Accidental Ponygirl

The next day, the Alphas were given heavy pony boots to wear, while the Omegas were allowed to go barefoot, which seemed totally unfair until the girls saw that they'd be marching through a thicket of brambles that afternoon. The cruel punishments and withering humiliations went on and on. Every day was some new painful indignity that they were subjected to under the guise of 'training'. Though the guards managed to work in some of their old favorites as well: pulling all manner of carts, extended shifts on the hot walker, hours on end of marching in place.

The days turned to weeks. There was never a break, until one terrible day. The pony girls were roused in the usual way. They were fed and given their big, chunky tail plugs to wear. After all this time, Nicole still struggled to insert the monstrous member up her ass.

Wearing nothing but their tails and reins, the girls were led out to the line of vertical posts in the field nearby. The anxiety among the slaves was palpable. Though several unfortunate girls had found themselves on the receiving end of a harsh whipping by now, they hadn't all been arranged like this since they'd had their breasts ringed.

Once they were all in place, Achilles stood proudly in front of his frightened ponygirls. The weeks of training had been hard on them, and their bodies showed it - their muscles had been toned by day after day of strenuous exercise, their skin had been tanned from long hours spent naked outside, they were leaner from their strict diet of gruel.

"Slaves," he said, "you have nearly finished your training with us. Soon you will be taken to auction and sold to your new masters. The proceeds, of course, will go towards the war effort. Aegea is getting closer by the day to final victory and every last effort is needed to bring about our success."

Many of the girls weren't sure whether to be frightened or relieved at the prospect of training being over. On the one hand, they were looking forward to an end to the nonstop drill and punishment, but on the other, they didn't know what they would be in for with whoever bought them. Nicole, however, was thrilled at the prospect of getting out of this training camp. She'd finally have an opportunity to explain the circumstances of her capture, prove her Aegean citizenship, and be free from this horrendous experience.

"Before you can be put up for sale there are two things we need to legally take care of," Achilles continued. "First, from this point forward you will all be issued a hood, which you will wear at all times. It is only allowed to be removed or changed by your owners, and only in private."

A few of the girls groaned - it was just more discomfort and humiliation. Nicole remembered back to her freshman civics class how they had followed the debate in the parliament about the new Ionian slavery law. Due to labor shortages from the war there was never any doubt that the law for the enslavement of Ionian captives would pass, but several senators insisted that the slaves have their identities concealed. They saw it as a way to dehumanize the captives so that their plight wouldn't arouse any sympathy from the general populace for the hapless wretches they saw serving their Aegean masters.

The guards worked their way down the row of ponygirls. They removed their gag, then pulled a thick black leather hood overhead. The girl's long hair was parted and bundled into a pair of ponytails atop her head which were fed through holes in the top of the hood. Before the binding of the hood was pulled tight, the bridle was replaced. When they were done they were left with a wide-eyed ponygirl gazing out through the eye holes of her hood, the drool from her bit gag dribbling out from the narrow mouth hole onto her chin.

Nicole didn't resist as she felt the stiff hood pulled over her head. The rich smell of leather enveloped her. Her long curly hair was bundled into ponytails so tight that they made her scalp hurt. The hood was adjusted so that the holes were lined up over her face. There were two tiny grommets beneath each nostril so that she could breathe through her nose. She felt the leather resist her as she opened her mouth to take her bit once more. Then they tightened the bindings. Nicole sensed the leather pressing in all sides, squeezing her head like she was in the grip of a giant's fist. They pulled tighter and tighter, mashing her jaw closed around her bit, flattening her ears, compressing her cheeks. The sensation activated a claustrophobic fear that she didn't know she had. She panicked. The shackles holding her rattled noisily as she flailed and pulled against them.

"Easy, Princess," Dilios mumbled, patting her rump. "You'll get used to it, really because you other choice but to," he chuckled, then moved on to the next girl.

Nicole struggled to grow accustomed to the hood. She felt like she couldn't breathe. There was no relief from the pressure that surrounded her completely. She was so distracted that she missed what the guard had said after all the girls had been hooded. But whatever it was had certainly gotten a reaction from them. They wailed in protest, rattling their chains as they futilely fought against their bondage.

Nicole wracked her brain trying to remember what else the law required of Ionian slaves. She wished she'd paid more attention in civics class. But, when she saw the other guards wheeling a large cart out towards them, she felt her heart skip a beat as she suddenly remembered the other requirement of Ionian slaves - branding! They were to be permanently marked so that if they escaped they'd be immediately recognized as the enemy.

She watched as the cart was parked in front of the ponygirls, smoke rose ominously from the brazier which had several long iron rods buried in its coals. One of the guards turned on a fan and the coals flared red with heat.

"So, who wants to go first?" Achilles asked. "Any volunteers?" He strolled up and down the line, then stopped in front of Nicole. "How about you, Princess? You claim you're not Ionian. Once you wear the mark of your people there will be no doubt."

"Nnngh! Nnngh!" Nicole screeched and begged. The guards tightened her restraints so that she couldn't move an inch.

Phoenix pulled an iron out of the coals and held the glowing red end up to her face. She could feel the heat radiating off of it, even through her hood. The symbol bent into the end of the branding iron was the seven pointed star of the Ionian flag. "C'mon, Princess, a little fire never hurt anyone. I should know," he laughed and the hideous scars on his face wrinkled. "Where should we do first? Wrists or hips?"

Nicole was frantic. She pulled so hard on her bonds that it seemed she would hurt herself. Phoenix bent down and lined up the red hot brand over a spot high up on the outside of her leg. Nicole held her breath in anticipation. Phoenix waited patiently until she finally had to breathe out, then he plunged the hot iron against her flesh. There was a soft sizzle and a burst of steam. He held it there, one second, two seconds, three seconds. Nicole screamed and screamed and screamed as the iron seared her skin. The smell was horrendous. Several of the girls around her interrupted their terrified tittering with dry heaves.

The blistering pain continued pulsing through her body even after he pulled the iron away. Nicole could see nothing through the tears in her eyes. She was hyperventilating. She had forgotten all about the terror of the hood as her mind focused on her poor maimed leg that radiated the worst pain she'd ever felt.

"One down," Phoenix said coolly. He waited a moment or two for Nicole to come down from her mania, then he grabbed the next identical iron from the fire. This time when he pressed the brand against her leg she lost all control. A stream of piss gushed down her leg, inches away from where the hot iron scorched her skin. Her eyes fluttered and her vision faded as her whole universe collapsed down to that little patch of agonized flesh just a few square inches in size.

"That's two." Again Phoenix waited patiently for Nicole to regain focus before grabbing the next, smaller iron. Twice more she had the fiery brand applied to her. This time on the inside of each forearm. During the second and last branding she finally, mercifully, passed out.

It wasn't clear how long she was unconscious for. The guards made no attempt to rouse her, their use for her finished, for now. She awoke to the sound of screaming and the horrible smell of burned flesh. Her arms and hips throbbed with pain. She twisted her head to examine her wrists and saw the bright red mark seared into her skin. There was no mistaking it, the seven pointed Ionian star was clearly visible, raised within the angry, red, swollen skin surrounding it.

She cried anew. There was no hiding these new marks, she was permanently maimed. What would she do once she was freed? She was indelibly marked as an Ionian slave.

Branding all twelve slaves took most of the day. The guards were as patient as they were cruel. They waited after each branding for the irons to heat up again. They waited after each mark for the girl to regain her senses. They even waited when a slave passed out before receiving her next touch of the iron, reviving her so that she wouldn't miss the dreadful teasing as the red hot iron rod was wafted back and forth in front of her before it was finally plunged against her smooth skin. Between brandings they mocked and taunted the girls, laughing at their terror and mimicking their whimpers.

After everyone had received their four marks, the slaves were left hanging from their bonds. Nicole could feel her muscles cramping from being stretched in this position for hours. She'd have gladly traded this day for a full day pulling a heavy cart in pony boots under the guidance of the horsewhip.

After a little while, one of the guards came along and applied a balm to each new brand. The lotion was creamy and soothing, but the comfort of the slaves was merely a side effect. The true intention was to soften the scarring and quicken the healing so that the girls would be ready for auction.

Eventually they were taken down and led back to the barn. There the girls learned that they were expected to sleep in their hoods. Nicole spent a restless night rolling about. It was impossible for her to get comfortable with her brands still throbbing in pain and the unrelenting pressure of the tight leather around her head. She kept tracing her fingers lightly over the raised seven pointed star etched onto her hip with a persistent sense of melancholy lingering in her mind.

---

The next morning after breakfast the girls had their wrists chained chained together in front of them and they were marched off to a new building. For the first time in a long time, they were spared the awful and humiliating tail plugs. Nicole wondered what that meant.

Within the building, the tiled foyer had a track running along the ceiling with a dozen wheeled hooks set inside the track. Each pony girl had the chain connecting her wrists thrown over a hook and then adjusted so that she was standing up on her tiptoes.

With the press of a button on the wall, the first hook whirred forward along the track. Dimples, the first girl in line, hurried after the pull on her wrists as she was dragged through a row of hanging plastic strips that divided the foyer from the next room. After a minute they could hear her squeals and protests carry through as she was worked on by one of the guards.

Every so often after that, the track would come to life and carry the next girl in line into the room. Nicole cried out as she was dragged forward by her wrists when her time came. She scurried along, feeling the cuffs digging into her arms as she struggled to keep up.

When she pushed through the plastic divider she immediately felt the temperature difference in this room - it was at least ten degrees colder. Goosebumps appeared on her flesh. Her feet slipped on the wet floor, leaving her dangling by her wrists as the hook carried her on like a side of beef in a slaughterhouse. The other girls couldn't be seen. The track continued around a corner of this room. Nicole could here the girls' groans echo around the tiled room.

Dilios was waiting for her just past the entrance. He wordlessly removed Nicole's hood. She sighed in relief, grateful to finally be free of the crushing hold of the tight leather. He tossed the hood into a pile in the corner. Then he pulled down a hose hanging from the ceiling. Nicole braced herself as he aimed the nozzle in her direction, but nothing could have prepared her for that first icy blast of high pressure water against her skin.

She wailed as the thin fan of water traced up and down her body. It felt like thousands of needles stinging her flesh. She twisted and turned, but there was no escaping the cruel spray. Dirty water sloughed off her body, washing down into the drain below. In her time in captivity she'd never been cleaned by anything more than a rainy day or a bucket of cold water poured over her head if her smell got too egregious. Now, the weeks of accumulated filth poured off of her.

After an initial pass to get the base layer of dirt off, Dilios paused the sprayer and took out a scrub brush on a long stick. Nicole's shivering body was assaulted anew as he viciously attacked every nook and cranny with the stiff bristles of the brush. She pleaded for him to stop as the brush moved from her armpits to her feet, to her tits, and everywhere in between. Not one square inch of skin was spared the touch of those harsh bristles, except for her fresh brands. He paid special attention to her tits, relishing her cries as he scoured her cold, erect nipples.

Then he moved between her legs. He grabbed an ankle to help keep her thighs parted while he sadistically ran the sharp bristles back and forth across her cunt, they caught and tore at the folds of her pussy. He didn't stop until her entire pussy glowed an angry red shade.

Now he lathered her up with soap, working it into her hair and then moving downward. His slick fingers delved deep into her holes as he layered her body in a thick mat of suds. This was followed by another withering pass of icy high pressure water to rinse her clean.

When he released the hose and it retracted back up into the ceiling, Nicole thought she was finally done. But then he picked up a different hose. He fitted a stubby black butt plug to the tip then walked around behind her. Nicole groaned as he forced the plug into her ass, then she screamed in surprise as a stream of incredibly hot, soapy water began filling her guts. The stark contrast of her shivering body and the scalding liquid made it feel like she was being roasted alive.

Nicole flailed about and begged for mercy. Instead Dilios busied himself with a coarse cock-shaped sponge on a stick that he rammed into her vagina again and again and again. He battered her cervix over and over with the stick while Nicole slowly filled more and more with the hot enema. Her anal discomfort was growing, not just from the hot water, but also from the ever increasing quantity of liquid that was flooding into her bowels and beginning to stretch her stomach. She groaned as the pressure grew greater and greater.

Satisfied that he had thoroughly cleaned her pussy, Dilios sat back and watched as Nicole's belly swelled with the weight of her enema. She could feel her insides cramping as the hot water pushed her organs out of the way. Even her enormous tail plug paled in comparison to what was now filling her ass. Just as she thought she couldn't take anymore, Dilios shut off the water. He detached the hose from the plug that stoppered up her asshole. Then he went to the controls on the wall.

Nicole stumbled forward in surprise as the hook on the ceiling yanked her forward. She was expecting him to release the enema, but instead she was being dismissed. She pleaded with him for relief, but he ignored her cries. She shuffled around the corner, slipping on the wet tile and dragging by her wrists while her insides tied themselves into knots. Despite the chill of the room, she was sweating as the heat and stress from the enema spread throughout her body.

Up ahead, several other slaves were waiting to be passed along through the next plastic divider into another room. Nicole watched the girls writhing in discomfort from their own swollen midsections, their flushed, exfoliated pink skin glowed under the bright lights. Nicole joined them in misery at the end of the line where the hook stopped moving.

She waited and waited. The tempest in her guts continued to turn. More girls, freshly washed and stuffed with soapy water arrived behind her to join their suffering. Finally she was towed into the next room.

Phoenix was waiting for her there. He steered her into the middle of the room then grabbed her ankles and locked them to waist high posts in front of her so that she hung face up at a forty five degree angle with her legs spread. Nicole pleaded with him to release the enema, but he ignored her and got right to work.

First, to Nicole's surprise, he carefully trimmed and manicured her fingernails and toenails. Instead of his normal roughness he was downright tender as he carefully clipped and filed her nails, finishing them off with a coat of bright red polish.

The next step wasn't nearly so gentle. Nicole had waxed her legs before, but found it too painful and had given it up in favor of shaving. The wax that her overseer used now, though, was nothing like what she'd used in the past. He produced a jar of piping hot wax, stirring it as steam wafted up from the container. He poured it in patches up and down her legs, smearing it with a stick to cover every area, and then covering that with paper strips. Nicole screamed as the burning hot wax seared her skin. She tried to twist out of the way as he poured more and more. When the wax cooled and hardened he removed it with ferocious tugs on the paper strips. Nicole screamed anew as her body hair was torn out by the cruel pulls.

But he didn't stop with her legs. He went to her arms, her chest, her back - areas that didn't even have body hair were subjected to the searing hot wax just the same. Nicole writhed and howled as every part of her body from the neck down was eventually scalded and stripped of the wax. He worked between her legs last. Nicole screamed as he slathered her pussy with the hot wax. She was left trembling after he yanked it off, tearing her hair out by the roots. Finally he moved to her asshole.

"If you shit on me, I'll fill you up even fuller and leave you like that overnight? Got it? You hold it in," he warned.

Nicole nodded agreement through the. He began working at the plug, wriggling it out of her butt. Nicole clenched hard as she felt it slip free. She wasn't sure whether she'd be able to control herself. She gasped as he touched her asshole with the hot wax. Somehow she managed to hold on as he scalded her tightly clenched hole.

"When I pull off the wax you can shit," the guard said. "One. Two." Nicole assumed he was counting to three, which is why she was caught off guard when he yanked it a beat early. Even if she'd been ordered to hold the enema she'd have been unable to. Her strength collapsed as the dried wax tore at the skin around her strained anus. A torrent of dirty, brown, soapy water erupted from her ass, cascading down into a drain beneath her.

Phoenix waited for every last humiliating spurt to come out, then he toweled her off and fetched a tail plug. Nicole was offered the chance to kick all up and down the plug before it was lined up with her gaping asshole and shoved home. Then her legs were lowered and she was dragged on into the final room.

Achilles was waiting for her there. He dried and brushed her hair, untangling all the knots before bundling her curly locks into a pair of pigtails. Now it was time again to wear her hood and bit. She shuddered as the stiff leather was pulled over her head, her pigtails once again fed through the holes in the top. Achilles made sure to pull the laces on the back as tight as he possibly could before tying them off. Nicole could feel the tight leather conforming to the shape of her head, pressing in on all sides with its crushing grip until she felt like she couldn't breathe.

After this he took out a can of polish and worked the leather until it shined. Then he shined and buffed her tit rings, twisting them this way and that to ensure he got every last spot.

Next he crammed her feet into a pair of shiny, new ankle high pony boots, locking the built-in ankle cuffs tightly around her legs. The boots were connected together with a two foot long chain.

Finally he unhooked her wrists from the cuffs that stretched her up to the ceiling. Nicole slumped in relief, rubbing her sore wrists. Her arms weren't free for long, though. Achilles picked up a long steel stockade and affixed it around her neck, then he yanked her arms up and out, trapping her wrists in the manacles on either end of the bar. After locking a chain to the front of the stockade he dragged her out into the cool evening air.

Nicole clip-clopped after him as he led her up a short ramp into the back of a trailer with "live animals" stencilled onto the side. There the other girls waited, similarly attired, facing forward, waiting for the rest of their cohort to arrive. Nicole was taken to the next open position among the two lines of girls in the trailer. He locked her chain to an overhead ring with only a couple inches of slack - apparently she'd be standing for the duration of their trip. He also locked the chain connecting her ankles to a ring in the floor so she couldn't even lift her foot more than a few inches. Then he left.

Slowly, the rest of the girls filed into the trailer. They waited in silence, uncertain of what their fate would be. Nicole, however, was optimistic. Despite the abuse, despite the piercing and the branding, despite everything that had happened to her, this was her best opportunity at freedom. At the auction she would finally get an opportunity to explain what happened and demand her freedom. It was only a matter of time.

When the last girl was placed in the trailer, the rear door was slammed shut. Still they waited. Minutes turned to hours. The chill night air trickled in through slits in the side of the trailer. Their feet began to ache. Their necks and wrists chafed as they bore more of their sagging weight. They drifted into a daze.

It wasn't until the first light of the next day began to peek in through the slits in the trailer that they heard an engine rumble to life and the trailer surged into motion.