{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"c78671f0-aea2-4a55-be75-3ea1ab2cc833","seriesId":null,"seriesName":null,"currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2022-03-21T12:26:10.385Z","title":"Ponygirl Copper","slug":"ponygirl-copper","shortId":"1P87xH2s","authorNote":null,"disclaimer":null,"type":"Novella","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"Laura is tricked, betrayed and transformed into a helpless ponygirl with the new name 'Copper'.","partCount":6,"parts":[{"partId":"79680041-83c1-44b3-9b8f-b01085dbf5ba","title":null,"summary":"This is one of the first stories I ever wrote. I just looked it up: It seems I published it on devia","wordCount":5756,"readTime":29,"number":1,"state":"Published"},{"partId":"d593ded8-6243-4552-97aa-39ff060e923e","title":null,"summary":"IIWhen she reached the stable-door I opened it for her. It was almost evening now and the sun had be","wordCount":3738,"readTime":19,"number":2,"state":"Published"},{"partId":"ea7a3bc7-2138-4a61-8dba-e795861baa36","title":null,"summary":"IIIIt was still morning as we got back to the stables, but the heat had increased considerably durin","wordCount":4087,"readTime":20,"number":3,"state":"Published"},{"partId":"5cdd595d-0fd2-43c2-91f7-e7a0145e2e2e","title":null,"summary":"IVI trained her the next day and the three days after that. Her face was on the news a few times. Ha","wordCount":2985,"readTime":15,"number":4,"state":"Published"},{"partId":"8cc5eae8-b1aa-4382-a23d-f967071ee3b7","title":null,"summary":"VThe next day passed like any of the others, with one small addition: Coppers mind was now showing t","wordCount":5127,"readTime":26,"number":5,"state":"Published"},{"partId":"e57524f6-3a45-47b0-b87c-d7bf88141a2f","title":null,"summary":"VII went back to the stables as soon as Hannah had gone home. I felt bad about what had happened, an","wordCount":3480,"readTime":17,"number":6,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"

This is one of the first stories I ever wrote. I just looked it up: It seems I published it on deviantart in 2010. With its dark and non-consensual themes it set the tone for most of my later work. It is also loosely connected to many of my other stories, since essentially they all take place in a shared universe.

At the time, I was surprised by the status that \"Ponygirl Copper\" achieved, and I am still humbled by its success. I guess it is a fairly straightforward story that just hit the right tone.

Newcomers be warned: I don't write nice or 'romantic' stories.

Newcomers also be warned: Yes, Copper is a young girl. I once specified her age, and I accept that some people felt uncomfortable about that. I changed it in this new version and deliberately kept her age more vague.

Since this great website popped up and I decided to pubish the story again, I could not resist changing other things as well. Small stuff mostly. It seems I am the George Lucas of kink. Someone stop me. Disney, maybe you want to buy this one like you did Georges'?

Ponygirl Copper

Chapter I

I watched her while she was throwing stones at my horses. She did it \nlaughing and giggling as if it was a funny game. She enjoyed \nseeing them jumping and trying to get away from her. Every time when they \nfled out of her reach, she walked along the fence until she could hit \nthem again. She picked new stones with care. She cast them with \ndeliberation, aiming for their heads or flanks, and she screamed in \ndelight when one of the mares started panicking and whinnying in fear \nand pain.

I watched from a good hiding spot behind the barn. I knew that she had tortured my animals before, because I had seen her on my grounds every few days in the past\nweeks. At first I had been close to just shoo her away. But for some reason I had not done that. I \nhad just kept watching.

I liked my horses. Humans, I mostly loathed. But animals were something different altogether. Caring for them made me feel at balance. So why did I endure that girls visits for so long?

I guess, in hindsight, that I took a lot of the bitterness from things I was dealing with at the time, and that I projected a lot of those dark feelings onto her. I was building up resentment and anger. She was a good projection screen.

It was a tough time in my life. I had just been bought out of my own company, and now I was sort of aimless. My wife had filed for divorce, teling me I was too controlling. She felt I did not love her anymore, that I just wanted to own her, like someone might own a trophy. And I guess she was right.

People kept telling me to move on, to enjoy the millions I had made. I was wealthy, I was in good health and had my life still ahead of me. I owned this beautiful farm in the middle of nowhere. What was I complaining about?

Date someone, friends told me. Write a book about your exploits. Found a charity. Start giving lectures at college.

You need a new project, they said. Something that will give you a new direction in life.

And they insisted: You can do whatever you want, with that amount of money. Youhave nothng to prove anymore. Just pick something that you always wanted to accomplish.

I kept watching the girl. She was still a teenager,\n tall and slender. She had red, curly hair that was tied into a practical bun, and she was very pale with freckles all over \nher face. She moved in a way that seemed awkward because she was really just so a woman, her arms and legs still a bit gangly. I am sure that she was not aware of the irony, but to me she did not look that different from some of the fillies: like them, she was moving as if she had yet to find out \nhow to use her body properly.

Every time she sneaked over to my farm, she was wearing colorful clothing. She was clearly a girl \nfrom the city on a visit in the countryside and I suspected she might be\n a resident of the boarding school on the other side of the village. City folks sent their daughters there to get an education and enjoy\n some healthy country air. But she didn't seem to enjoy her stay a lot, \njudging from her behavior.

Like I said: I came close to just shooing her away, or to informing her parents or teachers about what she did to my animals. Instead I kept watching her, week after week. I collected some information about her. At first, I just did it out of aimless curiosity.

I had given the school some money for renovations, and for a new gym. Thus, they knew me as a trustworthy benefactor. All I had to do was ask them for some statistical data, some lists and files, and they never realized I was only interested in one particular student.

Laura Kruger. A gifted runner, a mediocre pupil, often in fights. Her family paid extra fees for special tutoring, because the girl tended to get in trouble. She had been expelled from two other boarding schools already. Here at her newest school, she had already been reprimanded twice as well.

I looked at the photo that was in the file: On the portrait she looked a little younger than she really was, with her freckled snub nose, her high forehead and those large eyes (grey like the sky on a rainy day). Her mouth was just a thin line on that photo and somehow, despite her innocence, she also gave an impression of defiance.

From then on, I got more serious. Bondage and fetishwear have always fascinated me. I occasionally attended relevant parties and events for the privileged. Some time ago, a friend from that close-knit community had given me the contact information of some specialized craftsmen. I started planning. I sent them specifications. I ordered some things made that I figured I would need.

At one point I stopped dead in my tracks. This was beginning to evolve from a vague fascination into something very real. Did I really want that? What the hell was I doing?

But then I realized that this was the only thing in the past months that had filled me with excitement. When had I felt like this the last time? I smiled, then chuckled, then nodded to myself.

It was insane, yes. But this here, right now... this felt like my life often had felt before I had made my first million. The uncertainty. The adrenaline. Taking risks that others would avoid at all costs, pushing the boundaries of what people believed was doable.

No more smooth sailing for me: The thought of doing something dangerous made me feel so damn alive. There was just no way I could stop now.

But waiting for all that custom-made equipment was hard. There was a window of opportunity, and I was worried that this windows was already closing. Summer holidays would start soon. How many more times would she sneak onto my grounds before she left? What if she did not return after summer?

Bondage has always been something I enjoyed on women and I am not \ninexperienced in that resort. So, since the equipment I ordered had not yet arrived, I designed something myself: I worked in the barn for several evenings. I adjusted straps and\n buckles, I softened leather, I modified a harness. It was fun, imagining \nher in the outfit. It was also arousing, no question about that.

It\n was a Friday evening when I saw her again, doing her routine once more.\n She was wearing a yellow t-shirt, a blue corderoy jacket and short jeans. She didn't \nenjoy pestering my horses as much as she had before though: She was \ngrumpy and serious when she did it this time, her pretty face angry and \nbitter. It was easy to see that she was in a bad mood and that even torturing the animals did not brighten her up this time.

\"What the hell do you \nthink you are doing there?\" I had been right behind her for a whole minute already, and she had not noticed me. Now she whirled around, a stone in her hand, ready for the \nnext throw. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was agape. There was no chance she \ncould escape me, since the distance between us was just \nfive or six meters.

She stuttered helplessly and took one \nweak step backwards, lowering the hand with the stone in it. She had \nbeen caught in the act. She did not know what to say.

\"I, uh, no, I... sorry I did not...\"

I took a step towards her, poiting at the stone. She let it fall to the ground, cringing.

\"Do you enjoy torturing animals? That's an interesting hobby for a girl of your age. What's your name, copperhead?\"

She\n went even paler than she naturally was, which made her freckles shine \nall the brighter in her face. Only her cheeks turned scarlet. She shook \nher head in a defensive way.

\"I m Laura Kruger. Please don't…\"

\"Don't\n what? What do you think I should do now, Laura?\" I didn't \ngive her time to answer that question of course, I just pointed past the\n bushes to where my jeep was standing. \"Get into my car. We ll bring you \nto a phone and you can call your parents. But first I want to have a \ntalk with you.\"

Normally when a stranger tells a young girl to get into\n his car she might find that suspicious. But Laura didn't, \nbecause she was just too shocked and ashamed. We made our way to the jeep without\n talking and she climbed onto the front passenger seat with her breath \ngoing nervously fast. She just stared out of the window during the \ndrive.

I was exhilarated. She was here, in my car. She had now idea what I was planning for her. The window of opportunity was wider open than ever.

\"Do you tell your friends abut the dumb farmer with his dumb horses?\", I asked her, nearly growling. \"Do they laugh when you describe how you make my animals scream?\"

She shook her head, and for the first time there was a flash of defiance in her eyes. An interesting girl, that one.

\"I don't tell anyone about it\", she defended herself. \"I don't know why I do it. But I don't brag about it to anyone.\" Under her breath she added: \"I have no friends at that school...\"

\"That is at least something\", I said a little more gentle.

Since it was only a ride of three minutes to my house we \nreached it long before Laura had had time to collect herself. No one saw us, because the whole countryside is as good \nas deserted once you leave the village. And when I lead her into my home\n I knew that I had her in my hands already.High hedges and a big fence shielded most of my compound from curious glances.

Half an hour \nlater we were sitting in the kitchen. Laura had taken off her jacket. She\n was now just wearing her tat sleeveless yellow shirt with a smiley printed on the front, \nfaded jeans and a pair of mud-soaked sneakers. Her naked arms were as \nwhite and as freckled as her face and she had folded them in front of her.

I made us both a cup of tea \nand Laura held hers with long, delicate fingers. I offered her some\n cookies. I made sure that I behaved austere enough to keep her scared \nbut at the same time I calmed her down with some small talk. It was \nimportant that I gave her some hope, so that she would fall for the \nescape I was going to offer her.

Because that was how I wanted it to happen. No drug in her tea, no brute force. I wanted to see how far I could get without any of that.

\"I am sorry that I teased your \nhorses, Sir\", Laura said with some tears in her eyes and a trembling \nhand. \"I just hate it at that stupid boarding school. I hate being so \nfar away from home and I hate the food and the other girls and the \nteachers. They say I should try to make friends, but I don't want \nfriends. I just... I just want to get away from here.\"

\"You did not tease them. You tortured them\", I corrected her. \"And there is never a reason to torture \nanimals\", I took a sip from the tea. \"I am sure your parents didn't send you here to learn how to \nbe a sadistic cunt.\"

She flinched when I used that word and I had to smile in spite of myself.

\"I didn't want to be mean\", she said. \"I was just so angry and I wanted to … I don't know….\"

\"You wanted to hurt something pretty.\"

\"Maybe.\n Yes. And I am sorry! Please, please don't call my parents. Please \ndon't do that, because it will get me into so much trouble. My father is a doctor and \nhe works all the time and he hates it when he has to straighten out my bullshit. And my mother, she said it was just a thing for two months, \nthey said that I could visit my old school again after summer. But if you \ncall them now and tell them about the horses…\"

\"Frankly, I don't \ncare about your parents.\" I looked at her in the most unforgiving way \nand she flinched once more. Would you prefer me to call your school? \nThey'll wonder where you are by now and you'll have to tell them \nsomething.\"

\"No!\" Laura nearly screamed, shaking her head \nviolently. \"At school they thought my parents would fetch me for the \nweekend, but Dad cancelled that in the last minute. That's why I was so \nangry today. You don't have to call the school, so please, please don't \ndo it!\"

Her grey eyes were large and round and pleading, and tears were welling from them. I am sure she was honest with me, begging for mercy from a stranger. But there was also a flirty element: I was an older man, she was young and pretty. She instinctively tried to look even more innocent than she actually was. I did not even blame her for that.

I shrugged and smiled a bit. Laura seemed to interpret it as a sign of \nsympathy. Maybe she had gotten through to me? She relaxed a tiny bit.

\"Okay\", I said. \"I am going to make you an offer \nand I will only make that offer once. Follow me, I'll show you \nsomething. This will be very educational.\"

I got up and started leading her through the house. \nThe old farmhouse was large and its interior was quite\n luxurious. I had invested lots of money into its renovation.

\"What kind of an offer is it?\" She snuffled and wiped her nose with the back of her \nhand while she was following me. \"And if I agree … you won't tell anyone\n about this?\"

\"Maybe not. But I am not going to let you leave \njust like this either. I want you to learn a lesson, Laura. If I get the\n feeling that you understand what I want you to understand, there will \nbe no phone call. Understood?\"

\"Yes!\" There was so much relief in that one word that I had to smile once more.

I\n opened a door and lead her right into the stables. The smell\n of hay and horses was heavy in the air. We were standing in \nsemi-darkness now, but in that semi-darkness Laura could definitely hear\n some of my horses moving in their boxes to the left and right. She \nlooked around with some interest and then focused on me again.

\"Do\n you want me to clean the stables? I can do that no problem, I would \nclean everything for you if we can make a deal! I work to make up for my mistake and \nyou don't call my parents. Is that okay? Please, please say yes.\"

\"No,\n I don't want you to clean the place.\" To her visible disappointment I \nshook my head. \"But I want you to understand that what you did was \nwrong. You can't even imagine what it is like to be a horse, can you? \nYou think they are just animals. Things. Is that why you think as a human you have the right to hurt them?\"

\"No, honestly, I just wasn't thinking! And I will never do it again!\"

\"I don't know if I can believe that. Walk to that rack over there. Take the harness and bring it to me.\"

She\n carefully walked over to the rack with the riding equipment and checked\n the items with insecure motions.

\"Which one is this harness? This one? \"\nShe showed me the harness I had designed especially for her. Several \nleather straps that were connected, some buckles attached to them.She had no idea what she was holding in her slender, freckled hand.

\"That is it, yes. Give it to me.\"

Laura handed it over. I showed it to her with my sternest facial expression. Now, very soon, there would be hardly a way back. It was a thrill like I had not felt in a long time.

\"Turn around. You are going to wear this, to see how it feels on you.\"

\"But…!\"\n She hesitated. And I readied myself to force it on her if she tried to \nresist. But after a moment she closed her mouth again and turned around.\n She was breathing fast and shallow. She didn't even \nrealize that it was too small and could never have been designed for a horse.

I \nslipped the harness over Laura's head so that the straps encased her body. I \nstarted pulling them tighter and closed some of the buckles on her back.\n From the rings in the centre, the straps ran around her ribcage, over her shoulders, crossed between her small breasts.

She gasped as I tightened the setup a bit.

\"It is tight…\"

\"It is supposed to be\n tight, Laura. A horse can hurt itself when the harness is not attached \ncorrectly.\" A collar, broad and heavy, was also part of the design. I \nput it on her from behind and she flinched again, raising her hands in \ndefense.

\"Please stop, what...\"

\"Okay, that's it!\" I took\n a step backwards and watched the girl with anger in my face as well as \nin my voice. \"Get back into the kitchen. And tell me your parents' phone\n number. I am just so tired of your bullshit.\"

\"No no no it's okay!\" At this point\n she grabbed the collar herself and placed it around her neck. She adjusted it a bit, tightened it until it was placed firmly around her throat and found\n the fastener with her pale, thin fingers. She buckled it herself. \"Ouh this feels really weird...\" She gulped and tried to move her head, but she \nhad just made that as good as impossible for herself. I stepped behind \nher and took her hands – not forcefully but in a decided way – and put \nthem to her sides.

\"It is supposed to be tight, just like I said. Keep your hands down. How do you feel?\"

\"A\n bit … stuck.\" And then she giggled. It was a sound originating from \nnervousness and fear, but nonetheless a very sweet sound. I was not the only person here who was experiencing an adrenaline rush.

\"It will get a \nbit worse now, but we are nearly finished.\" I took her long, slender \nhands again. They felt cool, the palms a bit moist. I lead them to her \nback, just above her perky ass. And then I pushed them through two \nseparate loops and pulled these loops tight with a quick jerk, so that \nthe straps closed around her wrists and pulled them against each other.

\"Oh hey, what are you doing?\"

She\n twitched in surprise, trying to move her hands, but I had already \ntightened the straps so much that they were securely restrained by the thick leather. When I closed the buckle Laura started moving her arms, pulling \non the harness and fumbling around, trying to reach the buckle with her \nfingers. She couldn't though: I had taken great care to make sure it would be out of her fingers' reach.

\"Hold still. The leather is soft, but you could still hurt your skin.\" By \nadjusting some of the other buckles I made sure the strap-harness \nwouldn't slip, while the girl indeed held still now, breathing even more\n nervous.

\"Why… why are you tying my hands?\"

\"Because \nhorses normally don't have hands\", I answered a little mockingly and \nlooped another strap around her forearms, a third one around her elbows.\n Then I started pulling. The brown leather accentuated very well against her \nwhite skin. I pulled with more force and the straps started to sink a bit into her skin.

She \nmoaned and instinctively straightened her back when the pressure on her \narms increased, forcing forearms and elbows closer and closer to each \nother.

\"Ouh please! Stop please, stop!\" Laura tried\n to get away from me, but I had her grabbed by her harness and could \neasily tighten the straps further. Her muscles started showing under her\n skin as she fought against the straps, her hands flailed helplessly in \nan attempt to pull free of their bondage. But it was no use: I had all the leverage I needed, and I only \nneeded to pull a little more firmly. Her arms were drawn together \ncompletely, elbows and forearms now touching. She stood very erect , \ntrying to ease the pull on her shoulders by pushing out her small breasts.

\"Ouh GOD please you are breaking my arms!\" she whined. But I could see that she was doing fine. As a tall, slender girl with narrow shouders, she was perfect for this position.

\"No\n I am not breaking anything\", I said with as soothing a voice as possible. \"You are young\n and flexible. Calm down. Relax a bit, breathe slowly, stop \nfighting the straps.\" I made a calming noise and put one hand on her \ncheek from behind, stroking it a bit. I held her by the harness with my \nother hand. \"Calm down. Shhhhh, It's okay.\"

\"I… I can't! It... \nhurts!\" But even while she was still protesting I could see her arms \nrelax a little. However, her \nfingers kept searching for the buckle. Well, soon her fingers would be useless anyways. \"I can't move my arms, I think it's enough now. Can you please…\"

I took my hand away from \nher cheek and patted her head. \"We are nearly finished, like I told you.\n When we are done I hope you'll have learned your lesson. And then I can\n drive you home.\"

It took her a moment to think about that. She was obviously second-guessing the situation she had gotten herself into. But then she nodded, her voice coarse and a bit \nwhiny.

\"Okay, what do you have to do to finish it?\"

\"Open your hands.\"

She\n did so and I put one rubber ball into each of her sweaty palms. \n\"Press these together.\" When she complied I slipped a small leather pouch over each hand and laced the pouches tight. I secured the bags with laces around her wrists, so that her hands and fingers would now be utterly useless.

She\n lowered her head and started crying silently, sniffing from time to \ntime, her shoulders shaking a bit. Then she said:

\"Let me go now or I will tell everyone what you did and you will go to prison!\"

I was perplexed. And amused also, because this was an impressive turn. There was that well-hidden defiance again!

\"I can assure you that I won't go to prison\", I said. I could not think straight anymore, I was too thrilled and too excited. Too aroused also, I must admit. I walked over to the rack, reached beneath it and came back with the boots.

She turned her head, saw the boots and produced an audible, shocked groan.

They\n were heavy, made from brown leather and amplified with rivets. Laces \nand some straps were attached to them. The boots shocked Laura, clearly because they had the form of hooves and \nwould force her to walk in a high-heeled way with their shafts going up \nnearly to her knees, covering her calves completely. She took the sight in, sobbed and tried to shake her head, despite the heavy collar.

\"Th… these are not f… for a h-horse\", she uttered. She looked at me with an increasing amount of fear in her eyes.

\"No,\n they are not\", I agreed. \"They were designed for you.\" I \nplaced them in front of her, then kneeled down and unlaced her sneakers.\n I pulled the shoes and the socks off her feet. She even had freckles on the backs of her thin feet.

\"P...pl... please I want to call my parents now. It's okay if they punish me for what I have done… I want to call them now!\"

\"No, it's too late now. You can call them when we have finished this. Understood?\"

\"P-p-please I would like to…\"

I lost patience. I took one of the riding crops from the rack and, with a very small but forceful gesture, made it whistle through the air.

\"I don't care about what you'd like to do, Laura! Put your fucking feet into these boots now, or you can stay in this harness all night.\"

She\n blinked at me, shocked and helpless. I had taken off my mask, so to say. The charade was over. Sure, she had been suspicious before. By now she realized that she was in much deeper trouble than she had anticipated. She was shaking like a string of wire in the wind.

She gave in. She slowly lifted a bare \nfoot, toes curled, and slipped it into the boot. She winced. I had to help her \nto work it all the way down. Once it was set I laced it, so that she \nwouldn't be able to remove it from her foot without use of her hands and\n arms. She nearly overbalanced when she tried to stand on her brand new hoof. But she managed to keep her balance, and on my order she lifted her other foot too.

When I was done I \ngot up again, and I watched her with fascination. It was easy to see that she\n had some problems standing like this, but at the same time she looked \nbeautiful. To me, at least. She was a a scared, wide-eyed filly, long-legged and shaking. She had not yet completely given up on her arms: She weakly tried to \nmove them , her shoulders rolled a little from one side to the \nother and her hands twitched as if she was trying to use her fingers \nwithin those bags.

\"F….ff….\" Her stutter had gotten worse and some tears ran across her face. She tried again to form the word. \"F….finished…?\"

\"Nearly finished.\" I nodded. I had a massive erection, but you can get that from looking at porn, or at your bank account, or from a hot bath. This was much more intense than simple sexual arousal: The feeling of control was exhilarating. Now I understood why the usual sort of bdsm - in the clubs, at events, with my lovers or girlfriends - had never really energized me: They all could use a safeword, could say no, could go home after everythng was said and done. No matter if they were tied up or gagged or acted like slaves for the duration of a session, in the end they were the ones who decided what would happen.

This was different. This girl was mine. In this moment I realized that I would not be able to set her free again.

\"I am sure you know that there is one thing that every horse usually wears, Laura. Here, take a look.\"

Laura\n whimpered and shyly watched me as I walked back to the rack. When I \ncame back this time, I was holding a head-harness in my hand. It was \nmaybe the most complicated item I had created: There was a bit in the \ncenter, modified to fit into a girls mouth. It was leather-padded and a \nlittle thicker in the middle, and reaching deeper into the oral cavity \nthen a real horse bit would. Blinders were attached to it. And there was\n also a cap made from the same brown leather that would fit on Laura's \nhead. A hole in its center was designed for some of her coppery red hair\n to fall down her back in a ponytail. Her ears would be partially \ncovered by something that looked like fake pony-ears, pointing upwards \nin a cheery, slightly floppy way.

She stared at the thing and \nshied away from it as if I was holding a poisonous snake in my hand. \nOnce more she nearly stumbled, then took some very quick steps backwards\n and crashed into one of the walls of the stable building. She was\n breathing heavily now, shaking her head in disbelief. Her eyes\n were nailed to the head-harness as if she was hypnotized by it.

\"I can't . I can't take th-this i-into m-my . m-m-mouth… What are you doing to mm...mmee?\"

\"If\n you can't take it into your mouth then we'll just wait until you can. \nWe have a lot of time.\" I smiled at her in a way of which I knew that it\n was mean and unforgiving. \"If you still want to call your parents after\n I released you, I'll be happy to show you to the phone. But for now, \nyou are going to do what I tell you to do or you won t be released so \nsoon.\"

\"N-NO! Laura now tried with all her strength to get out \nof the bondage that held her body and arms. But the leather didn't do as\n much as creak. She bucked like a newly-harnessed filly, which \nof course was exactly what she was for me.

I \nwatched. I enjoyed. I waited, let her walk around on her wobbly legs and fight \nwith her restraints until she toppled and fell into the hay with a \nscream. She just lay there, crying, her face red and her chest heaving. I\n kneeled down next to her and showed her the head-harness once again.

\"This\n is the last piece, Laura. The last bit.\" I chuckled. \n\"If you let me apply it, we'll be finished. I promise.\"

Her eyes \nwere large, desperate, but with a spark of hope still in them. She \nwanted to believe me. She leaned forward and, shaking, presented her head.

She started sobbing again when I slipped the \nharness over her head, but she did not object any further. So I lead one \nof the straps under her chin, another one to the back of her head. I put\n the cap in place and pulled a good part of her copper locks through the hole on\n top. The blinders were already in place, limiting her field of vision. I put two more straps over her face, so that they \nmet on her forehead, forming an opposite V.

\"Open \nyour mouth.\" I held the bit in front of her lips and she slowly obeyed. She was trembling and shaking all over. I put the bit inside and set the \nstraps taut one after the other. That resulted in the bit being pulled \ndeeper into the corners of her mouth, being pushed deeper into her oral \ncavity, blocking her jaws but still allowing her some movement of the \nlips and teeth. The drawn back corners of her mouth exposed her canines,\n making her look a bit ridiculous, very cute and even more vulnerable.

\"Very\n good. And now give me a moment.\" It was time for the final step: I \nturned a small screw at the side of the gag. And turning it caused the \ninbuilt mechanism to unfold. A rubber-coated piece of metal flipped \nupwards in her mouth, pressing against the soft part of her upper \npalatal, forcing her to open her mouth a bit further. While I would have\n to take the bit out from time to time so she could be fed for example I\n would be abled to keep that second part of the gag in use almost \npermanently.

\"Aahaaaaaghh…gck!!\" She tried to tell me that the \npressure was uncomfortable, but I already knew that. Or, well, at least I had \nexpected it very much. I just did not care.\n Laura shuddered. Her eyes turned to the side to stare into mine, but I \nwas already concentrated on checking if everything was in place. And \nindeed all was well: The straps were pressed into her skin tightly, the \nbit did not move even as she now started pressing against it with her \nsmall, red tongue.

\"You are finished, see? Now get up. Let us see how you trot in ypur gear and harness.\"

I\ngrabbed her arm and shoulder and helped her to get up. She\n was breathing heavily, still crying, some snot dripping from her nose \nand some flocks of drool hanging from her lips. I had to\n hug her and pat her back again, even kiss her cheek, until she finally \ncalmed down a bit.

\"It's fine, girl. You are doing fine. I know you are not trained as a pony. Come on, walk to the stable-door over there.\"

She\n did what I had told her to do. But as she stumbled forward, she faltered, leered at me through the blinders. She managed to \nnot fall down, but apart from that small success she moved like a new \nborn filly, each step awkward and unelegant. Her long legs were not used to walking with hooves instead of \nhuman feet and the fact that her arms were strapped so tightly on her back made it even harder for her to find balance.

Blotches of sweat were already starting to appear on her t-shirt: Her back, armputs and belly were getting dark. I reminded myself that I would \nhave to take the clothes off her, soon.

But not right now. She was new as a ponygirl, I was new as a trainer.

We would have to figure things out together, step by step.

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