Sample – Birth of a Ponygirl: The Stable Games Book Two

SG2

 

Lily stood in her stall, concentrating on her balance. The hay-strewn dirt floor was not quite level, making the strain of remaining erect on the harsh boots she wore more difficult than she would have imagined. When Elena had said she would use muscles she didn’t know she had, the red-haired mistress had not been wrong. Despite years of running, the act of standing in the calf-high boots, laced tight, terminating in faux hooves made her legs scream with the act of simply standing still. She was still sore from her time on the walker the day before, and she could see the muscles beneath the skin of her thighs strain and tense.

It was amazing, she mused, how far one could come in a day, though. Where she had been barely able to stand straight in them the day before, she was now able to remain almost perfectly motionless in the hoof-boots, and a few circuits of her small stall told her that the effort spent on the walker yesterday had not been entirely forgotten. She was able to maintain a steady gait as she moved, not quite graceful, but not the stumbling mess she had been before.

As if to emphasize the ability to adapt, she took two careful steps backward and positioned herself over the makeshift bathroom she had deemed the waste-bucket, releasing a stream of urine that brought Moonshadow to the shared wall with Lily’s.

She had been a pretty girl once, Lily could see that still, but there was no humanity left in her eyes. When she peered over the stall, her head tilted in a curious gesture that reminded Lily of a dog, interested in some new behavior. Lily frowned and nodded, gesturing Moonshadow away, but the girl didn’t appear to understand. Even if Lily tried to admonish her, the bit in her mouth would have garbled her words beyond recognition, so she simply sighed and tolerated the girl’s observation.

Before the lights in the barn had gone out, Cora returned the night before to remove Lily’s body harness, but the boots, armbinder, and bit and bridle remained. The weight of the bridle had bothered her at first, but she was quickly growing accustomed to the sensation of the straps around her forehead and running lengthwise down her skull to her neck. She supposed Moonshadow didn’t feel it at all, and that thought, more than any other, terrified her.

In the days since she’d come to be a prisoner of Elena, apparently to be forged into a pet for the beautiful, but clearly insane, mistress, Lily found herself thinking less and less of the horribleness of her situation and more about how to make the best of it. That sort of thinking would damn her if she allowed it to continue, choosing to keep thoughts of her family and Rachel desperately searching for her. To abandon hope of escape was to denigrate their memory and their search for her.

Moonshadow chuffed in the neighboring stall as the door far to their left squealed open, Cora appearing around the corner of the stalls with a tray bearing two bowls. Moonshadow shifted excitedly on her hooves, straining against the door of her stall, her arms free to paw at it, but they rested dumbly on her heavy breasts, as if she had forgotten she had hands at all. They were now covered by mittens that resembled hooves as well, laced up to her mid-forearm, made of a bright white leather to match her hooves and bridle, as well as the feathery plume that rose from her bridle.

Lily stood awkwardly as she struggled to maintain her balance, her stomach rumbling as she caught scent of the warm meal Cora brought. She hated that her body was growing to accept this routine, but the needs of her body would not be subverted, and she drooled helplessly around the bit.

“Good morning, ponies,” Cora chirped, swinging her narrow hips as she walked.

Today’s outfit was a pink bodysuit that left the entirety of her legs and arms exposed, highlighting the collar she wore. Her shoes were ankle-high ballet heels that were padlocked on, lacy ankle socks poking above the rim of the shoes. Her shaved hair was dyed pink, as well, giving her a rosy appearance.

“How did our sweet ponies sleep?”

 

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