Sapphbrook Farm – Ch. 08

Since I had promised myself to following Lily’s ponygirl lead, I found myself much more able to simply observe the processes rather than trying to analyze how I related to them. Letting the experience wash through me instead of trying to wade through it. Thus, I simply followed directions, the explicit commands of Isabella and Catherine, and the implicit example of Lily.

Lily and I stood next to each Other as Isabella and Catherine approached us with leads in their hands. Trying to mirror Lily, I stood as straight and proud as I could for Isabella to clip attach her lead to my bit while Catherine did the same to Lily.

Then each with a quick tug, we were started back towards the stable. Catherine and Lily in the front, and Isabella leading me behind them. This gave to the opportunity to once again fall into step with Lily’s pony walk. Watching the rise and fall of her steps from behind like I did on the walker, once again letting her rhythm dictate mine.

As we made our way back to the stable, I finally noticed that the sun was now rather low in the sky. In fairness I had been rather preoccupied before to have noticed. As it turned out, this was also the reason for Isabella and Catherine coming to pick us up, to start getting us ready for the night.

Once inside, Lily and I had our leashes loosely tied to a pair posts, and we were once again left by our handlers who Disappeared into another part of the stable. At first I didn’t think much of it since they’d left us in the paddock alone before. But I soon discovered a key difference from being left in a paddock, how little freedom we’d left with this time. Attached to the wall with only a couple feet of giving in our lines, I could barely manage a step with the line going taut and pulling on my bit.

I feel a nervousness rise in me, but looking over at Lily she looked perfectly at ease, more than happy to just stand, easily trusting in those who’d tied us here. This gave me some support and relief from my unease but what truly dispelled it was Isabella and Catherine returning.

They came back carrying odd looking water bottles. A simple description that was quickly dissuaded when I got a closer look on the one Catherine had for Lily which she began to attach to Lily’s face. It had a kind of harness that was connected to the bridle, positioning the bottle out in front of her face with the end of the bottle pointed towards her mouth. Out of that end, was a long tube which Catherine then fitted into Lily’s month. Once the tube was secured in her mouth, Lily eagerly began suckling at it, pulling the brown paste down from the bottle, through the translucent tube, and into her mouth.

Transfixed by the process, I gave a slight jump when my view was suddenly interrupted by Isabella stepping between us. Transferring my attention to her I saw she was also holding a bottle. Along with an eyebrow quirked yup in question before explaining the bottle,

“This is standard ponygirl’s feed. It’s a special blend containing all the nutrients, vitamins, and hormones a healthy ponygirl needs. It’s made a slurry so that you can drinking it through your bit. Plus it makes easier things coming out.”

As Isabella talked, she held the feeding contractions up for my inspection. Being able to more closely examine the ‘ponygirl feed’ through the bottle didn’t reveal Anymore than at a distance in Lily’s. It still just looked like brown sludge to me, and no more appealing. After a beat Isabella continued, now with a bit less confidence,

“I know this is a bit gross and you’re only trying out being a pony for a day, so… I talked to Catherine and she said that it would okay to give you a normal meal instead. To you know, kinda let ease into it and This can be a bit of a stumbling block for some ponies…”

This throw me off. Since we had left the tack room, it had felt like Isabella had been treating me more like I thought she would a ponygirl. Checkin with me less, instead simply giving me the commands she wanted of me. Of course she had spoken to me in while on the walker but that was after first starting me on the exercise without introduction. Not ask at every step like in the tack room, but first simply doing.Granted I had also not thought much time to think about this change, caught up in walking and rubbing with Lily.

But this also didn’t feel like the moment to confront it either. Not with my internal commitment to Lily. To myself really. To being a proper ponygirl. So I acted as I thought a proper ponygirl would, how Lily would. Cutting off Isabella’s rambling with a single stamp.

I agree.

Choosing the ponygirl option in the most ponygirl way I could.

This in turn seemed to throw off Isabella. I guess she was expected me to take the easy way out. But it also seemed I throw her off in a positive way as after a moments hesitation she smiled and set about strapping the device onto my bridle. Then with she positioned its bendy tube to my lips, and with a second glance up to my eyes, continued with slipping it into my mouth.

It was an odd mix of being invasive while also not feeling like a huge step up from having already spent the day with my bit occurred by my bit. Once Isabella had settled the tube where she thought it should be it was my turn to figure out to use it, which took some Experimentation. Eventually though I discovered leveraging my bit into the bottom of the tube violently doing a kind of sucking chewing action would draw the slurry down from the bottle into my mouth.

To my surprise, once the feed actually reach my mouth, I discovered that despite its presentation and form, it in fact tasted OK. The texture resembles something akin to a course oatmeal, and I could even detect a faith apple flavour. Then again it was not something I would have any interest in trying to recreate at home. Its functionality was inherit to its taste.

Now thatI was suckling away beside Lily, Isabella and Catherine once more left us to our dinners. Each of us now occupied with ‘eating’. While slurping away, I looked over at Lily who met my gaze with her own questioning one. Obviously wondering at my culinary review. Without thinking much I shrugged my shoulders, which by my restraints turned into more of a bob.

While Lily seemed to get my intent, I regretted not communicated like a proper pony. Thus, I follow it up with the three stamps of I’, not sure. My adherence to the letter of communication seemed to amuse Lily. She replied by booping the end of my feeding bottle with hers, a playful way to knock once in agreement.

Yes I know it’s a bit bland.

With our exchange done, we both returned to eating in companionable silence, or for us stamplessness.

This continued even after I, and I presumed Lily, finished our bottles but were still absent Catherine and Isabella, leaving us once again with nothing to do but just stand there. And like before I felt my unease slowly begin to rise, over take the calm and mental distraction eating had afforded. No longer able to distract myself with consumption and not helped my extra attachments. And this time it felt like they were gone longer.

I tired to pull comfort from Lily who was standing beside me in perfect calm, as well as in near perfect stillness, only occasionally repositioning her weight. On the other hand I could feel myself growing my antsy. Shifting my weight from hoof to hoof and twisting my torso in seemingly every which way. Trying to substitute the little movements of my body for actually being able to move about.

For her part, it was clear Lily was sympathetic for to me as she watched me going through one of early trials of being a ponygirl. She Did offer the occasional whinny of support, but the distance between our posts prevented any much more than that. And while her encouragement and example helped, I still found myself falling backing into my worries and fidgeting.

But eventually our hands returned. An eventuality that Lily had calmly expected but which I greeted with a flood of relief. This also came with a renewal of energy and will to return to my mirroring of Lily, hence I tried to hide my retired reaction at seeing Catherine and Isabella once again. And thinking of it, I didn’t really know how long they had been away. Had I was getting worked up over a ten-minute break, induced by a loss of object permanence as a new ponygirl?

Either way, when Isabella came up to me she clearly saw past my performance of neuroturality as she greeted me with a compassionate smile and a back rub. Whispering to into my ear as she undid the feeding mask,

“Almost time for bed.”

My reply was a slippery pop as the tube came out. In some sense lost for words by her sudden proximity. And of course still literal denied words by my bit.

But my month was not only occupied by my bit for long as the tube was quickly replaced by a touch brush. Scrubbing at my teeth in and round the contours of the bit’s plate. In comparison to the alien feel of the tube, this felt oddly comfortable, the first normal thing put into my mouth all day. Unlike the deep functional feel of brushing one’s own teeth, I would compare this more to a massage. Gently addressing each tooth in turn with a completeness only an external observer could achieve and with a far more personal care than of a dentist.

This also brought Isabella face right in front of mine. Her eyes and focus directed into my month. Her distraction giving me the chance without embarrassment to study her face and her meticulous patience giving me the time.

Her skin was tanned from all the time she must spend outdoors. I also discovered that she had freckles. Dotting her a field on her checks and connecting over the ridge of her nose. Just below her eyes and around her month were the soft lines of very human wrinkles. Etched in by laugher and labour. The cutest of which being the pair ceased between her eyesbrows, currently pitched together in concentration.

When she was happy with the state of my teeth, Isabella removed the toothbrush and her eyes flicked up to met mine. Changing from concentration to coquettish amusement catching me in the act of looking. The moment was broken by Catherine finishing with Lily and moving on to the next step of Our bedtime routine.

We were then brought back outside to the shower like structures I had seen earlier. Now at them, I saw their floors were angled inwards towards a metal grate running along the centre. While I pondered over its purpose, Lily casually moved to stand over the grating. She positioned herself with her legs further apart than normal to my continued confusion. Then she finally answered my questions a moment later as she began to pee.

Once more endeavouring to better follow her lead, I was quick to follow suit, realizing inthe moment just how much I needed to go. After such a long day, I didn’t even think about how Catherine and Isabella where just standing by watching us.

This was until we had finished and their hands were required for cleaning us off. This did perk my self-consciousness as this was the most direction attention Isabella had given to my sex. And despite my release earlier, this touch made me forget all about it, directing all my focus on what she was doing now. But in contrast to my imaginations, Isabella’s work was quite functional. Simply wiping me down with some tissue. But as she finished, I was rewarded with a friendly tap down there to cap things off. A knowing grin clearly indicating the intentionality of her action.

Returning to the warm comfort of the stable, Lily and I were finally split up. Catherine returning Lily to her stall while Isabella and I peeling off one early to mine. It felt odd being separated from Lily after spending all afternoon together, but at least we were neighbors. Within my stall was the same bed contraction I’d seen Lily in the night before.

Imagining what Lily would be doing right now, I walked over to the bed and went to sit down, trying to be enthusiastic about into it. As it turned out, sitting down was much harder than I expected, and instead it was more of a butt first fall into the bed with a thumb and a squeal. Slightly chagrined, I looked up at Isabella questioningly.

To my surprise Isabella joined me on the bed, sitting down with far more grace than me. Looking over at her beside me, I noticed we were at eye level for the first time since the track room. And from this level I could see the twinge of worry held in her eyes. This was confirmed by the tenor of her voice,

“How’s your day been?”

With my legs leaning against the bed I awkwardly stamped out a yes

Before responding, Isabella fidgeted with her hands in her lap.

“It’s just, I don’t know… I was kinda worrying about since your walking training. I felt like I was too hard on you, training you like I would any other pony…”

Thump, Yes.

This got a me a smile before she continued,

“Right and that’s what we’re doing this weekend, I know. It’s just… I don’t know. Some stuff seemed to kind throw you off while getting in your tack… and then I feel like I’ve Haven’t really been there for you the rest of today. I guess I wanted to check in.”

Thump, Okay.

“So you’ve enjoyed today? Even with the crop and feeding and everything else?”

Thump, Yes.

The conversation was starting to feel a bit like the one I had last night with Lily, only this time I was the sleepily pony trying to assume the worries of a human. Except I didn’t feel I was able to be as artistic as Lily. So I decided to take a break from trying to replicate her.

Instead I leaned over into Isabella. Working to bury myself deeper into her embrace than a simple ponygirlnuzzle. After a moment Isabella in turn wrapped her arms around me. By this form of connection I felt like I could really talk to Isabella. Expressing all my feelings about the day by the rise and fall of my chest against hers.

I told her about how accomplished I felt learning to walk, and how much I had disliked the crop. My time with Lily, both upright and otherwise. And in returned I felt her stories of today. Of her fear for my comfort against the steering learning curve of being a ponygirl. As well as her own pride at seeing me learning to walk.

This whole conversation between us took place inside my head. My projection of our bond, our understanding, made real only through our current physical proximity. But I had also seen just how much Lily could communicate with so little, and how she could understand so much of what I tried to communicate. This feel similar but different.

In time, a time I don’t know how long, we separate. Finally being able to look into Isabella face again I could see her had heard me. Had understanding.

“I’m glad you enjoyed today. At least overall.”

With those words, she got to work getting me in the bed. Swivelling and tucking my body into the padding indent and securing me there. Literally tucking me into bed, including a kiss good night on my forehead. Surprisingly, I found myself rather comfortable in this new sleeping arrangement, and already feeling my self beginning to drift off.

Leaving my stall, I heard Isabella running into a waiting Catherine. I could just barely make out their conversation,

“How’s she doing?”

“Good. I think today’s been weird but good for her. She’s done well.”

“Good, good… Would you mind if I took care of her tomorrow?”

“Umm, sure. But she’ll need to start transitioning back to human soon tomorrow for you to be taking…”

“Yes I know. I just want to take her for a loop of the field. See how she’s doing myself and…”

At this point, their voices had faded into nothing, and there was no more be the faith whistle of the wind I could hear. Like last night I ended the day with Catherine’s word stick in my head, but this time my exhaustion from the day easily won out, and I faded off to sleep.

Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *