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The stables were just that, a low range of buildings set around three sides of a cobbled yard round behind the house. There were six stalls along either side and at the end of yard a carriage shed, tack room and feed store provided all that was needed for the horses I assumed to be kept there.
My assumptions were confounded by what I saw as we entered the yard. Hearing our feet on the cobbles, faces appeared looking over the half doors of four of the stalls. Each was a young blonde woman, Each wore a halter around their heads, ropes stretching around their foreheads, around their neck and beneath their chin. .
“Some of my fillies,” said Steve gesturing to the girls. “They take some training but I like to think I produce the best pony girls in the western hemisphere. I thought we’d look in on the new girl and then take a carriage out for a trot.”
“Why not?” I said, somewhat bemused by his suggestion. He led the way to the last stall and opened the door. Sprawled on a bed of straw, naked and asleep, was the girl that had been on the flight with me. She too was wearing a head harness, with reins locked to it and in turn to a ring at the back of her stall. Steve took a riding crop hanging from hook on the side of the stall and tapped her lightly on the thigh with it. She woke up suddenly, turning her head towards us. She gave a startled cry, rendered into a grunt by the steel bit gag that stretched across her mouth. She tried to back away from us but was stopped as she reached the end of her tethering rein.
“Up! Up!” ordered Steve. “On your feet.”
She tried to obey but found it difficult. Her arms were fixed behind her in some way and her feet were locked into curious boots that gave each the shape of a horse’s hoof. As she eventually got to her feet it was obvious that the boots were also pushing her up on tip toe as well.
Steve gripped her reins and pulled her towards him. “What do you think?” he said. “Nice conformation, I thought.” He ran his had down the small of her back over her backside and down to her thighs and calves. “Good hindquarters, firm fetlocks.” I nodded to agree. He turned her to face us, the girl moving unsteadily on her hooves. “Right sort of chest too.” He patted her breasts. “Quite small is best for pulling work. No good if you’ve got big breasts swinging around. “Good mane, too.” He took a curry comb from the shelf on the side of the stall and pulled it through her long loose hair. “Needs a bit of attention after the flight but it’ll soon come up nice and glossy. Still we’ll let her rest for now and give her a session on the lunge rein later. That will start getting her used to walking and trotting on her new hoofs. Back down girl. Back to sleep.” He watched as the girl carefully curled her legs beneath her and lay back down on the straw. “Come on, Larry,” he said, “I promised you a carriage ride.”
He locked the stable door behind us as we left the stall. The four others were still looking out of their stalls. Steve went to each in turn offering them a piece of apple in his open palm, checking their head bridles and patting them tenderly. They were all of similar height and all with the same long blonde hair fastened back behind their heads. He finished up at the farthest stall. “We’ll take this one,” he said. “You can help me tack her up. You’ll find some harness on a hook labelled ‘Dawn’ in the tack room. He opened up the stall door as I went in search of the harness. “Come on Dawn,” I heard him say. “Come on girl.”
I found the harness without trouble and carried it back into the yard where Steve was already leading Dawn up and down. She was wearing the same hoof boots as the other girl but had evidently become practiced in walking in them. “Right let’s get your harness on you girl and you can do a bit of work,” Steve said to her. He took off her stable halter and replaced it with the finer, black bridle from the harness I was carrying. “Give me her snaffle, would you?” He held out his hand and I passed over the hinged steel bar that he fitted across her mouth and clipped to the bridle. She ran her tongue side to side beneath the metal, gave a short whinny and shook her head. I watched as he fitted the reminder of her harness, leather straps across her chest beneath her small tits were cut to support them and had clips that linked to cuffs on her arms above the elbows to hold them in place. A broad collar held her head erect. As he turned her around I saw that her arms were held in a leather sleeve that fastened her fore arms together and covered her hands. The harness also fitted around a butt plug from which draped a long tail of hair that could well have been cut from her own head.
“Now, since we’re going to show you off,” said Steve, affectionately. “I think we’ll add all the furniture. Hold her for a moment, would you,” he said passing me her reins as he walked off towards the tack room. Dawn looked at me without attempting to speak. She tossed her head experimentally as I held her, so I tightened her rein. She responded to the pressure and stood calmly. Steve returned. “Are you used to hoses?” he said.
“I’ve not really had much to do with them,” I replied. “My girlfriend used to ride, so I know a bit, but not much.”
“Well, this one is quite a good beast. Not too spirited but not shy of hard work either. Let’s put these on her.” Steve fitted a pair of polished black blinkers to her bridle and then added a splendid plume of feathers to the top. He also took two silver bells and clipped them, one to each nipple. She gave a whinny through her snaffle as the clips went on but was then quiet. “Now let’s get her between the shafts.”
Shafting girls was something I had often enjoyed, though not quite in this way. She was soon harnessed up to a small two seat carriage. Steve picked a driving whip from the rack, invited me to take a seat, got in beside me and urged Dawn out of the yard. “Go on girl, go on,” he said tapping her lightly with the whip to get her started. She stepped away carefully, picking her way across the ground with care nThe cart moved off at a slow but steady pace, with Dawn’s bells tinkling at every step. Steve drove her forward along a trail that led past the house and down towards the beach. We reached the quay and stopped. “You see,” said Steve, “a quite practical mode of transport. Let’s go back. I think its time for lunch.” He tugged at Dawn’s reins, and flicked at her rump with the whip. “Go on girl, round you go.”
Dawn pulled us back up the incline to the stables. The cart turned into the yard just as Sukie appeared wearing the tightest of jodhpurs, riding boots and a tee shirt. Steve pulled Dawn to a halt with a short “whoa” and a pull on the reins. Sukie took the reins from Steve as he and I got down from the carriage.
“Good ride?” she asked.
“Yes, fascinating,” I replied.
Steve handed his driving whip to Sukie. “Give her some water and then rub her down. She’ll need it after that trot. Look in on the new pony and make sure she’s all right, then come and join us for some lunch.”
“Sure thing, Sir,” Sukie smiled and led Dawn away towards the carriage shed, the carriage clattering across the cobbles behind her, her tit bells jingling.
Half an hour later we were sat on Steve’s veranda with two rum punches and a plate of blackened flying fish with some rice and peas. We talked about the business. How he selected his ponies. I asked him if he’d ever bought any from Freddie. He said, “No”.
It seemed that whenever he’d checked Freddie’s stock or the auction catalogues there wasn’t anything right for what he needed.
“Which is what?” I said.
“Tall; blonde for preference; thin, quite fit, but small tits, definitely small tits. I guess that last one is against the run of most people’s requirements.”
“Well, I guess so too, but it can’t be difficult to find them. Has anyone from our side ever asked you what you were looking for?”
“No, I don’t think so, no,” Steve said. “But that’s really not the business you’re in is it? I mean you just grab them and then see who you can sell them to?”
“Well it looks like it’s been that way so far,” I said.
Sukie joined us. She sat on the floor beside Steve, smiling up at him. She’d find it hard when he told her she was to be sold again, I thought.
Steve asked her to entertain me again for the afternoon while he worked on the new pony. She came to my room an hour later. This time she wasn’t bound or gagged.
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