Allison's Descent into Slavery Pt. 10

(This story arc takes place in an alternative reality where legal slavery exists in the United States as depicted in the stories by Joe Doe, Carl Bradford, Gentlemanmariner and a number of others. I also want to thank Carl for editing much of my work, which greatly improved the final product. All persons enslaved, involved in slavery operations or described in explicit sex scenes are aged 18 years or older.)

My internal clock quickly adjusted to my new circumstances. I now awoke a few minutes prior to our official wake up. Taking a moment to relish that warm comfortable feeling cuddling with Lindsey, I contemplated an explicit dream that I woke up to that left me horny with a throbbing pussy. In my fantasy I was a ponygirl hobbled in a stable being bred by a big stallion equipped with a good-sized cock, the stallion just happened to be Calum, as people casually walked by and I whinnied in bliss. After Mistress Kara had us "loosened up" with dildos last night I expected that we would be bred during pony play today, hence the unambiguous dream last night.

The dream focused my thoughts back on Calum and how much I missed my man. This new life of a slave had become so chaotic that I rarely had free moments to pine over my lost fiancé, except when I awoke early like this. How I longed to wake up once again engulfed in his strong arms as he held me close while spooning me. I adored those moments when I would roll over and just watch him sleep, sometimes running my fingers through his tousled hair or along his jawline feeling the stubble of his beard. Often I would awaken him with light kisses. His beautiful gray eyes would flutter open and I would lose myself in their depth as he uttered "good morning beautiful" or "my vision of loveliness" which was my personal favorite. God, I missed him so, his scent, the feel of his skin upon mine and the warmth of his body. Most importantly feeling loved as he held me safely in his sturdy arms. I missed him so much, especially those moments when ....

The lights flashed on, startling Lindsey awake to shouts from girls to get up and get moving. The chain attached to our collars released. As had become our morning ritual I rolled over and gave her a quick hug, kissed her on the cheek, whispering, "Together forever." Then I quickly got out of the way as Lindsey's "small bladder" leapt to her feet announcing her need to pee. She dragged me off to the bathroom to take care of business and our morning routine. Lindsey's bladder always ensured that we were on time for our morning slave yoga.

This morning we were off to the Parker Center equine facility located somewhere on the outskirts of Dallas. It turned out that pony play was a rite of passage for Broadstone consorts. Part of the tradition included zero information for the new students as to what to expect from our tight-lipped sisters who had been there before us. The standard line was something along the lines of, "have fun" or "just enjoy it" followed by knowing giggles. The one thing they told us about was the "horse trailers" used to transport the ponygirls. They regaled us with stories of being dressed in our ponygirl outfits at the school, then walked into a "horse trailer" and restrained in the standing position together and left in the dark for the trip. Being pulled behind a loud F-150 spewing diesel fumes and driven by a tall overweight hygienically challenged redneck named Al all the way to the Parker Center. One lucky slave girl always gets to "slave tip" Al with her mouth before the girls are led out of the trailer. Three even told me that Al had an affinity for red-heads. Yikes! This sounded awful.

Lindsey and I were allowed to look up the Parker Center facility online in the days leading up to our pony play date. It was the preeminent ponygirl/boy training and recreational establishment in the region. It hosted harness racing, steeplechase, and dressage events. The center trained and stabled ponies with available "play" stables for "quality time" with your pony. There were also carriage trails where owners could go out into the country pulled by their ponies for picnics or just to get some fresh air. There was even a map with all of the randomly placed breeding stands that were available for use. All individuals participating in sexual activities on site, whether free or slave, were required to pass an Insta STD test validating they were disease free. This also meant that condoms were not required leaving some ponygirls a dripping mess if subject to multiple breedings.

The famous Breeding Barn Café, where patrons enjoyed fine dining or a drink at the bar, was located at Parker Center. The terraced seating was arranged such that ponygirls were hobbled in the middle of the establishment and bred by stallions as entertainment. Older ponygirls, often those who had given birth, were referred to as "mares" while younger women without children were called "fillies". It was not uncommon for couples into pony play to have the ponygirl FINO wives hobbled and bred by a train of stallions while the husbands compared notes at the bar regarding their mare's performance.

The sensors in their ponygirl tails apparently tracked their climaxes, announcing for all to see when a red siren-like light located above the breeding stand lit up. The website had a short video clip of a breeding depicting a humiliating scene where the poor ponygirl was tied down and vigorously pounded by a big well hung stallion. That red light kept turning on again and again and again, indicating that this particular mare was having a hell of a good time. There was also a patron breeding area out back aptly named the Petting Zoo where patrons, with the owner's permission of course, could breed the ponygirls in private stalls.

As part of our research we learned that there were different types of ponygirls. Some were solely trained for competition in harness racing or the dressage events while others were jacks of all trades. The dressage events in my opinion were ballet in hooves while dressed like a horse. The male events were broken down into subcategories of stallions and geldings with the stallions concentrated in harness racing while the geldings focused on the dressage events.

All ponies at the center wore a specialized electronic choke collar that transforms any attempt at human speech into corresponding horse sounds. This effectively eliminated all normal forms of human communication. I giggled at the thought of how one of these would translate some of the expressions I made when climaxing into horse sounds. Lindsey being the type-A perfectionist even had me practicing tossing my head while whinnying and stomping my right hoof, making the universal pony gesture for yes.

This morning it was good to be naked again in slave yoga without restrictions. All three of my climaxes involved visualizing my Calum stallion breeding his little filly with his horse shaft. According to the Parker Center website, stallions have shafts, not cocks. It was nice to be able to start the day off right again. What did this say about me I wondered? At the end of slave yoga Mistress Kara again identified the six of us participating in pony play today. Each of us had to have three enemas during personal hygiene, eat an extra half can of slave chow and to meet Mistress Kara at her desk with a full water bottle at 7:50 a.m. sharp for inspection. After breakfast and getting cleansed and cleaned up we all passed inspection.

Security Officer Haynes was waiting for us and took control of us from Mistress Kara. We were advised by SO Haynes that she was responsible for getting us on our "horse trailer" for transportation to Parker Center and that she would accompany us for the trip. Then she led us away to a chorus of whinnies from our sisters who were enjoying our discomfort. Our "horse trailer" turned out to be an eight passenger van with tinted windows. Before boarding we were given "flip flops" for our feet. We were unrestrained for safety reasons and reminded that our collars could knock us out if we misbehaved. Finally, we were reminded that it was going to be a hot day in early June. SO Haynes directed us to empty our water bottles before arriving to insure we were properly hydrated and then we were off. Is there something wrong with me if deep down a part of me was still looking forward to "slave tipping" Al?

During our trip there was time to reflect upon my current situation with regards to my past life and my relationship with Calum. I was steadfast in my belief that Calum was searching for me and once found we would be reunited. This one constant kept me going. For some reason I did not feel as though I was unfaithful to Calum when having sex with Lindsey and my sister slaves. It simply did not feel like cheating because no men were involved. Today at the Parker Center I knew that I would have sex with a man at least once if not more. It was simply unavoidable. Mentally I had accepted this when I fell asleep last night but what did it say about my relationship with Calum if I enjoyed the sex acts by climaxing?

On that first morning when Amelia had dropped me off at the Big D, she had told me that being slave naked was liberating. In fact, she described me as slave inventory, a piece of livestock, telling me I had a free pass to have sex with another a man or woman and nobody would care because I was just living down to the lowly status of a slave, the pleasure slut which everyone saw me as now. Headmistress Spalding told me I had done nothing wrong having sex at the Big D because as a slave I had no choice, reminding me that I had no control over how my body was used. Dr. Allen encouraged me to view everything that I did as a slave as training to become a better wife to Calum.

If I enjoyed the sex was I a slut? My answer is no. A slut chooses to have sex with many partners while a slave lacks the ability to make that choice. So I was not a slut even if I ended up enjoying the sex. I would follow Amelia's advice to embrace and enjoy this experience as best I could with the caveat that no matter what happened she would still love me. I was going to hold her to that promise as I longed to be reunited with my Calum.

Any unfaithfulness to Calum on my part involved my lack of honesty about starting the dance studio business that was my mother's plan B. Once that lie took root it had taken on a life of its own. He had sensed that I did not want to go into business, telling me that he would support my decision either way. He never told me what he wanted me to do and I wish he had. I was confused. Did I go off birth control because I was ready to be a mother, was it to avoid starting a business or a little of both? Regardless, these were issues that the two of us still needed to work through and I knew we could because we were destined for each other. I was wondering how Calum was adapting to my absence when we arrived.

The Parker Center was huge with a number of large barns, two covered and lighted standard sized dressage arenas and two outdoor Olympic dressage arenas. We drove up to one of the many stables on the property where we were met by an intern named Penny Parker who led us into the tack room in the nearest stable.

En route we walked by a ponygirl getting bred. She was all decked out in her ponygirl regalia, horse blinders, anal plug tail tied up into a stump, bells jingling from her nipples and hands secured behind her back in an armbinder, bent face forward over a bar waist height with her bridle secured to the floor holding her head in place so that she could not look to the sides due to her blinders. Her feet were pulled apart and a rope attached to the armbinder around her wrists pulling her arms up, holding her in place bent over. One of the trainers was banging her hard while another was oiling up the cock of a stallion waiting his turn. Oh my god! The ponygirl was drooling like a wanton slut! She was making weird sexual horse sounds until she let out a loud high pitched wailing neigh while arching her back in a ponygasm, making my pussy water in anticipation. I overheard a stable hand refer to that orgasmic neigh as the "Call of the Ponygirl". For some reason hearing this spiked my slave heat. The advice of my sisters to "have fun" and "just enjoy it" came to mind once again.

Once lined up in the tack room we were greeted by the Head Trainer Judith Parker who welcomed us to Parker Center before handing us off to Trainer Jo Estes and three interns, her niece Penny Parker, Bret Hansen and John Aillo.

"Collar," ordered Trainer Estes.

All six of us quickly kneeled assuming the correct position by pulling our hair away from our necks. SO Haynes quickly removed our Broadstone collars while Trainer Estes promptly replaced them with Parker Center collars. Once the new collars were in place the interns put our hair into high ponytails and we were ordered to stand.

"You are at the Parker Center Equine Facility in Dallas, Texas. You have been enrolled at the Parker Center for training as a ponygirl. During the time you are here, you will be treated as a slave. I am required by law to tell you that the slave collar you were just fitted with can deliver a powerful and extremely painful electric shock if you attempt to leave this property without permission. The pony tails we use can also emit a debilitating shock and a less painful shock used for punishment. The collar and the tail are fitted with GPS devices. The tail also acts as a large vibrator and tracks when you climax. Additionally, all Parker Center employees are authorized to use any means deemed necessary to compel you to comply with all orders given to you, and those means include electrical shock and whipping. If you follow my instructions, you will not be hurt. Do you understand?" announced Trainer Estes.

We all answered in affirmative or at least we tried but only jumbled horse sounds came out. Quickly realizing that we were now voiceless Lindsey and I tossed our heads while whinnying and stomping our right feet, making the universal ponygirl gesture for yes. Thank god for Lindsey's type A personality. Our other four sisters just looked around in confusion.

"You have been devoiced. Your collars only allow you to make horse sounds during your training here." A loud happy wailing neigh emanated from the stable announcing another ponygasm interrupting her speech as my pussy throbbed at the sound. My slave heat spiked again as I fantasized how it would feel to sound the "Call of the Ponygirl" while being bred. "To survive here you will need to communicate as ponies. You two, step forward," she said, as she pointed to Lindsey and me.

The two of us strode forward demonstrating how to say yes using the universal ponygirl gesture for yes. For no, we swung our heads sideways while making a "neigh" horse sound. Then we were given our pony names. I became Spice while Lindsey became Daisy and Sandy was renamed Bella followed by Rose, Flower and Blaze.

Then it was time to be shoed as they put it. The trainer knew my shoe size. We sat on benches as they put us into what could best be described as boots with small horseshoes on the bottom with the heel located far about the toes, much like wearing five or six inch heels. The boots rose almost to our knees and were laced tightly around our calves. When I stood I was standing on my fore feet, with my calves absorbing some of my weight similar to my experience with ballet. While walking around to get the feel for these boots I noticed that the horseshoe added weight to my feet making it awkward at first to walk before I quickly got the hang of it. Years of ballet had definitely prepared me for this moment.

Next came our 6" by 4" anal plug with tails that matched our hair color. It turned out that Aunt Judy was personally training her niece, Penny Parker, on her first week on the job after graduating from college. Aunt Judy noticed Lindsey's eyes bulged out upon seeing the plug. Walking over to Lindsey, Aunt Judy stroked her on the cheek and then put a small device on the middle finger of her left hand.

"Penny, watch me use this finger vibrator to give Daisy here an orgasm. You need to learn how to properly manipulate the ponies for the tail insertion," advised Aunt Judy.

Penny Parker was an extremely cute little green-eyed blonde, with a tight figure and oversized breasts that seemed unaffected by gravity. I also noticed that little Penny seemed scared of her own shadow. Penny had a look of wide-eyed fascination as Aunt Judy worked over Lindsey.

"Do not go straight for her clitoris. Work the vibrator around her pussy lips, push it in a little and then rub it around her clit," explained Aunt Judy, as Lindsey's pussy got wetter and her breathing became more labored. Soon I could smell her arousal.

"Once you have her on edge, and given time you will learn to read your pony's arousal, you hone in on her happy button and push her over the edge like this," she continued, as she circled Lindsey's skittle with her magic finger.

The ponygasm building up within Lindsey bucked out of her body as she let out a happy whinny. I swear, Aunt Judy was a maestro bringing Lindsey to a frenzy in mere minutes. Now that is an efficient ponygirl trainer.

My turn! I wanted, no I needed my first ponygasm. How had I become a total climax chasing slut in less than a week? Penny hesitantly approached me with her finger vibrator on. Reaching down she started massaging my very moist pussy with the finger vibrator. It was weird. One moment she was hitting all of my buttons and then she became a klutz. This pattern persisted. I would be right on the edge and then she would mess it up. After being teased or edged one too many times I let out a frustrated whinny and stomped my hoof. Then it dawned on me, she knew her way around a woman's vagina like an experienced lesbian but did not want her Aunt Judy to know.

"Penny, you're not fooling me. Just finish it," chuckled Aunt Judy. "I won't tell your mother."

Penny, face turning beet red as her aunt figured out her secret, demonstrated her true competency. Turning my cunt into mush, she drove the vibrator deep into my sopping hole where she gave it a twirl causing me to gasp. She found highly responsive nerve endings deep within my core driving me towards a frenzy. Suddenly, she pulled her magic finger out of my sex and rang my devil's doorbell as I shuddered in my eruption. A bizarre wailing horsey neigh escaped my lips as I made the Call of the Ponygirl announcing my first ponygasm to the world.

"Good job. I knew you had it in you," snickered Aunt Judy, as she led Lindsey to a leather bench similar to Mistress Kara's. "Bend over the bench with your arms dangling over the other side so I can give you your tail. You other two interns watch how I insert the tail."

After donning a plastic glove on her right hand Aunt Judy grasped Lindsey's sizable butt plug while massaging her pussy with the other hand. Yanking out the plug she placed it in a tray next to the bench.

"These Broadstone slaves are easy to tail. They have been trained to take plugs in preparation for pony play and anal sex," she lectured, as she continued to massage Lindsey's dripping kitty with her vibrating finger. There was a big canister of lube on the table with a pump top. Pushing down with her right thumb she collected some lube on her fingers and massaged it into Lindsey's back passage.

"Only work one or two fingers into her asshole. She is already loose; I am just ensuring there is sufficient lube in her ass to receive the plug. Then you coat the tail plug with lube and turn it on low vibrate," she continued as she prepped the plug. Showing the interns the manual control she proceeded to rub the point of the plug on Lindsey's starburst while once again massaging her pussy with her magic finger.