Izzys Ponygirl Journey Pt 12

The next morning didn't come quickly enough for Izzy. The ponytail in her bum robbed her of sleep that night, plus the unfamiliar surroundings - even if the other ponygirls did their best to welcome her. The bells on her bosom were not very helpful either; whenever she moved too much, she woke up the other ponygirls, so it was a long and sleepless night for everyone, but at least the other ponies were understanding. One by one they were taken out of the stable and handed over to an overtired Goblin, while Izzy started to get nervous. Today was the first day of school, and even though she didn't have a watch - why would a horse need one - it was clear by sunrise that time was running out. She certainly didn't want to be late on her first day, especially as Mrs Flinchel, her teacher, had it in for her anyway. There were only a few months to go before she could finally leave school - and the other pupils - behind her, but until then she had to hold out a little longer.

She pawed nervously and kept looking towards the house, but there was no sign of Grall. She had been the only ponygirl in the stable for an hour when the little goblin finally staggered down the grand staircase from the manor house and ran to the stable. "Get me my horse!" he slurred so loudly that he covered his own ears. He obviously had a hangover, but Izzy didn't care, after all, she had had to endure a lot during the night while he had been enjoying himself at the party. She was hastily saddled by the groom - it was the man from yesterday again. His fingers stayed where they belonged for the most part, only once brushing unnecessarily between her legs. To her displeasure, the ponytail stayed where it was. "You look good," Grall said, propping himself unsteadily against Izzy's bum, running his fingers briefly through the tail as well. His breath smelled of expensive wine. Izzy knew all too well that goblins couldn't tolerate much alcohol. "Kreks wasn't lying... it looks good on you. So does the mark." He swayed slightly. "But the bells are a bit much. Zack er Tack!" The groom lifted him into the saddle and he gave Izzy a light kick as usual. He waved goodbye once more to the manor house and Izzy was sure Mexi was waving back from one of the windows.

The ride wasn't far, but for Izzy every meter was a new experience. It was the first night with a plug in her bottom, and now it was the first ride since her rear deflowering. The ponytail was big and hard, her buttocks pushing it back and forth inside her; it was simply impossible not to notice it with every step. A burning heat spread through her abdomen.

They hadn't gone far when Grall stopped her. "You need to walk a little smoother, those bells are way too loud!" he grumbled, as if it was Izzy's fault that she had the bells on her breasts. "Try walking a little softer. Don't stomp like that." He yawned, not seeming to realise how patronising those words were. But since Izzy was also annoyed by the tinkling, she did as he asked. It wasn't easy to keep her upper body still, but after a few steps she got the hang of it.

But even apart from that, there was a tension in the air that even Grall noticed in his condition. He cleared his throat and searched for the right words, which probably wasn't easy with a heavy head. "You know I really care for you... I'm sorry you had to sleep in the stables, but it was a goblin party... no ponygirls allowed in there, I'm afraid. They think you're my horse, so I couldn't take you to the party. You understand that, don't you?"

Izzy shook her head and neighed discontentedly.

He took a breath and collected his thoughts. "Kreks didn't tell me about the ponytail until it was too late. Don't be angry with him, he's a bit rough, but you can get along with him. I'm sure he meant well about the tail; it was his way of apologising to me." He cleared his throat. "It's not customary for us to ask a horse's permission for something like that beforehand." He coughed sheepishly and continued to search for the right words. Izzy only half-listened, her ponytail demanding much of her attention. "The painted brand looks good, and the tail looks great on you. If you don't mind, I'd like you to wear it all the time." Again, Izzy wasn't really listening, she just nodded under the reins and tried to keep a clear head. But Grall was happy with that. "Very well, I'll have one of my own made for you straight away!" He leaned forward in the saddle and gave her a kiss on the neck.

From a great distance, they heard church bells ringing over the forest. Izzy lifted her head and neighed nervously.

"What's going on? Is my little ponygirl up to something today?" he asked jokingly, but then it hit him like a hammer blow. " The school!" He gave Izzy a harder kick and spurred her on. Her feet flew across the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust behind them. "I'll ride you straight to school!" Izzy shook her head vigorously. "You're right, that would be stupid. We'll take a shortcut to your house, then maybe you can still make it!" He slapped her lightly on the bum, and it was surreal for Izzy: Grall seemed completely out of breath while she was doing all the work. He yanked on her reins and led her along a track, but to Izzy's great shock, Grall had forgotten that this was also a popular route to school. Izzy raced across the junction, only to hear Grunhilda laughing loudly behind her.

Damn!

"Crap," grumbled Grall. "But I'm sure she didn't recognise you. You're much too fast! Just forget about her!" He steered Izzy into the forest and led her through the countryside to her house. Izzy came to a halt in front of it, her soles burning. Grall immediately took her gear from her while her father threw her a shirt and a pair of trousers. Izzy ripped the bells off her nipples and threw them straight onto the rubbish heap.

"Neglecting school wasn't part of the deal," her father murmured, and Izzy nodded.

"That's Grall's fault, he'll explain it to you!" She got into her trousers and, to her great shock, it was only then that she felt the ponytail that was still stuck up her bum. She turned bright red and disappeared behind the house before returning with her trousers on. "Grall, we'll talk about that later!"

"Don't worry, your own will fit you better"

Izzy grabbed him by the collar. "Forget that very quickly! That's it, I'm not your ponygirl anymore. Tell the goblins what you want, but I'm out."

Matheus scratched his chin. "Did you find out what you wanted? Did you get close to your mother?"

Izzy closed her eyes briefly. "More than I wanted. It was very intense, but I've had enough. For a lifetime."

She picked up her school things and ran off. She gave every child a wide berth and arrived at the small school just as the bell rang. Mrs Flinchel stood at the front door and tapped her pocket watch. "Late on the very first day, that's what we like! You all always want to be so grown-up, then behave like it!"

"That won't happen again," said Izzy and was startled when Mrs Flinchel slapped her on the bottom as she walked in. She had never done that before! The pupils stared at her - Grunhilda in particular grinned and whinnied softly as Izzy sat down.

So they had recognised her after all. Izzy buried her face in one of the school books and didn't look over it again until the first break. It was awful, what was she supposed to do now? Although the other students had probably guessed it beforehand - and a few of the goblins certainly hadn't been able to keep their green flaps shut - now they had actually seen her doing it. During the break in the courtyard, Izzy kept to herself as usual, but the sight of her table for the next lesson made her heart freeze. There were oats all over the table - exactly the kind you would give a ponygirl. To make matters worse, there was a large bag of them on her chair.

"Take your food away from there," ordered Mrs Flinchel after she had called everyone back into the classroom.

"It's not mine!" barked Izzy.

"It's hardly likely to be from one of the students. Come on, let's get this class started."

Izzy carried the bag out of the classroom to the laughter of the other students; they were all the same age as Izzy, yet they were behaving terribly childishly. It was humiliating, but as she was soon to realise, the problems didn't stop there.

After school, Izzy fell into her bed, exhausted and humiliated. The others had been making fun of her all day and it was clear that this was not going to end any time soon. It was all Grall's fault; if he hadn't ridden past the other students with her, it certainly wouldn't have happened!

She took off her dress and was about to pull the covers over her head when she noticed something on her arms. There was a strange mark on both forearms, the silhouette of a ponygirl, and she guessed where it had come from. She jumped out of bed, ran naked out of the door and grabbed the saddle that Grall had left behind. Indeed! There were symbols right where her arms had been tied. The saddle must have been pressing the mould into her skin for days, and now they weren't fading even after hours. She examined the saddle more closely and her heart stopped at the sight of more stamps. Just above her bottom - where the saddle pressed past her arms - was Grall's personal mark, which had also been painted on her bum, and a word that made Izzy want to explode: Buttercup!

She felt over her back and could feel the mark and her name with her fingers. "That bastard!" she hissed so loudly that her father stuck his head out of the window.

"What's wrong, do you want me to saddle you?" he asked, confused.

"Have you looked at the saddle? It has my name on it. That's my saddle!"

"I know that, Grall had it made for you."

"No, I mean he made it for me BEFORE I became his ponygirl. It was always my saddle! He had a saddle for me, even though I never wanted to wear one." She slumped against the house. "Were we ever even friends, or was I always just an animal to him?"

Matheus put a blanket over his daughter's shoulder. "Goblins and humans have a difficult relationship. Especially when it comes to ponygirls. I'm sure he's always been an honest friend to you, but there's probably no denying that he's always wanted a ponygirl of his own - you. How was your day at school?" Izzy only reported the good things, she was too embarrassed to talk about the other things. "You'll be graduating soon, then the whole world will be open to you."

"Or I'll become a ponygirl," she said sarcastically. "Grall has already planned it all."

"You think too badly of him. Besides, it's not a bad thing from his point of view. Remember, he'd even make it official. But you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Go to school tomorrow and we'll see."

Izzy nodded. School wasn't her favourite place at the moment, but at least it was better than sitting here in the dirt. If she wanted a future, she had to study, and she needed a degree, otherwise she really might end up with a real brand on her butt and a registration number on her breasts.

She went to bed, but she couldn't sleep that night. But even worse, she was missing something - something she would never admit to missing. She had only worn the ponytail for a few hours and a short ride, but it was already dominating her thoughts. It was as if he had left a void inside her, and now she wondered if that feeling would ever go away.

The next day greeted Izzy with its warm rays of sunshine through the open window. A little squirrel perched on the windowsill and watched the sleeping girl before her father woke her with a loud knock on the door.

"Come on, get up. You don't want to be late again, do you?" he asked, yawning tiredly himself. Like every day, he had been up for two hours tending to the farm. Life in the country didn't allow for late sleepers, and Izzy had had to help often enough.

"Just one more hour, please," Izzy grumbled, but her father shook his head.

"Get up. Go!" His voice had taken on a commanding tone that Izzy knew only too well. There was no point in arguing.

"You're worse than the grooms..." Izzy slipped into some clean clothes and threw on a light summer dress with long sleeves so no one would notice the imprints from the saddle. Her teeth were quickly brushed - strange, she thought, it was rarely done on ponygirls. I wonder if there was something in the feed that protected the teeth? She took her school things and ran out. It was a beautiful day, the sun was warming her skin and the leaves on the trees were a bright green colour. If only it wasn't for school... Goosebumps were running down her spine. Hopefully the others were getting bored, otherwise she was in for a bad few months.

She avoided the most common routes to school and reached the building just in time. Mrs Flinchel was standing at the door, waving the pupils in.

"There's Isabel," said one girl, giggling. "What's she still doing here?"

"Mrs Flinchel," Grunhilda chortled in a honeyed voice. "What do you actually do when you find a lost animal?"

Mrs Flinchel ignored her: "Inside, we still have a lot to learn today.

It's a special day." The way she emphasised the special made Izzy shudder. The first lesson was reading and writing, which Izzy would have happily done without. While reading was still possible, writing was too repetitive - grammar often just didn't make any sense; the rules seemed random and based purely on the gut feeling of some old monk who had decided on a windy Sunday hundreds of years ago that you had to put a comma right there, even if all the other rules said otherwise. And she didn't even want to start on the strange spelling of some of the words - she didn't even want to imagine what nasty goblin had come up with this nonsense. But at least the other pupils had to listen closely, so they didn't have enough time to get into trouble again. After the break, there were some oats on her table again, but Izzy swept them down carelessly and sat down in her chair without a word. She was determined not to give anyone the satisfaction of responding to this nonsense. The next few hours continued as before and Izzy thought she would get through the day - apart from Grunhilda's comment and the oats - without too much trouble.

But at the beginning of the last lesson, Mrs Flinchel gave her a strange glare that didn't bode well. She knew her teacher well and was aware of her strict and often even unfair attitude, but this was a particularly bad sign.

"For the last lesson today, I have invited a guest. Due to some unusual developments, it seemed appropriate that you all learn a little more about the traditions of our neighbours - the goblins." She looked Izzy straight in the eye, who could hardly get any smaller in her chair. So this humiliation wasn't over after all. The other students laughed quietly, Bastian in particular - who was sitting in a corner at the back - was having a great time. That hit Izzy the hardest, but what else did she expect? The teacher opened the door and invited a very old goblin into the room, pulling a wheelbarrow of old ponygirl stuff behind him into the classroom. "This is Mr Werdox, and he's going to give us a demonstration on ponygirls today. As you've all seen many times, goblins ride these animals. In the past, this was a big point of contention between our species, but today there is peace - partly because we know the clear difference between a girl and a ponygirl." Mrs Flinchel smiled at Izzy, who buried her face in her hands. Please let this day pass quickly, Izzy thought, but the lesson was only just beginning.

"Thank you, Mrs Flinchel," boomed the goblin. "I'd best show you how to saddle a ponygirl first. Is there a volunteer?"

"Izzy will do it!" shouted Grunhilda.

"Shut up, I'm not doing anything!" snapped Izzy back.

Mrs Flinchel hissed reprovingly. "Watch your language in my classroom! Isabel, come to the front!"

"But why me?" whined Izzy.

"Why not you? It would be far too humiliating for all the other girls here. Now come here or you'll be expelled from school."

Izzy swallowed. She had a very good idea where this lesson was going, but what choice did she have? She stood up shakily and walked with weak knees to Mr Werdox, who smiled kindly at her.

He nodded. "You've got a good physique for a ponygirl, this will work well." The praise made Izzy blush and the class could hardly contain their laughter. Only a loud admonition from Mrs Flinchel brought some calm to the excited pack. "Please be so good as to take off your dress." Izzy almost died of embarrassment as she lifted her dress over her head in front of the others. Although she still had her underwear left, it wasn't enough to stop her feeling almost naked. It was strange, but even as a ponygirl, clad only in a few straps, she had never felt so observed. But unlike usual, she knew the people in this room - besides, the social rules for humans and ponygirls were completely different. Here she was a human, at least for now, and felt the piercing glances of the other students on her. "Oh, how exciting. You've already been ridden, I'd recognise the signs of a saddle anywhere. I recognise the symbol there too, so you're a ponygirl from Oozol's son Grall. Wonderful boy, we all feared he would never find a horse."

These words were enough to drive the class completely mad for a whole five minutes. Even Mrs Flinchel was lying on her desk laughing. Izzy could only stand there and wait for it to finally continue - or until she found the courage to simply walk out of the room. But what was the point, she had already gone this far, what else would happen. And besides, her schooling was more important than any shame.

"So you really are his little mare," Grunhilda mocked.

Another girl grunted with laughter. "Do you sleep in his stable too?"

The old goblin didn't seem to understand the uproar, but he waited patiently until he could continue. "For a good ponygirl, a saddle that fits is important. You're a bit too big, but it has to work. Tack!" Izzy immediately went down on her knees, which sent the class into an uproar again. She closed her eyes and wished herself somewhere else, but nothing happened. The goblin hoisted the saddle onto her back, where Izzy had already crossed her arms. Practice was practice. Unlike her own saddle, this one was a very poor fit. It pinched and pressed everywhere, and the material was rough and brittle - and Izzy realised how high quality her saddle was, and could only guess at the sums Grall had spent to keep her, and therefore his horse, comfortable.

Grunhilda scoffed: "Is the saddle comfortable?"

A fire flared up inside Izzy. "No, mine is more comfortable! But wait until I've got the pony boots on, then I can give you a good kick up the ass!" The class was silent for a moment before the usual laughter rang through the room.

"Please, that's unnecessary," pleaded the old goblin. "I have a solution for that." He took the bridle and put it over Izzy's head, fastening an old, hard wooden horse bit into Izzy's mouth. He was right, at least Izzy wouldn't be able to object now, and from his point of view, that was all that mattered with a horse.

Mrs Flinchel nodded. "We probably should have done this earlier. She never had anything important to say anyway."

Next came the pony boots and, much to her annoyance, he tied her legs together too - he didn't want to take any risks.

"She sounds like a real horse," shouted a boy as the clop-clop-clop of hooves rang through the room. "Are they finished with that?"

"Almost!" The goblin took something else out of the box. The class was amazed. Izzy turned round and, to her great shock, saw a ponytail on a large plug. It was even bigger than the one at the party and would surely split her in two. She whimpered softly. "Not every ponygirl has a ponytail, but I'm sure our... what's her name?"