The Stallion - Champion's Reward Part 2

[ZeeChromosome]

Part Two of Isabelle and Sandy's story.
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"Ma'am, your visitor's pass has been updated."
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Isabelle was standing in front of the betting booth with her heart beating wildly. What had she done? What was she going to do? What could she do? She took the visitor's pass from the clerk with numb fingers, almost fumbling it. Then she just stood there, unable to move. She felt like she needed to run away... but something was holding her back.
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As she hesitated, the man behind her said, "Hey Lady, you done?"
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She quickly moved aside and out of the crush before the booths clutching her updated pass card. Since pony racing was a slavery operation, security was very tight and everyone at the track needed a security pass on a lanyard around their necks. Anyone without one was assumed to be an escaped slave or, even worse, an abolitionist and treated accordingly. Isabelle quickly put the lanyard back around her neck and went out into the concourse to meet Mary and her friends. 
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"At least Mary doesn't know," she thought, "I've been very discreet. Not that it matters, of course, I'm not going through with it. I'll just go down to the stables and let them know that. That's what I need to do."
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As she exited onto the concourse, she saw Mary standing and chatting with Tasha and Abigail near one of the windows. Spotting her, Mary waved her over. Isabelle wasn't sure how to extricate herself from this sticky situation without revealing why she needed to go down to the stables. Mary solved the problem for her by telling her that she needed to rush off, but she had so much fun together and the surely MUST do this again sometime soon.
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"Oh, yes, of course," Isabelle replied, "I need to get back to town, too. I might be on call this evening!" Then she quickly turned and marched off... in the exact opposite direction from the parking lot.
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The three women watched her disappear into the crowd and Tasha said, "Mary, I love your friend, but does she really think we don't know exactly what she's up to? How do we handle it, she's going to need emotional support afterward."
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Mary nodded her head and responded, "Leave it to me. I'm her friend. We'll have to play it by ear. The Double H has a minimum of a 24-hour contract for their stallion breedings, so she'll be down there until tomorrow evening at a minimum. 
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"Unless she balks."
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"True, but I don't think she will. I'll call Monica and give her a heads up so she knows what she's dealing with and plan accordingly. Let's go over here so no one can listen in." The three jolly conspirators quickly moved to an uncrowded area.
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In her borrowed office, the Double H Ranch's customer satisfaction representative Boss Monica was watching a security feed from one of the race track's many security cameras. Unbeknownst to most visitors to the tracks, each and every visitor's pass contained a locator chip that enabled authorized users to locate anyone on the grounds. Her screen was showing an attractive brunette wearing a blue dress weaving her way through the post-race crowds on one of the lower concourses. 
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"Hmm," she thought, "Not bad, not bad at all. I've never seen her before, but I'm looking forward to seeing her in pony boots. And Hammer will definitely be pleased."
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Monica then shifted her view to locate a different patron and made a small frown as she watched a large woman wearing a pink tracksuit arguing with a security officer. Monica chuckled in amusement. It appeared that one of Hammer's obsessed fans had lost her bet. It was still a winning bet, but she hadn't won the champion's reward breeding and that seemed to upset her mightily. "She should just take her $20,000 in winnings and go home," she thought. "In fact, please go home in case the winner changes her mind, Hammer hates you and you're smelly. The point is to reward him for a running a good race, not to upset him by making him service your nasty ass."
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Although technically slaves had no choice regarding who they had sex with and would do as they were told, smart slavers knew that they still had feelings and that those feelings mattered. That might not count for much in most situations, but in the racing business fractions of a second mattered. Nobody wanted to race with an angry or resentful pony. They weren't coddled or pampered, but every effort was made to ensure that they didn't feel oppressed or abused. 
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A reward should be a reward, not a punishment. Monica snickered at the thought. Servicing that woman was definitely a punishment.
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Her phone rang and she looked down at it. "I wonder what Mary Winters wants?" 
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"Hello Mary, good to hear from you. Is it important? I have an appointment with a new client in a few minutes."
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"She's wearing a blue dress."
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Monica froze slightly, then responded in a very neutral tone. "You know I can neither confirm or deny that, right? We guarantee anonymity."
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"I do know that and I don't want you to break confidentiality. However, hypothetically speaking of course, suppose someone came to the tracks with a friend of hers and wanted to ensure that she had a good time. Suppose further that this hypothetical friend... never mind, time is short, here is what you need to know in order to make an effective sales pitch tonight. Otherwise, you-know-who is here and she's mighty determined, as you know."
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Monica nodded, "Go on..."
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In-processing:
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A few minutes later, there was a knock on Monica's door. When Isabelle entered the room, Monica smiled and stood to shake the hand of her next acquisition. The woman who had just entered her web was quite attractive and appeared to be in her mid-30's. She had shoulder-length dark hair, blue eyes, and was of average height. She also seemed to have very nice legs, which Monica thought were going to look very good in pony boots. She was sweating and a bit flushed from the walk across the hot parking lot and seemed to be slightly out of breath, as well.
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Isabelle came to a stop. "Oh hi, I'm looking for someone named Boss Monica?"
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"That's me, why don't you take a seat. You must be the smart bettor that bet on Hammer to win. May I see your ticket, please?"
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Isabelle handed it over and Monica scanned it and put it in a folder. Then she slid a few papers over the surface of the desk toward the younger woman. "I've got your contract here, would you like to look it over?"
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Isabelle looked at her suspiciously, folding her arms across her chest. She had heard all the horror stories about slavers who had tricked or trapped young women into signing themselves into slavery and had no intention of signing a single anything while in this office, especially not some kind of "contract."
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"I'm sorry, I don't need to sign a contract, I have no interest in participating in anything called a 'breeding', she said frostily, "I only came down here because I wanted to let you know that so you weren't waiting up for me."
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Monica gave the girl her most endearing false smile. She so loved playing the spider and the fly game, especially when the fly had no idea what the web was. "Tell you what, why don't you just listen to my proposal and then make up your mind, is that all right? Since the bet was so high this time, I'm also authorized to offer you a free 48-hour weekend at the Ranch as well. Did you enjoy watching the races?"
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Isabelle really had enjoyed the races and she told her so.
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"Well then, wouldn't it be fun to learn how to drive a cart? Or you could visit with a friend and they could drive. Do you know anyone who has experience driving a pony cart?"
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That did sound like fun to her. She had imagined riding in a cart being pulled by the Hammer, watching his powerful body from just inches away as he trotted down the path with his mane flying in the wind. She had only seen him from a great distance through her binoculars, but to actually be in close proximity like that, for miles and miles... she sighed. Down on the track today, she had only seen him for a few brief minutes. But if she was also being offered two whole days with him as well, wouldn't that be wonderful? They could talk while he pulled his cart, maybe they could stop at a picnic area and kiss. It would be wonderful. She could add some light into the darkness of his slavery, give him hope to see him through to the end... maybe even mentor him when his indenture was over and help him get back on his feet!
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Monica said nothing, watching as various expressions flickered across her prey's face, wondering what ridiculous romantic notions were flowing through her mind.
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"So a whole two-day weekend, together? Just me and Hammer" 
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"It doesn't have to be a weekend, it can be any two days of the week," Monica replied, completely ignoring half of the question. "The offer is valid for you and one guest, it comes with two nights of guest accommodations. Meals in the ranch restaurant or cafeteria you would have to pay for yourself. Doesn't that sound great? We call it a "ranch" but it's very much a high-end resort type of atmosphere."
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"Oh my, that does sound nice. Do you know Mary Winters? She's the friend who invited me to this event and got us seats in the luxury box, can she come with me?"
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Monica smiled brightly at her, this was going to be too easy. "Of course I know Mary, we see her all the time!"
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Isabelle reached for the documents in front of her, then her smile faltered. "Oh, then she'll know I was here. She has no idea where I am right now! If I sign up for the weekend, she'll know!"
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Perhaps is wasn't going to be that easy. "Nonsense, dear, just tell her you signed up for our deluxe 48-hour package of cart training and two nights at one of the cottages. She'll never figure it out. The two of you will have so much fun. Just have a quick look at those documents, they're actually quite simple, it's just a waiver of certain rights and responsibilities while you're in our care for the next 24 hours and only for the next 24 hours. What this is is what is called a "Free In Name Only" contract, all it does is place you under our control for the next 24 hours, it doesn't change your status as a free woman at all."
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Isabelle hesitated again, then reached for the documents. They seemed pretty straightforward. "So everybody rewarding a champion signs one of these?"
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"Correct, there are two free women here right now who have signed this exact document. Tomorrow all three of you will leave out those doors, hopefully extremely satisfied. If we were going to trick you in some way that would be pretty stupid of us, you are a customer and if we mistreated customers, then we would soon go out of business. Just sign here, here, and... here."
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Isabelle looked more closely at some of the provisions of the contract, leafing through it. If Tasha and Abigail had both done this before, it was probably quite safe. Although her friend Mary surely had no idea where she was, she would definitely notice if Isabelle didn't meet her for dinner tomorrow.
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But one provision gave her pause. "What does 'under slave discipline' mean?" she asked. 
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"All it means is that we can use physical means to control you if you cause problems. It's just an insurance clause to protect our property. You don't think we want to risk Hammer getting injured, do you? He's extremely valuable property and one of Mistress Harriett's most prized possessions."
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Isabelle agreed that Hammer needed to be protected. He was so dreamy and... she stopped herself. What was she doing? She was essentially going to force an enslaved young man to have sex with her! It was wrong, it was immoral, she just couldn't do it. She quickly slid the papers back onto the desk.
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"No, no, I'm sorry, I just can't do it, I just can't," she said hurriedly, gathering her things and starting to stand. "I just can't do this, it's wrong and immoral, I just can't participate in this at all, I'm sorry."
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Monica had no intentions of giving up.
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"Well, if you really are determined to pass this chance up..." Monica looked back at the screen in front of her and made a sour face, "One moment, please don't leave yet. We'll need to notify the second place bidder quickly before she goes home, she usually storms out when she loses a bet." Isabella's mind flew to the sweaty woman in the pink tracksuit, her would-be rival. Heart pounding with tension, her hand twitched toward the pen lying next to the FINO contract, but she couldn't do it. She just couldn't sign this document. She had spent her entire life despising and avoiding having anything to do with slavery and... Monica picked up the walkie-talkie on her desk and thumbed it. "Hey Caleb, we're going to need the extra-wide belt and the reinforced breeding bench anyway. And lock Hammer's bit on, she always tries to stick her tongue down his throat, you know how much he hates that..."
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"I'll do it!" Isabella couldn't believe what had just come out of her mouth. But she had to say it, she had defeated her rival in the betting booth she damn well wasn't going to just give up her man now!
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Monica stopped talking and turned back to Isabella. "You will?"
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"Yes!"
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"Well then, sign right here. Caleb, never mind, the original winner, yes, the pretty girl in the blue dress who just came in, has decided to move forward. Please get everything ready."
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Isabella quickly signed with a shaking hand before she could change her mind. There! She was committed now. She had just sold herself into slavery! A cold eerie feeling washed over her at that thought. She had spent her entire adult life knowing that she was a prime target for slavers and now she had just walked into their den of iniquity and sold herself willingly.
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Monica smiled, she had seen this reaction before. "Don't worry sweetie, FINO contracts are pretty airtight, you'll be here in this office getting dressed this time tomorrow. Now give me your visitor's pass and strip!" Her demeanor had suddenly changed from "eager-to-please customer service representative" to "slaver" in the blink of an eye.
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"Strip? Here? Now? Why?" Isabelle spluttered, "Shouldn't we do that at the hotel room?"
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"Here and now. There is no hotel room, we're going to be breeding you right here in the stables. At this moment you are effectively a slave and you're wearing clothing. You are not permitted to wear clothing, you are a slave." Technically that wasn't true, but Isabella's unfamiliarity with slavery meant that she didn't really understand that. Slowly she handed over the visitor's pass. Now she was trapped. She could now no longer access any of the gates in the racing complex... and there were a lot of gates.
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Monica placed a plastic container on the desk. "Jewelry first, put it in here. I'll photograph it so we have a record in case anything goes missing." Isabelle removed her diamond earrings and placed them in the box, followed by her diamond tennis bracelet, her gold watch, and her necklace. It was a small thing, but now she felt that she no longer appeared to be an upper-class race attendee, merely a free woman wearing a casual dress. Her legal status having been stripped from her, she was now cooperating in stripping away the symbols of that status.
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"Purse." She placed her purse in the box and Monica put it behind her desk out of reach. Isabelle watched it go with rising panic. Her phone and car keys were in there, she needed them! They were the tools with which she exercised her freedom. The freedom she had foolishly signed away!
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"The dress is next, take it off." Monica's voice carried the calm authority of someone who expected to be obeyed and had the physical and legal ability to make it stick. Still, Isabelle hesitated. "Izzie, you take off that dress right now or I'll have three ranch hands in here to strip you by force in 2 minutes." Boss Monica reached for her phone and her eyes narrowed, "Three MALE ranch hands."
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Izzie's eyes flew open and she quickly stood and pulled the dress over her head.
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Monica leaned back in her chair, admiring the sight. Izzie really was a attractive woman and was in excellent physical condition for a girl filly age. Hammer was going to enjoy this one and she had already planned a scenario to ensure that Izzie did too. She might even become a repeat customer. For some women, a pony breeding was a one-time bucket list sexual fantasy item. But some came back again and again, often developing a favorite stallion.
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"Fold it neatly and place it in the bin." Izzie did so and then took a step back as Monica continued, "I like your dress, it's very nice."
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"Thank you."
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"I like your bra, too. Take it off."
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When Izzie hesitated again, Boss Monica reached for the riding crop sitting on the desk. It had been there the whole time, but Izzie, who had never been a slave before, simply failed to notice it. Upon entering a room, slaves reflexively mark the location and status of every punishment implement. She quickly removed her lavender lace bra and, then, since it didn't seem to matter any more, her matching panties and placed them in the box. She stood awkwardly trying to cover her breasts and bush, as if that would make her any less naked. Boss Monica removed the panties from the box and placed them on the desk, arranging it so that the prominent wet spot on the crotch was clearly visible to both women. She then looked down at the stained panties, looked back up up at Izzie, and quirked an eyebrow at her. Isabelle felt the flush of shame quickly climbing her cheeks. When she was a free woman wearing clothing, her arousal was entirely concealed, and it wasn't anyone's business but hers. It was private, intensely private. And Boss Monica was now displaying it openly because slaves do not have privacy.
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"Shoes next, then stand up straight with your hands at your sides, I need to get a look at you." With only the briefest of hesitations, Izzie did so, then tried to look anywhere in the room but at her tormentor.
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Boss Monica rose from her seat and came around the side of the desk. Izzie couldn't bear to look her in the eye, as she felt terribly embarrassed and humiliated. Although the two women were the same height now that when Izzy was no longer wearing heels, the fact that Boss Monica was a free person wearing clothing while she was a naked slave made the other woman seem so much larger than her. Also, the fact that Monica had picked up the riding crop and was now running the tip up and down the new slave girl's body, turning her this way and that with it.
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"Nice breasts, I like them. I liked your lovely dress and your lacy bra - very classy by the way - and I like your pretty breasts, too." Izzie was glad that she had had them tightened up a couple of years ago. She was still a single woman and she needed to be competitive. With so many naked slave girls around these days, Isabelle, like many other free women, had become very aware of areas in which she didn't measure up to 25-yr-old slave girls. One of those areas was her breasts, which had begun to sag a bit in her early-30's. Now, although not large, they formed a perfect teardrop shape that Boss Monica apparently found quite pleasing to the eye.
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And to the touch! Izzie made a startled noise when Monica reached forward and began kneading them while speaking to Izzie softly. Gone was the firm commanding tone, replaced by soothing, almost lilting croon. "Hmm, yes, very nice, you're going to make an excellent pony. You're going to be so sexy in your pony girl leathers. So sexy, so fine, so desirable. When Hammer sees you, he is going to be very, very pleased. Remember why you're here, my dear. You want him, I can see that, it's been written all over your face since you came through my door. Your arousal is on display in the middle of my desk. And now, sweetie, now you're going to have him. It's going to happen, events have been set in motion by your previous owner, Ms. Cohen. Your current owner, the Double H Ranch, is obligated to carry out her wishes... regardless of what this pony slave thinks she can decide."
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"Mmmph.." Izzie swallowed a moan and bit her lip, it was all true, her arousal, quite forgotten during her shame-faced striptease, was making itself known to her again as it pushed against her will power, rising up from the depths of her being. The Boss's gentle petting of her nude form was sending tiny tingles up from every part of her that she touched. "She sure knows her way around a woman's body," she thought.
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"Good girl. Now you're entirely naked, but that's not naked enough. Kneel." Boss Monica continued in that soothing, hypnotic voice, gently pressing down on Izzie's shoulder. Slowly Izzie took a knee and then another one, kneeling before the Boss. There was a rustling sound behind her and the Boss said "take your lovely hair and lift all of it up on top of your head, slave." She did so, exposing her neck to the cool air. She then felt the wide leather collar placed around her neck and felt the clasp in the back snick shut. "There, honey, now you're no longer entirely naked, you are now slave naked... or you will be once we finish shaving off that inappropriate free woman's bush. Your pony name is "Pretty Dizzie", by the way. I think it's cute."
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Monica then cuffed the kneeling woman's ankles and wrists.
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"Now then, stay down, turn around and face the door." Struggling to move on her knees with her ankles bound, Dizzie did so. Her heart was pounding is a combination of terror and arousal. How had this all gone wrong, she just popped in to decline the breeding! She should be on her way home right now, driving her car with the keys in her purse. But now she no longer had clothing, she no longer had keys, she no longer had a purse!
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"Good girl," Boss Monica said. Swiping the soiled panties off the table, she walked over to a corkboard on the far wall. Dizzie hadn't noticed it when she entered because she was facing the woman behind the desk. Prominently displayed on the board were two pairs of panties. Like Isabelle's panties, each was soiled with the evidence of arousal. Beneath one was the name "Pretty Ditsy" on a piece of paper. Beneath the other was written "Pretty Daisy." Above each one was the name of one of the Double H Ranch's stallions. The Boss tacked up Isabelle's panties beneath the name "Golden Hammer" and wrote "Pretty Dizzie" on a piece of paper below it. "I need to hang these up to dry so they don't go in the box and soil your nice blue dress." she told the kneeling pony girl. Dizzie was mortified and immediately began protesting loudly, "Hey now, you cannot..." But instead of the voice of an authoritative professional woman righteously protesting a grievous wrong, all she heard was a horse's whinny.
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She was shocked that she had just whinnied and forgot all about the panties. She just whinnied! People don't whinny, animals whinny! Monica leaned down to look the kneeling pony in the eye while grasping her hair gently. "That's right, honeybunch, the collar has electronics in it that cancel out any Human words you accidentally make and converts them into pony sounds. Isn't that clever of us? It keeps you from getting in trouble for acting above your station. Before we had these things, we had to give our new ponies lots of swats when they tried to speak. We really do have your best interests in mind."
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Monica knocked on the door and immediately a young woman entered. She was young, really young and wearing Daisy Duke shorts and a Western shirt tied up in a knot under her generous breasts. She entered the room with some tack and dropped it on the floor, ignoring Dizzie kneeling right in front of her. Apparently (almost) slave-naked slave girls were nothing new to her, despite her age.
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"Hey Boss, this the new pony?"
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"Yes, her name is Dizzie and she's a new acquisition. She has no training and will have to be taught everything. Her previous owner, Doctor Isabelle Cohen, wanted us to breed her to Hammer tonight as his reward for winning the race and then give her some beginner cart training tomorrow. So use the crossed-arms binder for her breeding session." Kneeling on the floor, Dizzie is stupefied at what has just happened. Her name is "Dizzie" now, Dr. Isabelle Cohen is her "previous owner". Dizzie is going to be bred to a stallion and she has no say in the matter. All the decisions have already been made by her previous owner, the free woman who just sold her into slavery. It was all so disconcerting. 
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"As usual, Sandy, the previous owner has requested our absolute discretion and her name is not to be mentioned."
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"Got it, Boss." Dizzie was relieved to hear that her "previous owner" had remembered to ask for anonymity.
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"You can use the office to get her ready. Let me know if you need any help."
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Sandy quickly took charge of the new pony, hobbling the kneeling slave girl and then pulling her arms into an arm binder with her arms across her back, hands gripping elbows. The arm binder was a leather sleeve that fastened tightly around her forearms and secured at either elbow. Dizzie realized that she was now helplessly bound and unable to do anything for herself. First she lost her freedom, then her keys and her phone, her clothes, her voice, then the use of her feet, and now her hands. She was utterly helpless and under the control of two complete strangers. How had she fallen so far and so quickly? Sandy cooed and stroked the new pony to calm her and gentle her. She complimented Dizzie's previous owner for training Dizzie's flexibility enough for her to wear an arm binder.
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"Your previous owner was wise to ensure that you would be ready for this," Monica said. "Did she play pony games with her boyfriend? Did she allow him to bind her, make her helpless so he could ravish her?" Isabelle had never done anything of the sort and Dizzie snorted angrily at this impertinent girl who would say such things! Isabelle would never... oh wait, she just had! Monica held her down on her knees firmly until her outburst had passed and she could see the realization in Dizzie's eyes.
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"That's right Dizzie," she said, emphasizing the name, "Doctor Isabel Cohen would NEVER have done such a thing. She was a strong professional woman who looked men right in the eye and told them where to get off, didn't she?"
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It was true. Dizzie nodded.
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"Well now, there's no reason for YOU to worry about such things, is there Dizzie? Doctor Cohen had to worry about appearing strong and authoritative every day. She needed to project an image, she needed to be assertive, she needed to be able to demand respect." Monica had been doing this job for fifteen years now and she drilled right in to Dizzie's psyche with ease. "Ponies don't need to worry about such things, do they? No they don't. Ponies just need to be obedient and everything will be taken care of, won't it?" Again, Dizzie had no defense. Boss Monica was 100% correct, Dizzie just needed to be obedient and she would be rewarded. Soon she was going to be rewarded with a breeding session with the most handsome and powerful racing stallion she had ever seen. Her heated pussy had begun to cool during the interview and stripping, but now it began to dilate as her outer labia filled with blood and began to puff out, preparing for the plunging rod of Hammer's breeding power.
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"Now, are you going to be a good girl Dizzie? Can I release you now and you'll stay put?" Dizzie nodded. "Good girl," Monica cooed and kissed Dizzie on the forehead while brushing her cheek, "You are such a goo-oo-d little pony." It was such a loving and gentle act that Dizzie simply leaned in to the caress like she really was a good little pony. She hadn't been touched like that in so long. Then Monica stood and told Sandy "Her owner told us to give her the high pony topknot like that singer has, the one who tried to copyright that hairstyle."
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"Oh, I love her!" Sandy exclaimed as she began to gather Dizzie's mane into a ponytail on top of her head. "Do you think she'll be finding herself in front of a cart soon? I heard she was having a little trouble with a copyright lawsuit."
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Monica smiled a slaver's smile, the smile that means they're contemplating the downfall of a high-status woman into slavery. "We'll see. Usually enslaved former celebrities are bought by fellow celebrities. I'll bet there are plenty of overweight and overage music industry executives who would be delighted to add a 19-year-old hottie to their pony herds."
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"Oh well, I'd love to have her pulling my cart, maybe they'll send her to us for training. Wouldn't that be a treat?"
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Once finished with the high ponytail, Sandy asked "Where am I taking her?"
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"You're in Stall 7B," replied Monica, "Have fun and be good."
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"This is it," Dizzie thought, "I'm finally going to get to meet him! We're on our way there right now!"
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Sandy lengthened Dizzie's hobble, clipped a lead on collar, and led her out the door. Dizzie was too stupefied to resist. "What have I done?" she thought. Surely they weren't gong out into the common area where there were people walking around! She started to balk and Sandy an encouraging little spank on the bottom.
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"Come along now, we need to get you ready for Hammer." Sandy then led Dizzie out of the small office into the outer bay area by her leash. Despite the hour, the hall was quite busy, with people bustling about and doing... work. Nobody paid any attention to yet another random pony slut being led about on a leash.
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"They see naked women being led around on leashes every day," thought Dizzie. It seems so surreal to her that mere minutes ago, she was a respectable free woman wearing clothing who had entered the office through the door, using her hands, hands that were now trapped behind her in the leather arm binder. She couldn't even open doors for herself now, she was entirely at the mercy of this teenage high-school graduate holding her leash.
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Sandy led her to an alcove containing a squat toilet, which was something that Dizzie had never seen before. Sandy then guided her down into a squatting position and clipped her leash to a ring in the wall, trapping her in that position. "Time to go potty, sweetie," she said, stroking Dizzie's back. When Dizzie objected, Sandy asked if she planned to hold it for the next 24 hours. Defeated, Dizzie let loose a stream of urine. At least she was facing the wall and didn't have to look at peoples' faces while shaming herself like that. But the next thing that happened shocked her. Sandy asked her if she needed to poop and she quickly shook her head "no."
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"Now THAT is a bridge too far," she thought. She is NOT pooping in front of these people with zero privacy like an animal. This time, Sandy didn't try to convince her. She just grabbed a hose from the wall and washed Dizzie's bottom with warm soothing water... then stuck it in her butt. Dizzie squealed and tried to rise, but all she did was make a whinnying sound and pull on the tight leash.
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Sandy reassured her with some calm words. "You need to be cleaned out, honey, for hygienic reasons. Ponies can't clean themselves and if we don't do that, they might all kinds of health problems. Your previous owner was a doctor," she said, continuing the polite fiction that Dr. Isabelle Cohen remained a free woman, "so you must understand that this is for your benefit. We're only doing what's best for you."
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Sandy then pulled the hose out and ordered "Now squirt!" Dizzie did so, relieved that the unexpected colonic was over. Sandy put the hose back in her butt.
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"One more for good measure," she said. Dizzie was feeling intensely humiliated by the whole thing. She has just sold herself into slavery, had all her status and possessions taken away, been cuffed and collared, led around like a slave girl - which she most assuredly was not - and then forced to relieve herself in a room full of people. It seemed like most of them were ignoring her, but she was certain that there was at least someone pointing and laughing. Maybe even taking pictures!
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Once she dried Dizzy off, Sandy led the shell-shocked pony toward stall 7B. In her dazed and confused mind, she suddenly began to view the collar and leash as a comfort, rather than the degrading insult that she was supposed to consider it. Sandy was in charge, Sandy was keeping her safe, Sandy would tell her what to do next. All Dizzie had to do was follow along. Her steps became less uncertain as she began to place her trust n the young groom.
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Despite the strangeness of the situation, Dizzie was thrilled. She was on her way to meet him right now. They'll probably let her in to his stall and he'd look up from his book and smile at her, knowing that he was about to make love to a beautiful free woman. He would take her in his strong arms and kiss her gently, then swoop her off her feet onto his bed, kissing her passionately...
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Sandy guided her into an empty stall containing only an equipping frame and an odd bench-like contraption. Nobody was there to meet them, was is some kind of mistake? Is he late? Is he hurt? Does he need a doctor? She's a doctor! Oh wait, no she's not, she's a pony with her hands cuffed behind her back, no longer an important person who saves lives. In fact, she wasn't even a person any more, she was livestock.
-
Seeing her sag in disappointment, Sandy quickly reassured her. "Don't worry, sweetie, he'll be here, he's just resting now. Stallions need to rest after the races while Sandy prepares his filly for him, he'll be here soon. But first..." Sandy turned Dizzie around and backed her toward the equipping frame. Once she had the pony secured to the X-shaped rack by her wrist and ankle cuffs, she went to gather some things from a large bin sitting by the wall. Standing comfortably with her arms raised and her legs together, Dizzie looked around the room. There were a number of different leather items on the walls and she recognized a complete set of pony girl tack. "I must be in someone else's room right now." Perhaps the other pony girl is somewhere servicing race fans against her will. It made her sad to think that these beautiful athletic girls had to do such things. Of course, Dizzie was different since she was doing this of her own free will, not like a poor degraded pony slut, bent over something and... her eyes suddenly went to the odd bench-looking contraption the corner and she realized what she was looking at. It was a breeding bench! She had heard the word mentioned but had failed to make the connection. And if the tack and the breeding bench weren't there for the regular pony girl, then they were there for... "Hey wait a minute!" she shouted. But all that came out was a surprised snorting sound.
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Sandy was now standing back in front of her with her arms akimbo, looking up at her outraged face and grinning madly. "Just figured it out, dincha? I knew you would! You're a smart girl, but you don't really know anything about the business of human ponies. Hammer's gonna be here, just like we promised. And he's gonna breed you, just like we promised. And you're going to LIKE it, just like we promised. But you're going to do it the RIGHT way, bound face down to a breeding bench, dressed in pony gear, like a good pony girl. Honestly, we don't get a lot of newbies like you who have no idea what they're getting into. But we do get them, and I've been standing here for a couple of minutes now waiting for you to figure it out. The look on your face is definitely one of the perks of this job."
-
She laughed, but not in a mean way, "Don't worry honey, you're going to have one of the best nights of your life. And tomorrow you and I are going to have so much fun doing cart training."
-
"Cart training?" wondered Dizzie, "Did I really sign myself up for that?" When she had agreed to the terms, she had imagined herself sitting in a cart, wearing elegant riding apparel and holding the reins of a powerful and beautiful stallion and he jogged around the track with his perfect glutes flexing in front of her face. But now she realized that the pony being trained tomorrow was HER! Someone else was gong to be sitting in a cart pulled by Dizzie, and Dizzie's bare bottom was going to be the exposed naked bottom being paraded around the track for all to see. Her face paled as she realized that tomorrow, everyone was going to see her prancing around the track naked and afraid, with her breasts and pubic bush on display. She started to open her mouth to protest again, momentarily forgetting that she could only make pony sounds, but Sandy quickly stepped up to her and put her hand to Dizzies mouth.
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"Shush, girl! You're worried about being seen tomorrow aren't you?" Dizzie nodded, eyes wide in fright. Everyone would see her, her reputation would be ruined! Her friends, family, co-workers, they would all...
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"Stop worrying, do you think you're the first free woman we've had in here? Of course not, we do this all the time. We're very good at keeping secrets. You'll be wearing this helmet..." she told her as she stepped away from Dizzie and picked a helmet off the wall. "See? Just like the ones that the other pony girls were wearing in the race. It has a built-in safety visor that conceals everything but your lower face. Okay? Nobody will recognize you in this, you'll look just like every other anonymous pony girl out there. You're even physically fit enough to fit in. Almost, but good enough. Hmm... nothing I can do about those tan lines, though. Shouldn't be too obvious, though. Hmm...maybe..."
-
She went and rummaged in the bin. "Ha! We did pack it! We'll even out those tan lines with a little spray tan and put this brand on your left butt cheek." Sandy smirked at Dizzie's sudden panicked expression. "Don't worry, we'll be using ink. It's a stamp, not a brand. Should come off in a few days, just don't wear a thong swimsuit to the beach. Dizzie's expression quickly cycled from frightened, to relieved, to insulted. She was a sophisticated upper-class woman, she would never wear a thong to the beach, with her bare bottom hanging out so the randy old men could ogle her... oh. Never mind. Now she just looked mortified.
-
Sandy turned back to her preparations shaking her head and chuckling. This job was so much fun. Good thing for Sandy it was never going to be HER up on that rack. She quickly pulled off her Western shirt to reveal a power-blue bikini top and then stripped off her denim shorts to reveal a matching pair of boy-short bikini bottoms. When she turned around with her equipment, she looked like a smiling high school cheerleader about to participate in a fund-raising car wash. In the midst of the hyper-sexualized environment that Isabelle (now Dizzie) had been immersed in all day, it was a surprisingly wholesome look.
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Sandy then knelt before Dizzie, grabbed a pinch of her un-groomed pubic hair and said "We need to trim that up." Although Dizzie had freshly shaved her legs and arm pits in the shower that morning, she had missed a spot - her entire pubic region. Free women, especially anti-slavery women like Isabelle, wore their pubic hair unshorn because shaved pubic hair was the standard for slave girls. But Pretty Dizzie wasn't a free woman at this moment, she was a slave girl and a pony, and pretty ponies need to have clean-shaven mounds. Tut-tutting, Sandy immediately began to buzz the bushy growth off. She was very gentle and Dizzie could feel the electric trimmer's vibrations deep inside in her pussy as Sandy slowly and carefully trimmed off her pubic hair. Unable to look straight down due to the wide leather collar, she could not see that her pubic hair was slowly dropping to the ground in clumps, much like her pride and her illusions about what being a pony was all about. "Well, at least she's just using a trimmer," she thought, "not actually shaving it. It will grow back long before anyone at the health club sees that I've been trimmed." Wrapped in her self-delusions, Dizzie was a bit surprised when she felt the young groom smear something warm and wet on her freshly-trimmed mound. "Oh, that's nice, she thought, she's lotioning it so it doesn't get itchy." But any self-deluding thoughts that she might not end up slave naked were swept away as she felt the slow, gentle strokes of a razor on her freshly lathered mound.
-
Sandy finished shaving her mons and Dizzie signed with relief. "Glad that's over with," she thought as Sandy reached up toward Dizzie's wrist area. "I guess she'll take me down now and show me how I put all these strappy things on." But Sandy wasn't finished with her yet. Instead of releasing Dizzie's wrist, she grabbed a cable, pulled down it down to her ankle and clipped it to her padded leather ankle cuff. Then she did the other one.
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"All right, Dizzie, we're almost done here, we just need to shave your taint and tail hole. You do want Hammer to be pleased with you, don't you?" Dizzie nodded. "You look like you're very fit for a woman your age, your information sheet says you take spin classes and do yoga and are very flexible, is that all true?" Dizzie nodded. Boss Monica had asked her a lot of seemingly innocuous and irrelevant questions during their conversation, but Isabelle had been focused on gracefully declining the breeding session that she so desperately needed and hadn't paid much attention to the form that Monica had been filling out on her computer. In fact, there were a lot of things that she had missed in that office, like the crop, the blue plastic bin, and the panties on the wall behind her.
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"Good, because we're about to test that." Sandy guided Dizzie's hands to a pair of handles that she hadn't noticed when she had originally been put on the rack and said, "Now hold on tight!"
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With that, she pushed a button on the side of the rack and the two cables attached to her ankles slowly raised and spread her legs. Dizzie gasped in shock as her legs were slowly and inexorably raised and split far apart. Eventually the pulling cables stopped at her wrists!
-
"Don't struggle now, sweetie," Sandy said soothingly." Her entire inner thigh area was now utterly exposed to the young groom and anyone else who might happen to walk in the open door. She stared in horror at Sandy, shaking her head and mewling piteously. Sandy ignored her squirming and her pleading looks and placed a shelf-like pad under each upraised butt cheek. Then she loosened the leg cables slightly, leaving Dizzie pinned to the rack with her legs doing an obscene split with her most private areas on shameful display.
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"There, comfy now?" she said. "We call this the "surprised cheerleader position". Imagine you're a cheerleader who was running about without panties before the game for the thrill of it. But then you got all excited and rushed out on the field to do your routine. You want to give the crowd a good show, so you leap in the air doing the splits and suddenly you remember - Oops, forgot my panties!"
-
She chuckled and reached for her shaving supplies. 
-
This, this, this was not what she thought she was signing up for thought Dizzie. She was now pinned to the wall with her legs split obscenely and fasted tight in that position. She started squirming vigorously again and Sandy looked up from her preparations. She walked up to Dizzie and looked her straight in the eye. "Honey, you need to knock that off right now! This is my job and I'm gonna do it. You are a slave and you will obey."
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Dizzie didn't stoop squirming. Sandy scowled at her. Even in her distressed and vulnerable state, Dizzie simply couldn't find the girl intimidating. It was just cute.
-
Sandy sighed and bent down. When she stood back up, she was holding a straight razor up, showing it to Dizzie. "I need to shave your labia now and you need to calm down or it's gonna hurt."
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In shock, Dizzie froze in place. Sandy immediately dropped the non-ferocious frown and smiled brightly at her. "Hah! That worked! Now make yourself comfy to I can finish getting you sexy!" Then she held up a pink safety razor. It was a common brand any woman might have in her bath. 
-
"Fooled ya!" Sandy chirped as she began to knead Dizzie's exposed vagina. With her legs raised and spread like this, her vagina had opened widely and formed a bright pink channel framed by growths of dark 2-inch-long pubic hair. 
-
"Yep, see? This stuff is icky and needs to go. Ponies don't need it so I'm gonna take it all off," she declared. as she gently pinched one of Dizzies exposed labia and began to shave. "It's unsightly and unsanitary, that's what Mistress Harriett says and she's right. Honestly, I never thought about it before I got this job, but it's all true."
-
Her hands were gentle and sweet, and Dizzie's arousal kept building and the young teenager slowly finished depriving her of the final symbol of her status as a free woman. Occasionally, much to Dizzie's mortification, she would gently caress her protruding clitoris, stimulate her to an almost orgasm, and then resume her work. It was maddening. 
-
Just as Sandy finished with her labia, a large rangy man dressed like a ranch hand walked in the door. Helplessly bound in her exposed position, Dizzie stared at him in shock, but she didn't move. He ignored the lewdly-positioned pony helplessly pinned to the wall in order to talk to the only person in the room while she gently polished Dizzie's bean into yet another erection. He looked her over.
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"New pony slut or just for the night?"
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"Just for the night, Caleb."
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"Hmm, nice muscular definition for a mare her age. I like her height and coloring, too. How much pony training has she had?"
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"She's not a mare, she's a filly. And as far as I know, this is her first time in boots."
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"Still a filly at her age, that's too bad, she probably has a career or something, seems wasteful."
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How dare he, thought Dizzie, she had worked very, very hard to get where she was now, she... was pinned to the wall of a barn with her legs split, having her vagina shaved bald by an 18-yr-old girl. All the outrage at his insolent chauvinistic attitude simply melted away. Oh well.
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Caleb tried to get Sandy to come over to the hotel for an after party and perhaps some sack time with... Caleb. Sandy demurred, telling him she had to sleep in the stable to keep an eye on her pony and Caleb knows damn well what the penalty clause in Sandy's employment contract was.
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"Yeah, so what, two years in boots, not a big deal. C'mon, stop by will ya? Nobody will know, I promise."
-
Sandy responded heatedly, "Caleb, you know and I know that Boss Chowser sent you in here to try and lure me away so he can come by and "check on" my pony in the middle of the night."
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"Sigh, fine," he replied in a conspirational whisper, "He does love face-fucking these short-term pony sluts while they're helpless. Not like there's anything wrong with it."
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"Doesn't matter, I'm not shirking my duty so you can get laid and Chowser can get a midnight blowjob... on the other hand, if you're willing to shave this girl's tail-plug hole for me, I'll have her suck you off tomorrow after her morning cart training. Deal?"
-
Dizzie is shocked that someone had just bartered her sexual services like she was some kind of prostitute or... sex slave. Caleb was quite happy to assist, since this is his favorite area to shave on a new pony. He quickly pulled tweezers and a small flashlight out of his equipment belt and started tweezing around Dizzie's recently-cleaned anus. While he's doing that, Sandy kept her hand on Dizzie's up-thrust mons and made extremely soft gentle circles on her exposed clit. Not enough to bring her to orgasm, but just enough to keep her arousal level elevated. 
-
"Right, all done, you want me to plug her for you, too?"
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"Sure Caleb, take her tail virginity, too." Inexplicably, Dizzie hadn't realized that this would be happening to her too when she became a pony. Every pony she had seen that day had a tail plug. And now that she was a pony, of course she would be getting one too. She looked at Sandy in alarm and began squirming again, but Sandy just gave her a swat on the inside if her thigh and told her to calm down, "It's just a training plug, you'll barely even feel it."
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After lubricating both the plug and the area around Dizzie's browneye, Caleb slowly pressed it into the center. Dizzie's traitorous sphincter muscles betrayed her by dilating just enough for the bulb to enter her rectum.
-
"There we go, she can wear that for Hammer and you can use the next size up gel plug tonight. Might even get one of the larger ones in her in the morning for training."
-
"I know my job, Caleb. Thanks for the help."
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"You need help gearing her up?"
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"Nah, I'm good, have fun at the party tonight."

[Carl Bradford]

A fine power exchange, reducing the free woman to neighing pony slave when she might have stopped the process at various stages. I like the distinction between "tail virginity" and "anal virginity"--more steps in the domination process. Besides, I'm hoping that the plug will help stretch her so she can accommodate the real thing later on, Can't wait for Dizzie to become a full-fledged pony slut underneath her stallion crush.

[ZeeChromosome]

Power Exchange:
An unexpected gift for me in writing the office scene was that I realized the power exchange was dual in nature because Monica goes from obsequious customer service rep manipulating and cajoling Isabelle to submit - to dominant slave overseer with a crop in her hand. Not sure I pulled it off. Should I have her give Dizzie a few swats?
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Anal Sex:
I don't have any anal sex planned at this time, but Sandy will definitely be training Dizzie's bottom for larger insertions on Day Two.
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Next up:
You shouldn't have to wait long for the sex part, it's already written, just needs a final review. I felt like I was at a natural stopping point in the story last night and then my brain shut off.
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Thanks for the perceptive comments!
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Zee!

[Mr. Smith]

Great chapter. I kept waiting for you to reinsert Mary back into the story either walking into Monica's office finding a naked Dizzie on her knees or at some other point. I can just imagine Dizzie hearing Mary walk by talking to a groom about her ponygirls while Dizzie was facing the wall peeing and getting her enema. Dizzie thanful that her face is concealed hoping Mary does not recognize her. Then when Dizzie is in the cheerleader position getting shaved she hears Mary's voice once again. The possible shame and humiliation if Mary finds out is just so arousing for poor Dizzie making her pussy a throbbing mess.

[jeepster]

Great chapter! I can't add anything to what Carl and Mr Smith said except keep writing!

[ZeeChromosome]

Great chapter. I kept waiting for you to reinsert Mary back into the story either walking into Monica's office finding a naked Dizzie on her knees or at some other point.

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Thanks, that means a lot to me.
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Mary will reappear later, on Day Two. One more part before we put Pretty Dizzie to bed for the night (oozing).
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On Day Two, Mary makes two appearances... you'll see. Insert evil laughter here!
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Zee!