An Interest in Ponygirls

An Interest in Ponygirls

East Coast Slaver Organization Story - IV

Chapter 01 – New Ponygirls (or A Matched Set)

By: Desert Dog

Any graphics in this story are solely my work and

I take full responsibility for them – Desert Dog

The loud clanging of steel striking steel brought Anna Sawyer to a rude awakening. She groaned at the pain from her cramped muscles. A tug on her collar focused her mind on her task of creeping out of her tiny wire mesh dog cage without the assistance of her arms as either her elbows or wrists were always clipped to a two-inch leather belt ever-present around her waist. Anna's joints creaked and groaned with every movement. She wished she was still servicing her prior trainer's pussy, a plastic surgeon, instead of having to undergo her current grueling training regime. Soundlessly, she was led to a grooming post and her leash secured to a ring at nose level. Her Groom carefully ran a brush through her long blonde Mohawk to get any tangles out before the Groom added a thick layer of gel and a final combing to get the blonde tufts to stand upright. Anna was next subjected to the indignity of a lukewarm shower from the neck down from a handheld nozzle on the end of a flexible hose. The Groom ran a coarse sponge over her soapy form, giving special attention to her breasts and pubic mound. Thanks to Doctor Miller, Anna Sawyer would never have to shave again. Her entire body had been subjected to several painful treatments of laser hair removal.

Anna, now known simply as 'One' stood meekly as her body was toweled dry with vigorous rubbing of her skin. The Groom used a powder puff ball to apply scented powder to her armpits, breasts, and chest before bringing a black whale-bone corset to her belly. Anna let her breath out obediently as the Groom yanked the ensemble painfully tight, compressing her already trim figure to an eye-catching wasp waist. The corset cupped a portion of the underside of each breast meat, lifting them up and providing support without covering her areole or brown nipples that were crowned with golden nipple rings.

The Groom's fingers manipulating her pussy lips brought pants of lust to 'One.' A tongue, from the slightly chunky female Groom fitting her tack, flicked across the sensitive side of her neck, further inflaming her rising lust. "Oh, God!" she moaned to herself, "can't I resist anyone's sexual advances. What a slut I am! And a woman, … how can I respond sexually to a woman, … oh what have I become?"

Paula Laturno, the Ponygirl Ranch's Head Groom laughed at 'One's' easy arousal and moved behind her to raise a bare foot off the floor, exactly as a horse's hooves are moved for cleaning and in preparation for shoeing. She slipped clean white sports socks on each foot before slipping on white leather cross trainer shoes. With 'One's' feet ready, the Groom delivered a stinging slap to her ass cheek and praised her with, "Good, slut, Ponygirl."

A damp cloth was vigorously rubbed across her face and she opened her mouth wide at the brusque command, "Open." Anna, sighed inwardly, she knew the drill. Next was the awful ringgag that kept her mouth open, followed by the buckling of heavy leather blinders, and the attachment of a set of thin leather reins running across each side of her head to terminate at her nose ring. The reins were left draped from her nose to run loosely down her naked back. A Groom had explained to her that while two of her molars had already been pulled in preparation for a proper bit, she wasn't ready, wasn't well trained enough; the Trainers were fearful of hurting her mouth before she was ready to learn the subtle cues of control.

Anna whimpered and spread her legs for the final insult. Paula reached down with red-tipped fingernails to the Ponygirl's slick pussy and clipped a fine chain lead to a ring on each fat labia lip. The Groom fed the two leads under her groin and behind her where they attached to another set of leather reins. Anna, now blinded to her location by the blinders, felt her adjusting the four leads behind her before her release from the Grooming pole. At the command, "Walk on!" Anna lightly pranced out of her cell and moved gracefully down a hallway to a huge indoor riding arena. She knew their destination; it was a two-pony, racing sulky drawn by two sets of drawbars. For locomotive power, two Ponygirls, one on each set of drawbars, pulled the rider or riders around. It took a deft hand to control each of the two Ponygirls with a total of four driving and four punishment reins.

'One' stood patiently in place waiting for the other Groom to bring out her sister, Becky Sawyer, now identified as 'Two." Compared to her present entirely physical training regime, Anna almost remembered fondly how she and Becky had been initially stored in wire dog cages at the doctor's facility. For weeks following numerous surgeries, they had undergone rigorous sexual training in giving oral sex and receiving hard cocks in all of their three sexual orifices by their kinky doctor. Announcing that they were ready, their unnamed doctor, Doctor Joan Miller, had bundled up the two blondes for transport. Anna reflected on how she had been led to crouch over a plastic mold, similar to sitting atop a personal watercraft, or Skidoo, that was bolted to the bottom of a crate. Anna had slid her knees down into a recess ready to receive her knee, lower leg, and foot. Her Doctor had reached between her ringgag and attached a clip to her tongue ring. The leash on the clip was thrown through a face-sized opening and Anna's head was pulled down into the cushioned cutout designed to hold her face. A nylon strap across the back of her head, and Anna was helpless. Her arms were already held uselessly at her side, elbow cuffs locked tight against a wide waist belt. Anna realized that her face, held the way it was against an opening, had easy access to breathing air.

A plastic sheet had been thrown over Anna's bound form and then the top of crate, comprised of the lid and four sides, was lowered over her helpless body and bolted to the base. Anna heard a hissing noise and a cool foamy chemical spread across her back on the other side of the plastic sheet. Over the next few minutes, the foam warmed, solidified, and then started to expand, squeezing Anna evenly down onto the plastic form below her. Eventually, Anna was cast into place with no way to free herself.

Becky, Anna's sister was packaged in an identical fashion. After several uncomfortable hours, Doctor Miller met the delivery man at her door and signed off on a shipping manifest for the two slaves destined to face the challenging task of becoming Ponygirls. The specialty Slave Delivery Service took charge of the two girls and whisked them away on their cross-country journey to the desert training facilities in Arizona.

Anna Sawyer heard her sister shuffle up beside her but was unable to see her because of the leather blinders she wore. She heard the Chief Trainer, Cliff Burns, come over to make final adjustments with the harnesses and knew that she and Becky would be harnessed identically between the drawbars. The Ponygirl Ranch owner, Marshall Thompson, had informed them that they would wear ringgags until they were in good enough physical shape to begin learning the bit and bridle. Instead, they were steered by a set of leather reins leading from their nose rings to either side of their faces. The sulky driver used the reins and a surrey whip to give the women incentives to cooperate. Also, there was the very real chance of awful punishment sessions if they were judged to have not given one hundred percent effort.

Her nose reins shook gently and she heard Cliff command, "Walk on." Anna and Becky Sawyer, longtime con artists had specifically targeted rich Joseph Loftus after reading his mother's obituary in the Raleigh North Carolina News and Observer. The two had callously planned to get his money by making him fall in love with the youngest sister, Anna. After Joseph proposed a generous prenuptial agreement, the two women became angry that the capped potential share of the married couple's assets was only two million dollars during the first year of marriage with increasing increments of one million dollars per year of continued marriage. Given the complication of the prenuptial agreement, the two women were talking about the possibility of killing him soon after the wedding. Joseph discovered the murderous plans and arranged to have the women permanently removed from his life. The head of the East Coast Slavers Organization, Aaron Clarke, abducted the women and made them slaves. Doctor Joan Miller had remade the two sisters into identically beautiful exotic creatures.

Anna's sore muscles quickly loosened under the easy pace of the walk. When she felt the displaced air and crack of the carriage whip close to them, she and her sister stepped up the pace in a perfectly coordinated motion borne of long practice. The two women had been running endless circles and tracks in the indoor arena for several weeks. Anna could feel that her body had toughened immensely under the daily exercise sessions and careful diet. The whip snapped above their heads again and they obediently stepped up the pace, each now beginning to feel their increased heartbeat and the beginnings of a heavy sweat beading on their luscious bodies. Their trim bare ass cheeks jiggled enticingly.

Cliff Burns blessed his best friend for getting him to make the move from the bare subsistence living of working race horses to his current job of training beautiful women as Ponygirls. He especially loved that most of the women that came to Marshall Thompson's facilities in southern Arizona were unwillingly undergoing their training. "And," he told himself with a huge grin, "the sex is world-class." His dick throbbed at the thought of the identical women in front of him. It was impossible for him to guess their age. He admired their flawless skin, perfect bodies, full ripe breasts, and aristocratic faces. The forced look of brainlessness from a gag on an otherwise perfectly sculpted face was his favorite turn on. "These two are the best I've ever seen," he muttered. He loved the faux brands of the Roman numeral I and II on the sides of their heads and above their pussies. "Hmmm," he moaned in frustration. "Sorry we have another hour before this session is finished. I need a fuck." Frustrated, he flicked the whip above the blondes' Mohawks and brought them to the fastest measured pace, a canter. At this speed, he knew that he had to keep encouraging the twin Ponygirls to hold the pace. He flicked the whip again and repeated the command, "Canter, … canter, … canter, … good girls, … hold that pace."

The thought of the next level of training made his dick throb even more. He judged that the two were nearly ready for their bits and bridles. Then, he could fit each with their own long blonde tail, mounted at the end of a fat anal butt plug. One of his favorite sexual positions was a Ponygirl thrown over a hitching post with his dick buried in her wet twat. He could yank the livestock's ass around by pulling on the inflatable butt plug. "Plus," he added to himself, "the butt plug squeezes a pussy even tighter against my dick."

He shook himself free of his daydream and gently pulled back on the nose reins. "Slow, girls," he whispered. "Slow, … Walk on," he commanded as the Ponygirls slowed to the correct pace. Rivulets of sweat ran down their gleaming haunches. "Before we finish," he thought, "maybe I'll take them outside the arena for a run across the desert floor. That'll finish the session well. Maybe a good run on the six-mile course?"

About thirty minutes later, the two sweaty and thoroughly worn-out blonde Ponygirls slowed their pace as they approached a hilltop miles from their training arena. Cliff Burns brought his two obedient Ponygirls up to a Mesquite tree where he pulled back on all four driving reins and commanded, "Whoa!" Anna and Becky stopped, gasping for breath from the long uphill track they had just traversed. Their slender Trainer set the brake on the surrey and walked around to face his two identical Ponygirls. He let each drink thirstily from a sports bottle full of cool water while he used his free hand to rub the breasts and pussies of each heated woman, a long finger snaked into the moist pussies to judge their state of arousal.

He pulled his hat off to set beside him on a boulder and said, "Which one of you two fillies wants a good fuck?"

Anna and Becky each pawed the ground instantly with their right feet. Like smart trained horses counting, they stomped their feet hard on the dusty ground and threw their heads back. Uncertain how to select one over the other, the Trainer simply grabbed the closest woman and unclipped her nose and pussy ring reins. He pulled a chain leash out of a handy pocket and attached it to her collar. Barely a minute later, Becky was tied across an already warm desert boulder, naked ass up. Without ceremony, or preliminary foreplay, Cliff walked up and simply stuck his cock straight into her hot cunt. Becky felt the rough rock surface bruise her breasts and belly as the strong ranch hand fucked deep into her pussy. Becky moaned mindlessly and came, well before the man fucking her cunt spurted deep inside her buttery depths. Her hips moved expertly, even with her elbows cuffed against her waist, to draw out his orgasm and to slack the itch in her own cunt. Becky's fingers clenched in joy when the Trainer's thrusts become deeper, less controlled, and he spurted with a grunt. Before Becky fully recovered from the mindbending orgasm, her collar was yanked hard, bringing her around and to her knees in front of Cliff's spent dick. Without thought or hesitation, she slurped the flaccid, sperm-covered cock into her mouth. The Trainer's hands brushed against her cheeks and he complimented her with a "Good, Ponygirl. Good slut."

Becky was aroused once again by the compliment and wished that there were more hard dicks to service. Given her sluttish response to her offhand treatment as a sex object, she repeated her thought that she was becoming more of a whore than ever.

Too soon, it was time to return down the long hill toward the stables and arena. Anna moaned with each footstep and her nose stung from the Trainer's gentle yanking on her nose reins. "Oh, Joseph," she cried to herself, "where are you? How come you haven't found us yet?" Becky had similar thoughts, hers punctuated by the sticky jism dribbling out of her pussy from the Trainer's perfunctory fuck. Both Anna and Becky were blissfully ignorant of the connection between their kidnapping and enforced slavery to their murderous plot against Joseph Loftus. Each dreamt of rescue by their lover and a return to a life of luxury. Gone, for now at least, was the thought of killing Joseph soon after the planned wedding to take his assets.

--- To Be Continued ---

Author: Desert Dog ****** E-Mail: Desertlickingdog at yahoo dot com

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