Ponyboy vignettes

His owner inspected the garter belt that the renters had left on him. "We'll have to get you some special stockings to go with these, Special Surprise. I've been thinking for a while that we need to refresh your look, and leather-pony is always a good earner. Slaveboy, you've got an eye for these things: see to it."

"Yes, mistress!"

****************

Jessica's laugh tinkled through the air as her long whip cut into the flesh of the lumbering beast of a ponyboy who had been her new lover's husband. She verbally abused him as he hopped and skipped around the paddock, and did her best to make a show of motivating him to perform better. Jessica saw the look on Dee's face - a mixture of pity and exasperation. Jessica grinned. Finally, gone was the concern Dee had had for the man she had arrived on their planet with.

"Get your knees higher, ponyboy! Ugh! You are lazy and recalcitrant, you curr!" shouted Jessica.

"He's not coming along like we'd hoped, is he?" said Dee.

"No, my love, he's not."

The whip cracked again, and again, and the ponyboy neighed his agony out to the three people who could hear him in the country field where Jessica had driven them in her rented groundcar. Those three were Dee, his short and curvy wife who had come to the planet with him as refugees, her lover, Jessica, who for the past month had made the ponyboy's life a living hell while seducing away the woman he loved, and Jessica's petmale Fluffball, who was being held on his leash by Dee. The ponyboy had caught Dee's admiring glances over the young, toned petmale, and he burned with jealousy.

Jessica didn't let up. She had the ponyboy on the run, so to speak. She had attached him to a stout 30-metre leash that she'd driven into the ground, so all the ponyboy could do was try to prance in circles as she lashed and lashed at his defenceless skin and kept him from ever relaxing into it. It was a shame that the truth drug he'd been given had revealed he was most suited to ponification; if he'd come out as petmale-suitable, Jessica would have convinced Dee to keep him.

"He's a hopeless oaf, Dee. I'm sorry, but that's just how it is."

"Would it? I mean... Would it help if we got a professional trainer in?"

"Ponyboy hearing: pony words only," said Jessica. "I know male animals inside out, my love. It's not that he can't be trained, it's that he can't be trained by you and me. Specifically by you, really, but seeing as I'm never letting you go, that means by me too; he'll never let us be happy together."

"But he gave up five more years of his life - a ten-year contract - just to spare me the humiliation of entering this world as a slave. All for me. I owe him for that, I can't just give him away."

"You owe him happiness for that, that's true, my sweet love. You have such a kind way of looking at things. And that's why we have to sell him on to someone who can make him the happy ponyboy he can be - because he'll never release himself from the bonds of his old life so long as you're around."

"Never?"

"Never."

"But ... he was my husband."

"Was, yes. You already filed the divorce papers, didn't you?"

"I want to marry you instead, you know that."

"I know, my love. I can't make you happy if he's always around. Clean break, my love."

Dee started to sob and Jessica stopped whipping the ponyboy and moved to hug her. Jessica had picked her moment just right, and now Dee was nodding and crying and Jessica soothed her with kind words and gentle touches. Fluffball placed a paw on Dee's leg and started to stroke her, and Dee took one hand from around her lover to play with the petmale's hair.

"It's decided, then?" said Jessica.

"Y- y- yes. It is."

"Let's get him back in the groundcar, and we can drive to the courier and send him off."

"All right. Oh, Jessica, I can't bear to look at his eyes imploring me like that. He has no idea what's going on, does he?"

"None - he can't understand anything we're saying right now. We'll sedate him when we're in the car - the courier-slaves can unload him at the other end. He'll wake up to meet his beautiful, wonderful new owner."

"OK."

"OK."

The ponyboy drifted into sleep almost the moment he was loaded into the back of the groundcar in the kneeling cage for human animals. When he awoke, he found himself lying on straw in a small, airy barn. The air had changed - it hummed with humidity and tropical heat. His enhanced ponyboy ears picked up unfamiliar bird calls and then the sound of booted feet crunching across gravel. The barn doors creaked open.

There stood quite the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he blushed as his cock hardened at the sight of her. She looked to be in late middle-age, five and a half feet tall with the suggestion of curves underneath her equestrian clothes. They were alone together in the barn; he got up off his feet the moment she gestured for him to get up, then he adopted the display posture that Dee and Jessica had taught him. Where were they, anyway?

"Good morning, Plum. I'm glad to see that you're pleased to see me, and I do hope you like your new stallion cock - so much nicer than your old one, Plum. My name, to you, is simply 'Queen', for that is what I am to you. You will never get the chance to speak - ponies cannot talk after all - but I should so terribly like for you to think it when you see me.

"Plum, you were sold to me yesterday afternoon by your ex-wife. She sends you her love and wishes you all the happiness you can possibly achieve. Obey me, and achieve it you shall. I own the full ten years of your contract, Plum, and it will take me mere months to break you so that you will willingly sign on to be my slave for the rest of your life - I guarantee it.

"You will find my methods alternate between the brutal and the gratuitously kind. Your hairless stallion cock and balls will know great pain and great pleasure, and the rhythm of those two things will make you mine just as surely as night follows day. Stand proud, Plum - you just became my prize possession."

Plum bolted for the barn door, careful even in his panic to avoid the 'Queen' woman, for he knew his body's control nanites would shock him into a stupor if he so much as intended violence against her. She slipped gracefully to the side and uncurled an electric whip that she snaked out to wrap itself around the ponyboy's midriff even as he charged past. His limbs fell from under him and he crashed to the sandy ground just outside the barn door.

"Pain, then, is it, Plum? That's fine, my darling, that's fine. We can certainly spend your first day that way. Or ... You have one chance, and one chance only, to spend your first day with me in a much more pleasurable pursuit. That big new stallion cock has to be for something, doesn't it, Plum? Hmmm? Think about it - neigh twice for pleasure, once for pain. Be warned, my darling Plum, that if you choose pleasure and show any further disobedience, the pain will be doubled from what I had in mind. You don't want that."

The ponyboy - his name, it seemed, was Plum now - heaved in deep breaths and tried to stop shaking. He drew one more breath, and neighed, then paused, and looked into Queen's eyes, then neighed again. She gave him the most lascivious of all smiles, and started to unbelt her riding shorts, then she threw them to the ground and made Plum stand. With one hand on her property's bare rump, she guided them both back inside the little barn and shut the creaky door.

*************

Pony-sergeant A24 twirled and stamped his black-booted hooves on the dusty ground of the display field, in perfect time with the other nineteen military ponyboys that made up the human-animal part of his unit. His rider, Major Kayleigh Yates, balanced on the shoulder saddle and performed the weapon drill that was her half of the show. They moved together, her boots and spurs marking out the perfect timing of each spin and hop, and Pony-sergeant A24 tried to suppress his love for the major and focus on the drill.

He was, of course, a volunteer, as were all the military ponyboys. Non-consensuals were not welcome or desired in this way of life, and they could not be trusted with the responsibility of representing the planet's armed forces. The role was ceremonial, certainly, but the Pony-sergeant felt deep inside him that a well-functioning military needed ceremony to stay motivated. The armies of the matriarchy had not been seriously troubled by patriarchal aggression in two centuries, but standards and readiness had to be maintained.

He was proud of the way his military harness sparkled in the sunlight - the major put a lot of time and effort into polishing every last inch of it and it showed. His body was the exact same regulation size as all the other military ponyboys, somewhere between a civilian colt and stallion, but he liked to think that it was his harness that shone brightest.

His eyes flicked around the troop of ponyboys that he led. The new private and his fresh-faced lieutenant rider were doing well, syncing up seamlessly with far more experienced pairs and really showing the dedication that he'd come to expect from his team. The boy had sulked a little after his conversion, which was normal, but had perked up considerably the first night that he'd been able to 'play' with the other ponyboy-soldiers in their stables after dark. Pony-sergeant A24 had found him a delicious fuck, and he'd taken his sergeant's cock enthustiastically, as he should.

The major dug her spurs in deep and the pony-sergeant refocused his mind. The major's thighs moved just so around his neck and he executed a high-jump with a 360-spin followed by a sprinting landing. Now the troop ran as twenty evenly-spaced points in a huge circle, which slowly spread out then suddenly came back together into a tight formation that left almost no room for error between the hooves behind and the hooves in front. Sweat started to trickle beneath the proud pony-sergeant's harness.

The formation broke then came back together in four neat rows of five pairs each. They marched forward and back, side to side then in diagonal hops with careful landings designed to help the rider steady her rifle's hypothetical aim. Cocks and tails bounced and flapped as they leaped and landed; every pony had a regulation five-inch penis, which was kept flaccid during drills by the control nanites.

The sun drifted through the sky and the drills went on and on. Formations were practised and perfected, then after a little rest, a battle simulation was run. Pony-sergeant A24 and his three corporals ran it perfectly, and the sergeant flushed with pride as he saw the most experienced corporal beat the sergeant's time with the same accuracy score for their riders. The corporal was due a promotion; the sergeant ground his hoof in approval and the major vocalised an 'mmm-hmmmm'. They agreed on most things, his officer and he.

The new private held on bravely through his first live-fire drill and the pony-sergeant carefully watched for signs of exhaustion or shock. He saw none, just the shaking that came to all new military ponyboys after a plasma rifle was fired by their female rider while she braced against his shoulders. Their peaceful society had little violence in it - that was why military training for ponyboys even included battles between riderless ponies. They had to unlearn peace to help maintain it.

After the last of the drills were done, the major took the pony-sergeant back to his stable and peeled away the gleaming harness from his dirty, glowing skin. His heart beat faster as her fingers unbuckled straps and removed the medals and rosettes that decorated his body. He whinnied quietly to her when she took his cock in her hand. The tone he used meant 'yes'.

The major set his control nanites to allow erections and started to jack him off, which was the signal that the rest of the pony-sergeant's troop had also earned such a reward. That was how it worked - the major made the first judgement and the sergeant the second. Sometimes the officers jacked off their ponyboys, and sometimes they fucked them with long, thick strapons; no officer ever fucked military pony-cock like civilian owners and animals would. It wasn't done.

When he came in the Major's hand, she fed him back his own cum and she waited patiently while he licked it all from her hands. She led him by his now-flaccid cock into his stall and locked the door on a two-hour timer. The screen flared to life and the base's AI started to show him a condensed replay of the day's drilling, so that he and the other pony-soldiers could learn from each other's successes and mistakes. He focused on the images and didn't even notice when the major left. Dedication meant no distractions.

****************

The tall, thin dressage pony known as Ribbondancer watched the new potentials that his wife-owner of fifty years had brought into the stadium to audition for a place in her elite little pony-school. His wife stood next to him, her hand on his bare side, and she shouted instructions to nervous women and their equally nervous ponygirls and ponyboys. He stamped or whinnied in code, and she understood his judgements and added them to her own.

The first ponygirl up was a jumpy, non-consensual filly whose owner had dressed the girl in expensive high-tech harness and tack in a transparent attempt to make up for her lack of preparation. Ribbondancer tried to see past that to any potential the filly might have. She had a lithe little body and a few showy moves, but her nerves were getting the better of her and she failed most of his tests - not dedicated, not desirous, not really in the right place.

The filly's owner took her to the side and whipped her hard, then had the filly come forward again and run through the moves once more. She had tears in her eyes and stumbled even more, and Ribbondancer stamped his frustration at the idiocy of her young owner. Ribbondancer's wife-owner stood up on tiptoes and whispered into his ear.

"I'm going to buy her anyway, but you and I both know she'll never be a show-pony-" here the old ponyboy nodded agreement - "so I'll have her pull carts, run errands and serve as a fuck-pony for the new real trainees. It'll be a better life than the one she's got."

Ribbondancer stamped an emphatic yes and his wife-owner laughed. As head ponyboy, he would be first in line to take the new filly and let her feel the pleasures of life with others of her kind. The transaction was made and the new filly was led off by a trainer. Ribbondancer caught the smile on her face as she realised that ownership had been transferred, and he smiled at her as she passed by. He even caught her gaze lingering on his cock.

The next of the five potentials on show that day was a short, slim ponyboy who thrust out his pigeon-chest in pride and danced through a series of well-executed but very flashy jumps and twirls while his current owner tried to keep control of him. Ribbondancer stamped a firm no and his wife-owner laughed; they were both amused at the very suggestion they'd take one so prideful as this. Dressage ponies had to be centred, calm, artists rather than entertainers. The boy might have a future if he was broken properly first; Ribbondancer watched him slouch out of the stadium as his owner consoled him.

The next one was almost as bad, but in this case Ribbondancer thought the owner was really at fault. The middle-aged colt might have had some potential, but his owner never let up on the commands and the ponyboy never got a chance to really show what he could do. The owner was over-thinking the display and that made the pony falter and stumble as his mind raced to keep up - Ribbondancer had seen it a hundred times before. He stamped no and his wife-owner dismissed the pair, telling the scowling woman to trust her slave more to get better results.

That left the short and curvy ponygirl with the too-large breasts and the short and skinny ponyboy with the too-large cock. Ribbondancer knew his wife-owner - she allowed a three-inch maximum cock length for a dressage pony, and Ribbondancer had seen the other ponyboy smirk a little when they'd laid eyes on each other. Cock reduction was an effective pride-breaker for a ponyboy; for a ponygirl, breast reduction would be more about eliminating the bouncing and jiggling.

The ponygirl went first. She was centred and serene, and Ribbondancer got hard just watching her perform. His mind stopped framing thoughts and just went with her movements. She flowed and leaped, dashed and stopped, all with grace that could not be taught, only naturally possessed. Her owner seemed wise, for she kept out of the way of the ponygirl for the most part. Ribbondancer's owner bought her there and then.

That left the ponyboy. Ribbondancer had to put aside his mild dislike for the male and see what he was made of. He was pleasantly surprised to find that there was no trace of pride in his movements, only a boyish desire to please the women around him and a few signs that the ponyboy had really studied the basics of dressage and learned some valuable lessons. His owner thrashed his hide with her whip when the ponyboy made a fault, and he took it with a look of gratitude on his fine features.

Ribbondancer's wife-owner hesitated but the old ponyboy stamped an emphatic yes. There was champion material underneath the eagerness to please, and he would be worth the investment of time. His wife-owner made the transaction there and then, and patted Ribbondancer on the rump - their gesture of trust.

The three new human-animals were brought to the stables where Ribbondancer's wife-owner and her team of trainers made the necessary modifications. The new ponyboy stamped and sulked as his cock was shrunk, so one of the trainers took him out to the front of the building and left him tied up there with a sign around his neck asking passersby to take pictures with him. He was renamed Frills, after his new owner decided that she might feminise him a little.

The new trainee ponygirl seemed pleased with her new smaller breasts, and submitted willingly to having her nipples and septum pierced. Ribbondancer watched in envy as she was branded and remembered the special day so many years before when he'd received the same sign, seared into his skin. His wife-owner named the new girl Fancy Nancy. She neighed happily at that.

That left the newly acquired labour and fuck-pony. Her face fell as she was told that she would not be trained, but she perked up enormously when she found out what her new role in life was to be. It seemed that suddenly two years of non-consensual pony-slavery didn't seem so bad. His wife-owner called her Working Girl, and she rewarded the put upon pony with an orgasm from Ribbondancer's tongue. He dropped to his knees right then and there and worshipped the pussy of the girl like it was honey and wine, and waited to see if he'd be allowed to fuck her too. He trusted his wife-owner to decide if that was best

***********

"You're clear on the terms and conditions, then, young man? In exchange for five years of slavery, the first two as a ponyboy, you will become a full citizen of our world. During those five years your rights will be severely curtailed; you will be the property of a woman or a female-owned and led company, collared, likely naked, defenceless thanks to the nanites and expected to serve willingly and enthusiastically?"

From across the other side of the little desk the pale thirty-two year old nodded rapidly, then sneaked in a shy smile. After she'd found out what kind of slave the new immigrant wanted to be, the woman had asked him not to speak anymore, and he had complied happily. He'd hitched, begged, and slogged to travel so many lightyears to this promised utopia.

"Sign and strip, slave," she said to him.