Dark Horse Ch 02

This story contains some themes of dehumanization, and human characters are referred to as ponies, horses, and mares. However, no animals are involved in a sexual act.

*****

Velvet awoke with a jolt. She gave a short cry as she sat up and looked around in despair at the pine walls of her stall. Of her cage.

Not a dream

, she thought

Oh god, it wasn't a dream!

Soon, though, her eyes fell on the plastic bucket just inside the stall door. She scurried over to it and whimpered as she gazed at down at dried peach and orange slices, and an assortment of roughage.

"I see you figured out what the sawdust was for," Ms Winters said from the other side of the stall door. "Very good!"

"Is this m... Is this Velvet's breakfast?"

The graying woman nodded. "I've carefully calculated the calorie count. Don't worry, Velvet. It may take some time to adjust to the diet, but you'll never go hungry. There's a water bottle up here, as I'm sure you must be thirsty." The mare whimpered. She felt renewed strength despite her fitful sleep. As she stared down at her bucket, her mind raced. "I let you sleep late today since yesterday was so... unexpected. It's 9 am now. I'll be back at 9:30."

The heavy wooden door slammed shut. Velvet knelt with her bucket, and thought as she chewed.

***

"This won't take long," Ms. Winters said, as she ran the brush through Velvet's hair. "You're a heavy sleeper, which is good. It means the morning brushing won't cut into our training."

"Training?"

She frowned peevishly, but the brush never stopped. "Yes, training. If you're going to ask silly questions, I can put the gag back in place." After several moments of silence, she added "That's better."

Velvet, still naked, stared down at the leather cuffs on her wrists. At the reflection of her bare feet, perched on a rung of the stool. At her knees, which trembled slightly. Anywhere, really, except the reflection of the wardrobe behind her. She knew from the boxes she'd seen unpacked the night before that there would be costumes, and she was less than happy to find out what degrading couture she would be subjected to. She felt a tightening in her throat as the brush passed smoothly and freely through the last of her long black hair.

Ms. Winters was wearing traditional English riding attire; a navy blue polo shirt tucked in to tight fitting tan pants with calf-high riding boots. As she turned towards the wardrobe, Velvet couldn't help but notice how the pants outlined her physique. When Elizabeth had first come to Blue Skies, she'd been, while not unattractive by Velvet's standard, certainly not in the shape she was in now. And while Velvet may not have been a big fan of English riding, the clothes, on boys or girls, always left her with a problematic bulge.

The one-two punch of shame and fear had made sure that she never acted on that impulse.

As she sat there on the stool, though, she felt angry. Angry that finally, for once in her life, someone knew. Someone who hadn't rejected her. Someone who thought

she

was

sexy

. Someone she herself was a little turned on by, and

not for the first time either

. And this is what happened?

"Getting ahead of ourselves, aren't we?" Velvet snapped back to the moment to find Ms. Winters staring at her semi-erect penis with disapproval. "

Very far

ahead of ourselves." There was something different about her tone again.

More commanding

,

or less understanding?

"Put these on."

Velvet flushed red as she turned to the tree of wooden rods the older woman had hung the clothes on.

***

The mare grumbled. The corset was bad enough on its own, but rings that attached at the wrists of her gloves held her hands up in front of her like she was perpetually prancing. The tight fitting skirt left her bare-assed, and had a tie around her thighs that prevented them from separating above the knee. Worst of all were the boots, which had a platform sole at the toe but nothing at the heel. It looked like she had

hooves

, and she

still

wasn't tall enough to look Ms. Winters in the eye. The collar and leash were drops in the bucket of embarrassment.

Velvet grudgingly accepted the steadying hand that was offered to her. The boots were going to require a

lot

of practice. She was led away from the stalls, past the stairs to the kitchen, to a set of doors she hadn't seen the night before. The older woman stepped ahead to open them, and Velvet was surprised to see they led outside. Ms. Winters was beaming as she stood in the sunlight. "Magnificent, isn't it? Look at all this room..." Velvet awkwardly stepped up next to her and looked around. There were two paddocks, an indoor riding arena, and a grazing pasture twice the size of the one at Blue Skies. Stiletto winnied in the small barn next to the garage. Beyond that, in every direction as far as she could see, was forest. "All of this is for you."

Velvet snapped her head around. "For

me!?

" She'd spoken out of shock, too quickly to think, and cried out when the older woman produced a riding crop and smacked her bare bottom with it.

"Yes

Velvet,"

she intoned, "Pronto and Stiletto are just here as a cover. A... sham. I built this place for you. For us. Plenty of room to run." She paused, considering. "And nowhere to run to."

Velvet tried to keep her face straight, but inwardly she quailed.

How had she known?

"I must say," she said, kneeling down beside Velvet, "those jeans you always wore were

very

tight, and yet I am in awe of your confirmation. You have some of the finest running legs I've ever seen." Velvet shivered as her captors hands ran over her thighs, and when the older woman spoke again, her voice was far away. "If there was a show I could place you in, I would. I surely would..."

The mare closed her eyes and drew deep breaths, counting the seconds until this indignity was over.

What about the indignity after that,

a voice countered morbidly.

"C'mon, girl. We'll use the indoors area. Everything else is muddy." Velvet stumbled along, barely keeping her balance as she was tugged by the leash. With her knees hobbled, she had to swing her feet out to the side to avoid tripping. As she went, she eventually settled into an exaggerated hip sway that eased the rest of the motion. Ms. Winters watched her out of the corner of her eye, and smirked.

"Velvet hopes you're enjoying the show," she said flatly.

"I assure you, I am. That is the point, afterall." Ms. Winters pursed her lips and came to a stop. "On the one hand, you used the correct noun form without stuttering. On the other hand, snide backtalk will not be tolerated. So what am I to do with you, Velvet?"

"Let Velvet go?"

Her smirk dissolved in the full arm slap that followed. The mare stumbled and gasped, but the leash did not allow her to stray far. "Stupidity will not be tolerated

either

. Now, what am I to do with you?"

"F-f-forgive h-her?" Velvet winced and cowered, expecting another blow, and was shocked when none came.

"The punishment," Ms. Winters said, with her fists planted on her hips, "is not the goal, you know. I didn't... I didn't have this place built... I didn't buy these horses," she said, gesticulating, "just to cover up an escalation of violence. I

will punish you

when you test me, but that is not the goal."

"If s-she may ask, what is the goal?"

Ms. Winters smiled fondly, and raised a hand towards her. "To have the pet I always wanted." Velvet recoiled from the hand, staring at it warily. "We'll get there," the graying woman said confidently.

***

"It's too hard," Velvet whined. "Velvet's f-feet keep getting stuck in the sand!"

"You're not even trying! Walk," the older woman said impassively. "I went easy on your yesterday because you were going through a big adjustment and I felt you needed some leniency and kindness. In the process, I think I gave you the mistaken impression that misbehavior will be tolerated."

"Velvet

is

trying!" The riding crop landed again, against exposed skin on her upper arm. She staggered a few more steps reluctantly. "Velvet has been trying for hooours," she sobbed.

Ms. Winters frowned and looked up at the clock on the wall. "I suppose we could do lunch now. Come on, girl. I bet it's much drier outside."

Velvet gave an exhausted cry as she settled into the older woman's wake. Out of the riding arena and around the smaller paddock they walked. Velvet spotted a picnic table set up in a shady spot at the edge of the field. Her stomach gurgled, and she found herself actually looking forward to eating. Then she saw the tupperware bowl in the grass and immediately knew which would be hers.

Just as Ms. Winters approached a muddy spot, she swung out a foot and tripped the older woman. She was two full steps into a run in the other direction before her owner hit the ground with a shocked cry.

Velvet found that running, even with her knees tied, was far easier than walking. The natural bounce to her gait made dragging the hind foot forward just a matter of timing. She tucked her arms in tight and swung her shoulders for all they were worth, and for a few seconds, the treeline was so close she could taste it. Then she looked back.

Ms. Winters might not have been able to catch her in an even race, but she was easily gaining ground while Velvet was hindered. "No no

no no

," she screamed, and turned forward. If she could just make it into the forest, she might be able to-

Ms. Winters arm closed around her neck and the older woman went into a slide, wrangling the mare down with her. Velvet sputtered as her face hit the mud. "

Nonononononono!! Please no pleeeease!!

"

"That," the older woman huffed, "was very naughty indeed." She shook her head, disappointed at how dirty they both were. On and on, the mare bawled, and Ms. Winters kept her pinned. She stroked her hair, caked as it was, until the worst of it was past.

"Come on, girl. You still need to eat." That brought a fresh round of tears. She did, however rise up on to her knees, and allowed herself to be lifted up to her feet. The older woman kept her fingers tight around the mare's collar, and made her lead the way back to the table. Several times, the poor thing turned and wept at her over it's shoulder, but her surety never wavered.

She kicked herself, mentally, for not using the leash. It had been right there in her pocket, but she'd colossally misjudged both Velvet's energy level and her will to fight. The mare barely reacted as the leash snapped on just before they reached the table.

"Lie down," she commanded. The wretched pony did as she was told, and Ms. Winters anchored the leash around one of the legs of the picnic table. She made a mental note to have either a hitching post installed out here or a mounting point of some kind drilled into the table. She opened up Velvet's lunch container, put it down in front of her, and unhooked her arms. Velvet hung her head and picked quietly at the mixture of lettuce and nuts, only looking up occasionally to stare at the comparative feast of chicken salad on the table.

***

A half hour passed in silence. Velvet stretched her arms frequently, glad to have them out of that accursed binding. Every minute or so, she looked up to see Ms. Winters staring down at her. Her sense of dread rose with each bite.

"You know what has to happen now," she finally said. "Right?"

"No." Velvet could only manage a fraction of her normal voice.

"Yes you do. I have to punish you, don't I?"

"No!"

Ms. Winters slid over and sat off the back of the bench, facing the mare. "How can I not? If our clothes aren't ruined, I'm at least looking at a

stiff

dry cleaning bill."

She huffed, and whimpered "No," but the fight just wasn't in it.

"Velvet, I've told you that you're safe here, haven't I?"

"Y-y-yes?"

"We're going to perform a little trust experiment then. You're going to trust me to handle this punishment appropriately, and I'm going to trust that when this is over, the matter is settled. You're going to trust me that I won't push you beyond what you can take, and I'm going to trust you not to tap out too soon. Do you understand?"

"Yes?"

"That wasn't very convincing. What do you understand?"

"That Velvet... that Velvet needs to be punished."

"For what?"

"For trying to escape?"

"And?"

"And... and because Velvet attacked..."

The mare blinked, her defeated expression parting briefly in the face of confusion. "Miss Winters," she said, lifting her chin.

She nodded and looked away. "Because V-velvet attacked Ms. Winters."

"Honestly, Velvet, I'd be a little disappointed if you didn't try to run away at least once. It's completely unnecessary, of course, and foolhardy to boot, but... Attacking me is where you went wrong. Now why don't we get this out of the way?" Velvet tried to take a deep, calming breath, but her chest was still wracked with hysterics. She nodded, and the older woman took up her leash with a stern look. "Remember, I take no pleasure in this."

Maybe a

little

pleasure

, Ms Winters thought.

She lead the weeping mare back to the house and into the grooming room. She tied the leash off on a hook and stripped the mare unceremoniously. Velvet gave half-hearted cries as each piece was ripped away, finally leaving her nude and shivering. Ms. Winters stripped down to her bra and panties, and Velvet had to fight not to stare again. Once more, the older woman took up the leash, and lead her over to the drain in the floor. "Stand still," she ordered, as she unfurled a hose from the nearby corner.

"Wait, wha-" The water from the hose was frigid. Velvet curled to protect her center of mass.

"Put your hands down," she yelled. Velvet cried and fought every protective instinct, keeping her arms pinned at her side. Mud fell away in dribs and drabs under the biting spray. "Turn." Velvet fought for extra length at the end of the leash but the older woman held firm, keeping her squarely in the powerful stream. And then, just as her body began to adjust to the cold, it stopped. After a cursory patdown with a towel, Velvet was lead through the heavy wooden door.

An opening in the far wall of the stable lead to stairs, and Velvet found renewed despair as she looked around the room at the top of them. The walls were lined with hand held instruments; dozens of paddles of different lengths and widths, scores of riding crops, several whips, and an assortment of canes. Velvet was so busy staring at the implements that she didn't noticed being walked up to a workhorse until Ms. Winters began strapping her ankles to it.

"Bend over," she said firmly. When Velvet hesitated, she grabbed a fistful of hair and forced the mare over the wooden device. "Stay." She swiftly applied a pair of manacles that were bolted to the floor and took a step back. "Velvet, do you remember the trail ride we took down to Lake Wahego?"

"W-w-what?"

Ms. Winters strode over to the wall, immediately selecting a pinky-thick cane. "With Tammy and Betsy? Surely, you remember..."

The mare merely whimpered in confusion. The older woman stalked back across the room, and without pause, and immediately laid the cane across her exposed backside. In a span of ten seconds, an equal number of angry red welts began to rise from her light brown rump.

"

Dios Mio

," she screamed.

"This was before you had Snickers. What was that horses name?" Velvet's cries devolved into wordless blathering under another wave of strikes. The wooden floored room echoed loudly. By design. "Harlan, wasn't it? Pretty sure it was Harlan. He was a giant!"

"

Pleeeeease

," she mewled, but her cries fell on deaf ears. Rows of welts like lines on a paper.

"We followed that creek down for, gosh, it must have been miles."

"

Pleeeeease!"

The welts ran together too often, overlapping too frequently, to pick out individual lines. Each cheek bore a red mass of inflamed tissue.

"And then that rattler spooked Harlan, and he threw you. You've gotta remember this."

"

Pleeease

stop!

"

Ms. Winters walked around in front of the workhorse and got down on one knee. She delicately pushed the thick black hair to the side and smiled at the puffy faced mare. "You broke your foot. There we were, miles away from anything. Betsy was freaking out. She was probably worried about a lawsuit from your mother. Tammy was useless as anything but a guide, and it was my first trail. And you... You needed my help, but you got back on. Needed both hands to hold tight, so I took your reins. I was in awe of your strength... I can't imagine the pain..." The girls sobbing slowed, and recognition flashed in her eyes. "

That

was real pain. I hurt just looking at your boot, twisted like it was, but I got you home... and I will see you through this too."

The girl sniffled and nodded. Ms. Winters let go of her hair, letting the black curtain fall around her face again, and stepped back around behind the workhose. She lightly traced a finger over the darkest welt and sighed happily. "

I will see you through this too

."

***

"That was... disappointing," Ms. Winters said, as she walked back into the grooming room. The rest of Velvet's training in the afternoon had gone nearly as poorly as the morning. She was practically dragging the mare behind her. "I'd hoped for better,

Velvet.

" The mare broke into a fresh round of tears, and the graying woman instantly regretted her tone. She turned and took the weeping mess by her shoulders. "Breaking in a new pony is always hard, for the pony

and

the trainer. Once you learn to behave this will be a lot easier. For both of us." Velvet nodded slowly, and Ms. Winters smiled. "Now, lets get you cleaned up."

The evening disrobing was a far more gentle affair, although Velvet still wept. Her crying ramped up as she was led over the drain in the floor, but the older woman calmly stroked her neck as she turned on the stream of hot water. Velvet stood, slump-shouldered, as the steam began to rise. The hand that pressed against her lower back was both a shock and welcome. She half turned, but the older woman again stepped up behind her. This time, she just held the mare.

***

After the water stopped and Velvet had been dried off, Ms. Winters retrieved two small bottles from the wardrobe. Velvet couldn't help but notice that her leash hung from a hook not four feet away. All she had to do was lift it. Instead, she turned and waited. The older woman smeared a film between her hands as she walked behind the mare and squatted down.

"This might sting," she said, as she pressed both hands firmly against Velvet's sensitive backside. The mare cried out and lurched up onto her toes, but the pressing hands and their stinging ointment followed. Slowly, the hands began to swirl. Velvet noted, reluctantly, that while the stinging was awful, relief was not far behind. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, enduring as best she could. Within a minute, the soothing had spread fully. The pressure of her hands still smarted, but the raw edge had been filed down mercifully. And yet...

Still the hands remained. Moving slower now, pressing deeper. Not pressing, kneading. Pushing together. Spreading apart. Velvet gasped as a rush of warm air broke over her hole. The older womans fingers gripped and regripped, over and over. Each time, the thumbs came closer toward the center. She felt her cheeks igniting. When she leaned her head forward, and her hair cascaded around her face, she was glad for the way it hid her discomfort.

It's not

all

discomfort

, a voice said, which made her blush all the more. The periodic chuckles of amusement from behind didn't help.