Chapter 2
II
When she reached the stable-door I opened it for her. It was almost evening now and the sun had begun to set. Its golden rays illuminated her pretty face, her copper hair and the freckles on her frowning face.
Once outside, Laura looked around and took in the ample ranges I had in the back of my house, bordered by those fences and hedges. She sa now other human being, no potential saviour. She tried to look at me, but I had already hooked a leash to her head harness, and I pulled it once to see if that would produce the desired effect. And indeed she screamed as the mouthpiece was pressed painfully against her palate.
"Oaugkh!!"
"Shhh, don't scream like that. Ponys don't scream, they whinny. Let me hear a whinny, as if you were a little pony. Can you do that?"
"Whugh!!"
"No, That's not really the sound I had in mind." I pulled the leash again, this time a bit more careful.
"Mrough! Mrouagh..." She tried to talk with more effort and more anxiety but couldn't form even one comprehensible word. I had to pull the leash once more to stop her babbling on like that. There were some more sobs and finally she submitted and aborted her fruitless trials.
She blinked and produced the most pitiful whinny I had ever heard. "Wh... wheee!"
"Very good. For that you'll get a piece of sugar."
I took a small lump of sugar from my pocket and pushed it behind her bit with my fingers. She stared at me in disbelief, but she didn't spit it out. Instead her tongue moved to draw it in and she slurped on it until it started to dissolve. What she did not know was that I had combined the sugar with a drug that is normally used on mental patients. Higher doses would make her more compliant, calm her down and ease her mind. In fact, it would lower her IQ after some time and render her more easy to control. But that would be a slow process – the effects would set in only gradually.
"Now come on, you can practice your walk a bit. You'll get used to your hooves much faster then you expect now, believe me."
She tried to shake her head once more, even tried to protest again. No wonder since she was clearly used to being treated like a human. But I pulled the leash once more to show her that I was serious. She groaned, white teeth gnashing down on the u-shaped gag. I was in utter, complete control of the situation, and she had to accept that fact. She stumbled forwards, following my lead.
I walked fast towards the range. She had problems keeping up with me. But I didn't cut her any slack, because I was convinced it would be wrong to go soft on her so early. Instead I started walking her around, following the fences, making meter after meter while she panted and moaned and sobbed and sometimes screamed into her gag behind me. She fell to the ground twice, but she just needed one or to hash jerks on her leash to get her up again. Her knees were a little grazed now, but mostly she just got more and more dirty as we went.
I can not explain in simple words how much I enjoyed the situation. Fresh air, the warm evening sun, a pleasant walk through the countryside. The wheezing, gasping, helpless girl following my lead. Every time she tried to protest or object, all I had to do was punish her with a tug at the leash. There was also the crop on my belt, but not once did I have to resort to using it. The feeling of control was absolute. It made me feel at peace with the world.
When the sun had finally set, the security system automatically activated the lamps on the compound. I turned around and really looked at Laura, maybe for the first time in about an hour. She was so beautiful!
The training and exhaustion had essentially turned her into a subhuman. Laura was covered in sweat, and tears and snot were running down her face. Foam was dripping from her mouth. Her jeans and shirt were completely soaked. She let her head hang like a tired mare after a day of work on the fields. My new filly didn't have much stamina. I knew I would have to work on that as well.
But for now Laura was just in the state I wanted her to be in: Nearly too tired to cry, just jerking in the harness from time to time, her eyes as good as closed. She was beaten and finished for today and she was too exhausted to think straight. Most of the hope to be set free had left her and she was following me willingly as I lead her back into the stables. Just when I opened a box for her, some life flushed back into her eyes.
"Hrgmaagh... gghough!!" That was an attempt to remind me what I had promised: That I would set her free after some time in the harness. The box scared her because bringing her here looked a lot as if I intended to keep her (and frankly, yes, that was exactly what I was planning to do).
I did not answer her. A trainer does not enter discussions with the animal he trains. I raised the leash just a little, and this time she remembered instantly what sort of noises she was supposed to produce.
"Wh...eeeegh...!"
Laura whinnied with trembling panic and stumbled into the box, nearly too exhausted to lift her hooves anymore. She fell down there. She looked up at me from her place in the hay, maybe still hoping against all indication that I would release her now. She gasped when I took a knife from my pocket.
"Don't worry, I am not going to hurt you. But you will spend the night here and you should be able to use the bucket there in the corner. Which means that I will take your clothes off."
I pointed over to said bucket as I approached her. She stared at it, shook her head, protested again. She tried to crawl away from me. So I had to grab her and pin her down before I could cut her clothes and methodically remove them.
First I removed her jeans and the simple white slip she was wearing. The her shirt and the bra beneath it. Her skin was warm and moist, and feverishly hot from the training. Her body was indeed a runners' body: She was very slender and wiry with especially sinewy thighs and calves. And of course, her skin was white as a sheet but covered with freckles everywhere, especially on her collarbone and her back. Her breasts themselves were small. Her pink nipples quickly hardened when they came in contact with the cool air.
I let go of her. She clenched her legs, but not before I had seen that her pussy was pink with small, closed lips and a litte reddish hair covering it. As I stood up, Laura crawled into one corner of the box as fast as she could. What a shy filly.
"You should get some sleep" I told her with a smile. "I'm going to look after you in the morning. And then we will start your real training."
I spent the night nearly without sleep, but it was okay that way. I knew that Laura would have a hard time in the box while I was doing what needed to be done.
I used a virtual host to simulate her smartphone logging into the net from a city 150 kilometres away, and I used her social media accounts to plant a few hints that she was fed up with school. I made this virtual version of Laura Kruger google some hiking routes towards the border, most of them leading through rough terrain. She had also googled stuff like sleeping bags and a sturdy rucksack.
Laura Kruger had been angry at her parents and she had been frustrated at school. She had run away and set out on a hiking trip to god knows where. Maybe to spend some time alone, maybe to meet someone, maybe to have adventures abroad. Who knew? She would disappear in the woods and marshes eastwards, and she would never be seen again.
It was a good night for me and every minute I spent knowing that she was in my possession was as sweet and as delicious as a good wine. I only slept a few hours, right at the end, after I had burned her clothing and hidden her phone in a very safe place. After I had had my morning coffee I showered and walked back to her to see how she was.
When I returned to the stables the next morning and opened her box she was just lying there, only half-conscious, blinking tiredly. Of course she couldn't possibly have slept during the night. Most likely she had been lying awake and could only manage to drift away from time to time. Laura had dark rings under her eyes now. She also had to be extremely thirsty. And some flies had found her and were feeding from her salty skin.
"Raaagh." Her voice was more than just a bit coarse. I approached her with a cattle-prod in my hand and touched her left butt cheek lightly with it. She screamed, then whinnied.
"Hraagh… whee… wheehee…!" Some tears followed, but not many.
"I did that just to remind you: Behave, be a good one, or you'll be punished."
I walked over to the bucket and saw that she had to have have gotten up during the night to take a dump. I ordered her to stand up, and when she managed after the third attempt, I nodded. I took some straw and cleaned her with it, used a second hand full of straw to wipe her grimy skin, until she was red all over and was biting down on her bit in fresh discomfort.
"Turn around, let me see your arms."
She obeyed and I ran my hands over the restaints. Her flesh was bulging under the pressure of the leather straps, her wrists and elbows reddened. I was sure the bondage had been especially hellish at night. But my preparations had paid off, because her limbs were obviously in good shape and circulation was still ensured.
"They look good. Very nice, I think they are safe back here."
She groaned in helpless protest, and I could imagine what she wanted to tell me. But after I had finished checking her bondage, I emptied a bucket with fresh water into her trough. She stared at it with red-brimmed eyes, blinking helplessly and moaning. Yes, she was definitely very thirsty.
"I know, you want me to ungag you. But no, that's not going t happen. You can drink with the bit n your mouth. Wait a moment... there, That's better, isn t it?"
I had pulled the bit itself out of her mouth, but even with it hanging loosely around her neck, she wasn't any more capable to utter even one intelligible word. Because the second part of the mouthpiece, the one that was rubber-coated and pressed upwards against her palate, still was in place. It still forced her to keep her mouth half open, giving her a slightly retarded and completely helpless look. Some spittle flew off her lower lip as if she was some half-wit inbred.
"Eagh! Hi-eck!" I didn't have to understand the words, I didn't even want to understand them. What I wanted was that she started to realize that human speech was off-limits for her. I raised the electric cane and she twitched when she saw it move, a shriek escaping her dribbling mouth. When the cane hit her small, firm, pale ass she just jerked a little bit though. It was on a low setting, a little painful but no more than that.
Tears in her eyes again. I knew this was natural, that it was part of the process. This transformation was nothing that could be achieved easily or without a lot of turmoil. It was okay that way. It was part of what attracted me to this whole situation.
She whinnied and I considered that to be a good sign. I awarded her with another piece of sugar for her compliance, pushed it between her half-opened, warm and wet lips so she could roll it around in her open mouth with her tongue. It made Laura drool some more, but that was okay. She looked gorgeous, and would absorb most of the psychotropic drug.
I motioned her over to the trough with the cane in my hand, nodding at her. "Drink as much as you can. It's going to be a long day."
She got down on her knees whimpering, clearly worried a lot about the long day I just had promised her. But that didn't stop her from putting her head deep into the trough, her face touching the water. She gulped it down with loud, slurping noises, not yet used to drinking with the gag. She got some of it into her windpipe, came up coughing loudly, water flowing from her mouth and nose, but dipped back in after some seconds. I meanwhile, watched her from behind. What a cute, modest pink pussy. It was tempting to just take her from behnd. But I also knew it would be much too early.
"That's enough."
She tried to shake her head – I could see the motion, even though her collar prevented her from really doing it. Another strike with the cane, another shocked yelp. But like the last one, this yelp also sounded a bit as if she was getting used to the feeling , not liking it but accepting it as my way of correcting her mistakes. And I could see in her eyes that she was apt to not make any mistake twice.
"You need to learn how to behave. I don't want to punish you and you don't want to be punished either, do you?"
"Wh... wheeegh!" There was much frustration and even a bit of anger in that sound. But that as well was okay for now. I offered her a second piece of sugar, and since she hadn't eaten in nearly a day she took it between her lips as quick as the other one.
"Good girl. Stand."
She did so, her sinewy white legs wobbling a little bit, her nipples erect even though the air in the stable was quite warm. There were goosebumps on her freckled skin. She looked at me shyly. She didn't fight when I placed the bit in her mouth again and strapped it tight.
"Let s go. Like I said, we have a long day ahead of us."
The sun shone down warm on both of us as I took her outside and lead her onto the training grounds. As much as the blinders allowed, she gaped left and right to see if anyone was here. Sure, she was hpoing that sooner or later someone would be looking for her. She had no idea that I was planning to keep her as my pony on a very long term basis.
"Go girl, come on. Faster, move."
I made her walk with me so that she could warm up. She still moved quite insecure on her hooves, but she had improved a little since yesterday. After two or three rounds she had found at least a little balance. Her cheeks were flushed from the workout, her mouth drooling again.
After half an hour she was ready for the real training to begin: I locked her leash to a high pole, situated in the middle of our training grounds and I made her walk around it. Then I started teaching her how to prance, correcting her walk, striking her buttocks and the backs of her thighs every time she did a wrong step or didn't lift her hooves high enough. It was hard work for her and once again she started sweating, moaning and crying. But this time it was also different than yesterday: Yesterday she may have told herself that this was just a madman who was torturing her, and that she would be free soon enough. But now she had slept a night in the bondage. She was dirty and smelly, she had shat in a bucket and drank water from a trough. And here she was again, in the same training area, being trained, corrected and punished like an animal.
No wonder that she was falling apart in front of my very own eyes.
First I could see her arms twitch in the straps. She shook her useless, leather-encased fists in the bondage, the muscles showing through the skin on her thin arms, as if she hoped that by some miracle she would find a way to free herself after all. Her eyes had first stared into the distance, but now they were darting here and there, searching for something for anything.
She did not see anything to give her hope of course. Her cries got louder now with every touch of the electric cane and I could see the frustration and defiance build up inside her. I felt pity for her. But that did not mean that I did not incredibly enjoy the situation.
There were to options: I could go softer on her now, and give her a break. Or I could go on and bring things to their inevitable conclusion. I decided that it was unavoidable for things to boil up sooner or later. And I decided that it would be better for both of us if I let them boil up right now.
So I started correcting her more severely, watching her every move and penalizing every mistake, how small it ever was. My filly struggled with the punishments, sweating and drooling more intensely. Her face contorted into a mask of effort and pain. First she tried everything to meet with my expectations, but her legs were already too tired, the hooves too heavy on her feet, her restrained arms making it much harder to keep her balance.
So she stumbled twice, fell to the ground, got up grunting and crying and shrieking again when I hit her with the cane to make her move faster.
After another thirty minutes she broke. She started to scream even louder, turned to me, shrieked hysterically and teared at the straps holding her. Her grey eyes were not rain-coloured anymore, but instead they had the darker colour of a destructive stormfront. Laura Kruger was a bundle of hate, desperation, fear and disgust. She even stomped her hooves in a helpless, childish gesture of protest, which was especially cute. She tried to shake her head fervently, even thought she had to understand by now that the collar would not allow it.
"Mruuuugh! Aouuuuumh waah-uuu naaaaah! HROUAAAAGH!!!"
I set the cane to a higher power level and hit her with it while I repeatedly told her to calm down, to be a good filly, to behave. Of course she didn't. There was a bright blue spark when I slapped the instrument against her left side and the pain made her cringe, but she continued with her fruitless protest. She even would have jumped at me if the leash hadn't restrained her movements to the small area around the pole.
So I continued to punish this wild creature. While I ordered her to stand, to get into position, to obey, I hit her with another shock every some seconds, which made her more frantic and more hysteric, with snot and tears and sweat flowing over her face and dripping down from her lips and chin as she did her little, useless dance.
It took several minutes until she tired and fell to her knees, sobbing with her head lowered as much as the collar allowed.
"Haagh ... haaagh... gh... ouhgh..." Laura was wheezing, her nostrils flaring. The girls red, curly hair stuck to her face moist skin like a mask. I bowed down and brushed it away, then started to stroke her face gently. That made her sob again, weak and exhausted. She was so defeated and so hopeless that she leaned against me.
"Maybe I was a bit too hard on you" I said. "You need more time to learn and you might just need a break and something to eat. Don't you think so?"
She nodded, slowly and humiliated. I immediately punished her with a slap and a weak shock against her left tit, and she jerked, cried out beneath her breath and then, without pause, produced a whinney.
She looked up to me, her grey eyes shimmering. Don't be angry, this glance said without words. I want to do everything the right way. Don't punish me. Please understand that I am scared.
I stroked her head and deactivated the crop. "I know you are tired. But you can do better, I am positive on that. You did not perform too bad. I just know you could be so much better if you really tried."
It must have been surreal for her to see me smiling like this, supportive and comforting. But I knew that it was also what she needed. It gave her some hope that I might be insane, but that I could also show a friendly side. It built a connection between us. A very thin connection? Yes, definitely. But once it was established, I would work on it and maybe strengthen it.
I offered her another lump of sugar, pushed it between her slimy lips past the bit. She sucked it thankfully. And she whinnied weakly, obviously to thank me or to please me.
"That's a good filly! Come on, follow." I gestured for her to get up. She stumbled to her feet, her knees still wobbly and legs shaking. And as I lead her back to the stables she followed me without any resistance left.
