First Slave

Chapter 7

"Whoa, Hellfire," Angela heard and then quickly felt her nipples being yanked to the sides. She stopped as quickly as she could but the momentum of the cart carried her forward a few more steps. The pain in her nipples continued until the cart came to a stop. Then, she felt the cart shift and knew that the male had stepped to the ground.

"Hellfire still needs some training," the male said. "And she could use some strength training. But she has a beautiful arse. Watching that makes up for her shortcomings."

Angela groaned as she listened. This week had been horrible as far as she was concerned. She spent her days in the stables or running around being trained or pulling a cart. They named her Hellfire for some reason that only they understood. And they stuck a plug up her ass to hold her tail in place. That was one of the most distracting things she had ever experienced.

Her clothing consisted of a harness which was really nothing more than a minimalist latticework of leather straps, and a bit and bridle. She hated those last two items worst of all. The bit painfully clamped her tongue between two metal bars, rendering her speechless. And the bridle had blinders on it, which severely restricted her vision. A brightly colored red plume seemed to sprout from the top of her head as it was attached to the bridle.

The whole week seemed to be meant to demean and degrade her. Each day, she was treated as if she was a pony. She was taught to prance and canter and trot inside the corral and under the tutelage of a very strict mistress who rarely spared the whip. And in the afternoons, she took people for rides in one of the many carts, with her nipples serving as attachment points for the reins.

There were only two bright spots to how she was being treated. The first was the exercise. While she didn't like what she was being forced to do, she knew that it would tone her up. She only worried about her breasts which were completely unsupported. She knew that too much bouncing could tear the muscle and cause her to start to sag. The other bright spot was that she did not have to sleep in the stables like most of the other human ponies did.

That second bright spot came at a price, however. The only time ponies, as they were referred to, slept outside of the huge barn was when they were entertaining someone sexually. So each night, Angela was somebody's toy.

"Yes, indeed, she does have a nice arse, Charles," Angela heard Fiona respond to the cart driver. "It's tight and firm with just the right amount of plumpness to fill it out."

"If she's not taken for tonight already," said Charles, "put me down on her card. I want to explore that arse a bit."

"She's all yours tonight," was Fiona's reply.

Angela had been amazed at the number of human ponies that were kept at the club that Fiona ran. There had to be over a hundred of them. The stables seemed to go on forever and the walls were lined with stalls for each of the girls. Hers even had a bronze plate inscribed with ‘Hellfire.'

From what she could gather, over half of the girls were privately owned but were stabled at the club for much of the year. The remainder was owned by the club for use by members. She was surprised that an operation of this size could exist without attracting the attention of the authorities. Surely, this kind of thing could not be legal in England.

The girls were divided into four groups that were designated by the color of their collars. Private ponies wore white collars and were not available to members. Only their owners could use them. The majority of the girls wore white collars. A small number of ponies wore black collars and were also not available to members. They were the work ponies and Angela frequently saw them hauling loads of straw or dirt around the property.

Another small group wore gold collars and they were also not available to members or guests. These were the competition ponies that were being trained for races or equestrian events. All of the rest of the ponies, which was about a third of them, wore red collars. These were the pleasure ponies. They were trained and worked each day and were available to members for rides or races. And at night, they were available as sexual playthings for the members of the club.

This day, Angela wore a red collar and she had just learned whose cock she would be riding tonight. Each day, Fiona alternated collars. On days when Fiona wrapped a white collar around Angela's neck, she shared Fiona's bed and entertained the mistress with her body. On the other days, she wore a red collar and was claimed by one of the many members of the club.

Fiona let the stable hands unfasten Angela from the cart and then she grasped the reins that were still attached to the unfortunate pony's nipples. She shook them, causing Angela to cry out in pain. "I am told that you are a bit sluggish in your responses, Hellfire. I even saw it here when you were pulled to a halt. Let's practice a bit more."

Angela couldn't believe what she was hearing. She was sweaty and she was exhausted from pulling the man around in the cart. Now, Fiona wanted her to practice some more? Thank goodness she only had tonight and tomorrow night before she was sent on to the relative normalcy of being Cedric's slave.

Fiona led Angela around the corral and trotted behind her, tugging the reins this way and that. Usually, Angela responded quickly but occasionally, she was slow to react. This brought on a fiercer tug and frequently caused the human pony to gasp or cry out or even shriek a few times.

Angela was the oldest red collar pony in the stables. There were several black collar work ponies who were older than her and were just being kept around for sentimental reasons. And there were quite a few white collar ponies who were older than her. Some of those were wives or ex-wives of their owners and it was understood that most of the white collar ponies would live out the rest of their days at the stables.

But Angela was a red collar pony. Fiona kept the stables stocked with fresh red collar ponies that she bought and then replaced within a year. The reds ranged in age from sixteen to twenty eight at the moment. At thirty eight, Angela was far older than the others who were available to entertain the guests. But she was, by far, the most popular and most sought after of any of the reds.

Fiona watched as she guided Angela around the corral. She currently had Angela prancing and watched as the slave lifted her knees high with each step. Hellfire had not received much training but her moves were graceful and elegant.

Fiona had always bought young slaves for the club, thinking that was what the members wanted; either young and big-breasted or young and fast. Angela was bursting that bubble. She was not young. She was not fast. Her breasts were full and were actually the perfect size for Fiona's tastes, but she could not call them big.

Maybe she should start buying some older slaves. Their usefulness as a pony might be more limited than a twenty year old, but that did not matter to Fiona. She usually sold slaves after a year anyways. And Angela was turning out to be a perfect sex toy for her members.

Fiona finally called Hellfire to a halt and hardly had to use the reins at all. Angela was panting and was dripping with sweat, despite the chill in the air. Fiona led the girl toward the barn and tied her near the hose.

It had been years since Fiona had washed a pony down. She had plenty of hired help to perform those kinds of chores. But she took responsibility for hosing down Angela and washing the grit and sweat from her body. Angela was shaking and shivering by this point. Thankfully, it was unseasonably warm in England this week. But it was still winter and the air was chilly. Fiona toweled her off, which did warm Angela a bit.

It was only two o'clock in the afternoon at this point. Normally, Angela would have been tethered in a line with the other human ponies and be made available for additional cart rides until she was delivered to her ‘owner for the night.' But Fiona decided instead to take Angela to her bed for an afternoon of feminine delight. She wanted to once again enjoy the woman who seemed to have captivated everyone's imagination and lust in such a short period of time.

At five o'clock, Fiona delivered Angela to Charles who ravished her twice before taking her down to the dining hall. This was another advantage of being a red. She could not sit at the table. Instead, she would kneel beside her temporary owner and be fed out of his or her hand. But at least she did not have to eat some kind of bland stuff out of a feed bag that was fastened to her face. That's how they treated the girls who remained in the stables during meal times.

Charles did explore her ass, just as he had promised. In fact, that was a common theme among the males who claimed her that week. She was used to anal sex but it was usually infrequent and just used to provide variety. This week, however, it was the prevailing mode of having sex. She had been fucked in the ass more this week than in the previous three months. Maybe it was a British thing, she concluded.

She spent her last day with a white collar and once again found herself in Fiona's bed for the evening. There was no bondage and no whips and no ass fucking. It was just passionate feminine sex.

"I'm going to miss my Hellfire," said Fiona as she paused from suckling on one of Angela's nipples. The rings had been removed so that Fiona could enjoy the soft succulent flesh.

"Thank you, Mistress," replied Fiona. She liked Fiona and would miss her too. But she would not miss the dehumanizing treatment that the mistress imposed on her throughout this week.

"If it's okay with you," Fiona continued after sucking on the other nipple for a bit, "I'm going to talk to Cedric about buying you."

Angela gulped at the words. That would mean even more dehumanizing treatment. And she knew that Fiona sold her girls after a year. She had to think quickly to come up with an adequate response.

"I wish you wouldn't, Mistress. But that is not up for me to decide. If you think it's best for you to talk to him, then you should."

"Well, I think I will. But don't worry. You would be my own private slave; not a club slave. And I would only rarely put you in a red collar."