Her eyes closed as she felt the warmth of the sun shining down upon her body, her head tossed about slowly as she softly whimpered when he moved over the red welts, listening to him speak, telling her to relax and stay calm. The mention of food caused her stomach to growl; Grace made no movement, her body tensed up as she let out another soft cry feeling the rough bristles move across her marked breast, tasting her own blood from her lip as she stiffened up.

Alister spied a young stable hand while he worked at cleaning her mane, and spoke. “Boy, if you will, some fodder and water for my mare. Bring it to the holding barn.”

As he finished grooming his new mare and began leading her back to her pen, he reflected on Sir James. “His approach is effective and quick, but it only teaches them to behave as proper ponies, it is only superficial. No,” he said to himself, “what I seek is far deeper. Not to train them, but to lead them to discover the pony within themselves.” He thought, then, of what had led him to bid such a high price for this one: he had seen the pony within her as soon as she was brought to the auction floor. And now he had seen it again, even in how she bolted, how she fought, how she calmed.

His thoughts ended as he was hailed by a woman’s voice.

“Hallo to you too, Lady Dawn,” he shouted to a stunning woman, long blonde hair flowing from under her riding hat as she sat astride a side saddle girthed to a powerful young man down on all fours.

“Whoa!,” she said to her mount, reining him in sharply, and then to Alister, “Is she your new mare, Sir? She’s a fine looking piece of flesh.”

“Thank you, Mi’ Lady,” he responded, “your stallion seems to be coming along right smartly. Perhaps we can chat about them both at dinner tonight?”

He reached the barn and led her into her pen, tying her rope to a ring positioned just above a rough wooden shelf affixed to the side wall. She swept some of the straw into a pile in the corner, and spoke reassuringly again to Grace. “I’ll leave you to feed and,”
nodding towards the straw, “to take care of anything else that needs attending.”

He stepped outside as the stable hand arrived, and beckoned him to enter while he himself stayed outside to watch Lady Dawn take her stallion through his paces.

The boy had already been taken by Grace’s beauty when he first saw her, and now, even closer, he became entirely enthralled. He placed her trough of stew and leather bucket of water on the shelf, and stepped back as she bent over to eat, with her wrists still tied behind her back. He stared lustfully at her rear, and his cock grew hard with what he saw. Unable to resist, he dropped his pants and thrust himself into her as she ate, holding her tight by the flanks as he drove his organ in and out of her.

Grace’s eyes closed as she felt him tending to her long tress, feeling the water run down her back as he combed through it. She sighed softly as the sun’s warmth dried her lightly pink tinted skin, she held still for him, her body sore, her stomach grumbling and growling, she feared her mouth would open and her own belly would creep out and swallow her up. On that thought she wandered if that wasn’t sure a bad idea at this point.

She jumped as he spoke catching her off guard as she almost felt the need to bolt as her heart raced again, looking around as she realized who he was speaking to. She was tense, and found it hard to relax again, she never turned her head, and she didn’t wish to see the man who now owned her like a caged animal, not at that time, she couldn’t really see him earlier due to the sun blinding her vision, it may have been a good thing with the anger she felt within. Grace wanted to say ‘screw your mare and feed me asshole,’ but she didn’t she stayed quiet, she didn’t feel like speaking, she didn’t feel like doing anything but finding a way out, she knew it wasn’t a dream, she often wondered what Hell felt like, and now she knew.

The wind blew through her almost dried strands as she stood tall and proud, blow by blow she wasn’t allowing the first man to tear her down. She could hide the pain within, drinking it down like she was swallowing water, feeling it move through her as she closed her eyes and drifted her inner self to a place that calmed her, she sighed softly and opened her eyes as he began to walk away, the lead rope tugging her slightly as she walked behind him, silent steps even her breathing shallow, feeling as if she were dead within, Grace dropped her eyes down looking to the open wound upon her breast, deciding that shall be her reminder to stay hard-nosed, to keep up a fight and to not allow herself to be broken down to a puddle of bones a gruel.

Grace heard a female voice, she not bothered to turn her head as she lowered it instead as he stopped in his tracks, her as well a few steps behind, as she watched him shuffle his feet, shifting his weight from left to right and back as from the corner of her eye Grace could see a shadow cast upon the ground getting closer and closer making grace look up as a the feminine voice called out a ‘whoa’. Her eyes ran down the stud like male, she now realized what all the horse talk was about as she looked to the young male, the attire he wore, as he was fitted as a stallion for her to ride as he was upon all fours.

Her hear thumped within her chest, she knew her small frame would never hold under weight of her new owner, Grace couldn’t but help stare, pondering her sealed fate if she stays there. She couldn’t but help to ponder why anyone would choose to be placed in such a lifestyle, to be allowed to be treated like an animal, made to carry another in such humiliation. Her mind couldn’t handle everything she had taken in since she woke in the first cage dirty and naked; it was too much for her to take in as she tried to once more place herself in a zone, a place where only she could enter within her mind, where no other shall hold a key to this sacred area.

Words she heard brought her back, new mare, piece of flesh, and stallion as she knew it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out they were speaking about her and the young brawn male between her thighs. Once again a word related to food was spoken, her stomach growled loudly, as she swallowed hard, wishing it to settle, as it was already turning hard, and not in a good way.

Another tug as he moved along with her slowly trailing behind as she turned her head and watched as the mal turned and carried the beautiful blonde upon his back, grace’s head turned back around as she was led into a stall of the stable, she looked about and slowly took a few steps backwards taking the slack from the rope as she stopped in the doorway, and felt another tug as she stepped in looking around, her blue eyes wide, not with excitement but fear, fear she would be left there, fear she would end up like that other male, she tossed her head back, her red locks flying within the air as she almost looked like the perfect wild mare, rearing up not wanting to be locked up, caged like a bird. Grace struggled against the binds about her wrists, her head tossed in every direction as she cried out; just for the sake of hearing her own voice once again making sure it was there, making sure she still had her human abilities as she was lost in a world that seemed to strip that from you.

He tied her lead rope to a steel ring near a shelf, she had no choice but to walk forth as the tension was felt, the slack fully gone as she moved closer. Grace looked to the pile of straw and then she listened to him speak, her head turned as if she wasn’t listening to him, ignoring him, or at least appearing to ignore him. She watched him move from the corner of her eye, hearing his feet shuffle upon the thin layer of straw upon the floor of the stall. ‘There was no way’ she thought, ‘none, none what –so-ever, she wasn’t going to reduce herself to using a pile of straw as her bathroom, he could kiss her lily white ass.’

The door opened once again, as she moved towards the corner and turned herself about watching yet another new male walk in, the door closing behind him as she raised a brow looking to his hands, she smelt the scent of food, her belly turning, as she watched a leather bag be placed side it, watching and leaning in as he stepped back seeing the water.

Grace was starving she struggled a few moments about eating and drinking but she told herself she wasn’t giving in, she was eating and drinking to gain strength to be able to fight her way out if necessary. Her body bent at her slender waist as she began to eat the stew, she grubbed it down like a starving street urchin would a stale roll.

Grace wasn’t prepared for what was next to come, she felt her body grabbed by her hips as she reared up tossing her head back nearly choking of the food caught in her throat, her hair flying around the air as she felt herself pierced between her thighs and his cock stabbing within her, as he began to pump his stiff prick into her dry sex.

She fought him, if they wanted a wild mare they got one she thought as she tugged on the rope, her body twisting and turning as she tried to pull from him, her foot coming up from behind as she nailed his balls with her heels, she continued to do it as she felt him loosen up on his hold only to try and gain a hold on her again as she fought him and began to scream out names, names she would never call another till now.

Alister was engrossed in observing Lady Dawn’s handling of her stallion when he heard the commotion within the holding barn. He rushed in and demanded of the stable hand, “what’s going on here, boy?”

“It’s your m-m-mare, S-s-sir,” he answered nervously, “She’d like to have killed m-m-me, if she c-c-ould.”

“I can see why,”countered Alister, “your dropped pants and upright cock seem to tell the story. How dare you mount my mare without permission? You were called to feed her, not fuck her!”

“I-I-I-I...,” the boy stuttered, his eyes downcast.

“Not another word from you, boy,” Alister ordered. “Now, take yourself to Lady Dawn and tell her what you’ve done; she’ll see to you.”

“No, Sir Alister, please,” the hand pleaded, “she’ll redden my cheeks and have her stallion mount me.”

“You were told to hold your tongue, boy,” Alister reminded him, “but that would be a fitting punishment, now, wouldn’t it? Would you prefer I sent you to Sir James? He wouldn’t redden your cheeks, he’d bloody them. And he’d have the whole stable mount you. Take your pick, but go to one or the other right now. I’ll see them at dinner for a report.”

The hand left the barn sobbing.

“And don’t whimper, boy,” Alister said as he left, “you’re over 18, and far too old to cry over what you deserve!”

He turned his attention to the mare now, patting and stroking her withers and back as he spoke softly to calm her. His hand wandered into her long flowing mane as he stroked, and he realized that the lariat’s noose had pulled up tight from her bucking against the stable hand’s assault.

“This will never do,” he reassured her as he loosened it and tied a clove hitch to keep it from sliding again. “Now you finish your feed, and then we’ll go see Dr. Carmichael for your examination.”

...

“Well, well, Alister,” said Dr. Carmichael as they arrived, “this must be your new mare. I’ve heard about already. She looks as good as they’ve said; you’ve always had a fine eye for horseflesh. Just bring her up into the examining stanchion.

Alister led her between two stainless steel fences while Dr. Carmichael began his examination.

He lifted her head by the throat latch first, feeling for the health of her jaw. As he held her there, he pried her lips apart and checked teeth, gums, and tongue. Ears too, and he felt her poll for configuration.

“Tie her lead to the ring, if you would, please,” he asked Sir Alister, and he himself undid her wrist bindings and then tied then again to the rail on either side. Her legs, then, and he secured them to the rail with a loop around each cannon.

He traced her jugular grooves, and then palpated her shoulders and stifles. He found her barrel sound, and her breasts full and firm, though the skin was a bit dry. The same with her flanks and hindquarters.

He paused and spoke to Alister. “She’s in need of some bag balm to soften and smooth her skin; I’ll send my assistant over to do it after dinner.”

Sir Alister responded “No; she’s already been spooked by a strange pair of hands today. I’ll do it myself.” He then told of the stable hands misdeed.

The doctor palpated her abdomen next.

“Her bladder’s quite full and distended, Alister,” Carmichael observed, “either from drugs or nervousness, perhaps both. I’ll get the catheter.”

“I’d prefer not, if it can be put off,” Dr. Carmichael, “I’d like to give her a chance to take care of it herself.”

“As you wish, Alister,” the doctor agreed, “but if she hasn’t by nightfall, you must call me.”

“Thank you,” offered Alister.

Her Master knew what was next, and he patted her muzzle to keep her calm as the doctor donned his latex glove for the internal examinations. And even with a generous coating of jelly, the intrusion still disturbed her.

“Her vagina is none the worse for wear after the boy’s transgression,” Dr. Carmichael stated, “but her anus is a little tight. You’ll want to use the smallest insert for her cockade.”

“She’s in good health and strong, Alister, though a bit on the petite side; she’ll not take to the saddle,” he summed up.

“No saddle for her, doctor,” agreed Alister, “no more than a sulky or light trap. I think she even may have enough grace in her for riderless dressage.”

“And don’t forget the bag balm,” the doctor said as they left for the tack shop, “it’ll also help heal the welts from Sir James’ cropping.”

Grace heard the door fly open with a bang as the handle hit the wall behind it, she was going wild, her whole body thrashed about as she tried to kick the young stable hand as hard as she could and yet maintain her balance. Her saliva seeped from the corners of her dry lips, her long deep red locks flew like thin whips around her head covering her face, then uncovering it as her head snapped the other direction. Her blue eyes no longer held a sparkle, nothing but a darkness as they glazed over, her nostrils flared out as she breathed heavily and stomped her feet against the floor, taking those last few kicks at him causing him to back up, looking to her, she now looked like a wild banshee filled with anger and hate.

She pushed herself back within the corner of her pen, watching the two with an evil eye, struggling against those binds that held her wrists; her body bent slightly forth, enough of a grade to allow her bared heaving breasts to sway back and forth upon her chest as she lowered her eyes and looked to the floor trying to regain her breaths. Grace listened as she was placing names and people together as she to place one piece of the puzzle together at a time.

Her nether lips holding a slight burn from him taking her dry, she blew out a breath and tossed her head back as she watched the young man leave, and then looked to her owner, watching from the corner of her eyes as he stepped towards her as she felt the knot tighten from her recent rumble with the hired help.

Grace pulled away slightly as his hand came towards her, she was ready to fight again if need be. His voice was calm as he spoke to her, his fingers caressed her; she closed her eyes and exhaled slowly as she began to calm down. Grace opened them as she felt his fingers move through her unruly hair, feeling his large calloused hands slide down to her neck and fiddling with the noose, feeling it loosened and then re-knot as the rope rested at the base of her neck, she swallowed and leaned in to feed once again, her eyes watching him as she did, not placing her back towards him like she foolishly did the other. Grace was undetermined if he was friend or foe, he remained in the foe category till her mind was made up, she knew one thing, his touch relaxed her.

Her mind began to turn as he spoke of a doctor, which may be her way out, she was kidnapped and held against her will, somebody would help her she thought, they had to, and she knew she couldn’t live like this, a beast in a pen, she had to be missed by family and friends. Grace had no idea how long she was held captive, everything was a blur to her.

…

Grace stood still as yet another male walked around her naked form, looking her own as she stood quietly, hearing herself described as an animal, she knew that he would not be the one to help her, she could tell that by just listening to the conversation, for now she would stay mute, letting them think she had no words to speak but only screams and whimpers.

The lead rope tugged about her neck as she followed along behind Alister between the two twin steel fences, her head straight, her eyes ahead, open and alert as they scanned her surroundings. Grace made him work for his exam, her lips pursed together tightly as he had to pry them open, she felt his fingers and thumbs moving along her inner lips, and then those digits within her hair as she looked to her ears all the while holding her at the throat, she swallowed as he continued, pondering biting him if his digits went back within her mouth once again.

Her brow went up as her wrists were untied, then a soft sigh escaped her lips as she felt him bind her again as well as her ankles, she didn’t feel like fighting either, she was tired. Grace felt him move his hands upon her, she had never had an exam such as this, and she winced when he touched her breast, pulling back from his hand as she was still tender where the crop was brought down upon her. His touch was nothing like Alister’s, he caused her to tense up when he mentioned another to be sent to her, that would then make four strange men looking over her naked form, and one female, and five counting the ‘stallion’ owned by Lady something-or-other, she couldn’t keep names straight.

Grace listened to the story told about the incident earlier, she was relieved that he offered to be the one to tend to her dried skin, but she could do that herself if left loose, and preferred to if she had her choice, but her choices seemed all to limited now.

She bit her lip when his hands moved along her abdomen, feeling the pressure as she pulled back; sucking her stomach in, the pressure to her bladder caused her inner muscles to tighten as he pushed against it during the exam. Grace caught the word ‘catheter’ and knew it wouldn’t happen, she would hold it till she was able to use a proper bathroom, no matter what everyone around her thought she wasn’t a four legged creature, an animal she was a human being.

Grace pulled forth as she felt the coldness of the jelly as his fingers went within her, the only good thing she thought was the gel soothed the burning from being taken earlier, she held there biting her bottom lip till he was done, she was uncomfortable and it showed especially when he chest her pink star, she reared up and struggled against all the binds holding her.

She eased down when he released her from his latex digits, squeezing her cheeks feeling the gel as she wrinkled her nose and listened, her head cocking slightly as words she had no knowledge of were spoke between them, cockade, sulky, and light trap, these were not familiar to Grace and nor did she open her mouth to ask.

The manager of the tack shop was sitting outside when Alister arrived with his new purchase in tow.

“Hallo, Sally”: he called, “taking advantage of the sun today?”

“To be sure, Alister,” she replied, “it’s far too warm and bright to be indoors more than is necessary.”

Sally was a rather lovely middle-aged woman, a bit over forty, with a petite, but voluptuous figure. Her hair was a rich chestnut, and hung luxuriantly over her shoulders and down to her hips. She was dressed in a plaid kilt and white blouse, stiffly starched, but open to show the cleavage enhanced by a lace push-up.

She continued as Alister stopped before her: “And is that the new mare I’ve heard so much about? Come, let me get a good look at her.”

Sally walked around the woman at the end of the rope, smiling approvingly. She halted back at her face, and brushed the back of her hand over the woman’s cheek. “Yes, Alister, you do have the eye for them. She’s beautiful, and worth every cent, no matter what Sir James says. She’s petite, though, what training do you plan? I’d suggest riderless dressage.”

“Exactly my thoughts, Sally!’ exclaimed Alister, “You wouldn’t mind the competition?”

Sally laughed as she threw her head back and tossed her chestnut hair. “I never shy from the judging, Alister; you know that. But I’m sure she’d give me a run for my money; I saw how naturally graceful she was as you led her here.” She continued, “Have you registered her yet? What is her name?”

“Not yet, Sally,” Alister said, “tomorrow, after I introduce her to the manege. And I haven’t thought of a name yet. She needs one that will reflect her grace.”

“Well,” said Sally, “why not that itself? Grace. That’d be a good name for one so full of grace.”

“That’s what she’ll be called, then,” agreed Alister, “Thank you for the suggestion, Sally.”

“Now, what can I get you for your lovely new girl?” she asked.

“Do you have a light martingale for her, Sally? And a tin of bag balm for her skin,” he said, “I think that’s all for now.”

“Are you sure?” Sally asked.

“Oh, and a blanket. One of those soft new Navaho saddle blankets you’ve just received; it’s likely to get a bit chilly in the holding barn tonight,” he replied, “Thank you for helping me remember.”

“I’ve a nice light harness, Alister, soft and supple Spanish leather,” she said, “I’ll fetch it right away, and I have a Navaho in a color and pattern that will go beautifully with Grace’s pale skin and red hair. The bag balm, too, and, if you’re too busy, I’d be delighted to apply it to that delicious chest.”

Alister laughed, “Thanks for the offer, Sally, but I’d be just as delighted to do it myself, to chest and all else on Grace.” He thought to himself how apt the name seemed, and how easily it came from his lips.

Sally threw her head back again as she turned to go for the supplies, and her body half disappeared in the tossing of her mane. When she returned, she spoke to Alister again.

“You have explained to her, Alister, haven’t you?”

“No, Sally, not yet,” Alister replied in a near whisper, “I think she should have some time to experience things first.”

“Now Alister,” Sally cautioned, “she’s no inexperienced filly; she’s been around enough to have her own mind on things. You’d better respect that if you expect to get anywhere with her training.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Sally,” he said as he gathered up the bundle she had tied for him, “See you tomorrow in the manege.”

He turned towards the barn and tugged on the lariat, “Let’s go, Grace, it’s almost your suppertime.

Grace followed three steps behind her new owner, she walked once again with poised her back slightly arched, her shoulders back and her head straight, eyes front, always wanting to see where she was going but more always looking for a way out. She stopped and stood there looking to the female sitting outside the tack shop, her eyes of blue closed as she felt the warm wind against her body, her long locks blowing within it as she thought about a sandy white beach where she was running along the warm water’s edge, she drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly and then opened her eyes and listened to their conversation.

Her hues of blue moved over the middle-aged woman, she dressed nicely, everything crisp and clean, her pressed shirt a bright white showing a vast amount of cleavage. Her hair was long like a well groomed horse tail or mane, Grace admired it from afar, taking a few more steps following behind Alister, stopping when he stopped as she kept that distance between them.

Grace stood there still not even the slightest flinch as Sally walked around her and caressed her cheek with her hand brushing back the few wandering red strands. Her cheeks flushed slightly as she heard the comment made about her being beautiful, she wanted to politely thank her but she not dare say a word as the conversation continued between them.

Her eyes blinked when the words of training and dressage were heard, listening to them talk about competition, as it was all slowly falling together now. Registered her? Name? Grace’s brow rose, she wasn’t an animal; she was far from some bitch, or a mare as they have been referring to her as.

Her name was Grace; she held back a smile as they talked about naming her that. She was named after the beautiful star of the screen Grace Kelly, her mother’s favorite vintage starlet, that thought made Grace smile and yet feel saddened at the same time.

It bugged her that everyone talked about her as if she wasn’t there, as if she never existed before them, she shuffled her feet, her body weight shifting back and forth, her breasts swayed slowly with her body as she seemed to almost rear up as her head went back, her hair straight out within the wind as she then took her stance once more.

Grace heard what he wanted; she knew what the balm was for, the blanket made her realize there would be no bed for her but a barn with straw upon the floor which didn’t please her in the slightest. She wasn’t thrilled that Sally had offered to apply the balm to her flesh, she still could do it on her own, she wasn’t a child that needed help, like those you hand safety scissors to instead of the real thing. Grace was more relieved that Alister stepped forth and said he would tend to her instead of another stranger.

Grace wondered what she was to have explained to her, what the training was al about. Sally seemed to hint more than anyone so far, leaving her hanging once more, as she sighed and watched Sally’s long hair fly about, as she shifted again standing there with Alister.

Her lead rope yanked, as she felt it around her neck, she stepped in place behind him as they headed back to the barn. He said about food, and grace was still hungry, she hadn’t had the chance to finish up the first time around with the stable hand incident.

Grace stopped and her body arched back, her neck yanked the lead as she became stubborn, as she watched him turn to her. Her voice soft as graceful sounding as the rest of her, “My name is Grace in real.” Her lips glistened as she licked across them, and eyed Alister as she stood tall and proud, her body shivered fully as the wind changed taking a slight chill as it moved across her warm flesh.

Alister turned at the sound of her voice and looked into her deep blue eyes. He saw her pride there, but also saw how it was tempered with fear and confusion, perhaps even a touch of despair.

“This is a different re...” he began to say to her, but never finished.

“Still giving you trouble, I see!” The voice of Sir James interrupted him. “Here, Alister, let me give you a hand.”

Sir James raised his crop high, watching as Grace’s eyes fearfully followed it.

“Hah! See, Alister,” he laughed, “I’ve only used it once on her, but she remembers. It’s the surest way to train these bitches.”

“I still say it’s not my way, James,” Alister responded, “Crop or whip may have their use, but carefully, only to correct, not to overpower. I want my charges to perform because they want to, not because they fear the whip when they don’t.”

Sir James walked around Grace, inspecting her closely, touching her here and there to get a better sense of her flesh.

“Lady Dawn told me about the stable boy. She’s got him in wrist and ankle hobbles to spend the night as stable mate to her new stallion. But I can see why he was tempted, she’s far more attractive than first I thought. Have you mounted her yet, Alister?” Sir James waited for Alister’s reply.

“No, James,” he said somewhat impatiently, “I’d prefer to wait for a sign that she’s receptive.”

“Always the soft one, Alister,” he taunted,” I don’t know how you manage to train any of them at all.”

“I must be off to balm her skin, now,” said Alister, “I’ll see you at dinner.” As Sir James walked away, Alister led Grace back to her room in the holding barn. He no longer spoke to her, and ignored any sounds emanating from her.

Once inside he fixed her lead to the ring and unpacked his purchases. He held the Navaho up against Grace’s pale skin and red mane, and saw that Sally did have a good eye for color; the blanket nicely repeated her shades in a geometric pattern that contrasted favorably with the organic form of Grace’s body. He sized the martingale against her as well. Just as Sally had said, it was light and supple; the leather would be soft on Grace’s flesh. He resolved to try the harness on her after dinner, after she had been massaged with the balm.

The tin of bag balm, now, and he began to apply it first to her abdomen. Her bladder was still distended; it must be emptied, for her own health. He looked to the pile of straw in the corner of her room, and then to her. He realized that she was too proud to use the straw. He untied her, hoping he wouldn’t regret this indulgence, and brought her through the interior door to the holding barn’s central corridor. No one was in sight, so he led her to the stable hand’s toilet beside the main door.

“Be quick, Grace,” he whispered to her, “before someone comes. And don’t expect this too often.”

Grace looked directly into his eyes, she always liked to see within another eyes, it told her a lot about the person they were, just like he was doing to hers. She knew he was slightly analyzing her, all people do, its human behavior when they take time to look past the color and see what was within the person, those windows to the soul and much more.

There was a little warmth within his eyes, and she knew he sensed her fear; she couldn’t keep it that deep down within no matter how hard she tried. Grace listened to him begin to speak, his voice wasn’t deep and mean, it was pleasant to listen to and then he stopped in mid sentence, she hated that, hated when people started then stopped, then she thought she knew why as she heard another familiar male voice come from behind her, she didn’t turn to see who it was.

she arched her back more and her body tensed up quickly when he offered to give Alister a hand, anger shot through her, she wanted to do the same to him as she did to the stable hand, but three times worse if not more, a payback for the marks he placed upon her flesh, the memory of her hate for him and all those keeping her there against her will.

Grace watched the man she despised, she watched as he raised his arm up with his crop in hand, her head never turned but her eyes followed from the corners as her jaw clenched up tightly like the rest of her as she waited for him to bring the crop down upon her flesh again, if that were the case she was ready to retaliate against him at no cost. Grace knew she didn’t have a chance in hell against him, or both men but she knew she could get one good kick in and take him down, and see if he had brass balls like he acts as if he has.

Her body relaxed slightly as Alister spoke up against him and disagreed with the way he did things, she listened and felt even more relief when she understood what he spoke of; he wasn’t one beat her down like James was, which made Grace ecstatic it was he who ‘owned’ her and not James, under him she would have probably hung herself from the pen to avoid the harshness he gave in order to break a human, or worse she would have hung him.

Grace heard that saying so many times over, that as human beings we all had that killer instinct within us, she disagreed whole-heartedly till she met James. It took meeting him briefly to change her mind so quickly after all the years she thought that she was in capable of such a thing, and now understood how one could commit such a crime.

His touches to her flesh made her skin crawl, she wanted to back away but didn’t because of Alister; she didn’t wish to seem unruly before James. Grace had pride and she wanted it to be known, and he stopped James from harming her again, the least she could do was not act up, and give Alister a sense of pride in owning her.

Grace heard his comment about not knowing how Alister managed to train as she placed her feet went together tightly, she felt her inner ankle bones touch, her back arched as she pressed her chest out before her and her ass out behind. Her head tossed about so all her hair was mainly cascading down her back like a fiery mane as she held it straight and looked forth towards Alister, and held there like a statue as her hair blew within the cool wind.

The lead rope tugged about her neck as she walked behind him quietly. He didn’t speak another word and she didn’t either. She gave him no trouble entering the barn; she willingly went without a tug as she watched him tie her back up once again. She watched in silence as he unpacked the purchases, she cocked her head a bit as she eyed the blanket against her skin and hair, she thought it went quite well, she watched as he pulled the leather martingale out and held it to her, she seen those before, those were to train and used to control the head carriage of the horse, her brow went up but she said nothing.

Her head turned as she opened the tin, she knew what was next, she felt his hand and the balm against her abdomen as she fought to pull back as any sort of pressure caused her a slight pain, Grace swallowed hard and closed her eyes hoping he would be quick in that area.

Her eyes of blue opened as she felt him move, she watched as he untied the rope and led her into another area of the barn and walked her a short ways and spoke to her calmly as she nodded and quick went in to take care of her business, as she felt a sigh of relief. Grace exited and smiled slightly to him, “thank you,” she said in a soft whispery voice and walked back to her holding pen and stood for him to re-tie her once again. Grace didn’t expect anything, it was easier that way and you don’t get hurt having one’s hopes up high.

He spoke to her again once they returned to her room. “I think you’re clever enough to have figured most of this out, but I’ll go over it to keep it all together.”

“You were captured and brought to a slave auction, a place where men and women are sold to the highest bidder for whatever purposes the buyer wants. Some end up as prostitutes, some as sex toys, some are even used for hunting, and some, like yourself, end up at a pony farm. Here we train our purchases as horses, to be ridden, pull carts, race, jump, or show. I bought you to train as a show horse.”

“The moment you came up on the auction block I saw a glimpse of your grace, and I felt you could excel at show, that you could execute the necessary moves with style and technical perfection. I also thought - do think - that you are beautiful: a fine face with high cheeks, deep penetratingly blue eyes, luxuriant mane - sorry - hair, long neck, silken smooth skin, full breasts and hips, elegant legs. “ As he spoke, he ran the back of his hand over her cheeks, down her throat and across her breast, lightly brushing her nipple. “And I think you have a good attitude for it, proud and a bit independent. By the way, I was quite pleased with how you handled yourself when you met Sir James for the second time; you clearly showed him that you had neither need nor terror of his crop in order to behave well. Thank you.”

“Now, you’ll be spoken of and treated as if you were a pony - I’m sure you’ve noticed that - but not all the time. In the paddock, you’ll always be my mare, and in your stall as well, when I need to treat you as a pony. At other times you can be a person, and, when you move to the stable, you’ll have your own stall. It is more a room than a stall, with a proper bed, chair, and toilet; you will find it comfortable. You’ll move there after you’re broken to the bit. You already know I prefer voice and touch to pain for training, but I will use the crop and the whip judiciously to correct and direct you.”

“I’ll resume applying your balm, now, and you’ll resume being a pony. If you have any questions, hold them until I return after dinner. And don’t worry, no other stablehand will try what that one did today.”

Alister took the tin of balm and spread a handful over her abdomen. From there he smoothed it first up her brisket, massaging it in broad circles. On to her breasts, then, spreading it over each breast and then kneading it in with his fingers, being particularly gentle at the welt from James’ crop. Her nipples received special attention, some more bag balm and soft rolling between his thumb and forefinger. Back down to her abdomen, and onto her flank, the same broad circles as for her brisket. He massaged the balm over her pubes with the heel of his hand, pressing firmly as he stroked over her mound. Then broad circles again, over her buttocks, and back to her pubes, the labia this time. He smoother the ointment over them, and then spread them to soften the tissue of her furrow. As he finished, he found himself growing tumescent and thought, “Yes, it is hard not to think of mounting a mare as beautiful as Grace. But only when she shows she’s receptive will I consider it.”

He called for her dinner, and escorted the stable boy out when she had been served. As he left, he patted her sides and quietly said “I’ll be back soon, Grace.”

Grace turned and looked to him in the eye, she listened to him speak, she nodded in a yes fashion as he made the remark of her being cleaver enough to have figured out most of what was happening to her, “yes, I think I have the general idea.” She said in a soft airy voice, and then quieted down so he could explain more to her.

In the long run grace knew she made out better than a few of those she saw around her in cages, in worse condition than her. She realized she was better off where she was with Alister than to be placed as a sex toy or prey of even to sell her ass, she sighed softly and listened.

A smile moved over her face as she listened to him speak of her when she was brought up to the auction block, she remembered fighting all the way, she wanted to chuckle for the first time since she’d been there. It was instinct that made her nuzzle to the back of his hand as he caressed her cheek, her head went up as he moved his hand along her throat, her eyes closed as he caressed her breast lightly, and re-opened when he moved across her nipple as she gasped a breath quickly and exhaled slowly and then swallowed hard as she could but help to give off a soft giggle when he spoke about the second meeting with James, she whispered out to him ever so softly, “You’re welcome Sir.”

Being raised as a military brat, as well as a southern belle she used the words Sir and Ma’am on a regular basis, at least to those who deserved the respect of those titles, and she felt Alister did, plus he soothed her with his warm soft touches, making her in an odd way feel safe with him, in a fucked up sense she semi knew now what it felt like to be a domestic ‘pet’, how it feels to have that petting, or to have one’s fur brushed, just the attention in general. She thought back over the years and was so glad she never mistreated a dog or cat she owned, for at that moment as he ‘petted’ her she felt his emotions towards her and it warmed her within.

Her head nodded and she released a few ‘yes Sir’s’ as he spoke, letting him know she was paying attention to him, Grace had a feeling she was not going anywhere soon, she thought it be best for now to just tell herself she was his now, everything stripped from her from this point on. Her head rose as he spoke of her own area, a regular toilet and chair and a bed, she missed a bed, a shower, a bubble bath. She caught the broken part, the bit and then the crop, which she planned on not feeling ever gain if she could help it but Grace knew she had her moments, she dropped her eyes as she looked to her mark that James left, if there was one thing she vowed she would prove to him what she could be, pride was now her drive force.

Grace did have questions, but she didn’t mind holding back on them till later, that would give her enough time to think of more, she was a curious one from the day she was born, always needing to know it all, not like what one would call a ‘know-it-all’ but grace just was very curious, she had a thirst for knowledge, a brain that was like a sponge, very absorbent.

The thought of another stable hand entering her little domain was not advisable least in her mind since the earlier incident, and Grace would be prepared if there was another, this time her backside wouldn’t be exposed to him.

His hand wasn’t the softest he’d ever felt but still felt nice as he moved it along her abdomen again feeling him move to her chest, her eyes of ocean blue closed as he moved his hand over her breasts, she sighed out blowing a warm breath to the chilled air.

The moan from her lips was soft and wispy as she released it feeling his hand kneading her fleshy globes upon her chest, her eyes slightly opened when he neared that welt, as she felt his touch become lighter as his fingertips moved around it as well as over, she closed her eyes again and just enjoyed his attention.

Grace whimpered to each roll of her pert nipples between his fingers and thumb, feeling them grow stiff to his touch, part of her was embarrassed, the other part slightly excited, she bit her lower lip and muffled the soft whimpers as she felt relieved when he moved back down to her abdomen once again.

The balm was slightly cool when he applied more to his fingers and moved down to her hips feeling the circular motion his hand took, feeling him slide down between her legs causing her to jump slightly as she tried not to turn her head and look to him, her breaths began stronger…deeper as his hand moved between her thighs feeling that slightly pubed area, her nose wrinkled as she hated the feel of returning pubic hair, least on herself.

Her breasts rose and fell faster as he touched her intimately, it wasn’t easy for her to have a stranger her touch her in places very few have, as she tried hard to block it from her mind and focus on that ‘special place’ her mind seemed to go to a lot lately, but when he touched her semi puffed petals grace blushed a full crimson red as she knew she was moist from the caress to her breasts and the roll of her nipples. Her head turned and lowered as she swallowed hard trying to not enjoy it to not move her hips against his hand, the relief felt when he stopped.

Grace watched as the stable hand entered, she back up into her corner and watch as he placed the trough of food on the shelf and the leather bag of water, she held her breath till she watched him walk out, then the pat to her side as he assured her he’d return later.

She watched Alister go, hearing the door close and hitch behind him as she turned and filled her belly on the stew, lapping the water as she filled her hunger and thirst, and then looked over to the pile of straw and sighed as she went over and used the wall and her hands against it as she crouched down and peed on the straw feeling the humiliation it brought her, she wrinkled her nose and walked to the other corner and crouched down and then curled up into a tight ball as she closed her eyes and relaxed letting his words run through her mind over and over till she fell sleep.

Alister returned to her room after dinner and found her already asleep. “She has had a trying day,” he thought to himself; “If she has any questions, I guess they’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

He saw, too, that she was cold as she huddled in the corner. He picked her up gently so as not to wake her, and laid her down on the cot. Her new blanket, a thick, warm Navajo, still hung on a hook; he took it and covered her with it. As he prepared to leave, he noticed her straw was used, and so he replaced that before he left.

He arrived just after sun up, dressed for training. His khaki jodhpurs were tucked smartly into his brown leather riding boots and his khaki poplin shirt was neatly tucked into his slacks. He would be training today, so he decided to forego a riding cap. And for training he chose a short dressage whip, concerned that Grace might shy from a crop after yesterday’s run-in with Sir James.

Her breakfast came just as he did, and he took it from the stable hand to deliver it himself.

“Good morning, Grace,” he said as he placed her food and drink on the shelf; “I’ll leave you to your breakfast and toilet, and be back when you’re done.” He had noted the stubble on her pubes the night before, and thought she might find it uncomfortable; he left a disposable razor and a tube of cream on the shelf for her to use. “Better to let her see to her own grooming a bit until she’s used to others grooming her in such places,” he thought.

He allowed about an hour for her, and then returned, fastening the lead rope around her neck again, and pressing his finger to her lips to remind her not to talk. He took the martingale down from its hook and led her to the manege.

“Haloo, Alister!” rang a voice from the training stable, “Is that your new mare? My clerk told me about her last night.”

“And a good morning to you, as well, Charles,” Alister replied, “Yes, indeed she is. Her name is Grace, and it was your clerk who suggested it.”

“A fine looking specimen she is, Alister, “ Charles continued, “such a fiery mane and fair flesh; are you breaking her today?”

“To the bridle, Charles,” Alister responded; “I’ve a fine and delicate martingale for her from your shop.”

Alister glanced behind Charles and saw Sally. She was outfitted in a full harness, supple leather drawn snugly and buckled from front to back. She stood straight and tall, her chestnut hair flowing over the leather and steel on her back and her breasts rising prominently from her chest, straining at the leather harness strap that ran across them. A tall feather plume stood atop her head, affixed to the bridle that enclosed her face, and a full tail of real horse hair stood sharply up her back, held in place by an insert in her anus. She smiled slightly and winked at Grace when the men weren’t looking.

“Full dress for Sally today?” asked Alister, “She does look marvelous!”

“Yes, a bit of dress rehearsal for this weekend’s show up north,” Charles explained, “I hope to capture the blue ribbon there.”

“Well then, good luck to you,” Alister offered, “and with Sally, I’m sure you’re well up in the running for first place.”

He led Grace to a training stanchion and tied her neck rope to the central post. He knew it would be difficult putting the martingale on for the first time; no matter how cooperative, a horse would always bolt and fight at having a harness over its face. He spoke soothingly to Grace as he slipped the leather over her head, but still she jerked back and to the side to avoid it. He reassured her as he tried again, but Grace jerked yet again. Alister gave her a sharp switch to the flank with the dressage whip, strong enough to sting but not cause undue pain. He spoke softly again, and brought the martingale once more to her head.

Grace woke in the middle of the night, she quickly sat up and took a deep breath and looked around in the darkness. The moon shined down just enough to allow her to see where she was, remembering she wasn’t in her own bed.

Looking around she found herself on the cot with the new blanket over her, though it was pooled around her waist and covered her feet she wasn’t sure how she got placed on the cot and figured it was either a stable hand or her ‘owner’ Alister. Grace looked to the new fresh pile of straw in the corner and sighed as she felt the need to use it but just couldn’t, instead she laid down and just looked out the bared window at the moon wishing she was as far away from there as the distance was to the moon.

Her slender long toned legs slipped out from under the blanket as she removed it from her lap and walked over and squatted upon the straw and did her business and then wrinkled her nose as she grabbed a handful to wipe herself with as she felt a twinge of humiliation move through her even thought there was no other around to see her, to watch her.

Grace shivered as a chill moved through her spine, goosebumps appeared upon her flesh as she stood there letting the light from the moon shine down upon her naked body. She was more awake than tired now, the cold night’s air had a nasty little bite to it as she reached over to the cot and pulled the Navaho blanket to her and wrapped it around her tucking it in between her breasts as it dangled over her toes, wiggling them she giggled softly as the edge tickled lightly across the top of her foot.

She had no idea what to do with herself, she was tired of sitting, laying, standing, she was at the point she was just tired of being tired and bored. Grace needed to find a way to entertain herself or she was going to go stir crazy, she hated the feeling of being locked in the small area, the way the walls felt around her growing smaller and tighter as if it was shrinking and she to would shrink with it, maybe to the point of non-existence. Grace pondered that thought for a few minutes and wondered if it was a bad thought to begin with.

Grace unwrapped herself from the heavy blanket feeling the cold against the flesh of her lithe form and then placed it neatly upon the cot folding the top down as if she were making her bed at home. She moved to the shelf and stood facing it, placing her fingers upon the top and her thumbs underneath against the underside and moved into a Grand Plie position; she took a deep breath and used the shelf as a ballet’s barre, from that position she moved into an Eleve, a battenment Tendu and continued to go through all the steps she knew and felt the warmth in her body as she moved slowly and with grace.

In her head she can hear the soft music play as she whispered out to the night telling mother Moon her story, narrating out loud as she danced around the small stall, “A sleek feminine form sweeps lightly across the stage, gracefully arching her arms and neck, with effortless poise and her body moves in synch, every bit of her being fine tuned as her hair flows behind her…”

Everything around her was no longer in her mind, she was on a small stage once again, she smiled and twirled, she leaped around moving like a young beautiful gazelle as she ended her little performance in first arabesque position and giggled as she placed her feet together and curtsied.

Grace rubbed her chest as she breathed hard and deep, she winced when her hand moved over the mark left by Sir James, bringing her back to reality as she slowly moved under the thick blanket and covered herself fully in hopes she’d disappear and allowed sleep to engulf her once again.

Hearing the click of the door Grace woke and sat up upon the cot with the blanket wrapped around her. She waited to see who was entering the stall as she pulled the blanket up tight against her, holding it under her chin as she watched Alister walk in dressed to ride. Grace felt relief, if it were any other than him she felt her body tense up. Her eyes ran over him starting at his brown leather booths to his crisp pressed khaki jodhpurs to the matching khaki pressed shirt.

Her voice soft as she spoke, not sure if she was allowed to or not she thought it only be polite of she responded a greeting back, “Good morning…”, she had no idea how to even address him. “Thank you,” she replied as he placed her breakfast down and watched him go closing the door behind her.

She moved over and began to eat, lapping at the water to wash to food down as she eyed the razor and the tube as she smiled, and took them both and the extra water within the leather bag and cleaned herself up, every now and then washing away the bits of cream with her hand making sure she left not a hair upon her mound. Grace always loved the smooth feeling between her thigh after being freshly waxed, to her it was arousing as she moved her fingers against her freshly shaven area.

She hated body hair anywhere on her body other than her eyebrows and head. Grace cleaned herself up feeling the cool morning breeze against the slightly wet flesh between her thighs as it caused a shiver within her. She moved and stood in the warm morning sun as it shined through the window, closing her eyes as she heard the click once again of the door and watched Alister return.

Grace felt the lead rope fastened around her neck once again, she gave him no problems as he did it. She felt his finger press to her soft lips and knew she was not to speak until told. Her eyes shifted as he reached for the martingale and held it within his thick fingers as he led her from her stall.

Following two steps behind her owner grace welcomed the warm sun upon her as they stopped while he spoke with another. She listened as they spoke about her; she moved her head to the side and looked around the shop owner to Sally in amazement. Sally looked absolutely beautiful in full dress, grace ran her eyes over every inch of the female she could see and smiled to her as she stood there statuesque and so very proud and filled with pride.

A twinge of excitement was felt between Grace’s thighs as she admired her, she looked genuinely happy which to grace she had a hard time understanding, this was a whole new world to her, and up till the point of seeing Sally, it didn’t make sense and now it does. Her hair blew within the breeze, the feathery plume adding to the rich color.

Grace caught the slight smile and the wink tossed to her from Sally when the men were busy speaking between each other as grace returned another smile back and just eyed her up, following the lines of the harness, the tail was another thing Grace thought as she tried to see where it was attached and when she did she clenched that back pink star for a few minutes.

The lead tugged her neck lightly as she walked past Sally and her owner, turning her head as she quickly glanced over her again, then turned about and followed quietly till he stopped and tied her lead to a post. Glancing around she saw his hand raise up and the martingale within his hands as he tried to place it over her head as she jerked her body back feeling the lead tug about the back of her neck.

Grace watched as he tried a second time watching the leather harness come closer as her head jerked from side to side, she hated anything placed over her head, especially a hood or a mask as both made her hyperventilate. Out of the blue Grace felt the sting to her flesh as he whipped her once; she looked ahead and stood there still for him not wanting a repeat of the Sir James incident.

In an odd way she liked Alister even though he held her captive against her will, he treated her well, which caused confliction within. Grace looked to him as the felt the harness brush over her hair as he began to place it on her, listening to his voice; he spoke softly to her, calming her, a mind game to have one do as the other wished.

Alister was pleased that Grace calmed so readily and with so little punishment; he preferred to avoid the whip whenever possible, and use it only mildly when it was needed. Not that there hadn’t been fillies and mares who felt a heavier hand from him, and some seemed to have even liked it, deliberately pushing him to use it again and again. He always was content when they were bought by a new owner.

“Easy now, girl,” he said as he brought the bit to her mouth. Unbroken mounts rejected this even more than they did the head rig, but it was necessary for direction and control. He squeezed her cheeks to get her to open for the bit, and he found himself distracted. He liked the touch of her, her flesh soft and yielding to his grip, and her lips were the most beautiful and enticing he’d ever seen. He paused a moment, realizing that his organ was swelling against his jodhpurs, to get his mind focused on the task at hand.

As expected, Grace fought against the bit, but Alister resolved not to use the whip save as a last resort. He spoke calmly, almost whispering to her, as he kept a tight hold of her cheeks. As she turned from side to side to avoid the bit, he pressed his body firmly against hers to calm her and keep her in place. He barely succeeded in holding his attention on the bit as he felt the smoothness and warmth of her skin against him, particularly as he wrapped his leg around hers to hold her steady, drawing her leg between his with the hard brown leather of his boot. A firmer squeeze on her cheeks, then, and the bit was in place.

He released her, now, and took hold of the reins to guide her, just a little ways, and very gently, to help her adjust. Back to the stanchion, then, and the training post. He fixed her reins to the training arm and adjusted its height to keep her head up at just the right angle. Her head couldn’t turn, but he saw her eyes darting from one side to the other. He might have used blinders, as so many other trainers did, but he preferred his mounts learned to look straight ahead. He stood directly in front of her, a hand on either cheek, and raised one hand or the other, as he softly said “no, girl,” to block her view to whichever side she glanced. Soon she was only looking straight at her owner.

It was time to begin walking, and he took a few steps backwards, tapping her lightly on the flanks with the dressage whip to encourage her to walk towards him. She did, and he continued, walking her in a circle around the center post to which the training arm was attached. Twice around, and he saw that her forelegs were swinging with each step. That would never do for dressage, so he fetched a training belt. He gird the leather strap around her waist and then fixed a loop around each limb just above the elbow, holding it tight against her side. Again he spoke softly to reassure her as she briefly struggled against the bonds, and then resumed the walk, encouraging her once more with taps of the whip. He continued for nearly an hour, stopping only after he was satisfied that her gait was smooth and even in distance and tempo.

“Good work, Grace!” he said enthusiastically as he removed her reins from the arm, “I think that’s enough for this day, and, at this rate, I should probably book a stall for you in the main stable as soon as possible.” He removed the restraint from her waist as well.

Charles approached them, leading Sally by her reins, and said “very good work, Alister; I’m impressed with how quickly you’ve taught her.”

“Thank you, Charles,” he replied, “but I was only a small part of it; it is less my training and more Grace’s learning that you see here.”

Charles noticed the still-swollen welts from Sir James’ crop, and suggested that Alister should see to them again with the balm.

“You are right, Charles,” he agreed; “I should have done that this morning. I’ll get right to it.”

Alister took his leave and led Grace back to her room in the holding barn. Once there, her tied her reins to the wall and got the tin of bag balm. He laid a good handful on her breasts and began to massage them, kneading them in broad circles and then narrowing to her nipples. Again he was distracted by a flood of aroused blood between his legs. He continued his ministrations in spite of it, and found his penis pressing even tighter against his slacks as he smoothed the balm over her belly and flanks. He pressed the balm in firmly over her mound with the heel of his hand while his fingers gently spread it over her labia. Between her lips, again, and his fingers lingered there far longer than was necessary, smoothing balm up her furrow to the little pearl hidden deep within her folds. His mind, and body, was filled with thoughts and feelings of her, and he had to bring himself up short to stop his treatment. “Not until she shows me she’d like it,” he reminded himself.

He untied her and removed the bit and martingale.

“I’m sorry about that, Grace,” he said, blushing slightly and trying to will his bulge to go down, “I guess my mind was wandering.”

“Now,” he said, changing the subject, “do you have any questions?”

Grace watched as he brought the bit close to her mouth, listening to his voice, soft yet stern as he spoke. She felt his strong hand to her face, his fingers on one side and his thumb on the other as he tried to get her mouth to open. The squeeze felt as the inner soft flesh of her cheeks pressed against her teeth as she clenched them shut and locked her jaws tightly as she felt her soft full lips pucker up from his grip.

He stopped as she took that time to shake her head trying to loosen his grip but that didn’t work, he spoke to her in a soft voice yet again as she struggled against the hold of her jaws feeling his fingertips and thumb move along her teeth as she tried to pull back and toss her head but he clenched tightly as he tried to calm her, she fought trying to keep her lips pressed together tightly, trying to keep her jaws locked but was losing the battle fast as his hand moved with her head as she tossed it about again and again.

His body pressed against hers as Grace tossed her head back feeling his leg move around her wrapping it so she stayed in place before him to hold her steady as she squeezed her cheeks harder, her mouth opening as she felt the bit placed within her mouth as she softly whimpered out. Grace gave the fight up once she realized she lost, she held there for him as she felt his legs squeeze hers even tighter as she began to adjust the bit, she also felt the arousal Alister hard as he kept her close him trying not to allow herself to feel the same in return.

His hand loosened up as he drew it back from her face and took hold of the reigns he moved her along slowly as she wanted to rear her head back and tug the leather straps from his hand yet didn’t, instead she walked behind him letting her lead as she placed herself in the space within her mind, letting it calm her, relax her, to keep her sane.

Grace followed as Alister guided her; she walked like she normally would, she watched as he eyed her up with each step she took from the training post to the stanchion and back to the post once again and stopped as he fixed her arms to the training arm stopping all movement of her head as she tried testing her limits with him. This wasn’t appealing to her, she hated not being able to turn her head though she remembered what she was taught in her many years of dance as she looked left and then right and then ahead trying to see what was around her, how was she to know there wouldn’t be a cop or a whip raised against her before she had a chance to see or another trying to bang her from behind before she even knew they were there.

Alister stepped before her, she felt a hand placed on both of her cheeks; she moved her eyes with either of his hands, as he moved one up and then the other dropping the first. His voice caught her attention as she figured it out when he told her no, like a puppy that peed upon the floor, as she waited for her nose to be smacked with a rolled newspaper. More likely a crop or a whip to her rear breasts or flank. Grace looked straight to Alister, her eyes locked within his own; she didn’t blink or flinch once as she tested her again, she closed out everything around her but him, standing before her.


His feet stepped back as she watched him, she felt the taps to her upper thighs and stepped forth towards him and as she did he continued to walk backwards watching her every move once again. They circled the post twice walking around in a circle, one that was already set up and worn by those before her. Once stopped she watched him leave her, grace felt slight panic as she couldn’t turn her head to see around her, her eyes closed as she cringed hearing Sir James’s voice in her head, ‘damn you, whore; on your feet this instant!’ She opened her eyes and lowered them as she awaited Alister to return, once she did she lifted them looking to him as she had another leather piece to place on her again.

Grace struggled against the next piece he tried to place on her; she felt the leather around her waist, then her then a loop around each arm right up above her elbow as she struggled even more. Grace wasn’t used to not being able to move freely, she felt the dressing whip twice again as she struggled her way the first time around the post. He didn’t whip her to mark her, she knew that, she knew exactly what he was doing she was just more confused and unsure of herself than anything. It seemed like forever till he was done with her, she stopped with him as she heard the praise, hearing the excitement within his voice which made her feel a bit between within, giving her a touch of confidence.

The thought of being in the main barn meant more room and more privacy and even a normal bathroom, which alone was worth any training he would give her. Grace heard footsteps as she turned slightly, her backend went towards the training arm as she watched Charles and Sally walk towards them, as she listened to the conversation between them.

Grace struggled to see Sally once again, her head still as she twisted her body around seeing Sally being lead by the reigns. She was so calm, it just mystified Grace how one could enjoy being treated as such, she thought Sally was beautiful when all dressed up for show. She would have smiled to Sally but the bit was tight within her mouth pulling back as she felt a slight bit of drool upon her chin and the corners of her mouth.

The tug felt as she followed behind him, walking tall and proud, her shoulders back and breasts out, her elbows tucked close to her body as he led her back to her room, she walking in easily and watched as he tied her up to the ring once more.

Grace heard the tin pop open, she felt the cool balm placed upon her breasts by his fingers and held there while he smoothed it out upon her flesh. She felt the way his fingers and thumbs moved in such a fashion that he was kneading her once more, her nipple hardened against his palm as she closed her eyes and swallowed hard, she felt him slowly make his way around both taunt nubs, she squeezed her inner muscles feeling the arousal he brought to her, her breaths changed as she drew them in quicker and released faster.

Standing still as his hands moved over her belly and downwards, she didn’t move a muscle as she enjoyed the feeling he was giving her, it was like a needed massage, and for a brief time she forgot why she was there as she closed her eyes and just let his hands be felt in her mind, her soft moans released when he moved from her abdomen and down between her thighs feeling his fingers move together as he slid them back and forth over her shaven mound, her hips bucked slightly as she whimpered out.

Grace’s face flushed when she caught herself move against his fingers as he smoothed over her nether lips, feeling her heat as the moistness formed upon her slightly puffed petals, causing her to gasp a breath and exhale slowly as her body tensed up.

He stopped just as her knees weakened slightly; she struggled as he took the martingale from her head, as she looked to him in the eyes for a brief moment.

His face flushed a light shade of red, she was sure it matched her own as he apologized, she wanted to tell him there was no need, she wanted him to know she appreciated what he was doing to her, the way he took care her the way he made her felt, yet it was all so confusing, to enjoy a touch from one that holds her against her will just baffled her.

“What happens to me from here? Will I ever be released? What do I call you? Can I speak to others like Sally ever? Why would you ….” She sighed as she began to ask questions just spitting them out quickly, rambling on.

"It's just all so much, I don't think the shock has wore off, and I don't understand things, and there's a small part of me that, that...I saw how proud Sally stood and how beautiful she looked and I don't understand why one would wish to be treated as such."

“So many questions,” he said as the blush faded from his face and he thought of the answers, “I won’t be able to answer them fully all at once, but I’ll tell as much as I can.”

He led her to the cot and sat next to her. “I own you, and I intend to finish training you for dressage. From there, competitions and recreation, here and at other ranches, much as Charles has done with Sally. Beyond that depends on what develops and what happens, but release is not at all likely.”

“As to what you may call me,” he continued, “it remains that you are to be speechless while a pony. At times like this you may call me ‘Sir’ or ‘Sir Alister.’ And there will be times when you can speak to other ‘ponies’ such as Sally; you may visit each other when in the regular stables. We also take along a companion pony when we go to a competition; I’ll see if Charles has chosen a companion for Sally yet; while it is early in your training, I will bring you with Sally if her Master is amenable.”

“Your last question is the most complex of them,” Alister said; “there are many reasons one wishes to be a pony, and you have already noted one - the beauty and elegance of it. There are many people who desire to yield themselves to another’s training, even if unwillingly captured and auctioned. Some for the power it brings them, the power they exercise over those to whom they grant control; others for the sense of freedom they gain by ceding themselves to another. And there are myriad more reasons for accepting or seeking submission.”

“But there is a second part to the answer,” he concluded, “and that concerns why people choose a particular form of submission. For the ponies, many are attracted by the elegance and beauty that you have already noted. Some fall into it by accident, and would find any form of submission comfortable. Yet others are driven into it by fear, falling into the hands of a Sir James to be beaten into a pony. But there are also those who have a spirit inside them, a spirit akin to a horse. You can see it in the way they walk; their gait is a strut or a gallop or a trot; in the way they toss their heads from side to side, their tresses billowing like a mane; in the way they watch, eyes darting left and right, head only turning when something catches their attention; the way they almost nuzzle people they are fond of. Those are the people I look for, and I see my training as a way of letting them realize the spirit they have within themselves.”

He looked into Grace’s eyes again, as he had when leading her at the stanchion, and saw the same confusion and the same depth of feeling as he had then. The back of his hand brushed over her cheek as he said, “And when I saw you at the auction, for that brief moment of consciousness, I saw not only your beauty, but your spirit, proud, independent, yet graceful and yielding. I knew I had to have you at any price; you were to be sold no matter what, and I could not forgive myself if one such as you fell into hands such as Sir James’.”

“It will be dinner soon, for both you and me,” he said to her. “What more can I do before I tie you for your feed?,” he asked, his hand still on her cheek and his eyes on her graceful form.

Grace smiled as she heard him make a comment about her asking so many questions. “Would be appreciated with any answers you can give me.” Grace softly spoke as she felt him undo the reigns from the ring and walk her over to the cot where she settled and watched as Alister did aside her.

Sitting quietly she looked to him as he began to answer her questions, her mind absorbing it all like a sponge, as she knew she would have more when he was finished. The fact that she would be able to speak to other’s eased her more, knowing what answers she was not satisfied with from him she could possibly get from others alike her.

Grace like the sound of ‘Sir Alister’ better than just plain Sir. She was coming to realize that he did truly own her and she was in safe hands with him verses others from what she’d seen. “Sir Alister is what I’d prefer to address you as, it has a nice ring to it and since you made it clear that I’m going nowhere, I fee; secure in calling you that.”

“I would like it if that would be arranged if possible, not that what I say matters, but Sally seems to be friendly.” Grace spoke while he took a breath and in her own way she was trying to reassure him that she was growing a bit used to what was happening around her.

The words flowed from his lips as he started to answer the last main question she had asked. Grace listened intently, she could understand the part of the beauty and elegance, when it came to the dominate and submissive part she needed to think about hat, she wasn’t ignorance to it at all, but she never found herself thinking if she was either as far as her persona. If anything she would have thought dominate as she tended to be strong-willed and stubborn, she liked control of certain areas of her life, and not wanting others to allow chaos within that certain little sphere which was had happened, chaos.

Her eyes caught his as he looked to her, she searched his for something she just wasn’t exactly sure what. His hand rose and the first thought was to pull away yet she didn’t she closed her eyes slightly and felt the back of his large hand move across her soft cheek, feeling the gentle side of him show towards her which was all he really had done since he’s been with her from day one after the James incident.

Grace blushed as he spoke about her, her eyes opened fully as she listened, she could tell that the words he spoke were true to heart, that shown within his eyes. Her face moved slightly as she nuzzled to the warmth of his hand letting her soft warm breath move across her lips to his hand. Grace was still angry within that she was taken, plucked from her full life and abducted into this lifestyle, but if what he spoke was true and she knew it was, she needed to realize she was not going home, and where she was, was home for her.

Swallowing hard she sighed and looked to him, “Return me to my home, my life, that would be a good start.” Grace backed her face from his hand as she stood and saved him the hassle and walked over to the ring by the shelf she was fed and watered at and stood there waiting him to tie her back up as she dropped her head, closing her eyes and held back the tears that were about to flood down her cheeks in a matter of seconds. He told her the truth; she asked for it and now needed to swallow it all.

Grace was having a hard time with trying to release the old life she had and embrace the new one she was being forced into, what confused her the most was how part of it all excited her, and how the warmth of Alister comforted her. “Please tie me Sir Alister and allow me some time alone, is what I really wish for.”

She didn’t speak to him in a demanding way, she spoke to him softly and almost in a pleading form as she could feel her body quiver as she tried to hold back what emotions she had building within. It was anger more so, she was enjoying her full life before this everything was on track, even for her age she was back in dance school and one of the best pupils in her class, she was well on her way to a lead roll in an upcoming show, her job was great she was a top notch sales agent for a growing company, and finally dating a decent male as those were far and few between it was only three weeks in the making but still that wasn’t the point.

Alister was touched by Grace’s plea, as he had been by each of the eight who had preceded her. Each had asked to be returned to their life, and each had been silently refused’ and so it was with Grace. Each before her had come to accept, even enjoy, her new life, and Alister had ensured that each was sold only to a responsible and understanding Master. He patted her hip affectionately in consolation as he retied her and left for his own dinner. The offending stable hand had been released by Lady Dawn, and his story guaranteed that all hands would behave properly when dealing with Sir Alister’s mare.

He joined Charles for dinner and broached the subject of Grace’s serving as companion for Sally at the next show.

“Sally herself has already requested it, “ Charles informed him, “and I have agreed, provided Grace is trained well enough to sit properly with you and observe.”

“I’m sure she’ll have that down and more by the weekend,” Alister responded, “I plan to introduce her to the full harness in the morn.”

Their discussion was interrupted by the approach of another.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” he said as he stood before them, “I was hoping for a few words with Sir Alister.”

“Good evening to you as well, Lord Mansville,” they both replied.

Charles continued, “I’ll take my leave ‘til you are done then.”

“If it’s not personal, your Lordship,” Alister interjected, “I’d be comfortable with Charles’ staying.”

“It is business,” Lord Mansville declared, “you are welcome to stay, Charles.” He continued, “I have heard of your new mare, and inconspicuously watched her first training session this morning. I am interested in purchasing her right now, with delivery after her training has been completed. I am prepared to pay three million for her.”

“That’s an exceptionally high price for any pony, let alone one who’s not yet proven herself,” observed Alister as he gained some time to think about this surprising offer.

“We all know your abilities as a trainer, Sir Alister,” the Lord replied, “and the beauty and grace of this mare is unsurpassed. I have no fear of disappointment in the purchase.”

On reflection, Alister decided that he wasn’t prepared now to offer her for sale, and proposed another course to Lord Mansville. “You may have no fear, but I have my reputation not only for training, but for fairness, to consider. I cannot consider a sale until her training has been successful.”

“Come on, man,” Mansville argued, “that’s nearly five times what you paid for her. Alright, then, will you take the three million plus the six-hundred-odd thousand you paid?”

“I’m sorry, but no,” he responded, “but I will agree to this: if I deem her fit for sale, you shall have right of first refusal, and the price shall be no greater than your original offer. If she’s to be sold, it will be to you, if you still want her.”

Lord Mansville was satisfied with Sir Alister’s proposal, and took leave of the two men. As soon as he was gone, Charles turned to his companion.

“My God, Sir Alister,” he said, “that was an incredible offer. I suspect there is more to your proposal than met Mansville’s eye. I think your provisos hint at a reluctance to sell at any price.”

“Perhaps, Charles, perhaps,” allowed Alister, “to be honest, I have always envied your relationship with Sally. She loves being a pony and she loves you; even more, she loves being a pony for you and you alone. I have always hoped to find that, and I hope more strongly that Grace will be my ‘Sally.’ But, please Charles, not a word of this hope of mine to anyone.”

“Have no fear, Sir Alister,” Charles assured him, and the two men turned to lighter topics as they finished their meal.

After dinner, Alister returned to the holding barn and massaged Grace with the balm again. He paid particular attention to the lingering welts from Sir James’ crops; if she were to appear elsewhere with him, others might wrongly attribute the lashes to him. He controlled himself as well as he could, but he still found her intensely desirable. Her breasts felt so full and yielding to his hands, and he thrilled at how her nipples rose at his attentions. His eyes were fixed on her face, her penetrating blue eyes and inviting lips, and he shifted his position so her flame-red mane would brush across his face whenever she tossed her head. He gently massaged the welt on her buttock, spreading the balm in widening circles until his fingers found her furrow once again and lingered there, balming her glistening clitoris. When he finished, he untied Grace from the ring to lead her for a short walk around the paddock for some exercise and fresh air. Once inside again, he undid the lead and sat with her.

“I’ve spoken to Charles,” he said, “and he has agreed. In fact, Sally had even requested your company. But you need to be sufficiently trained to appear in public at a show, even if you are not competing. I’ll bring a full harness for you in the morning, and we will work on proper stance for sitting and proper gait for walking. Now, do you have any more questions?”

As he waited for her response, he brought the back of his hand again to her cheek and then let it slide languidly down her neck and chest and then over her breast.

Grace watched as Alister left her to herself, she needed that time to think, to deal with her emotional turmoil, she was angered, at the moment she hated everyone even him, and she knew it wasn’t his fault he just bought what was offered at auction. It could have been worse, but that wasn’t the feeling at hand. Grace tugged at the bind that bound her to the ring. He freed her hands and never rebound then as she tugged at the knot.

Her head turned as she eyed the stable hand open the door, they looked to each other as Grace’s nostrils flared, her blood boiled at the sight of him. In one hand was the leather bag filled with water, and in the other was her supper.

He stepped closer and closer and once he got to where she could reach him grace jumped him and began to beat upon him, she clawed at his body. She punched and kicked him as she heard him yell out. The red headed fury was taking revenge for what he had done earlier to her, as she bit him hard she felt his cock against her making her bite even harder as her hand covered his mouth muffling his cried for help as the red head proved to him she wasn’t one he could take at he wished.

Her supper went to the floor as did the fresh water with a thump and a splash. She felt him trying to peel her hand from his mouth as her long claw like nails dug into his face. When she was done she released him and let him go, he looked to her as blood seeped from the bite and scratches.

The door slammed shut and locked behind him, her breaths her jagged as she tried to calm herself down, her throat dry as she felt the burning sensation as she drew in hard. Reaching over she grabbed the leather pouch and drank what remained within it, the food in the trough was mainly on the floor at her feet. There was a small amount left as she ate it, and then scraped the rest up and placed it back in the trough and she curled up in the corner knowing eventually there would be hell to pay, and she didn’t care.

Grace drew her knees to her chest wrapping her arms around them, her hair tangled as it hung down against her outer thighs. Closing her eyes she let out on last deep breath as she calmed down. Her cheek rested upon her knees as she waited for Alister to return, her feelings for him where no longer anger; she released her fury and felt much better, and sorry to a certain extent.

The door opened as grace pushed herself up and watched Alister return, he had the balm in hand as she moved from the corner and stood before him. Her eyes closed as she felt him apply the balm to her flesh. She swallowed hard and breathed slowly when his hands moved about her firm breasts, the welts still sore but nothing like when they were first placed. She said nothing as she moved into pony mode.

Grace felt her nipples harden to his touch, her eyes opened as she looked down watching his hands caress her flesh, as she lifted her head and looked forth she caught him looking at her and held the stare, her head tossed to the right as she brushed the tips across his face, he moved where they would caress against him as she tossed again and once more the fine hairs moved across the chin and lips of her owner.

Her rounded cheeks pushed out, her back arched as she felt his hand move around her behind, he covered every inch of her flesh and then moved down between her thighs. Grace parted her feet further for him as she bit her bottom lip as his fingers moved between her thighs.

His hand stayed within her thighs longer than anywhere as she swallowed and released a soft lingering whimper feeling her juices be smeared along her swollen petals along with the balm. Her clit grew and moved from the safety of its home, Grace gasped as she felt him rub over it and bit her bottom lip. Every touch her owner placed gave her a sense of safety, a feeling of welcomed warmth.

Grace felt the coolness of the nights air against her moistened flesh, her head lifted as the air blew it behind her head, and then she fell into step, her arms stayed bent at her sides, her elbows stiffened as she lifted them slightly as she raised her feet, one after another she walked proudly, her shoulders back, her back arched and her rounded bottom sticking out slightly.

Leading her back to her stall, she settled on her cot, he sat aside her as she lowered her head, she listened to him speak, her head turned as her eyes looked to his. She didn’t flinch as his hand rose, she welcomed the touch to her cheek, as she nuzzled his hand feeling it slide along her neck as her head rolled slowly upon her shoulders, when he reached her breasts grace sucked a breath and bit her lip stifling her moan.

“I have no questions for you, but I do have a confession that I’m sure once you hear it you will not be pleased.” She began and then stopped as she sighed pressing her breast to his hand. “When the stable hand delivered my food and water, I kind of jumped him when he came in arms reach. When I released him he didn’t look good at all. I let my anger get the best of me, I felt so angry for being taken, so angry for being kept and turned into a human pony. I was angry at him for what he did, and it would have been no different if it were another I still would have done it. I would have jumped Sir James and did the same taking whatever he gave me in the process.”

Grace pressed her chest forth as his hand remained upon it, feeling his soft caresses, “I wish to say I’m sorry but part of me isn’t. He violated me and if it were done outside this world you have me in, he’d be locked up for rape and James for abuse. I guess your grace fell from it. To you I apologize as my actions fall back on you as my owner.” Her head tossed as her hair flew about and landed on the other side of her shoulder.

Her pouty lips moved against each other as she looked to him, “It won’t happen again Sir Alister; I give you my word, that I won’t beat up any more stable hands, least to that extent.” She said with a snicker. Her firm nipple moved against the inner palm of his calloused hand as she dropped her eyes. “I don’t like being that angry, it’s not in me, never before have I ever attacked like that.” She whispered softly.

Grace’s biggest fear wasn’t her punishment she would take that as she did wrong, it was more the shit that Alister would get from others like James.

“Still wish to have me as your pony?”

Sir Alister smiled, but his face was overwhelmed with sadness.

“Of course, I still wish you to be my pony. Perhaps even more so for your spunk; I would liked to have seen you giving it to that ill-mannered young oaf. But,” he went on, “it may not go well for you.”

“The stable hand will surely lodge a formal complaint against you; I expect he came just to spur you into such a situation. The Board will meet in the morning to hear the case and render a judgement. Since he didn’t directly provoke you this time, the decision may be a painful one,” he explained to Grace.

He knew she’d wish to know the possible penalties, and so he continued, “The worst is that you could be declared ‘untrainable;’ if that were the decision, you’d be disowned and turned over to the stable hands for their amusement. I don’t see this as likely for you, though. At best, if found guilty, you would be punished with lashes as the Board sees fit. There could be action against myself as well, but it would be trivial compared to yours, a suspension at most. I will be there to apologize to the boy for his suffering twice for the same offense, and to argue in your defense.”

“Any punishment will be meted out almost immediately,” he explained to her, “I will be given but five minutes to inform you and prepare you for it.”

He put his arm around her to comfort her as best he could against a potentially painful morn, holding her close until he had to leave.

The hearing began poorly; the stable hand asked for the maximum penalty as her attack was, he claimed, vicious and unwarranted. His description of the assault seemed to sway the Board, with Sir James appearing the most aghast at the boy’s allegations. Sir Alister accepted the hand’s account of the events; they were consistent with Grace’s own account, but he challenged the boy’s claim of unprovoked attack.

“Why did you choose to feed and water her?” he demanded; “surely you knew your presence would provoke her.”

The boy was silent, and the Chairman, Lord Athelstone, pressed him to answer.

“Yes, your Lordship,” the boy admitted, but added, “I really didn’t want to; I was afraid of her. Another bade me do it.”

“Who was it?” demanded Lord Athelton, and the boy stammered. “I insist you answer.” ordered the Chairman, and the boy complied.

His answer resulted in pandemonium at the hearing, and it was several hours until all was sorted out.

Sir Alister was escorted to Grace’s room by the Sergeant-at-Arms just after sunrise. He entered alone and addressed her with a heavy heart.

“The boy demanded the maximum penalty, that you be given to him and his colleagues, but it was, thankfully, refused. It seems the boy had been told to bring you dinner in order to provoke you. He was instructed in this by Sir James himself.”

“The Board has remanded the boy for correction and revoked Sir James’ membership, but they still found you guilty of an assault that was, while understandable, unwarranted. You are to receive five stripes by coach whip, delivered by the Chief Steward. I’m to lead you to the post in the next few minutes.”

“The blows, I’m afraid,” he concluded, “will be more painful and more stinging than those you received from your nemesis on your first day here. But you must stand firm; if you fight against him, things will not go well. You will be picketed Arab style to hold your feet in place, be strong, and I will be there to groom you and balm your stripes afterwards.”

The Sergeant-at-Arms rapped on the door, and Alister led Grace to the post to be tied and picketed.

Grace watched his facial expressions change, she watched the smile disappear from his lips and the once happiness go to sadness. She knew what she did was wrong, but within herself there needed to be an escape for her fury, and he was prime target, call it wrong place and wrong time for the stable hand as Grace got her revenge.

A slight smile appeared upon her face as he confessed to her that his wish was still to have her as his, she listened on as he spoke. “Sir Alister, I’m not going to tell you punishment doesn’t scare me, but I did want I did and I knew there would be a price to pay regardless and I still did it. My only regret is it will come back on you.”

Grace nodded as he explained the stable hand would lodge a full formal complaint on her, she knew he’d do something but she didn’t feel back, she just wished she’d have got more in than she did, knowing that would teach him from doing it to her again or another. Grace also assumed it would be a painful lesson she would learn, and one she wasn’t prepared for either, grace hated pain, though she’d had enough of it through her life to be able to toughen up and accept what was given to her, least she had hoped.

“Alister, it isn’t your place to apologize for what I had done, please that is for me to do. I’m not sure how things work around here but you didn’t do it…I did. I’m an adult; I can stand up and apologize, though I’m not sure how sincere it will be as I feel he had something coming. I guess I should be quiet now, I’m only digging a hole ten foot deep for myself.”

Grace felt his arm around her as she rested her head upon his shoulder and swallowed hard, she closed her eyes and took in his scent, she could feel his emotions and knew he was having a hard time with it just as she was; she lifted her head and nuzzles her lips to his cheek, her cheek followed, and then she pulled away as it was time for him to go.

She watched him leave, she knew it wasn’t going to be good, her stomach turned hard, she wanted to bring up anything in it, but there she sat waiting her fate once again, feeling that’s all she’s been doing since she was taken from her life.

Grace heard the door open, she watched as Alister walked in, his expressions told her she wasn’t even close to being prepared for what was about to take place. Beyond him she seen another, she sighed heavily and rose from her cot and stood there and listened to him speak, pony mode time she told herself. She messed up once and caused him trouble, she wasn’t about to do it again regardless.

Grace stood tall with her head up as she heard the knock on the door; she followed Alister with her head high and her hair blowing behind her within the breeze. Trying to remember everything he said to her, she watched as she was tied to the post as she looked to him, she was tall and still, her body tensed up as she was secured.

Her mind went to a place once more no other was permitted, she looked past Alister and those about and took in a deep breath and held it slowly releasing it, preparing herself for the pain to rip through her body, yet in her mind she could hears the gulls, the waves crash, needing to stay there for a short time, not letting anyone rip her from there as they did before.

Alister stood to the side as he watched the Sergeant-at-Arms tie her martingale to the post and then slip the nooses around her feet, staking them to the ground. There would be no slack for her to flinch, to shy away from the blow.

The whole stable had assembled for the carrying out of the sentence. All ponies had to be there; punishment was also meant to serve as example and warning. Most owners, Alister knew, had sympathy for Grace. Some, however, such as would Sir James if he could, were there for pleasure, the pleasure of seeing another’s pain.

Alister understood this, or, rather, felt it. He had been Master of a Dungeon before discovering the world of ponies, and had often taken pleasure in watching a flogging or delivering one. The whir or crack of a whip, the cry of pain, the rising red welt had all aroused him then, but the pleasure that the slaves seemed to take in pain pushed to its limits aroused him the most. But that provided only physical pleasure. His true satisfaction came from training, from training his subs to enjoy his tortures, to cum or not cum at his order, to find pleasure in doing any and all he commanded. It was this that brought him to the ponies, the training, the satisfaction in seeing a woman turn into a graceful, elegant ponygirl at his instruction. Some trainers still found their pleasure in the crop and whip, but Alister preferred the satisfaction of his skill and the pleasure of his ponies’ freely-given love.

He worried, though, about the whipping to come. The thought, the sight, the sound of such ministrations still aroused his passion, swelled his organ with desire, and he wanted to hold himself from that at Grace’s expense. He tried to will his mind and sight elsewhere, but to no avail. He could not help but see Grace, her red mane flowing, bright against her pale skin, her buttocks forced high for the lash, her whole body tethered and unconditionally vulnerable. He steeled his groin as best he could when the Chief Steward stepped forward and took his place behind and to the left of Grace.

All were silent as the charge and the sentence were read out. The Steward raised the coach whip over his head, flipped the lash backward, and then snapped the rod forward with all his strength, tearing the lash across Grace’s buttocks.

“One!” he announced as her body quivered with the blow.

Again he raised his arm and brought it down. “Two!” and a new red stripe arose on her withers, parallel to the first, as her body trembled.

“Three!” Alister was at his limit. He squeezed his legs tightly together to restrain his arousal, and he cursed himself for not being stronger.

“Four!” shouted the Steward.
“How can she stand it,” Alister thought, distraught at his own inability to control himself as he realized fluid was oozing from his excited glans.

“Five!” and it was the hardest of the blows. Alister almost exploded with anger at the Steward and at himself. “How could I let this happen to her?” he demanded of himself, and, “How could I let myself be aroused by it?”

The sentence completed, the Officers led the rest of the Stable away, leaving Alister alone with Grace. He untied her and undid the picketing nooses, and led her to the washing station.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he said as he gently cleansed her, washing and combing her hair, ridding her body of the straw that still clung to it. Finished, he led her back to her room to balm her new welts.

He attended only to the new wounds, not applying the balm as he had before for fear of becoming aroused. When he finished, he took off his shirt and handed Grace his dressage whip. He turned and knelt, offering her his back for atonement, for catharsis, for whatever would help her in her anger and him in his guilt.

Grace lifted her right foot and then the left for the Sergeant-at-arms, feeling the loops placed about her ankles and staked to the ground, she didn’t even bother trying to move to see if she had any slack, she didn’t care at the moment, and she knew better more or less in fear she’d kick. The thought made her giggle within, she tried hard to hold the snicker back and keep a straight face as she already caused Alister enough problems.

Everyone gathered it was as if she was a witch in Salem and she was ready to be burned at the stake. Her eyes glanced around as she seen more ponies present there around her than she had seen the whole time she had been present in the place. It was like weddings and funerals, those where the two times that family and friends gathered for, and this was probably more like a funeral.

She watched Alister for a while, she wouldn’t when it was happening she already knew he felt bad for her and she wished him to not feel worse. There was something about him that Grace liked; she had so many mixed feelings when it came to him and her being there. She wanted to be so angry with him yet she couldn’t be. Grace melted under his touch, her knees weakened and her body just felt a warm sensation when he was around her.

Grace listened with her head held high as the charges were read, she listened to the punishment that followed as she wanted to yell out and scream how she felt this was wrong, that he deserved what he got and if she had it her way he would get it again. She didn’t though, she took her stance as Alister showed her, her back was arched and her ass was out, she moved her eyes from his and looked over and past the gathered crowd and once more she took herself away, drifting off to that special place.

Everyone remained quiet around her, there wasn’t a whisper, a cough or a sneeze heard, grace hated silence more than anything; it was the one thing that drove her crazy. The whip snapped back through the air, and then forth slicing through it, breaking the silence as it cracked against her creamy flesh. Grace bit down hard as she felt the spot hit immediately grow into a deep red welt.

She didn’t struggle to move, she didn’t drop her head, but she did hold in the cry that could have been heard for miles if released. Grace stood proudly, she tried to stay in that space where she was content but her flesh stung, and before she knew it she heard the number ‘two’ yelled out and the lash placed as the whip cracked once more.

Her body felt the pain rush through it as she bit her lip tasting the blood, yet no scream was heard. Her blue eyes welled up; her body felt the heat where the mark was placed.

The third felt as she finally left out a cry in pain as her head rolled about her shoulders; her dark red flaming hair flew around her head as she tossed it. Her ass went up, she reared like a mare would as her flesh burnt, the pain lingering the sting almost to much to handle as she whimpered and the Stewart yelled ‘four’ and she heard the leather move through the air, the crack felt as she wanted to drop to her knees as she cried out in pain once again.

The last lash was called out, “Five!” as Grace tried to make her mind go there to hear the whispering palms move through the summer breeze, the waves crash one after another. The thin leather cracked loudly against her flesh for the last time as she reared again, that one being the one that caused her the most pain as she tossed her head about and took the lashing like a proud mare, fucking with her own mind as she wanted to pass out from the pain her body felt.

Her flesh was on fire as she stood there secured to the post and the ground, her body sore as she dropped her head, her hair fell about her face hiding the tears that fell from her eyes and roll down her cheeks.

Grace listened about her, she could hear the shuffling of feet leave from around her, not a word said as she was left there to feel the pain from her punishment. She lifted her head and watched as he untied her, she dropped it once more and walked behind him slowly as she led her to the washing station.

Nothing was said from Grace as he washed her, she whimpered and winced as the water moved over her body, the pleasure she had always loved when another washed and tended to her long red tress wasn’t there at that moment.

Grace moved behind him, her head half raised as he left her back into the stall, she stood there trying to push away the pain she felt as he placed balm over the lash marks. Each one burnt and stung worse than the one before it.

Her head rose as she watched him take his shirt off, then kneel and hand her the whip, Grace took it and placed it upon the cot as she was a bit confused.

“Sir Alister I’m not angry at you, I cannot harm you even thought you hold me against my will. I don’t know what I feel, many mixed emotions inside when it comes to you. Please, don’t expect me to use that on you, one of us in pain is enough.”

Grace leaned in slowly; she whimpered as she knelt aside her owner and nuzzled her cheek to his. Her hand moved to his thigh as she moved over it and caressed him slowly. She used her free hand to move along his back, as she whispered softly, “Sir Alister, I don’t hold it against you.” She nuzzled his cheek and to lighten the mood she placed her lips to his and left a soft lingering ‘whinny’ release to his ear like a lovers kiss, as her one hand caressed his back and her other his thigh.