Author's Note: My first story, and so short as a story that it may be too brief for many readers. But I had to get it out of my system :-) Comments and hints and corrections and your individual perspectives are welcome.

I apologize for any typos!


Chapter 1

At night her dreams are dark and she remembers the life she had, but more she feels how the old memories get more blurry. It scares her a little and at the same time feels good because she hopes that one day they might be just gone, and that would be less painful.

She has slept on her side again, and beneath her cheek has formed a puddle of her own drool. Some of the hay that she had been lying on had stuck to her chin and the side of her face and she weakly shakes her head to get rid of it, but can't because the collar makes it too hard to move her head much anyways. She hopes her Owner will remove it when he comes to her, or that it might fall off during the day, when the heavy labor makes her sweat profusely again.

She just lays there and waits, since there is nothing else she can do: Every evening he put the isolation hood on her and makes sure she is deaf and blind. Because her arms are cuffed on her back and her feet are hobbled, there is never a chance to escape from her box in the stables.

At first this had freaked her out and she had trashed and wailed, cried and struggled and completely lost her mind due to claustrophobia. It had taken weeks until she had finally gotten used to spending her nights like this: Her anus and vagina are plugged, her body in the usual pony-harness, her arms in a slightly less cruel bondage than during the daytime, her hands in leather pouches and wrists cuffed on her back instead completely immobilized in the heavy leather gear.

Now she feels that he enters the box and he does what has become daily routine for her: He pulls her into a kneeling position and uncuffs her hands and immediately he pulls the leather armbinder over her arms. In the first weeks she often resisted, but she was beaten and tasered for that and never was successful. Today she usually helps him as good as she can and pushes her arms deep into the armbinder herself, because she thinks he appreciates that and might treat her a little better during the day for her cooperation.

The leather and padding of the armbinder are still a little moist with her perspiration from the last day. The armbinder is be laced very tight until it lies snugly around her arms and compresses them. Then it is laced to her corset and harness and her bondage is finished. He takes the plugs out of her and allows her to do her business, then he bends her over a rack. First her buttplug goes back in again, the ponytail that he made for her swinging from it. Then he opens his trousers and rapes her for the first time today, enjoying that she is a little wet. How could she not, after spending another night with the crotch-straps rubbing over her pussy with every small movement and the dildo inside her. He doesn't care if she orgasms, and she doesn't really want it either, so she just groans into her gag despaired and degraded. Being taken arouses her physically, but she doesn't come. And once he is done, the dildo is pushed back into her pussy and the crotch-strap is reapplied.

Finally he takes the hood off her head and even wipes some of the sweat from her bald head and wet face. He smiles as he adjusts her head harness and she can see he is in a good mood after having fucked her. He loosens the bit gag she is wearing just enough so that she can bow over the pair troughs, eat some of the healthy mush that is in the first trough and that he has been feeding her for the last year and drink as much water as she wants from the second one. "Much to do on the eastern field", he tells her with a smile. He's holding the crop and she is scared of the crop, her whole ass and thighs are covered in red marks from that wicked thing, so she whinnies immediately. She knows he likes that.

He smiles. "You sometimes think back to the times when we were lovers? I sometimes do." He leans forward to her, the smile turns into a grin and the crop just very slightly touches the side of her bottom. "I like you so much more the way you are today, darling. Now come on, let's warm you up."

He attaches the blinders to her head-harness and doesn't care that she is crying silently. It is going to be just another day in a ponyslaves' life.


Chapter 2 (added: 2016/03/09)

Finja had run away from home only a few weeks before she met him. She had not fallen in love, but she had definitely been into him. He had been older, more experienced, wealthy and friendly. She had not known so many friendly men in her life. She did not want any contact with her family anymore. She was happy she had a friend and a part-time-lover in that big scary city.

He had offered her a place to sleep. In her hometown they were frantically looking for her. Five hundred miles away she was getting introduced to the party scene, to alcohol and fun and drugs. He sometimes slept with her and she enjoyed that a lot. She had gotten her first tattoo, a small flaming heart on her left calf.

But a time had come when Finja had wanted to move out. Suddenly he had been different and cool to her. Suddenly she had weird dreams at night, weird fantasies about bondage and control. She had often felt woozy and the words had come insecure out of her mouth. Often when he proposed something she did it without thinking about it. Slowly the control slipped away from her.

She had not known it at the time, but he had slipped drugs into Finjas food and drinks. At nights, when she was more unconscious than merely asleep he hypnotized her and planted suggestions in her helpless mind. When he proposed that she broke off all contact with the other people she knew she agreed and did it even though her inner self was fighting the suggestions. She emptied her small bank account. She wrote emails to her family about contemplating suicide. No one would be looking for her anymore after some time.

He put her in bondage more and more often, sometimes for a weekend or even a week. It felt intense and arousing, but also weird, wrong, scary. She did not understand why she was changing and it was as if she was losing her mind. Her IQ had once been 125, now when she took a test it turned out to be 85. Finja often cried and often wanted to go to a Doctor, but her owner told her she would not do that and tied her up again.

Finally he told Finja to disguise herself, put on a wig and clothes that were not hers. She obeyed even though she knew something was wrong! She helped him to make herself disappear, allowing him to smuggle her out of the city to an unknown place. This evening he put her into the pony harness, gagged her, strapped her arms to her bag and locked her in the stable. The next day her training began. He beat her often, raped her, forced her to work like a beast of burden on the farm he had bought. Only few people ever saw her, and these people got shown a video before he showed her to them.

In the video Finja sat in the living room of the old apartment. She was very pretty, dark blonde, blue-eyed, a happy, smiling teen. "I want to become a ponygirl", she said grinning, right into the camera. "I want to test it, and if I like it I will agree to it 24/7. With bondage and gag and everything else. I hereby declare that I want to experience that kind of life and see where it takes me, and even if I protest later, I do not want to be set free. I want this to be real, and intense, and an adventure without a safety net." After they had watched the video, some of the visitors expressed pity for her - but most didn't, they were aroused by the full-time-ponyslave and her adventure. And even if Finja protested weakly then there was always the gag in her mouth and her lowered IQ and her diminished willpower, and they were more amused than shocked because after a few hits with the whip or the crop she stopped and did not try to explain that she was forced into this bus instead obeyed and followed all commands.

"How long has she been like this?"

"Oh, Finja has been here for about five years."

"Wow, and could she really not end this, even if she wanted to?"

"Oh, I'm no monster. Sure, if she really wanted to I'd set her free. But she enjoys it, I know her very well. Do you want to walk her across the yard? Here, take the crop, hold it like this..."


Chapter 3>(added: 2016/06/20)

The guests would lead her around or watch as he trained her. They would be impressed by the strict gear that tied her or they would be shocked by how fit she was, how dirty and degraded, with her shaved head and the tied arms, the gag and the straps and the hoove-boots. The women who visited were always breathless and sometimes giggled hysterically, the men always wanted to use her. Sometimes Finjas owner allowed it, when he was in the mood.

They never helped her or freed her, no matter if she tried to explain who she was and that she had been betrayed. Maybe they were knowing that she was forced and they did not care. Or maybe they really did believe him that she had agreed to all this and that she was only playing a role. It did not really matter.

When the visitors were gone again, her owner would come to Finja in her cell in the stable and check on her: She would feel his touch on the arm-binder and the straps and head-gear and she would feel how the leather was adjusted and the setup improved a little here and a little there. Maybe, if it was a bad day for her and she felt too helpless, she would let go for a moment and try to scream or plead or fight the bondage. He would calm her down with words or the crop, until her flesh felt very raw and new bruises covered her.

"You have been here for five years", he would tell her. "No one out there looks for you anymore. Where would you go to even if I released you?"

She wanted to tell him that she would go anywhere and start a new life, feel human again and free, and that this would be enough. But he never allowed her to talk. The gag turned the noises that came out of her mouth into gibberish. In the end she would lean against him, cry and sob, but need his touch to comfort her. He was the only person on the planet who still knew Finja, and that was why she felt a connection and a bond, even if she hated him and hated herself.

Kissing her skin, stroking her nipples and then her most vulnerable spot he would slowly work her to a point where she became wet, and he would of course use her. Finja felt used and more degraded then ever before when he did it. She remembered how she had enjoyed sex with him before when they had been a couple. Now it was so different, sweaty and grunting and uncomfortable. She didn't want it and she did not orgasm often. It aroused her against her will but it was hard to orgasm as a pony.

Often she did not think much anymore. When her thoughts were not deep in the past then she was only in the here and now. It was easier to work in the fields and to allow the training and follow orders when there was nothing in her mind. Being so hollow and so helpless was scary, but in a way it makes things also easier. When she remembered how live was with a voice and arms and hands then she felt crushed. Sometimes she could forget these things for days and days and felt better. Being hit with a crop was normal then and the pain was just part of who she was.

One day things changed: He came and put the isolation hood on her and locked her in for a long time. She grew hungry and thirsty but she was not too worried. He always knew what he was doing so she did not think that he had forgotten her. Finja suffered but she waited until he returned. Maybe it had been a day, maybe it had been two.But something was different now: He fed and watered her, but she could sense his thougts are elsewhere. And then she realized that there were noises in another part of the stable.

He had brought another woman into this place!