The Mistress of Chatsford Manor

by

Donna Dee and Karen-Anne Summerfield

© February 2004

 

Part IV

Ponygirl Gretchen

 

I awoke to find the gag had been removed, my arms freed and that I was wearing a nightdress. I was, of course, in the same bed in which I had awoken that morning – or was it the day before? I had no way of knowing. I ran my fingers over my new breasts and marvelled that there was no soreness or irritation; in fact, my actions caused a pleasant sensation.

"Leave them alone," said Holly. "Indeed, playing with yourself at your ageI Let me see how firm they feel."

It was just an excuse for her to feel my breasts and my nipples hardened as soon as her hand touched the spot; it was heavenly, I didn't want her to stop.

Suddenly I jerked up in shock – I was really scared. Her fingers were idly playing with my enlarged nipples when I became aware of an odd sensation, not exactly unpleasant, but definitely, decidedly odd. I pushed her hands away to discover both my nipples had been pierced and that there were very heavy rings or hoops some two-inches in diameter running right through each. I tried to cry out and got even more frightened when I realised I couldn't make a sound. I put both hands to my mouth as tears flooded my eyes and felt another ring through the septum in my nose. The fear must have shown in my eyes and Holly must have decided to get it all over with at once as she took my hands up to my ears where I found two more large hoops.

"That's all there are, darling, and they can all be taken out when this is over."

I indicated my mouth and tried to speak. "That will go away too, I promise."

Just then Dr Vaughan came in and smiled at my tears and obvious fright. "It isn't permanent Erica, honestly it's not."

She was about to say more when in walked my sister, whip in hand and a look of hatred on her face. "Get her up – Madam wishes to see her!"

*****

Once again I was taken along the corridor and up in the lift in a wheel chair. Alison curtseyed as we entered and frowned when Madison held up her hand to indicate I should remain seated. She hadn't liked that one little bit. Madison spoke to me gently.

"You are going to the stables as a ponygirl, Erica, after all, how can you organize and supervise the training of a ponygirl, if you have never experienced it yourself? You will stay there for around four weeks, and you will be treated just like all the others because, as you look now, Jennipher and her staff wont know who you really are – and you won't be able to tell them, will you?"

"Ostensibly you will be going as a new ponygirl I have bought from the continent, one that is in need of some serious training, so you can expect a few strokes of the whip and the cane and you will have to work hard, very hard, because your stature is not suitable to be a member any of the elite squads. You will not be favoured by anyone, least of all Mistress Alison and myself. You will pull freight wagons that are heavy and passenger carriages that need to go quickly. You will sleep in a stall, be dressed and cleaned by a groom, exercised by a trainer and fed by a stable girl. Your feed will be the same biscuits the others get – and you will only get water to drink.

"When I am satisfied that you understand what it is like to be a ponygirl you will be brought back here, everyone there will think you have been sold, to another stable perhaps', and then, a little later, you will return there as, 'Mistress Erica', in charge of the stables and the ponygirl division of this business. Now, you can't ask any questions, so be off with you to bed and get over your little operation so we can get you down to the stables. Just nod if you are reasonably comfortable with the operation."

I nodded.

As we went down the corridor Alison started to laugh. "Just temporary?" she questioned, I don't think so, Erica. 'TheMistress of Chatsford Manor', is not a job I'd want, mixing with all the riff raff every day, and although I acknowledge it is the top job within Madison's organisation, I am determined that you won't get it, sister dear. With luck they will forget you and leave you there. By the way, you will never get your voice back, no matter what that quack has told you. After a while, I'll have those rings soldered up and made permanent and a few more fitted for good measure. With summer just a few weeks away, you can think of me while you are half naked and working in the fields while I am back here in charge where I was meant to be. In a little while, I will visit you and make your life even more uncomfortable, and that's a promise! Goodbye, sister dear.

*****

It was late afternoon when I arrived at Chatsford Manor, not in the manner I wanted, but as a ponygirl. The attendants lifted the stretcher on which I'd been strapped, placed it on a gurney then wheeled me into the workshop at the end of the stables.

"New arrival, Jennipher," one of them said as he handed her a large envelope.

"Very well. Unstrap her, please?"

I was soon standing, barefoot, shivering and frightened. One of the grooms clipped a lead to my nose ring and led me to the tack room. Jennipher joined us there. She was reading from the sheaf of documents in her gloved hand. "German girl named, 'Gretchen' … Mistress Alison is listed as her owner," she said aloud. "She must be planning a quick sale."

"Why's that, Mistress?" the groom questioned. She had clipped two tethers from the ceiling to my nose ring and removed the rein.

"No tattoos and she doesn't want her branded just yet. Whatever.

"Remove the straitjacket, Elise?" Jennipher replaced the papers and tossed the envelope aside to start undoing the straps at the back.

"Oh, these are nice," the groom hefted my breasts with both her hands, "Bit big though."

"A right cow," Jennipher laughed. A leather cuff circled my wrist and she pulled it out from my side to attach another tether. The groom fastened my other hand. Elise measured me over my corset.

"Thirty-two G, twenty-one, thirty-three," she stated.

I didn't realise how strong the stable mistress was until she placed both hands on my waist and squeezed them together. "Fetch an number nineteen corset-harness. We can easily nip another inch or two out of her to start." Her hands examined my groin.

"Bring a crotch piece too, Elise. She's only recently been gelded."

Before beginning with the tack, they worked a bright white latex suit up my legs to cover my body to its high collar. Of course, my breasts, bum and fanny remained exposed like the other ponygirls I'd seen. Quickly, I realised that wearing a nearly full covering of rubber was not going to be comfortable – it was bloody hot and bound to become worse when they exercised me. The ends of the sleeves were thumbless mittens and I knew I'd have no use of my hands as a ponygirl.

The corset they wrapped around me was stiff white leather without a separating busk. They had to thread the laces through all of the grommets in back, before the corset could be tightened. As the groom did this, Jennipher sorted out the straps. Two started between the partial cups lifting and supporting the huge breasts I'd been given. One went over each shoulder. They crossed in back and buckled to the top of the corset there.

She crouched to buckle the three straps at the top of the piece that would cover my crotch. "Spread your hind quarters, ponygirl!" Jennipher ordered.

"She might not understand English, Mistress," the groom advised.

"Perhaps," she painfully pinched my sensitive flesh inside my thighs. "Spread!

"She'll understand pain though." The strap passed between my legs. I felt the groom spread my bum so it could rest between my cheeks.

"Her papers say no real tail for this one, so we'll need to use one of the plug ones, Elise."

"Gretchen will really like having her bung filled all day," the groom joked. "I'd prefer a real tail."

"I can arrange it for you, if you'd like," Jennipher teased.

"Lace her to twenty inches whilst I fit her hooves, go to nineteen inches tomorrow."

I expected the white, lace-up knee high boots with their black glass-fibre hooves, but not how highly they arched my feet once they'd been forced over my feet. I'd worn six-inch heels at school, but these were even higher. Most of my weight was borne on my bent toes.

As the corset started to tighten, my chest began to hurt. I wanted to protest that it was too tight, but, of course, I couldn't. Pink leather cuffs connected by a fairly long chain were strapped about my ankles. "Take her centre chain, Elise." I'd not seen the ponygirls hobbled like they were doing to me. The groom fastened that in back then resumed tightening the punishing corset.

Jennipher stood to work my hands into pink leather mittens rendering my fingers useless then turned her attention to my face. "Normally, your makeup would be tattooed, but since your owner doesn't want that, we'll just use skin dye to pretty you up." This liquid stung as she painted it on with a fine brush. The stable mistress spent a lot of time doing my eyes.

"Any specifics about her lips, Mistress?" The groom had finished tightening the excruciating garment and adjusting the straps. "They look too thin to me."

Jennipher poised and stepped back a bit to look me over. "Agreed. Get the collagen, Elise, you can inject them after I finish." I didn't want fatter lips, but wasn't consulted. I could feel them swell as the substance was injected in numerous places.

"Get a mark three training bit, please.'

"That's rather severe for a new ponygirl, Mistress?" Elise questioned.

"I agree, but her owner wants her with a mark seven within a month." I heard the groom let out her breath as she walked to get my bit. It was worse than I had imagined. Like the others, the metal was flat where it passed my lips and over my teeth to join a pear that would fill my mouth, but worse was a flat, downward curved plate emerging from the rear.

"Open," Jennipher ordered. There was no way I wanted that thing in my mouth. A sharp jerk on one of my nose tether chains advanced my decision to obey. I gagged as the end of the plate just entered my throat; the stable mistress pressed it in anyway. I tried to shake my head to expel the horrible device, but tension on the nose chains cancelled that bad idea.

"You'll get used to it, Gretchen … eventually," I was calmly told as Jennipher clipped the fine chains from either side of the bit to my nose ring. Another set was joined to the large hoops through my ears.

"We'll do her fore-hooves before we fit the tail, Elise." The groom took a firm grip on my right arm. Jennipher folded my arm behind my back and Elise fastened the strap to the back of the corset and again above my elbow. My other arm was immobilised in the same manner.

"Tell Angus this one's ready, Elsie." I wondered who this Angus was; I'd thought all of Madison's staff was female or, at least, pretty boys and men that looked like girls. I had to wait several minutes before a stocky red-bearded man lumbered in carrying a heavy appearing chest. He wore a tartan kilt covered by a grimy leather apron.

"Elise told me just a shoeing, Miss Jennipher?" he seemed to question.

"That's right, only your farrier service for little Gretchen. Her owner doesn't wish her branded.

"So be it," his rough hands rubbed over my bum. "Shame, be prettier, once the mark was burnt in." I shivered and wanted to scream as he kneaded my cheeks, but the horrid bit prevented any outburst had I been able to utter one.

Unceremoniously, Angus grasped my left hoof from behind, lifted it up and trapped it between his legs. I struggled to balance and hurt my nose as the chains tightened. He started to nail the steel shoe to the bottom of my hoof.

Seeing what the stable mistress was about took my mind off of the indignity of that man and what he was doing. First she brushed out a very full tail with hair matching my now platinum mane. Satisfied, she began to grease the fat plug that was destined to soon fill my bunghole. This was not fixed to the end of the tail, but six inches away on a curved metal bar that connected the two.

Seeing that I was watching, Jennipher grinned. "Today it is just plain grease, Gretchen. We have one made from ginger oil that you'll just love, if we aren't satisfied with your progress."

"Thank you, Angus," both curtseyed when he'd packed up and made ready to leave.

Jennipher handed the plug to Elise then unsnapped the tethers on my nose ring. With just her finger through it, she easily convinced me to bend forward. It hurt to do so as my corset was extremely stiff. I felt the groom grease my rectum then work the plug in. It felt huge. Elise fastened it to the strap and did something else too, before I was straightened up.

A pair of reins, matching the pink tack, was uncoiled and clipped to my earrings. "Put her on the hot walker, Elise, slow speed. I'll find a trainer and send her round."

"Yes, Mistress." The groom accepted the reins and just started to walk out. I'd no choice, but to follow her.

It was mid-afternoon when I walked into the bright sunshine. Very quickly I learned that the centre chain that was free to slide along my hobble chain had been connected to my butt plug. Every movement and vibration was transmitted to the invader.

Before coming here I could walk well in six-inch heels; but following with the hooves on my feet was more difficult than my first pair of court shoes. The hot walker was perhaps a hundred yards from the stable.

Idle at the time, Elise placed me under one of its four arms radiating thirty or more feet from the pivotal centre stanchion. Unlike the reins, which had been clipped to my earrings, she snapped the two leads directly to the arms of my bit. I watched the groom coil the reins as she walked to the centre. There, she hung them on a peg and opened a panel. A few seconds later, I heard the machinery start and a very painful jerk on the bit started me in motion. Elise never even looked at me, but just walked back towards the stable.

Everything about the situation I was in bothered me. The bit filling my mouth was bad enough; the least tension caused it to lever my mouth open. I couldn't swallow and drool dripped from my chin onto my bouncing breasts. My breasts were huge and heavy! Quite unlike those of Samantha's and Tabitha's that had felt quite firm, those I'd been given bounced about like half set custard pudding – they almost sloshed to create a most disturbing feeling; uncomfortable yet arousing at the same time.

The plug buggering me was doing the same. Not only were the dancing chains vibrating it, but the weight of my tail swishing with each step only added to my discomfort. Desperately, I wanted to rub myself to satisfaction in my crotch. Combined with what I was feeling in my sensitive breasts with the heavy rings gently tugging my nipples with what that plug was doing to my arse were all tending to make me insane.

Not all offered such questionable pleasure. The corset was too tight, especially about my chest where it deprived me of deep breathing to satisfy the oxygen-staved muscles of my straining legs. My hooves were heavy now that they bore steel shoes in addition to whatever weighted them. Perhaps worst, was the overall confinement of the tight latex skin that encased me – it was hot!

I'd made several circuits before a whip bit my naked cheek. "Get those knees up!" a girl shouted. "Higher!" The lash struck again. I turned my head to look at my tormentor. The leather lash was very painful.

"You do not need to look at me, ponygirl! You need only to obey!" she called. I straightened and did as she'd said.

For what seemed like many hours I made the circuit, which I'd learn was one twenty-fifth of a mile and was exhausted long before the trainer shut off the exerciser unfastened my reins and guided me back to the stable.

"I've the wagon in the morning, see she is part of the team, Marla," the trainer told the groom she had passed my reins to at the entrance to the building.

"As you wish, Renee." They curtseyed to each other. I was led to a stall in the centre of the left row. The groom unlatched the door and drew me into the six-foot box. A chain was clipped to my nose ring and she crouched to connect one from beneath the straw to the end of my centre chain between my hooves.

"It's your first day, I'm told," she fondled my sore right breast. "Feed is there," she pointed to the trough. "You are going to need every bit of energy you can muster, so eat well." Marla removed my bit.

"What did you do to earn a Mark III on your first day?" she shrugged and just clipped it to her belt.

"You remain standing until lights out. No leaning either. Sleep, best you can than – morning will come all too quickly."

The groom closed and latched the door. "Be a good girl, things will go better for you if you try." I watched her through the bars in the top half of the door until she'd walked out of sight.

I was thirsty and moved to the water trough where I leaned to drink my fill of the tepid liquid. My large breasts drooped and flopped about reminding me of their presence. They also bumped the edge of the trough. I wanted to caress them, but wanted to satisfy the need in my crotch even more!

Despite not having anything to eat since before my surgery, I'd no appetite, still I knew I must feed and forced myself to eat more than my new corset wanted to permit.

I watched as Elise and Marla placed other ponygirls in their stalls; some had been occupied when I'd been brought in.

I was sore and exhausted. I wanted sleep! I struggled to stand and just managed. My situation was hopeless and I was more than uncomfortable. I wanted the tail out of my bum. I wanted my arms and hands free. The corset was too tight not allowing me to breathe properly. The latex skin compressing me all over was hot and I itched in numerous places. Least annoying were my hooves.

The sound of slamming doors got my attention. The grooms were closing and latching the top panels on the stall doors. When mine closed to put me in darkness, I took it as a signal that I could rest and sank to my knees then laid down in the deep straw.

It poked my sensitive bare flesh. As much as I hated the suit, it did offer minimal protection. With my arms bound as they were and no pillow or blanket, I could find no position that even approached being a comfortable one. I finally settled to lie on my back, but couldn't stretch out fully because of where the fastening to my chain was anchored in the centre of the stall. I questioned if everything they'd done to me as a ponygirl was intended to deny me even the least comfort.

"Stand up, ponygirl!" I was kicked, fairly hard in my belly. I thought it just a dream until a crop stuck my bum. "I said up!" A jerk on my nose tether fully awakened me.

"Stand up!" Her uniform was thick black neoprene that left only the normal areas bare. With a close fitting helmet covering her head, only her eyes and mouth were visible.

"Turn around and bend over!" she ordered sharply. Her hoof kicked mine apart when I had. No sooner was my tail removed than a new plug filled the hole and I felt warm liquid flow into my rectum.

"You hold that in until I say you may void, ponygirl!" At least the enema was warm. I'd not been given one since I was a toddler and certainly never whist tightly corseted. Her gloved finger had found my nose ring and held me in position. That damn thing could completely control me! I hated it!

Finally, she released her grip and pointed to the corner. I felt ashamed, but needed to empty too much to worry the matter. I'd already urinated several times in the straw. What did it matter?

Locked in and left alone, I watered and ate more of the biscuits.

A groom I didn't know drew me from the stall and led me to the tack room. There my bare flesh and suit were washed and dried. Once my bit was inserted, they replaced my hated tail then led me outside. My reins were handed to Marla.

The sun hadn't even risen, telling me that it wasn't even five o'clock in the morning.

She led me to the heavy wagon I'd seen during my introductory tour. Other grooms were hitching ponygirls to the single trees to form a team of sixteen. I judged that all of them were larger than I was. Two trainers circulated to inspect their tack as the traces were fastened to the fittings on it at each side of my corset at my waist. The groom sorted my reins and drew them behind.

When the trainer, a quite attractive brunette with her hair in a bob, reached me she fingered between my breasts. "Gretchen, Mistress Alison's property." Her brown eyes met mine. "Well Gretchen, expect no favouritism from me, though I expect the Mistress demands you are singled out for extra discipline. You are a member of Renee's team and she's on trash detail first today. Later you'll fetch supplies at the depot." She inspected my tack and prised open my mouth with the handle of her crop.

"You don't belong here," the trainer said, disgustedly. "You're nothing but a bloody parlour pony!" She even spit to the side to show her disgust. "Never the less, that's Jennipher's decision. You will pull your share, though you'll never match the other mares."

'A bloody parlour pony', was I! I'd show the bitch!

Ha! I could only wish! The driver's whip found my arse as a favoured target. I strained and struggled to pull the wagon with the others. God I hated this! Nothing I did seemed right!

Trash pick up was the easy part as the ground between the buildings was fairly level. We were driven to the other stable then the barn. At each stop we were allowed to rest whilst slaves loaded the garbage. Once that from the manor house had been placed we were driven off the estate. Although the wagon's steel-tyred wheels rolled easier on the paved surface, there were many hills along the route and our steel shod hooves tended to skid on the macadam, especially on the steeper hills.

Finally we reached the garbage dump. With the wagon empty, it was easier to pull on the return route. We were driven past the front gate to the outskirts of the town that I remember was almost two miles away. The depot on the outskirts was large and many wagons and carts of all sizes from those pulled by just one ponygirl to those pulled by eight or ten. I saw no other vehicles as large as the one to which we were hitched.

It took the workers some time to load supplies aboard our wagon. When Renee's whip set us in motion again, I sensed our load was considerable, much, much heavier than the trash.

I struggled to pull my share, but the lash frequently found my bouncing cheeks. I hated what they'd done to me. I didn't deserve to be a ponygirl! I didn't!

Each night, I fell asleep in the damn straw covering the cobbled stone floor of my stall. No longer could I actually think. I was exhausted at the end of our ten-hour workdays. Though one of the trainers who drove the wagon each day had proclaimed me nothing but a bit of showy fluff – even that luxury was denied. I was a damn draft horse and nothing more.

Every morning I was led out, stinking more than the day before and forced to pull the heavy wagon. Nothing changed, nothing got better, but, at least, it didn't get worse. How could it have?

I can only guess that I had been in the stable about a week, for I'd lost track of days, when I was led to be tethered, as always, by my nose ring, in the tack room. Jennipher was there with the trainer who drove the wagon every other day. Marla and Elise stripped me naked then washed me with perfumed soap and using soft brushes whilst they watched.

"I'll give her this, the little one tries, Mistress." The trainer said. "She lacks the strength and mass to be a draft pony, but she gives every bit of effort anyone could ask for."

"I've been watching, Elva," Jennipher said, "Your recommendations?"

"It's pointless to keep her on the wagon team unless it's to punish her. She'd probably be a good member of a miniature team, but don't expect any trophies. Her efforts will not compensate for her stature. Whoever decided her tits would be that big with such a small waist wasn't thinking of winning races either."

"That will do. Thank you, Elva."

Clean, I was dressed in white latex again. As I expected, when a new lace was tightened it my corset, the gap was closed, top to bottom to give me a nineteen-inch waist.

Once grooming was completed, Elise led me to field and removed the reins before latching the gate. I could only guess that all of the ponygirls were in the fenced enclosure. I estimated the field to be a couple of acres and that there were about a hundred of us in its confines.

I'd been left alone for a few minutes when a ponygirl approached me. It was Samantha. She seemed to stare for a moment, before coming closer to bend her knees and rub her ringed nipples to mine. Ooooooh … that felt so nice! I wanted so much more. Had she recognized me, even with what they'd done to my breasts and mane? I knew I'd never know the answer.

She cocked her head then walked away. I followed. Suddenly she stopped to glare at me then focused on my legs. Seeming annoyed, she raised her thigh to level then stamped it on the turf. She repeated this with her right leg then motioned to me with her chin. I duplicated her manoeuvres to elicit a smile around her bit with a nod. Together, we pranced to a group that included her teammate, Tabitha. I attempted to initiate a nipple rub, but fell short, of course.

If ponygirls like us could laugh still, Tabitha did. She crouched to rub hers vigorously against mine. The other six in the group did the same. Such affection felt wonderful!

A tall redhead bumped her hip against mine. She wanted me to go with her. The others followed. Before us was a hurdle. A brunette ran towards it and easily cleared it by a foot. They all looked to me. I thought they were crazy! None of them were hobbled nor were their figures so disproportionate as mine. One by one, all jumped the low obstacle. They expected me to do the same!

A knee urged me to at least try. I gave it a go and cleared it comfortably; it felt so very good when they rubbed their nipples to mine.

Two used their legs to raise the bar a notch for another go. I learned it was customary for this group to rub nipples with each successful jump.

On the fourth jump, I clipped the bar with my left hoof and fell painfully to the grass. None offered sympathy, their hooves kicked me (not hard) until I stood and had tried again, clearing it that time.

We ran together and I tried to match my hoof beats to theirs. I was shorter by nearly a head than any of the others in our group. I'm sure we made an impressive sight as I tried to keep up. The tallest chestnut seemed to be the leader.

When we stopped for a breather, she came to face me, or looked down at me perhaps I should say. The chestnut crouched so we were eye to eye. Exchanging nipple rubs seemed the accepted affectionate greeting. I shook mine side to side in return and she smiled then kissed me on the lips.

Others came over to rub their breasts to mine as we rested. I enjoyed being with them.

When the chestnut signalled with a stomp of her hoof that our break was over, we were off at a trot. Easily, anyone of them could have left me in their dust, but didn't. I was surrounded and, if I slowed, one would nudge me forward. It felt so good after my ordeal to be so accepted.

Too soon, I was tethered in my stall again.

The following morning, after my brief grooming, mostly to brush the straw from my mane and hated tail, I was hitched between the shafts of a sulky. My trainer that morning was a petite girl, even smaller than me. She led me outside by my reins. I was guided to the hot walker and she snapped the leads to my bit, but did not remove my reins.

"My name is Caroline, Gretchen. The stable mistress has assigned you to me for now." She slipped a bridle, of sorts, over my head. There wasn't much too it, just a brow band and a thin strap on each side that buckled snugly under my chin. She went behind and clipped a strap over each of my ears then pulled my head back at a forty-five degree angle so I could no longer see the ground ahead of me, only the sky. Once she'd buckled these to my corset-harness I couldn't lower my head or turn it from side to side.

"Both Renee and Elva reported that you waste too much energy moving your head about while being driven, so, for now, you'll wear a bridle to break you of that," she informed. "If you are curious, it is not intended to be comfortable, just the opposite in fact. You'll hate it shortly and even more so when I put it on you again tomorrow.

"It's suspected you don't understand English – doesn't matter, I'll tell you anyway. We're going for a long drive today but we're going nowhere. You will be tethered to the hot walker. The machine is in neutral, which means that you are going to pull it around.

"While you are doing that, I'm going to teach you proper form." Caroline slapped my bum and I felt her climb aboard and take up my reins. The lash cracked near my ear to start me.

As I just walked ahead, I felt it bite on the back of my left thigh; not hard, but it still hurt. Remembering the prancing that Samantha and the others in our group had taught me, I lifted my knee to level and stomped it down. "Good girl, you learn quickly."

Though the machine was not it gear, I still had to overcome the inertia to get it moving and then the friction to keep it rotating. It had been attached to my bit so all that effort was bore by my mouth. Pulling the sulky was nothing in comparison.

I was kept at a prancing walk and felt her whip every time I failed to lift my leg high enough to suit my trainer. Though the ground was level, it was sheer hard work and I was kept at it all morning.

Towards midday, Caroline drew on my reins to halt me and dismounted. The sulky and tethers were unhooked and she led me away with my head still tilted back. Stopped again, she loosened the checkreins so I could lower my head to level, but no further, then removed my bit.

"Remain standing, but drink your fill, Gretchen. I'll return after lunch." I was tethered next to a wooden water trough with a dozen other ponygirls near me. Though they looked at me briefly, I was largely ignored.

My checkreins weren't tightened until I was again bitted and hitched to the shafts of the sulky. I think my trainer wanted me to see what torment I could expect that afternoon. Attached to the back of her sulky by two stout chains was a large flat rock that I guessed must have weighed a couple of hundred pounds. It seemed I was expected to drag that rock around behind me all afternoon.

Caroline did not relax her demands for perfect prancing; I was still whipped if my form didn't meet her standards. Back breaking work is a misstatement as my back had nothing to do with it, but I cannot think of a comparable term that applied to my legs.

I wasn't slowed or stopped for hours. At the end of my training day, I was exhausted. She led me back to the stable, handed my reins to Elise and left without a word being said.

Only when I was tethered in my stall, were the checkreins removed along with my bit after the tethering chains were clipped on. I slept well that night.

My routine didn't vary for the rest of the week and Caroline didn't bother to speak to me, in fact, I realized that no one had. Her whip did the talking for her.

Though my training was arduous, I realized by the end of the week that my corset hurt less and I was breathing much easier. No longer was I passing out each night from exhaustion.

My eight friends stood waiting for me inside the pasture when I was placed there after my second full grooming. The big chestnut was the first to crouch down to exchange a vigorous nipple rub and big smile. The others did the same.

As before, we played together only our romp was structured not random. When Chestnut stomped her hoof, the others grouped; Tabitha with Samantha, the four who all wore white tack with black shins and the three fitted like Chestnut in pale pink rubber and bright red tack. It was only then that I realised that these ponygirls were teams and the members of each were nearly perfectly matched by size and build.

The three remaining members of Chestnut's team formed a troika abreast. Those in black grouped two by two then Dr. Vaughan's ponygirls formed a pair as did Chestnut and me. She stomped her hoof twice and they all started in unison. No speed was called for to start and we pranced as if on parade. Instinctively, I marched instep too.

We made one complete circuit of the field, paralleling the fence and halted. Chestnut nudged me towards her team. They regrouped two by two with her in the front row on the right and me in the left rear. This time when we started, it was at a trot. Her teammates still managed to prance and I struggled to do so too.

All eight exchanged nipple rubs with me after we stopped again, but Chestnut waited until all the others had their turn first. I interpreted this as their expression of approval. When we regrouped, Chestnut placed me next to her in the front row to lead us at a walk again.

I needed a rest and as if reading my mind, we stopped in the shade of a grove of stately oaks. Chestnut stayed at my side the entire time. I didn't question their reasons for singling me out. I welcomed their warm companionship. My entire week was nothing but tiresome training and exhausted sleep locked in a lonely stall, it made this day even more special.

We romped together the rest of the afternoon.

The following morning, Caroline hitched me to her sulky then climbed aboard. Though I was wearing checkreins again, these only pulled my head enough to hold it level. I wasn't driven to the hot walker, but on one of the many paths on the estate. This, despite the hills, was much easier that pulling that heavy rock or even the hot walker.

It was several days later that the black team passed us at a fast pace, pulling a light carriage. I thought nothing of it until some little while later when they stopped nearby. Caroline drew my reins to a halt and dismounted.

I had been taught to stand perfectly still while hitched up unless I was being driven, so I obediently didn't look about.

My heart stopped when I heard her greeting, "Good morning, Mistress Alison."

"Caroline," My sister coolly returned.

"Drive my ponygirl ahead of me to the track. I want to assess her progress."

I was fearful that something bad was going to be done to me, but obeyed my commands and was stopped on the flat cinder track. Alison's driver stopped the carriage beside us.

She was resplendent in a gorgeous red habit trimmed with black fur when she faced me. "How is my dear little, Gretchen?" Her smile was cruel behind her black veil. "I do hope you are enjoying your holiday here as a ponygirl, Gretchen, because you really are going to be here for a very long time. Madam hasn't mentioned you once since you left." Her gloved hands kneaded my breasts until I began to squirm.

"These turned out much better than I'd hoped for - very nice. I have brought you some presents." My sister opened her drawstring purse and brought out two shiny silver bells and a pair of pliers. In no time, the chains on the bells had been fastened to my nipple rings. She slapped each of my breasts to set them ringing.

"Yes, very nice indeed. No need to thank me. I know that you'll think of me whenever you hear your bells… Oh, I almost forgot to give you the ones for your ears." She left me for a moment after clipping another pair to my earrings.

"I've even thought to get you a much prettier tail. I know you will like it." The new tail was a mass of very fine, long braids, each with a bell on the end. There had to be a hundred.

"Caroline, fit this to Gretchen, now, please?" As my trainer dismounted, Alison removed the plastic wrap from the plug. It was a huge pear, nearly three inches in diameter and seven long. "It's already lubricated, so you should have no trouble putting it where it belongs."

I felt the driver pull out my tail and begin to work the new one up into me. It was only halfway in and hurt as my muscles stretched to accommodate the size. Worse …my bunghole began to burn terribly. The plug had to have been coated with the ginger oil grease.

"Tears of joy?" her coiled quirt wiped my cheeks. "No need to thank me so." Caroline had the plug fully inserted. It burned terribly. I felt it fastened to my harness and the centre chain put back in place.

"Give me your whip, I'll drive her." My sister mounted the sulky and started me with a savage cut on my vulnerable arse. More cuts bit painfully to move me to a full gallop. My breasts were bouncing about and the tugging bells rang loudly as did those on my ears.

She kept me at that pace an entire circuit then halted me beside the carriage. "There is considerable room for improvement, Caroline. Unless you want to be pulling a plough, I expect to see it when I return to inspect my property." With that, Alison mounted the carriage and rode off.

That afternoon, at the end of my worst ever day, Jennipher took my reins instead of one of the grooms. Instead on being placed in my stall, I was led to the grooming area in the tack room and tethered by my nose ring. Apparently, before departing, my dear sister had ordered a smaller corset harness for me, as well as, an even more severe bit that extended further down my throat. At least it was removed once I was placed in my stall. I cried myself to sleep that night.

Caroline seemed to have taken my sister's threat to heart and began to drive me harder the following morning. The pain of the tighter corset was worse than it had been the first time, and I again couldn't get enough oxygen.

In the pasture Sunday, after my thorough grooming, Chestnut seemed to sense my distress. Though they couldn't improve my situation, they did seem to sympathize with me. We didn't work out at the previous pace, but I was still pushed to perform.

Most unusually, I was fully groomed only three days after having been cleaned at the weekend. My corset was laced still tighter and Jennipher reapplied the dye makeup then injected more collagen into my lips. Marla and Elise took extra care with my mane too and braided bells like those on my heavy tail into it. Though Caroline fitted me with a bridle everyday, Jennipher applied a new one with pink and white ostrich plumes before I was led out.

Waiting was the pink team with Chestnut in the lead and a four-wheeled carriage. Beside them, Tabitha and Samantha were hitched to the two-wheeled carriage. Caroline took my reins and, with Jennipher assisting, placed me between the shafts of a highly decorated white carriage.

We formed a procession, of sorts, with me in lead and were driven to the main gate. As I waited there, it struck me – Samantha and Tabitha were Dr. Vaughan's personal ponygirls, the black team belonged to Alison. Only one logical explanation fit, my friend Chestnut and her teammates must belong to Madison.

We waited perhaps an hour as the morning mist burned off with the rising sun. The car was a Rolls Royce, the silver 'Eros' on the polished grill proclaimed that. An antique with racing green lacquer, it had a separate, open compartment for the chauffeuse. When she tended the doors, Madison stepped out in a white and gold ensemble that could hardly be described as a habit, though it was one. I expected Dr. Vaughan, but the next to remerge was Mrs. Parke dressed in cream and beige. Finally came my friend, the doctor, looking radiant in silver and black brocaded silk with black lace trim. All wore veiled hats and gloves. They opened their parasols and walked towards us.

Madison held her mother back and allowed Dr. Vaughan to reach me first. "I've had both good and bad reports about your performance here, Gretchen," she said and she began to examine me in a clinical fashion.

My legs were palpitated then my upper chest and bound arms. The doctor looked in my ears and mouth then examined all of my piercings. "This ponygirl is in excellent condition, Madam," she pronounced upon completion.

Madison came close and seemed most interested in the numerous welts that I knew striped my arse though I'd never actually seen them. "Caroline?" my trainer curtseyed.

"Has her performance been such that it warranted these punishments? I've read all of your reports and seen only highest marks. Explain please?" Madison did not seem pleased.

"Gretchen still requires to feel the whip, but a mistress drove her last week and ordered that her training be intensified. As you can see, this ponygirl's stature is no match for your fine team, Madam. Despite that, I was ordered that her performance must equal Glasgow Red's."

I saw Madison glance towards her personal team a moment. 'That's absurd."

"Those were my orders, Madam. My orders also included that little Gretchen is to wear a Mark VII bit and number ten plugs. Despite those encumbrances, I've never had a ponygirl in my care that has tried half as hard to please and do what is expected of her, Madam."

"Drive my carriage for Mother, I'll judge for myself." Madison took the whip from my trainer and mounted the sulky. She didn't wait for the others, but flicked her whip on my bum and rippled my reins.

I knew I had to perform! Quickly she moved me to a slow trot; a pace I could prance at for hours by then. She turned me onto the road that circled her estate.

I quickly judged her to be a more skilled driver than Alison. Perhaps my sweet sister would benefit from the training I was receiving. That was a pleasant thought!

It was still only mid morning when I was drawn to a halt at my stable. Jennipher was there to grasp my bit. She held me still until Madison mounted the carriage and left.

Unhitched, I was led to the tack room and tethered by my nose ring. Usually, Dr. Vaughan was there too. "You'll soon have your voice back, Erica." I saw Jennipher visibly stiffen hearing my friend address me by that name.

Dr. Vaughan, chuckled, "You heard quite correctly, Stable Mistress, this little ponygirl is Erica, soon to me Mistress of Chatsford Manor. I do hope, for your sake and the others, that you treated her fairly whilst she was enjoying her holiday here." The contents of a small syringe were injected in my throat.

"Half to three quarters of an hour and you'll have your voice back, Erica," she informed me with a smile.

The grooms and stable mistress seemed to take extra care removing my tack and suit then washing me. My hands had been left free and I waved them away when they went to remove the bells from my mane. Thankfully, they understood my wishes.

I shook my head vigorously when Dr. Vaughan told them to lace me in a twenty-inch corset. I pointed to the one I'd just worn. Jennipher cut the stitches that held the arm and wrist cuffs to it and handed it to Marla.

As they tightened, I found my voice. "Close the gap," I managed to croak.

Dr. Vaughan had brought a gorgeous ensemble of pink taffeta with white trim and accessories. I rejected the white knee boots and asked for my hooves after the grooms smoothed delicate white stockings up my legs. My request wasn't overruled.

About to cut my nose ring, I rejected that too. "I'll keep it for now, Doctor. Thank you."

"Madison will not be pleased, Erica."

"I discuss it with, Madam." Nothing could be done then about my freshly dyed makeup and my fingers had not regained their dexterity, so I asked Jennipher to put some proper makeup on my face, which she did. Nothing could be done as yet about my huge breasts, but at least my bodice accommodated them.

Together, we raised our parasols and walked to the house.

"Wait!" I stated. I walked to Madison's team hitched to the rail by the front entrance.

'Crouch down, Glasgow Red." I stood before the lead. When she did, I pressed my covered breasts into hers and shook vigorously.

"I'll not forget." Tears ran from my eyes as I raised my veil pulled her close and kissed her black lips!

"I'll thank all of the others when I can. Let them all know, Red."

"Why are you crying?" Madison demanded when I'd entered the house.

"Later, Madison, please?" Dr. Vaughan answered on my behalf. "I doubt we'd understand."

"I'll tell you something, Glasgow Red, Samantha, Tabitha and the others, the elite ones, all helped me. Perhaps you have to be there to understand…" I found a lace handkerchief in the purse I'd been given and daubed my eyes. "Just accept that they all helped me through a very … enlightening experience, Madam."

"Come, we'll dine at the pub then go home," Madison took my hand.

  

  

  

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