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My Brother's Pony Girl Pt. 01

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Carl Bradford
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My Brother's Pony Girl Pt. 01

Post by Carl Bradford »

(This story is set in a world where legalized, non-hereditary slavery is commonplace for serious crime, unredeemed debt, or voluntary self-indenture. All characters who are enslaved or have any intimate/sexual contact with slaves are 18 years of age or older. This is fiction; no one should ever be deprived of free will nor used sexually without his or her uncoerced permission.)

I did NOT intend to write another pony story, but this is another plot provided by LEE B., who asked me to elaborate upon it for him.

(Warning: This story involves sex between first cousins who were raised as brother and sister. If technical incest repels you, please stop reading here.)

Hal McDonough and his wife June ran the Running Filly Ranch, which (for a fee) trained newly-enslaved adult women to be contented pony girls. Whereas most pony girl/boy ranches imposed harsh discipline and frequent blow jobs to ensure obedience, the Running Filly took a gentler approach: its ponies were always nude and usually restrained, but not whipped or humiliated; they were treated more like prisoners than slave sluts, and there were no stallions on the ranch to mount them against their will. Strange as it may seem, these slaves were allowed much more dignity than most other people in collars. Almost the entire training staff was female, with the exception of Hal himself and, once he turned 18, his son and heir Lee. Hal permitted his son—and the occasional male slave wrangler—to have sex with their slaves, but ONLY when a slave clearly expressed a wish to do so. The same rules applied to the female wranglers, who could use strap-ons only when a pony begged for use.

Six years after June delivered her only child, Lee, her sister Martha died giving birth to a daughter, Kimberly. Unable to have more children herself, June was happy to adopt Kim, who grew up treated as if she were Lee’s natural sister, although eventually her step-mom told her the truth. In an environment with no other youngsters, the two got along well and felt considerable affection for each other. Kim was always asking her big brother to do favors, and he cared so much that he usually agreed.

Until they reached age 18, neither child was ever allowed to visit the barns, corrals, and trails where the ponies were trained. Once she went away to college, where she majored in psychology, Kim was embarrassed to discover her ignorance of the entire slave industry. Fellow students naturally expected her to know about the family business and kidded her when she admitted the truth.

That recurring embarrassment gave her an idea for her senior research project in psych. In the spring of her junior year at college, Kim telephoned home and asked Lee for a favor, but wouldn’t tell him the specifics over the phone. Intrigued, he reluctantly agreed to hear her out once she came home for the summer.

Her parents had just retired, turned ranch operations over to their son, and were frantically packing to go on an extended trip to Europe. These preparations meant that the two sort-of-siblings weren’t alone until they were driving back to the ranch after putting Hal and June on a flight to New York.

“OK, Kim, what’s so secret that you can only tell me in person?” inquired Lee.

“Lee, I need to become a pony girl for a few weeks, for the experience.”

He almost drove off the road, then asked, “Why in heaven’s name would you want to do that, Kim?”

“Oops.” She admitted, flushing with embarrassment. “It’s for my senior thesis—I need to discuss a psychological situation about which I have no previous experience. Besides, I think it’s time for me to know about the family business, isn’t it?”

Thoughts raced through Lee’s head: even given the gentle policy of the Running Filly, could his little step-sister handle the full experience of being a naked, helpless, sex object without rights, ordered around like an animal? He would have to work extra hard to protect her, but damn she was pretty. . .

“Do you realize how serious such an experience would be?” He asked. “I don’t think you’re ready for it.”

Her expression became equally tough in return. “I really need this experience; don’t make me look elsewhere to get it.”

“If that’s what you want, Sis, but we can’t keep our training license if we don’t follow normal slavery procedures. That means there are three things you’ll have to agree to: First, you’ll have to go to an actual slave market to be entered into the national registry, including getting your slave identification number tattooed inside your lower lip and slave graded. Second, you have to be legally indentured and auctioned off on a slave block like a piece of naked meat. The current minimum time in a collar is three months—you’re lucky that the Texas Legislature recently reduced that time from six months. Our agent has to buy you in an open auction like that so we don’t get accused of kidnapping free women or using slavery as a cover for prostitution. And ONLY after you’re enslaved and sold can I permit you to be trained on the ranch—the MINIMUM training time is eight weeks, but it may take longer to bring you up to our standards. Are you prepared to be a naked, collared, bound animal sweating in the sun for the rest of the summer?”

Kim was privately quaking in her shoes, but knew she had to be as tough as her brother if she wanted him to agree. “I’ve read the Texas slavery statutes, and I don’t expect any special treatment, Lee. I need the complete experience of being a pony girl.”

Lee smiled at his pseudo-sister, whom he genuinely cared about. “The only good news I have is that, IF you insist on going through with this, I will personally take you to the slave market and personally supervise your training. That doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you,” he cautioned, “But I have to be able to reassure Mom and Dad that nothing cruel or unusual happened to you. Now, I want you to think about this overnight; if you don’t want to go through with it, just say so tomorrow morning and we’ll forget about the whole thing—I’ll never tell them if you chose to stop. If you DO want to continue, we’ll draw up your self-indenture papers and plan the process tomorrow. Think of what a great project this will make for school!”

*****
It was a long night for both of them. The reality of becoming a slave struck home to Kim, who had hoped to just masquerade as a pony, but she felt strangely aroused by the idea. Her step-brother worried about psychological damage if she insisted, even though the Running Filly treated its ponies much better than most ranches. On the other hand, she was a cute young woman and even though they had grown up as brother and sister he couldn’t control an erection at the thought of having her as a naked slave to look at and play with.

The next morning they were uncomfortably silent at breakfast, until she finally burst out, “I’ll do it! But you have to make sure I’m safe. When do we start?” Lee smiled gently, and his next questions startled her:

“Are you on birth control? When was your last period?” Kim’s face betrayed her outrage at such intimate questions, but before she could protest, Lee continued, “Oh, come on, Kim. If you’re going to be a slave, I need to know everything about you to keep you safe. For example, we feed our ponies with liquid vitamins and other materials, so we have to know your hormonal levels before we put anything else into you. Besides, although the Running Filly NEVER forces its ponies to have sex, once you’re a slave, especially in a slave market, we need to ensure you’re protected against unplanned sexual encounters.”

That explanation mollified Kim, but she still flushed scarlet when she confessed, “No, I’m not using birth control—I was, but last semester I was so stressed out that I missed too many pills and gave up. And . . . I just finished my period yesterday.”

He smiled and tried to reassure her. “OK; we need to get on with this so that you’re free again in time for the fall semester. Today’s Monday, so we’ll go to the Longhorn early Friday morning. Here—I printed out a self-indenture form for you; be sure you read it carefully, and Thursday—if you’re still up for it—we’ll get the stable manager, Janis, to witness and notarize your signature while I’m out of the room to avoid even the appearance of coercion. In the meantime, I found an old video of slave yoga moves. I suggest that you view it in your room—and don’t forget to practice without your clothes, so you’re ready for Friday.”

The ensuing four days were stressful. Lee tried to pressure her to give up the idea, reminding her that he would have to bind her naked body and fondle her intimately so that she was turned on and received a good grade before auctioning. Inwardly, Kim was terrified, but determined to go through with it. And when she gyrated naked, practicing slave yoga or block positions alone in her room, she couldn’t help getting aroused by the idea that she would be exposing herself in front of a crowd of fully-clothed people! Not to mention repeating slave mantras in which she begged, very crudely, to be fucked in all her openings. Every practice session ended with erect nipples and clit as well as damp thighs.

Friday morning, they drove down to Dallas in almost complete silence, each lost in thought. Lee parked his truck in the huge parking lot of the Longhorn Slave Market. He hurried around to her side of the truck and gave her a long hug (with his hands well away from her private parts) to reassure her. Then, blushing furiously, Kim stripped down in front of him, almost tearing off her clothes before she lost her nerve. Blonde haired, blue eyed, and with magnificent boobs and buttocks, she oozed sexual attraction. Years of cross-country practice in high school and college had given her body the taut appearance that slave merchants looked for in a pony girl. Once Kim was naked in full public view, she had to kneel to be collared, then stand back up and place her hands behind her back, where he zip-tied her wrists. She was still in a public place when, unexpectedly, Lee told her to “open wide” and inserted a large ball gag. Somehow, being unable to talk amplified her sense of helplessness ten-fold, even though she had already become a naked, bound, and very horny woman who had signed her freedom away.

Her adopted brother hugged her again, but then reminded her that she needed to be aroused, as he began groping her breasts, clit, and butt. When he boldly inserted two fingers between her labia, he found she was already wet. “Somebody is enjoying being a slave slut,” he remarked with a sly smile, a comment that only increased her sense of humiliated arousal. Then he clipped a leash to her collar and led the helpless, speechless young woman into the slave market. He quickly checked her in and left her to the mercy of slave wranglers, hurrying away so she wouldn’t see his tears. Or his growing erection.

Kim went through the usual process of having her Slave Identification Number tattooed inside her lower lip, made to prance around and repeat suggestive come-ons in slave yoga, and then pose for extremely revealing and humiliating photographs to identify her in the national data base. She felt as if that camera was looking inside his birth canal and then up her anus! Everywhere she went, a slave wrangler directed her movements with a rough hand cupping her buttock and a middle finger goosing her quivering anus. All of this only increased her arousal, so that when she was tied down with her legs apart on a cold table for public viewing, she was more turned on than she could ever have imagined. Gawking visitors fondled her while making lewd comments about how much fun it would be to violate her opening. Without any acting, Kim was moaning and squirming—even after being devoxed, she silently mouthed come-ons, begged with her eyes, and tried to hump the spectator fingers that invaded her helpless body. Not surprisingly, the combination of a voluptuous body and uncontrolled arousal earned her a grade of Prime Minus. Unbeknownst to her, Lee was standing behind her head during the entire display period, and again couldn’t control his erection watching this sexy woman who had voluntarily enslaved herself to him!

Once the wranglers freed her from the display table and sprayed down her throat to restore her voice, it seemed like only seconds before she found herself waiting in line for auction. The wrangler handling her encouraged the young woman to masturbate to ensure arousal on the block, but in truth she was so turned on that no further titillation (emphasis on the “tits,” which were both shapely and erect) was necessary.

Lee had warned his step-sister that, instead of going through the main auction room, her short term of indenture meant that she would be sold at a smaller side-room; the room still seemed enormous, and she felt as if she were naked in front of thousands of masters. Kim did her best to act like a sex-obsessed bimbo to entice bids for her use. She spent less than one minute on the block before someone beyond the bright spotlights bought her for a winning bid of $5,500—again, Lee had told her that short-term enslavements brought in relatively low bids, so she shouldn’t feel insulted if she only got a small price. (Being a stand-up guy, he also told her that he would give her back 85 percent of her sale price after she was freed, with the remainder going as commissions to the Longhorn and payments for slave shippers and other fixed costs. Only later did she wonder where the original $5,500 came from, since it was a net loss to the family business.)

*****
At the time, she wasn’t thinking about money but instead worrying about the next step. The same slave wrangler who had pushed and prodded her all morning marched her down a corridor of cages to a room marked “piercing,” where without any ceremony another clothed free person clamped her boobs into a kneeling rack, disinfected her nipples (causing them to return to full erection) and clitoral hood, and stuffed a bite stick in her mouth. Then this bored-looking woman almost casually ran a very sharp, hook-like needle through each of her nipples and her hood. Large silver rings were slipped through each opening. This unexpected, intimate violation caused her to panic, fearing that someone other than her brother had bought her, but she was in no position to resist or even ask questions. She belatedly remembered that the few pony girls she’d seen since she turned 18 all had reins that ran through nippy hoops like the ones she had just acquired. She couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable that was going to be when someone tugged on the reins! At least the piercer sprayed her new wounds with some kind of disinfectant that also reduced the pain.

Piercing her breasts and hood was bad enough, but the next step was even worse. Freed from the rack but with her mouth still filled with a bite stick, she felt herself being man-handled (with his hand up her ass) towards another door that had the ominous shingle “branding” hanging over it. Kim could feel and even smell the heat as she approached a door decorated with a 9-inch wide burned-in imprint of the Longhorn logo: an outline bull’s head with two hooked horns sticking out of the sides. Clamped down with her buttocks exposed, Kim stared in a mixture of horror and relief when a huge guy showed her a branding iron that she recognized (from the sign outside her house) as her family brand, a tiny pony whose legs seemed to be running at full tilt. At least, she thought, that brand reassured her that she was indeed heading home, although she thought being branded was taking the pony girl experience a little too far! But nobody wanted her opinion. The things she did for her degree, she thought irrationally—this scene would be better in her thesis than in reality!

There was one more experience before her ass got fried, an experience she had heard about as an urban legend but never expected to witness, let alone experience. While waiting for the Running Filly branding head to reach white-hot temperature, the smith showed her the rough wooden handle on another branding iron and told her that his assistant would rub the handle against her exposed “pussy” to arouse her—with any luck, she would produce sufficient endorphins to dull the pain of her branding. Kim had often jilled herself off at school, including imagining being a pony girl, but now she got to experience the full dream—or was it a nightmare? Anyway, the repeated stroking of that handle against her already-soaked genitals really DID get her off; she was still basking in the post-climax glow when, without further warning, the smith pressed a hot branding iron against her ass. She fainted.

*****
And woke up in pain, lying face down, hands restrained behind her, on a medical bench in some place she had never seen, although she recognized Janis, the stable manager, and Bill, the ranch vet tech, when she looked over her shoulder to see who was touching her tormented butt. She deduced that “Master” Lee must have transported her home while she was unconscious. Barely in time, Kim remembered that she was now a slave, stopping her from snapping at them in a disrespectful manner. In a moment, Bill sprayed first a numbing agent and then some liquid bandage over the wound, making her feel slightly better.

She had known Janis casually for years, but now that Kim was a slave the woman displayed a completely different, controlling personality while giving no sign that she recognized her newest filly. Janis began by re-installing the same kind of ball gag that Lee had used at the Longhorn, telling her it was a reminder not to talk unless asked a direct question.
“Otherwise, slave, you will remain silent and obey all instructions instantly, got it?” Not being stupid, Kim nodded her head slowly.

“Remember to obey all orders immediately and fully—don’t think or hesitate. We won’t begin pony training for another two days, in order to allow your brand to heel. But we DO need to give you your first daily enema; enemas are standard for all ponies to reduce the need to remove butt plug tails during the training day. Besides, although we don’t usually sodomize ponies on this ranch, they all need to become accustomed to enemas in preparation for later use by their new owners.” Kim had already feared being a sex slave, but the thought of some insensitive stranger using his cock to ream her back there was alarming, disgusting, and yet somehow exciting. That thought was reinforced by the sensations she felt when she was restrained in an “X” position, straddling a flushable concrete trench where Janis gave her two warm water enemas in succession and encouraged her to void herself fully.

While she was still struggling to expel the second enema, another wrangler whose nametag read “Dawn” removed the ball gag and replaced it with a head harness that included an ordinary horse bit in her mouth. The reins were tied through a metal eye on the wall, forcing the newest pony girl to hold her chin up high. Then the wrangler inserted a large funnel into her upturned mouth, pouring a green liquid that, she explained, contained nutrients, vitamins, and “other substances you need.” Unbeknownst to Kim, her step-brother had included some interesting items among these “other substances.” He began with simple birth control medication, as Lee had told her, but over the next two weeks they added other things. . .

After two days of misery and inactivity, Kim was actually glad to have handlers tack her up and begin training her as a pony. Just as when she had run cross country in high school, the endorphins from heavy exercise both suppressed the remaining pain from her injuries and made her enjoy being a running pony.

*****
Pony training was also humiliating. Despite leather straps all over her and horseshoed boots on her feet, the most intimate parts of her body were on full display. The only difference between herself and the other pony girls was that, for some reason, she wasn’t required to wear an uncomfortably-large butt plug holding a horsetail. She was used to running long distances but found it somewhat difficult to breathe with the bustier strapped tightly around her abdomen and holding her substantial breasts up as an offering to any free person—the female wranglers gently but frequently felt her up to increase her arousal, and she also had to learn how to breathe around a bit while struggling with both exercise and arousal. She found that this combination was actually fun but began to dream about having a guy use her excited body for something other than hauling a sulky around.

Kim didn’t know it, but the green fluid they fed her three times a day had a lot to do with her sexual fantasies. Mixed in with vitamins and nutrients was the oral form of “horny juice”—estrogen and other hormones intended not to prevent ovulation but rather to make her constantly horny, eager for intimate touches and use and therefore willing to learn what the wranglers taught her in return for their fondling and more.

Sometimes, she was able to lose herself in the physical enjoyment and effort of her training. Over several weeks, however, her frustration and arousal grew. She noticed that other ponies were released from all restraints at night, and thus (presumably) could masturbate if they needed to. Kim, on the other hand, was always restrained—even at night, the bit remained in her mouth and her wrists were strapped behind her back, preventing even masturbation. It was very difficult to sleep like that.
Seeing her frustration, the female wrangler who supervised her training tried to reassure her, telling her that once her training progressed she would be freed at night. The wrangler also told her that Kim’s owner, “a really good guy,” would come to visit with her some evening and discuss her future with her. That made Kim REALLY nervous—her family had always told her that their pony girls were never forcibly used for sex, but like any Texas gal she had heard the urban legends of female slaves—and sometimes even free women undergoing slave grading—being used sexually in horrible and demeaning ways. The thought of some man coming into her stall in the dead of night, when she was unable to defend herself or even cry out, was terrifying. It kept her awake for hours despite the exhaustion of heavy exercise all day.

She had finally fallen asleep about 11 p.m. when a noise awoke her, and she saw the shadow of a large man entering her stall, then coming towards her, silently. Terrified and unable to make much of a sound past her bit, her pulse was racing when the man hugged her—and she realized that it was her brother Lee! As he held her, he chuckled quietly and asked,
“So, sis, was being a pony girl everything you had expected?”

She was furious at him for scaring her, shaking her head “no,” and he realized, “Oops; I forgot that you can’t talk. Hold still—I’ll take out the bit, but you have to promise to talk quietly—don’t want to disturb the beauty rest of the other ponies!”

As soon as the bit came out of her mouth, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against her—it may have started as a casual gesture between sibling friends, but it soon morphed into something more sexual—after all, he’d been watching his cute step-sister, naked and restrained, being a slave for weeks, while she was so sexually frustrated and alarmed by her helplessness that she couldn’t help being turned on by the first male who had handled her in weeks.

Eventually, he broke the kiss, quickly put his hand gently over her mouth, and began to pour out words in a quiet voice. “Look, girl, I know you’re mad about the piercings and branding, but I decided that I HAD to do this—it’s a normal part of becoming a pony girl, and if I HADN’T done that to you all the wranglers and other ponies would have resented it and really made your life miserable. OK?”

She sighed as he removed his hand. Having seen that all pony girls had nipple rings for their reins and brands on their asses, she had to concede that he’d been correct. “OK, I get it. But I hate to admit it—this treatment is REALLY turning me on—have you been pushing hormones into me?”

“Would I do that to my ‘sister’?” He asked, playing innocent and refusing to answer directly. Then he went on without pausing for an answer. “I was really proud of you when you went through the Longhorn. The most gorgeous, sexiest young woman in the whole place was MY sister, and I wanted to point you out and brag about you to everyone there.” She flushed, remembering how horny and NAKED she had been, but it was nice to think that her step-brother, whom she had always loved and respected, thought so highly of her.

“Anyway,” he continued, “when you first came back to the pony ranch, I had to let someone else take care of you so that neither you nor anyone else would think you were getting favored treatment. But from now on I’ll be in charge of your training, and I’ll visit you most evenings at this time so you can talk about your concerns.” He sat down beside her on her bunk, with his arm around her shoulders in a comforting manner. She felt safe and loved for the first time in weeks. (Of course, anyone who didn’t know them would see a fully clothed man holding a naked, collared, and cuffed woman, probably as a prelude to using her sexually, but she didn’t think about that as she snuggled against her big, strong, friendly “brother.”)

“And,” Lee continued, “when we’re alone like this you have permission to talk about whatever is bothering you.”

“Yes, ‘Master,’” she replied, her sarcasm making the quotation marks around the term of respect quite as evident as if her hands had been free to draw the marks in the air. “But, what’s really bothering me is being so sexualized. I was prepared for the feelings of fear and helplessness, but I didn’t anticipate being so turned on—if this were any other slave ranch, I’d expect the wranglers to use my body whenever they wanted sex, and even here, the sense of being a naked slave—which everyone knows includes being a sex slut for any free person—really gets to me. PLUS the wranglers seem to think that stroking my nipples and clitoris, squeezing my breasts and butt are some kind of reinforcement for doing what is expected of me. All of that means that I’m horny all the time; I can barely think of anything else.”

Lee hugged her gently. “OK, you’re the psych major, but doesn’t that make sense? I mean, for this summer you’re an animal, and there are only two ways to motivate an animal to learn: either punish her or reward her. Which would you rather have happen to you? To be honest, the other wranglers and I have been doing this so long that fondling a pony is automatic, a natural way to reinforce good behavior along with saying ‘Good girl’ as if you were a pet dog learning new tricks.”

“Yeah,” Kim replied, then giggled unexpectedly. “In fact, I’m your prize bitch, being encouraged to learn tricks, aren’t I? Only trouble is, now I’m in heat and I want some male dog to mount me! Not only do I have to LEARN tricks, but I feel almost as if I want to TURN tricks like a prostitute!”

“Well, in a certain sense you’re correct,” her step-brother replied. “I DON’T think of you in disrespectful terms like ‘bitch’ or ‘whore,’ but being a pony slave, even temporarily, means responding to basic needs for food, sex, security, and so on. Didn’t you ever read about Maslow’s hierarchy of needs?”

“I guess you’re right; I just never imagined that I would be the lab rat experiencing that kind of training.”

Lee cared enough for her that he didn’t want her to think poorly of herself. “Come on—you’re my little sister, not a female dog or a lab animal. This is all just part of the training you asked for--You can get through this, Kim.”

Throughout their talk, Kim was acutely aware of her step-brother hugging her, touching her elbows and thighs, and so on. He was careful not to fondle her intimately, but his gestures of reassurance also had the effect of fueling her sexual arousal. She had already been horny and scared before he appeared, but now she was acutely aware of him as a man—in fact, perhaps because he was so in control of the situation Lee seemed like more of a man than the few guys she had hooked up with in college.

“Anyway, sister-of-mine, we both need to get some rest, which means I need to put the bit back in your mouth and wrap you in a blanket so you’re warm enough to sleep. I’ll talk to you again tomorrow evening. For now, though, is there anything else you want to say?” After a brief pause, Lee leaned in as if to kiss her but stopped several inches short of her face. Unable to resist the urge for intimacy and comfort, Kim closed the gap, pressing her lips firmly against his (and incidentally her erect nipples against his chest!) A long, long kiss ensued. It may have been more about affection than sex, but it did NOTHING to calm her arousal.

Although Kim didn’t know it, that kiss sealed her future. Lee really did love his step-sister, but despite that love or perhaps BECAUSE of that love he wanted to possess her sexy body, to seduce her. He had used the same techniques of being a caring, protecting figure to seduce several other ponies-in-training, making them so eager and horny that they had begged him to make love to them—after suitable hesitation that forced them to articulate exactly what they wanted, he had in fact had sex with these women. Unlike most female slaves, who had no control over when they were used, his targets had always welcomed his attentions and begged for use. Repeatedly. He always ensured that they got as much pleasure as possible and found a way to gently end the relationships so that they went away still harboring a crush on the handsome, masterful guy who had seduced them. But those had been temporary flings in which he had been careful not to hurt or impregnate the slaves. But aving sex with his own step-sister could lead to something far more serious than a (literal) roll in the hay between a horny wrangler and a willing pony girl.

She didn’t know any of that as she tried to fall asleep, still cuffed and bitted but remembering how much she had enjoyed his kisses and hoping for another one.

*****
The next morning at daybreak, she heard her stall gate being unlocked and was happy to identify her brother’s voice: “Time to get up, pony. We’re going to start your day with the usual enema, followed by your liquid breakfast plus a few carrots.” Enemas were always embarrassing, especially enemas administered by the guy with whom you had grown up, but Lee was so gentle and respectful that it seemed perfectly normal for him to flush out her insides, even when he manipulated her nipples while doing so. Even breakfast was fun—after several weeks of almost nothing but green slime and water to drink, she actually enjoyed crunching on a few carrots, then holding her head still while he brushed her teeth.
First he tacked her up—head harness and bit reinstalled, breasts held on a shelf by her bustier, and tall leather boots on her legs. Kim was acutely conscious of the way his hands hefted her boobs and buttocks, then traced the long lines of her legs, but he never gave any indication that this touching was meant to be sexual. Next, Lee told her that it was time for the one remaining step in her pony equipment—a tail plug! Almost apologetically, he explained how the ranch ensured that the color of a pony’s tail matched her “mane”, the hair on her head and neck. After allowing the pony to grow out her hair for a few weeks, the wranglers evened off the split ends and then cut away two large patches on the sides behind her ears, using those to form the tail.

Now, this meant that Lee again tied her reins up high, immobilizing her head. Seeing her tears as he sheared her, he whispered to his step-sister, “I’m sorry I have to do this, but you won’t look bad afterwards. In fact, my beautiful sister will look even more beautiful with a long tail to match her mane.” He gave her a quick hug, finished cutting, and then released her reins, urging her to lie down and rest.

Lying quietly, Kim finally regained her composure and even began to feel grateful for her step-brother’s kindness. (Although he really did care for her, she didn’t realize that the manner in which he treated her was almost identical to his seduction technique with other ponies, convincing them that they were special and that he was looking out for their best interests so the helpless young women would fall deeply in love. Nor did she know that, unlike his other paramours, this time Lee had stopped giving her any birth control in her food! He planned to wait another month while her ovulation cycle stabilized, then seduce her when she was fully fertile.)

After waiting several hours for the glue to bond the hair to the plug, Lee came back about 1 p.m. that day to feed her a liquid lunch and then install her new tail. He snapped on rubber gloves and LIBERALLY coated her anus and colon with KY, all the while acting as if this violation was completely natural and asexual, just part of tacking up a pony. Steady pressure installed the plug up to the narrow neck, where her stretched anal sphincter tightened gratefully. Acutely aware of all the nerve endings down there, for the first time in her life she contemplated that it might actually be enjoyable to feel a large cock filling that opening! Stop that, she berated herself—if you ever say that thought out loud, Lee will think you’re the biggest slut in Texas! Two thoughts came unbidden to her mind: why do I suddenly care what Lee thinks? And would it be so bad if he wanted me as a slut? It’s not as if he’s really my sibling . . .

When he was finished, he gently led her by the reins until she could see herself in a mirror, the model of a sexy, half-clad pony girl. He praised everything about her appearance, including her breasts and the brand on her undulating rear end. She had to admit that she looked good, although she wasn’t accustomed to evaluating herself solely as “sex on the hoof” Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt a feminist shame that she had been reduced to pure sex object. But then, once again, Lee praised how her tail looked, and reassured her that by the next morning, when it was re-inserted immediately after an enema, she would hardly be aware of the butt plug at all. He took her to the ranch’s vet paramedic, who gave her another pain-killing shot for the still-tender brand on her rear end before telling her to rest again.

****
That evening, Lee returned and again fussed over and praised Kim. After another liquid supper, he gently removed all her tack, piece by piece, this time including her head harness and bit. But he cautioned her not to speak except in response to a direct question. By this time, she was almost enjoying her passive role as a valued animal who didn’t have to think, just obey instructions. She didn’t know it, but her reassured mind had stopped resisting as she slipped into a state of submission or slave mind.
When she was completely naked, part of her mind told her that she should feel embarrassment and try to cover herself up, but her step-brother continued to act as if everything were natural. He shucked off his own boots and outer clothes, revealing a set of swim trunks, and dressed like that he led her into a large shower room. He reminded her of how she had been cleaned in the “slut wash” (a term he avoided) at the Longhorn Slave Market. So it seemed the most natural thing in the world that he would cuff her hands behind her, restrain her ankles several feet apart, and use a rope to GENTLY pull upwards on her cuffs, forcing her to bend over with her breasts dangling below her. And then her owner, her beloved Lee, used a wash mitt to softly soap and wash her all over, in the process reawakening the arousal she had felt ever since she had stripped in the slave market parking lot.
Yet Lee pretended to be unaware of the sexual message his hands were conveying. He thoroughly washed and conditioned her long hair, then felt her all over while pretending to focus on ensuring that she both was and felt clean. Once again, a stiff nozzle entered her butt to flood her colon with warm water while he softly fondled her bottom, but he always seemed to stop just before she could climax.

When the shower was over, he left her bent over and immobilized while he used a hair dryer and a brush to rearrange her hair; the rhythmic strokes of the brush relaxed her, again making her feel like a helpless but pampered female animal. Once he was finished, he released her ankles and the rope pulling up on her wrists but left her cuffed. He walked her back to her stall, murmuring almost meaningless praises and reassurances. But all the time his hand firmly cupped the buttock that did not bear a brand, but the fingers of that hand occupied her butt crack, with the middle finger firmly touching her anus.

Back in her stall, Lee re-installed the head harness and bit, but Kim had become so docile that she easily accepted the additional restraints, and on command lay down on her bunk while he wrapped her in a blanket. Stroking her head gently, Lee talked to her as if she were indeed an animal. He told her that tomorrow morning, after her morning enema, he would re-insert her tail which would remain in place all day. He kissed her cheek gently and departed.

But he returned, as he had promised, late that evening. He removed the bit and allowed her to talk quietly, but all she could think to say was, “I love you and I’m pretty sure that I can do this, Lee.”

He smiled and replied, “I know you can, Sweetheart. After all that running in high school, you’re a natural as a pony girl. All you have to do is obey my instructions and you’ll do fine.”

“Yes, Master,” she replied, and this time realized that she hadn’t intended any quotation marks around Master. What the hell was happening to me, she wondered? She felt him fondling one naked breast, and she thrust her chest forward to get more contact with her step-brother. Her reward was a tight hug and the words, “I love you, pony girl.” She automatically replied, “I love you, Master.” Once again, he stopped just before kissing her, and Kim automatically leaned forward to complete the kiss.

“Time for you to get some sleep, my beautiful pony slut,” he said in a gentle, teasing tone as he re-inserted her bit. “I’ll see you at six a.m.” Kim’s head was swimming with happy feelings as she promised herself to really throw herself at him for another tongue kiss like that. Not until after he had tucked her in and left did the helpless young woman realize that she hadn’t felt insulted when he called her the pejorative term most people used for equine slaves. “Hell, I’d love to be HIS pony slut!” she mumbled around her bit while trying to fall asleep. As for Lee, he was thinking that the “horny juice” drugs he had administered orally shouldn’t have, couldn’t have made her so eager for contact this rapidly—being enslaved sometimes prompted young women to think of themselves as sexual servants, but even beyond that, apparently Kim really WANTED to be intimate with him. Which was reassuring to him—yes, he wanted his step-sister’s body, but didn’t want to feel guilty about the methods he was using. It was much easier to tell himself that she had voluntarily put herself into the situation that made her a horny slave slut.

*****
The next morning he tacked her up in full costume, and her anus easily accepted the plug. He told her that they needed to work on her stamina by having her walk and run all day long. Eventually she got tired, but still loved it whenever she heard him praise his “pony” and felt him casually running his hands over her bound body. That not only maintained her arousal at a low simmer but motivated her to try even harder for her “owner.”

In the heat of early afternoon, Lee brought Kim back to the barns, threw a bucket of cold water over her, and pushed a straw into her mouth so she could eagerly guzzle water. While doing that, out of the corner of her eye she saw a scantily clad, bound pony girl with long blonde hair sucking on a straw. She was covered in sweat and water, gleaming in the Texas sunlight. Kim realized that it was a mirror on the side of a barn, and marveled at how pretty she looked. All this exercise on a mostly-liquid diet had made her body even more tight and desirable than before. And then she noticed the handsome man in the reflection, holding a water bottle to the pony’s mouth while his jeans bulged in front. Knowing she looked so attractive was great but knowing that she had given her master a huge hard-on was even better! Unbidden, an idea appeared in her mind: how can I get him to use that thing on ME?

Lee may not have realized that she lusted after his dick, but he DID recognize the moment when his pony-girl step-sister realized how good she looked in that role. He’s seen it before in the eyes of his other paramours (pony-mours?), and promptly hugged her, telling her how beautiful she was, how she really excelled as a pony. Which was the truth—he certainly wanted her sexually, but he wasn’t lying at all about how superb she was as a pony.

Once she cooled down slightly, he took her into her stall, stripped her down, and then repeated the shower routine of the previous day, being careful to touch her only slightly, almost incidentally. For days he repeated this pattern, working her hard in the daytime and gently hugging her during his late-night visits. Her frustration and sexual arousal built up steadily; working hard as a pony didn’t do much to dissipate the emotional stress. Each evening, despite her cuffed hands, the horny young woman practically attacked her owner’s mouth, eagerly kissing and tonguing him for as long as he would permit it. She was shameless, rubbing her breasts against his shirt and trying to get friction by humping her damp pussy against the rough fabric of his jeans.

Lee had seen this behavior in pony girls before, but never to this extreme. He actually stopped administering “horny juice” in her diet, but she was so aroused by her situation (and perhaps by her own affection for her step-brother) that she continued to throw herself at her master. In a few more days, he estimated, she would begin openly asking him to fuck her. And soon after that, based on his calculations as well as periodic blood tests, she would ovulate.

One night, as he was preparing her for bed, she asked, in a plaintive, hesitant voice, “Master, would you please use a washcloth to clean my nipples, vulva, and behind? They’re not getting clean enough.”

“I’d be happy to, Love,” he replied, knowing that she was really begging for sexual contact. The next evening, at shower time, he deliberately edged her, fondling the same areas on her body. He even slid two fingers into her pussy, all of which made her moan but didn’t relieve any of her arousal.

As soon as Lee re-appeared late that evening and removed her bit, Kim put on a performance worthy of a veteran lap-dancer. She immediately began kissing and humping him, pressing her breasts and pussy against him. Even though she couldn’t use her hands, she was so aroused and arousing that in three minutes he had to pull out his cock before he came pointlessly in his jeans. Kim immediately fell on her knees and began gobbling that erection, but after only ten seconds of that he pulled her up by her collar, bent her face down over her bunk, and RAMMED his steel-hard dick into her sopping pussy. They both sighed in ecstasy, then hastily built up to a frantic rate of slamming into each other. It felt so good that, in less than ten minutes of constant coupling, he unloaded into her unprotected vagina. Even that brief period of fucking fulfilled both of their day-dreams about making love together. He had climaxed once, but she had orgasmed several times while rubbing against him and then several MORE times while he was shafting her. By the time he had regained his breath and dismounted, Lee discovered that Kim had passed out from erotic excitement and exhaustion. So he quietly mopped up the fluids and wrapped her in a blanket to recover. He didn’t even replace the bit in her mouth, fearing that she might choke while passed out.

When he returned to her stall at 6 a.m. the next morning, he found his naked, cuffed pony slave standing upright, legs spread apart, watching the entrance to her stall. She immediately rushed forward, but he stopped her with a smile and a finger signifying silence.

“I’m so sorry, Kim,” he began in a low tone, and repeatedly apologized for “taking advantage” of her while she was temporarily enslaved. He wasn’t sorry at all, of course, but wanted to ensure that she didn’t hate him for what they had done—and what he hoped to do again.

After finishing this insincere apology, he finally gestured permission for her to speak. Smiling and speaking in a low tone, Kim responded: “Don’t you dare apologize for giving me the best sex of my life, especially since I jumped YOU, not the other way around. The sexual frustration was driving me crazy, and you saved me! I had more orgasms in ten minutes last night than I’ve had in the rest of my entire life, and I want to have MORE orgasms with you. Please, please tell me that we can do that again every night that I’m in this barn, OK, Master?”

Smiling at her, he replied “I love you so much, my darling pony. Do you really want me to fuck you every night in this barn?” When she vociferously agreed, he continued. “OK, but you know that masters and ponies don’t kiss in public, so this has to remain a secret. All day, every day, you must be my obedient pony slave. At night, I’ll remove your bit and even your cuffs while I visit you at night, but you still need to submit to me, got it?”

“Oh, yes, Master,” she gushed, overcome by submissive lust. “Only, can we please leave the cuffs on sometimes?”

Laughing at her enjoyment of bondage, he readily agreed, again calling her his “pony slut.” Rather than take offense, she enjoyed that label and rubbed herself against him again.

*****
There followed a month of hard pony training every day and hard pony fucking every night. When her cycle did not reappear in August, Lee took a sample of Kim’s urine and found, unsurprisingly, that she was pregnant. Lee worried about telling her, fearing that this would end their idyllic love affair, but when he summoned the courage to tell her, she betrayed no surprise, and he later concluded that she must have noticed the changes within her own body, although he saw no morning sickness.

When he told her, she smiled quietly and asked, “do you want us to have this baby?” He smiled back, knelt down before her, and replied “Oh, God, yes, Babe.”

But, she said, “YOU get to tell mom and dad when they get home. Meanwhile, you still have several more weeks to train your pony before my indenture is up and I have to return to college. I guess I’ll have to take the spring semester off to have a baby, so perhaps you can train me to be a slave wrangler then?”

Lee was even more nervous about telling his parents what had happened. When they returned home at the end of August, he blurted to his father the story of how SHE had asked to be enslaved and SHE had asked him to make love to her, only now she was pregnant. He was astonished when his Dad, rather than becoming angry, just laughed.

“Hell, boy, didn’t you ever wonder why I call your Mom ‘my pony?’ When we met, she was a pony slave, too, and she was pregnant with you when we got married. Let’s go out to the barn and see your new pony slut, shall we?” Once he revealed that story, even his Mom, June, couldn’t really object. Together, they went out to the barn where they found Kim bedded down for the night, wearing nothing but cuffs, head harness, and bit, and already beginning to show a little paunch in her belly. Knowing what he had to do, Lee proposed to his step-sister on the spot, and they all hugged.

After a lot of caressing, their tired parents went back to the big house to crash, exhausted from their travels. Pony and master stayed right where they were and made love yet again.
When her indenture expired, Kim was free to wear clothes again, although she moved into her fiancé’s room at the big house and worked on writing up her experiences until it was time for her to return to college. The last night before she departed, she whispered that “I’ll still need some training as your pony when I come back from college.”
“Don’t worry,” he replied with a smile, “I’ve still got all your tack including your beautiful tail. And if you’re too far gone with your foal, little pony, I can always mount you where your tail belongs.” They rolled over into a tight embrace and kiss.

(To be Continued)
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Re: My Brother's Pony Girl Pt. 01

Post by jeepster »

Awesome story! Hope you keep writing pony slut stories cause you do them really good!
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Re: My Brother's Pony Girl Pt. 01

Post by imreadonly2 »

I LOVED LOVED LOVED this story. A very hot idea, wonderfully written. As always, when I feel inspired, I want to write more. :-)

I have to say that of all the changes that occurred, the one that messed with my head the most was my brand. From my stall, I could see my old bedroom window, which still had a pink decal of the running filly logo my daddy put in the window when I was a little girl. I LOVED LOVED LOVED the logo, and had had it sewn into my grade school backpack and several of my sweaters.

Now, the logo seemed to me to be everywhere: on the arch above the front entrance to the house, burned into the barn doors, and even on the troughs I ate my food out of. But the most constant reminder of my new status was the "cute" Running Filly logo burned deep into my ass, where I felt it with every step. All the other ponies had the same brand as I, which meant that I was constantly reminded of what my own bottom looked like whenever I looked at one of them.

I had been proud of the pink pony on my grade school backpack, which marked me as the daughter of the owners of the Running Filly Ranch. The brand, however, marked me as the property of The Running Filly Ranch. Every time I looked at the house, or saw the logo, I was reminded that the adorable bedroom I had grown up in was no longer mine, and I was not the owner's lovely daughter, but chattel that had been registered, auctioned, and appropriately "marked".

Yup! No one was going to steal this little filly, now that she'd had her lip tattooed, and butt branded. Yee-haw!

I couldn't be angry with Lee for butt branding me. The ranch had to follow standards procedures to keep their license, and I had demanded the 'complete experience.' As my new owner, Lee had ordered my branding, and I wondered if checking the box on my registration sheet had given him a little rush of power. Regardless, I knew that deep down I knew it was 'tough love' for my own good. The brand would make me harder to rustle, and more importantly, help me feel like part of the heard. I was a pony girl now, the property of The Running Filling Ranch. That meant that I needed to be tatted, and have the logo I had found adorable when I was seven sizzled deep into my hide, while my pearly white teeth dug deep into the well-chewed rubber bit.

Every morning at breakfast, Lee and my Daddy would scan the Daily Stock Report, which, of course, had the Running Filly logo on the top of the page, or the screen, since Lee usually read it online using his iPad. Even though Daddy wasn't there, every morning I watched Janis print out a copy of the stock report and bring it to the house for review. It was deeply humiliating, knowing that I was banished from the breakfast table, and was now simply a line item on the morning report. Seeing my distress, Janis would occasionally stop to read it in front of me, and give me a little wink before she brought it into the house.

"I think the new filly's time could be a little faster," Janis said to Dawn. "Make a note on the stock report that I'd like the trainers to use a little more whip." Lee must have signed off on it as he enjoyed his morning blueberry pancakes, because that very day my butt felt the lash.

"Your brand turned out real nice, girl," Janis would say, stroking my butt cheek. "It's so hot, it's SMOKING!" The smirk on her face made it clear that Janis was enjoying my training, and my fall from daddy's little princess to livestock under the wranglers command.

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