Accidental Ponygirl

Later in the afternoon, once the girls had gotten the chance to become accustomed to their new butt plugs, Phoenix was spotted dragging a small two wheeled cart into the pasture just beyond the area where the girls had spent all their time. He approached the line of girls and called their marching to a halt.

"Alright, slaves," he said. "It's time for another important aspect to your ponygirl training. You need to learn how to pull a cart. There are all manner of different carts, carriages, and traps that you might encounter, and you'll get to practice with a bunch of them."

"The instructions are simple. You feel the touch of the whip, you go faster. You feel a pull on your reins, you slow down. You turn when you feel a tug to one side. Most important is the comfort and obedience to your driver. You don't need to lift your knees like you've been practicing when you're pulling a cart. So, who wants to go first?"

Of course no one volunteered, so the guard randomly selected Dimples to lead off. She was untied from the beam and led out into the pasture, earning a whip stroke along the way for daring to walk rather than prance.

"You're not on the cart yet, cunt. You'll move like a proper ponygirl," he admonished her.

Dimples high stepped to the cart, standing in front of the two long arms that would hitch her to it. The guard lifted them up behind her. They connected to the bar threaded between her elbows and back, locking securely in place. The guard shoved her to her knees so that he could step in behind her and take his seat.

The cart was fairly simple - just a short leather padded bench mounted above an axle with a large bicycle wheel on either end. Dimples looked over her shoulder as the man sank down onto the bench. Swish! Crack!

"Eyes forward!" he commanded her. "Stand up!"

Dimples rose. Her feet shuffled uncertainly as she awaited her orders. The rest of the pony slaves watched carefully, though another guard made sure to keep them marching in place as they did so.

Swish! Crack! "Giddyap!" Phoenix ordered with a flick of his whip to the girl's shoulders. Dimples whinnied and leaned into the bar. The cart surged forward.

Swish! Crack! "Faster!"

She leaned into the bar and took off at a jogging pace. The cart rumbled along behind her, bouncing on its air cushioned wheels. The pasture was several hundred yards wide in each direction and the cart was soon exploring the wide expanse. Dimples was directed by the guard, who kept a tight hold on her reins. They were gone for a good twenty minutes before the cart finally came rolling back to its starting position. Dimples was red-faced and out of breath as Phoenix unhitched her from the cart and marched her back to the chorus line of high stepping spectators.

"Princess, you're next," he called.

Nicole stiffened. Of course she didn't want to have a turn, but, of course, the decision wasn't up to her. She was untied from the beam and guided in front of the cart. She could feel the posts being attached to the bar bound under her arms. She dropped to her knees when ordered. She had to remind herself not to look back over her shoulder as she felt the weight of the cart shift when the guard climbed on. Initially there was a great strain on her arms as he added his weight to the cart, but, to Nicole's relief, it abated as the guard took his place on the bench and his mass became balanced over the axle.

"Up!" the guard called, flicking her reins against her shoulders, one leather strap on either side of her head.

"Giddyap!" Nicole felt the sting of the whip as it slashed across her shoulder blades. She feared and hated that a strike of the whip was just a matter of course for driving a cart - not a threat, not a punishment, just a way of instructing the ponygirl to get moving, subtly integrating pain and humiliation into her pony vocabulary.

Nicole surged forward at the command. Though the cart's load was well balanced, that didn't make it any less heavy when it came to accelerating. She grunted as she pressed forward with all her strength, pumping her legs to gain momentum.

Remembering the speed at which Dimples was driven and hoping to avoid another slash of the whip, Nicole hurried into a jogging pace. She was quickly stymied, though, by a hard pull on her reins. Her head was yanked back, her neck straining. She slowed to a walk from the harsh correction without even thinking.

"I decide the pace, not you," the guard growled.

They continued at a walking speed for a hundred yards. The guard tested out how Nicole responded to commands to turn, yanking her reins on the left side or right side. She followed the pull on her headgear, feeling her neck getting stiff from the hard handling.

As they ambled along Nicole couldn't help but picture the absurdity of the situation - a grown man being bandied about by a naked girl in a corset, butt plug, and five inch heels, their only communication the flick of a whip or the pull of her reins. Absurd though it was, it did nothing to assuage the humiliation of being treated like an animal. She had been reduced to a beast of burden, undeserving of verbal communication or consent, she went where she was told and she did what she was ordered.

Crack! Nicole whinnied as the whip slashed between her shoulders. Without her handler even needing to say a word she sped up, moving at a jogging pace. Crack! Nicole cried out. She pushed herself faster as she was steered in a wide circle through the pasture. Crack! She frothed in pain and frustration. Now she was running at top speed, sprinting on her toes so that her fragile, narrow heels wouldn't sink into the soft dirt. Her large, unsupported tits bounded up and down with each pounding step. Crack! She was driven onward. Running as if trying to flee the whip strikes that pursued her. Crack! The driver was determined to get every last measure of strength out of her. Crack! Her heart pounded in her chest. Her lungs burned, stymied by her corset and unable to draw deep breaths. Crack!

"Unnngh! Unngh!" Nicole protested. How much more could they demand of her? Her stamina was flagging. She couldn't go on like this much longer.

But on and on she raced. Just when she thought she might collapse, there was a fierce pull on her reins. Nicole felt like her neck would snap as her head was pulled sharply backwards. She slowed to a stop and felt the pressure on her neck abate. It was only as she stood there huffing and puffing, vision blurred by tears, that she noticed she'd been guided back to the starting location.

She was unhitched from the cart and taken back to her place in line. Her legs felt like lead after her exhausting run, but the touch of the whip to the back of her thigh reminded her to lift her knees high as she marched in place. She wanted nothing more than to take a few minutes rest, but, as she would learn in the weeks and months to come, often the only rest a ponygirl got during the day was the opportunity to perform a less strenuous activity.

Misty was next, then Curly, then Chestnut. Each girl was taken out and put through her paces in front of the cart. Some were driven like Nicole, raced along at high speed, nearly to the point of exhaustion. Others were guided out into the farther reaches of the pasture where the ground was uneven and the cart needed to be pulled up and down hills and across rough terrain.

Now it was Tiny's turn. The slender, flat chested girl was hardly five feet tall. As such, when she was hitched to the cart it pitched forward a bit since the guiding bars were not held as high. This meant that the driver's weight was not as well balanced when he sat down, adding an extra burden on the fragile girl's arms. Just standing there, she seemed to sag under the strain of holding the cart.

"Giddyap!" The driver spurred Tiny on with the crack of his whip. The slender beauty leaned forward and pulled with all her might. The cart crept forward, hardly accelerating as her long black hair swished back and forth in time with the swish of her tail plug.

Crack! Crack! "I said get moving!" the driver barked.

The diminutive girl struggled mightily, slowly building momentum until they were moving at a reasonable pace. The guard tested out steering, raging in frustration when Tiny could only make wide, sweeping turns when applying her small frame to the heavy cart.

Nicole cringed as she saw the guard steer the overwhelmed girl out into the uneven terrain. Crack! Crack! The whip strikes rang out like shots at a firing range as Tiny was viciously goaded along.

They approached a high hill. Go faster, build some momentum, Nicole thought to herself as she saw the cart charge towards it. She held her breath as she saw Tiny drag the cart up and up and up, her legs shaking, her back blazing with welts.

They're going to make it, Nicole thought as the cart neared the crest of the hill. Then Tiny's exhausted legs gave out. They stalled three quarters of the way up. Then the cart began rolling backwards. The guard ranted and raged. The cart accelerated backwards down the hill. Tiny was no longer pulling the cart, the cart was pulling her. Her short legs flailed as she tried unsuccessfully to halt the descent. The out of control cart hit a rock with one wheel. It spun to the side. There was a squeak and a crash, followed by a scream as the cart flipped over onto its side. The driver jumped off of the bench and rolled out of the way to avoid having the overturned cart land on top of him.

Tiny laid in a heap at the front of the mess. Her arms, still bound to the cart, had sent her tumbling along with the out of control contraption. She sprawled out, gasping and crying, with her face pressed to the dirt.

Dilios, patrolling behind Nicole, witnessed the disaster and sprinted out into the pasture, vaulting over the fence and dashing to his colleague's aid. He helped pick up the dirtied driver and dusted him off. They checked for injuries, finding none. Then they surveyed the cart, seeing if it had sustained any damage - it had not. Finally they checked on Tiny.

The poor girl had a nasty bruise forming on the side of her hip and an abrasion on her forehead. Dirty tears streaked down her cheeks as Dilios detached her from the cart and practically dragged her out of the pasture. Phoenix righted the cart and brought it back to the starting position.

"String her up," he ordered. "We'll deal with her once we're done with the others."

Tiny was dragged out into a field, separate from the rest of the girls and away from the large pasture with the cart. The field had a line of tall vertical posts that were spaced about five feet apart. The bawling girl was dragged between two of them. Her arms were freed from her sides and a steel cable was pulled down from the top of one post and hooked onto her wrist cuff. Another cable was pulled down from the post on the other side and connected to the other cuff. A short chain near the base of each post was then linked to the strap around each of her ankles. Finally the guard activated a tensioner on the upper cables. The slack drew out of each one, lifting the small girl up onto her toes and pulling her arms taut overhead, leaving her stretched into a standing spread-eagle. Her toes strained towards the ground, supporting some of her weight, but most of it was borne by her wrists up above. Then she was promptly ignored.

The cart practice resumed. Jangles, Cookie, Buttons, and Blondie all pulled without incident. When Jugs had her turn, she raced about with her huge tits flopping wildly, the driver spurring her faster and faster as he laughed at the spectacle.

Finally it was Sugarpuss's turn. The poor girl could hardly move. Her long night of abuse had taken a tremendous toll on her. Already her thighs had been thoroughly whipped as her efforts at marching in place failed to meet standards. Now, as she was practically dragged in front of the cart, it was clear that she was in no shape for anything more strenuous.

Nevertheless, she knelt as the arms of the cart were hitched to her bonds. She audibly groaned as the driver climbed aboard and ordered her to her feet. With the flick of the whip between her shoulders, she was off. Despite the driver's steady 'encouragement' Sugarpuss could manage a pace no faster than something between walking and jogging speed. The frustrated driver hurled every curse in the dictionary at her as she struggled to control the cart.

Finally, after only a few hundred yards, Sugarpuss fell to her knees. The driver laid into her over and over with his horsewhip, ordering her to resume until he was red in the face. Soon the girl's upper back matched her well-whipped thighs. There was simply nothing left for Sugarpuss to give, she surrendered to the pain and curled up on the ground.

Phoenix threw down his whip and jumped off the cart. He quickly unhitched Sugarpuss and dragged her out of the pasture. She was hauled past the line of girls waiting under the beam and tossed to Dilios.

"String this one up, too," he ordered, then he turned to the horrified pony girls who had just witnessed the shocking cruelty. "Looks like we have two volunteers today who are ready to show what happens to insolent slaves - one, whose careless pulling endangered the safety of her master, and another who wants to demonstrate the consequences of giving up."

He went to the barn to retrieve a new whip, unfurling it before the ten waiting slaves who saw the terrible new implement in all its glory. It was a long, thick, menacing bullwhip consisting of a single strand of thick, braided leather. He pulled the whip back behind his head and snapped it forward to demonstrate its power. The loud crack was like a rifle shot. The slaves were stunned into silence. The birds stopped chirping. Even the wind seemed to calm in the almighty presence of the awful, new whip.

"Five lashes each," the guard said. "Everyone obeys. Nobody quits."

He stalked out into the field where Dilios had finished binding Sugarpuss in the same spread-eagle position as Tiny. That guard was now hurriedly undoing the laces on the girls' corsets, removing any potential protection from the application of the cruel whip.

The bullwhip was unfurled again behind Sugarpuss. The miserable woman was already completely spent. Her head lolled back and forth with her chin on her chest. She seemed to be unaware of where she was or what she was in for.

Crack! That all changed when the bullwhip slashed across her exposed back. Until now the girls might have been forgiven for thinking all whips were the same, but after seeing what the bullwhip was capable of, the horsewhip that they'd all grown accustomed to was like a gentle kiss on the cheek.

Sugarpuss threw her head back and wailed to the heavens as the supersonic leather strap sliced across her back, leaving a swath of destruction that couldn't compare to anything she'd felt from the horsewhip. The guard waited for the worst of her screams to subside, then struck her again. The second was just as bad as the first, and the third as bad as the second.

Five strikes landed across her back. By the last, Sugarpuss had fallen limp, unconscious or exhausted, it was hard to tell from the vantage of the appalled pony girls who looked on. The one who was best able to judge the status of Sugarpuss was Tiny, who had witnessed the brutal whipping from only a few feet away.

The miniscule woman was frantic with fear. She pulled and thrashed in her bonds in a futile attempt to escape. Her short legs kicked back and forth as she dangled by her wrists. She begged and pleaded to be spared, but her gag-stifled words fell on deaf ears. Dilios came up behind her and bundled her long black hair into a bun so it wouldn't hang across her back. Phoenix lined up behind her.

Crack! The whip cut across the short woman's back. Tiny screamed. And screamed. And screamed. Everyone was astonished that such a tremendous sound could come out of such a small person.

Growing impatient waiting for her screams to cease, the guard lashed out at her again, reinvigorating her agony. Three more times he laid into her. Her screams were endless, only just beginning to flag as the final blow painted its awful colored stripe on the canvas of her back. Tiny finally collapsed in her bonds, sobbing uncontrollably. Small rivulets of blood dribbled down her skin where the whip had slashed through her flesh.

The two broken women were taken down from the posts and carried into a small building on the edge of the compound - an infirmary, Nicole hoped. The rest of the ponygirls were left to stare at each other with looks of fear and concern on their faces.

Some time later the guards returned to bring the rest of the girls back to the barn for the night. One by one they were returned to their stalls. When it was down to just Cookie, Jugs, and Nicole, Phoenix sidled up to Nicole and purred in her ear. "What do you say, Princess, you want to share my bed with me tonight?"

Nicole froze. After the chaotic end to the day, she'd completely forgotten about the guards taking two unlucky girls with them for 'extra attention' in the evening. The guard's arm snaked around her body, one hand seeking her tits, the other dropping between her legs. She gasped as his fingers parted her labia and a calloused digit slipped up into her dry pussy.

"Nnngh," she pleaded.

"No?" he said. He pulled his hands from her body and moved down the line to Jugs. "Maybe you're right. We should give someone else a turn." He mauled the other slave's heavy breasts with his meaty paws. "I bet Jugs is just dying to give me a good titty fuck, right?"

"Unngh! Nnngh!" Jugs tried to twist out of his grasp.

"Ooh, a feisty one," the guard said. "I bet you're a lot of fun."

With his mind made up, Nicole was taken back to her stall and chained in place, leaving Cookie and Jugs resigned to their fate as the guards' entertainment for the night.

Once all eight remaining girls had been affixed to their stalls Achilles stomped up and down the row inspecting his tired, hungry, miserable, and frightened slaves.

"Before you are served dinner tonight you will remove all your gear and hang it nicely on the hooks we've provided you in your stalls. I expect everything to be cleaned and in good order, or you will not be fed tonight. As ponygirls aren't much for conversation, I'll remind you that your tongues can be useful for other purposes."

He let those words sink in as the girls began the process of removing their gear. Nicole unbuckled her bit, flexing her jaw as she pulled it out of her mouth. She inspected it for any dirt, noting the new bite marks she'd managed to put into the leather during the day, then she hung it up on a hook in the side wall.

Next, she loosened the laces on the corset and shrugged out of it. The relief of being free from its crushing grasp was immense. She took a moment to inhale several deep breaths, relishing the feeling of her chest expanding unhindered for the first time all day. The corset, too, was fairly clean. Nicole tidied up the laces and hung it up next to her reins.

Now she unbuckled her shoes and removed them from her feet. She moaned as her toes slid free from their tight hold, flexing her poor, aching feet. She noted, as she inspected the shoes, that they were caked in a layer of coarse dirt. She tried scraping it away with her fingernail, but the dirt was plastered to the leather. She looked across the aisle to the other girls to see how they were handling the problem.

Dimples, next to Cookie's empty stall, was also trying to scrape the dirt off with her fingers. When that didn't work she tried spitting on the tarnished leather. This mostly served to smear the dirt around, and Dimples soon realized that, in her dehydrated state, she was running low on saliva. She finally came to the conclusion that her only realistic way of getting the shoes clean was with her tongue.

Nicole watched as the other girls came to the same realization. She followed suit, cringing as she stuck her tongue out and lapped at the gritty, brown dirt. She silently raged against the humiliation of having to lick her footwear clean. Soon her hated shoes glistened with saliva. She set them up on a small shelf near the rest of her gear.

The only thing left now was her tail. After a long day marching about, her tight hole had closed firmly around the base of the plug. She grasped the tail part firmly and wriggled it, noting the uncanny sensation as she tried to coax the hard rubber out of her ass. She gasped as the widest part of the plug stretched past her anus and the entire thing suddenly slid free.

Nicole looked down at the unwelcome intruder that had spent the better part of the day up her butt. It smelled awful and was flecked with shit. Her mind reeled and her stomach turned as she realized that she was expected to clean this as well. She looked about her stall, desperate for something other than her tongue to make use of. She settled on a handful of straw from her bedding. She rubbed it up and down the filthy, stinking plug, but rather than cleaning it off, it seemed only to get little pieces of straw matted into the shit, making the mess all the more obvious.

Nicole's thoughts raced. She looked at her empty food and water bowls. She was so hungry, and so thirsty. But was it worth this?

As if reading her mind, the guard reminded the girls that they only had a couple minutes left then added, "anyone who doesn't do a satisfactory job in time will miss dinner. And, you will finish the job under the close personal attention of me and my riding crop."

That settled it. There was no choice, only humiliation and punishment. Nicole could hear the girls around her reacting to the new information. Their gags and retches and sobs echoed throughout the barn as they lapped the shit off of their dirty butt plugs. Nicole could feel her own stomach rebel as she took her plug into her mouth. If she'd had anything in her stomach to begin with, she'd have puked it up all over the floor. With shaking hands and tears in her eyes, she finally finished the job and hung the tail on a hook mounted on the wall.

The guard called time. "I'll be coming around to inspect your gear now. I would also like to note that anyone who tried to wipe their tails clean with her hands ought to lick her fingers clean. It is definitely not acceptable for a ponyslave to go around smelling like shit."

Nicole sobbed some more as she regarded her filthy fingers. This wasn't fair! Why were they so cruel? She wasn't even hungry as the guard came by to dispense the foul slop that comprised her dinner. She ate it anyway, knowing that hunger would only make her weaker and more apt to receive punishment from these evil handlers.

It seemed the guard's threats had worked - everyone passed his inspection and was fed and watered. He turned out the lights and left the woman alone to cry themselves to sleep. He, meanwhile, went off to partake in the fun going on back at the barracks.