I woke up to Catherine hovering over me waking me, though it took me a moment to realize this in my drawsiness. And after another moment more, took in what woke me Catherine’s had massaging my chest. While a bit persona, I had to admit it was a nice way to be awoken. Especially in comparison to being jolted from sleep by the sketch of an alarm clock.
Plus I had slept like a rock all night. I had been skeptical about how comfortable the bed could be, strapped in and being unable to turn or reposition. But last night I had been too tired to notice these restrictions before I lost consciousness. Then once wait my body never seemed to have complained for a lack of movement to ever rise to be considered discomfort. Even now, awake and with Catherine above me, the confines of the bed felt cozy and snug.
“Good morning darling.”
Catherine cooled as her hand massaging my chest stopped and moved to undo the straps holding me down. She then helped me sit up and lever myselfout of the bed’s indent, allowing me to swing my hoofs over its edge and onto the ground.
Upon standing up the effects of lying still all night finally caught up with me, but Catherine gave me time, and permission via a nod to stretch out my gyms. At least the ones in my body. I spent the next couple minutes twisting and extending my torso and legs as much as I could. Working movement back into my muscles.
Satisfied, I told Catherine so with a single stomp. She in turn responded with a smile and a lead, clipping to my bit. Exiting my stall, I found Lily waiting for us, her own lead looped into the ring on the stall’s wall which Catherine easily undid.
Now with both of us in hand, she began leading us down the centre aisle. With two lines coming out behind her, by Lily’s lead, her and I positioned ourselves next to one another several feet behind Catherine, giving ourselves and comfortable about slack. Neither too close to threaten stepping on Catherine’s heels nor too far that a sudden change in direction would bring our lines taut. This would the following distance that would soon become natural.
Once comfortablely following, I took note of the lack of Isabella in the stable with us. Vaguely I had hoped to open my eyes to her after she had put me to bed. But I guess that was part of being a ponygirl, someone else was there to choose who Iwoke you up.
Catherine brought us down to the end of the stables and around a corner to a new area I had not yet seen. It was longer than it was wide with a line down the length of three sets of wooden frames. Each a pair of what I thought looked like huntles, two posts connected at their tops by a third bar across, with one of the huntles taller than the other. The taller’s cross bar raising to about our waist’s height and otherwise distinguished from the lower by its bar being padded. The shorter on the other hand reaching only half the height of the former.
These ‘hurdlers’ were what visualy dominated the room, as well as my initial attention. But after a couples moments to take them in, my eyes finally noticed in the surrounding walls. Snaking along every wall were lines of piping and tubing. Splitting and branch to a variety of machines that obviously required the fluids these pipes provided. This evidence of liquid finally drew my attention to the slight slope of the floor. Angled in line with the length of the room, slanting towards the base of one wall and the drain that ran along its base.
Lily and I were each placed in front of our own set of hurdle, the taller one nearest to us. Lily first, followed by me, Catherine then bent us over the cross bar which fit nicely into the pivots of our waists. She lowered our upper bodies down and with the use of our leads, secured us in that position by attaching us quite closely the lower cross bar. My lips Only a couple of inches from the wood of the frame. The hair of my ponytail fall down over my face.
Finally,This position was solidified as our legs were spread and our ankles cuffed to the posts of the wait hurtle. We were effectively rendered immobile, and owing to never being particularly flexible, I found it to a rather uncomfortable position.
My thoughts about my body’s general disappoint was suddenly replaced by a singular disappoint as Catherine’s hands beginning to work at my back entrance. Lathering lube around my hole, interspersed with brief touches of pressure, introducing lube just past my entrance. I tried to crane my neck over to check in with Lily but our relative position and the resistant of the lead denied me this assurance.
Instead it was Catherine who spoke up to reassure me,
“Sorry darling, I know this can be a bit uncomfortable but this how ponygirls are kept clean.”
Then, without giving me time to process her words, my back-end was punctured by Catherine inserting a tube into me. Impulsively trying to reject the intruder, I squirmed as much asmy bonds would allow.
But before I could do much, I was suddenly filled by the chill of liquid flooding into me from the wrong end. Causing the complete reverse reaction as my body suddenly froze up in tension. All except my insides which felt like they were expanding far past their limits from the pressure of the fluid.
Obviously seeing my distress, Catherine gently patted and cared my upturned and stretched ass. Cooing affairs that I was a good and brave ponygirl. Caught up focusing on my internal sensings, Catherine’s efforts to calm me seemed to work with without my consciousness mind registering it. Instead calming me down in only the animalistic sense.
Once I had relaxed to Catherine’s satisfaction, by which I had relaxed on the outside, she turned her efforts onto Lily. While I couldn’t Turn to watch I could hear the same procedure being repeat on Lily, minus any sounds of Lily reacting negatively. Ending with the hydroulic sounds of water being pumped double.
This left me to be simply filled by what I now realized was an enema. I had never had one before nor really anything using this hole. The closest I could think of was experimenting with the jet setting of the shower as a teenager. A comparison only really related by my embarrassment of the whole affairs.
I tried to focus on other things but my only distractions were that of the concrete floor, curtained by my hair hanging down, and the sounds of water being pumped into Lily and I. The minutes ticked by slowly, until finally the whir of the machines changed and I could feel the water’s direction reversing. Finally going in the correct direction, although still with more pressure than I was use to.
The explosion felt like it took shorter to complete, but it really only got me to the disappointment sooner. As I felt like the last drops of water were leaving me, the sound of the machines and pressure suddenly reversed once more. Again shocking me with the pressure of the enrich being pumped into me.
And so it continued. The cycle repeated several times, pushing and pulling the water into and out of our bodies. These subsequent flushings weren’t nearly as surprisingly bad as the first, but they were also no where near comfortable either. Especially in conjunction with the position that Catherine had deemed necessary for the operation.
Bent over, tied down, and forced to be cleaned out. All without Catherine ever asking for my input. The procedure simply being imposed on me by her plans for taking care of a ponygirl. I guessed my pony tack would make it hard for me to go normally but this felt like an extreme solution to that problem. A solution I didn’t much care for at all.
After the cleaning had finished, our tubing was removed, which oddly also didn’t feel great. I Thought finally being free of the intrusion would be a relief but in the moments after it was removed I felt strangely empty. Although my mind’s displeasure atthe procedure it seemed in the time it took to be flushed out by body at somewhat adjusted.
As I ponder this, Catherine set about releasing Lily and I from what I now thought of as the enema racks. Once up and standing again, it finally gave me an opportunity to express my discontent towards Catherine for the procedure. Although translated through my pony tack and bit this could only come out as a scowl and disdainful posture.
My first reaction was from Lily who seemed unperturbed by the enema and merely nickered at my expense. Catherine, to her benefit, didn’t snicker. Instead her face broke down in sympathy as she cooed,
“Come here.”
Before wrapping me in a hug. I initially resisted, holding firm to my rigid and unhappy posture until her contact and warmth broke me and I conceded to act of sympathy. Letting myself soften in reciprocation of her embrace.
After some moments she pulled back and continued,
“You were such a brave pony. It’s not the most glamours part of being a ponygirl but it needs to done to keep you clean. And you know what? You did great for a first time. Much less thrashing about than another pony I could mention.”
She finished with a sly glance over to Lily whose turn it was to scowl. Returning to me, Catherine underscore her prayer with a sugar cube.
Lily and I’s morning routine continued on to our ‘breakfast’ of the nutritional paste again. Delivered in the same manner as last night via the feeding bottle. I already found I was getting use to this intake method and wondered if the same could happen with the enemys. I shivered at the thought.
We finished with a drink of water and a quick wipe down with a damp towel. Then to my surprise, this was where mine and Lily’s days’ diverged. Her being simply left in the stable while Catherine led me out into the morning sun.
It was quite nice out, the sun having warmed away the cool of the night but not to a degree as to be hot. A few clouds joceaned the sun in the sky, drifting lazily over the expansion of the Catherine’s property as we walked down a path to the fields. Seeing her field in the morning light was something I had missed by sleeping in the morning before. I wondered if it was a sight I would ever see again.
Our pace was leisurely, even with me trying my best to continue pony stepping properly from the day before. A skill I still struggled to do ‘proper’ as a full walking pace. But the motivation to try came in part of my own internal desire to keep up my attitude as a ‘good’ ponygirl from the night before, but also because of the crop swinging at Catherine’s hip.
We walk along a packed dirt path that estimated the edge of the forest. On the other side of us was the white wooden fencing of the larger paddocks. This create a kind of almost hall whose walls were greenery and fences. Looking down, I saw printed into the dusty dirty the ‘U’ of previous ponygirl’s horseshoes.
We walked along in companionable silence. Catherine about a step in front of me, her arms swinging casual at her sides. The owners end of the lead looped around the wrist nearest to me. As such my line hung quite loosely. Hanging almost straight down from its attachment at my bit while the bottom of its arc back up to Catherine swung roughly with our movements.
Its casual swing gave me an oddly pastoral feeling. Hearkening back to the morning pony ride through an English country side. A simple morning ride by an elegant lady through her property astride her trusty steed.
But my lady was simply walking on the ground with me. Her heeled boots imprinting in the earth just the same as me. But on the other hand, I wasn’t really leaving ‘foot’ prints. I was joining all those other hoof prints that clearly dominated the foot traffic of This path. Plus, I had willing myself the be lead here.
If Catherine had desired to take our morning walk along the other side of the field, or through it, orReally anywhere else her desired, I would have simply had to follow along by the tug of the lead. Just like a country lady on a horse, she remains in complete command of our journey. The aesthetic fact of her also walking didn’t take away from that.
As we worked our way down the path I was able to see more details of Catherine’s property. To my left I could see into the larger enclosures and in one I thought I could see the curve of a running track, perhaps where I had seen Lily running before. To our right, we passed several entrances to whatever trail network lay within her forest. At some of these entrances I also noticed similar water and care stations as the one I had seen in the paddock from the day before.
As we got to the end of the flat part of the field, Catherine even stopped at one of these bucket. The major difference from the one I had seen before was that the bucket had a lid over its water which Catherine had to lift for me to get a drink. But it was a difference I was grateful for as the prospect of drinking rain water was not quite appealing yet. Or I hoped ever.
This was also to our turning around point as once I had finished my drink, Catherine lead us to the central path running between the paddocks and back towards the buildings at the other end of the fields. This is where I also noticed that Catherine had yet to say anything to me. Not even a command or correction, Not to mention trying to talk with me like Isabella did.
But about half way back, we came to an abrupt stop at the gate to one of the paddock. I looked at Catherine in question. She looked back at me with a smile. One I would have almost called giddy, before she turned back to the gate and unlocked it.
Entering the enclosure, I finally saw it contained the racing track I had glimpsed through the fence lattice before. Catherine finally spoke up,
“Would you like to try out running?”
This took me by surprise. I had thought we were just going for a morning walk. Letting Catherine play out her somewhat quirky aristocratic fantasy, while I got to enjoy going for a walk as a ponygirl that wasn’t just in a little circle. But now Catherine was offering me the chance to run in a big circle, a prospect I found very exciting. It seemed Catherine was finally delivering on the running she had promised when pitching this trip. Before she had mentioned all of pony stuff.
Turning to look at Catherine, I saw she was smiling widely, clearing already having read my answer in my body language. But I still wanted to show my enthusiasm, and so I explicitly gave my affirmation with a strong and precise stamp, absolutely.
With that, Catherine gave a short but energetic tug on my reigns, and lead us from just inside the gate onto the track’s first straight away.
Now being able to see and feel the track up close I discover it was quite different from the packed rubbery particles I was use to from normal running tracks. Instead it seemed closer to dirt, but different from the simple packed earth of the trails from before. Rather the material was clearly many distinct particles but putting my weight on them, they compacted together formed a very solid surface. It also had a reddish orange tinge of colour, contrary strongly with the surrounding green of the grass.
But after this initial analysis of the track, I found my confidence wavevering. Sure I would love to go running, but how could I in my current prediction. Walking was weird enough with my pony boots, not to mention my complete lack of arms. I could easily see myself trying to launch into a run and simply falling on my face as I tried to swing my arms like normal. Or tripping over my high heeled pony boots as I try to land mid foot.
But as I was worried at this problem, Catherine simply told me,
“Alright, first I want you walk to that down at the end there, okay?”
That I could do. Thus I promptly set out on my way down the track, trying my best to maintain proper walking technique. I was able to make maybe three steps before my body was jerk back as my lead went taut. Recovering, I looked foolishly, and a bit accusingly, back at Catherine standing there, lead still in hand.
All I got in response was a triumphant if slight apologetic look, and the reply,
“And that’s your first lesson in running. I don’t want to be running Along side you, and quite frankly probably can’t. So before you will ever be set loose to run, I will call out ‘Unhook’. This is your command to come in front of me and present yourself to be unclipped from your lead. Understand?”
Thump, Yes.
Catherine and Isabella seemed to share to teaching technique of only telling me the commands after I’d failed to follow them.
“Alright… Unhitch!”
She called, much louder than was necessary with me standing right there. But then after a second I realize I was still about two steps away, and the still expectant look on her face told me, unhitch means right up in front of her so she wouldn’t even need to reach to free me.
I took the two steps back to Catherine, and now more cognizant of her instructions tried to stand up as straight and forward as I could. Doing my best to give her the best access to my bit and the lean attached.
This earned me a nod and a smile as she reaches up and undid my lead. Followed by a friendly slap on my rump accompanying her now second command to, “Walk”.
A command I once again now responded to with pep, trotting off towards the end of the track. Pretty quickly, the excitement of starting wore off and I was just walking down the track. But this also gave me time to think, to realize how far I was now from Catherine, from anything really.
The fences of paddock were a good distance off in every direction I could choose to go. I in the largest unrestrained place I’d yet been, but I choose to keep walking the straight line along the trackas Catherine told me to. Despite her current despite her current inability to correct any disobedience if I had chosen to do otherwise. It was a strange feeling, but oddly a good one.
Upon reaching the end of the straight section, I came to a stop and turn to look back at Catherine. She was still standing at the other end of the straight away where I started, now a miniature of herself at the distance. This was until she Spoke up, but with an intensity that it sounded like she was right beside me.
“Good, that was 80 seconds. Now come back in 70.”
While I hadn’t known that she had been timing me it didn’t feel unnatural. Just like training for track, simply in a new context. Thus, after a moment’s hesitation I set off back down the track. I made an effort to move fast, trying to complete each step faster While still smoothly going through each motion.
Despite this, I could feel my increased speed was at the cost of form. At least I could assure myself I would get back to Catherine under time. This was confirmed by her as she clicked a stop watch and called out to me,
“Good work, but your form suffered.”
She underscore this with her crop. Now unhooked from her belt, it delivered three hard slaps in quick succession on my buttocks. I jumped in reaction, and a bit of shame, but I did not have long to recover as she concluded her cropping with,
“Now back to the end in 60.”
As I turned to leave I got a final, albeit lighter, smack as she called after me,
“And watch your form.”
This is how it went for several out and backs. Each time needing to be shorter than the last and often accompanied by croppings when I returned to Catherine’s side the of field. After I don’t know how many repetitions, I would Consider that I was now running. Now completing straight away in the 30 seconds Catherine required when instead of sending me off again, she told me to, “Hitch!”.
Relieved at the apparent break, I happily presented myself to be haltered once more. Once more leading by the lead, Catherine brought me over to a water bucket attached like the others to a fence post.
I greedily sucked up water from the surface, not really caring this time that it too had a lid. After the exercise, I doubt I would have cared of I was drinking rain water.
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