Chapter 3: An Unexpected Path

The days at the ranch passed by in a blur as I settled into my new routine. My stall had become my sanctuary, a place where I could retreat from the world and find solace in the quiet moments. The familiarity of the barn and the ponies provided a sense of comfort that I had never experienced before. It was as if I had found a second family.

Each morning, I woke up early and, as per my agreement with Mr. Marshall, put on a dress before heading out to help with breakfast. The routine of preparing trays and ensuring everything was in order had become second nature to me in such a short time. It was a small task, but it made me feel like I was contributing to the daily operations of the ranch. After breakfast, I would replace my dress with the bikini of the day and proceed with my regular duties. I was slowly adapting to the flow of life on the ranch.

As the days turned into weeks, I grew more comfortable with my nudity around the ponies. I no longer hesitated to remove my bikini, letting it fall by the shower stall or placing it in my laundry basket as I headed to the shower stall. The sight of the ponies in their nudity had become commonplace, and the only things that set me apart were the ‘employee’ hoof boots on my feet, the minimal clothing I wore, and the absence of a collar.

Evenings were a peaceful time in the barn. The soft glow of the safety lights cast a calming atmosphere, and I would often find myself sitting on my cot, listening to the ponies as they settled down for the night. We had formed a bond, a silent understanding of the limitations that bound us. They couldn’t defy their masters, trainers, or grooms, but they could offer me their friendship and support.

One evening, as I lay on my cot, listening to the ponies settle in for the night, a familiar voice echoed through the barn. It was Danica, the owner’s daughter, and someone I had once considered my best friend. Our friendship had been strong until the day Danica turned twelve, a day that marked a dramatic change in her demeanor. Since then, she had been harboring some dark intentions towards me, always scheming and plotting.

I watched as Danica entered my stall, her eyes glinting with a mischievous glimmer. Her presence sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. She had always been the more dominant and controlling one in our friendship, albeit much subtler than now, but lately, it had taken on a sinister edge.

“Well, well, Lisa,” Danica purred, her tone dripping with false sweetness. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

I nodded cautiously, not sure where this conversation was heading. “Yes, it has.”

Danica’s smile widened as she observed me sitting on my cot like a predator sizing up its prey. “You know, Lisa, I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as her words sent alarm bells ringing in my mind. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, just how much potential you have,” she replied cryptically. “I’ve been watching you here at the ranch, and I can’t help but think about the possibilities.”

I knew better than to underestimate Danica, especially when she had that look in her eyes. “Danica, what are you planning?” Even at fourteen years old she could be quite formidable.

Her grin grew wider, revealing a hint of malice. “Let’s just say I have some exciting ideas for your future, Lisa. Ideas that involve you becoming one of the ponies permanently.”

My heart raced, and fear gripped me as I realized the gravity of her intentions. Danica was adamant about turning me into a ponygirl against my will, and there was little I could do to stop her. The bond I had formed with the ponies in the barn suddenly became my lifeline in a world where betrayal seemed inevitable.

After Danica’s unsettling visit, I found it almost impossible to fall asleep. The idea of her scheming and planning my future as a ponygirl haunted my thoughts. The bond I had formed with the ponies in the barn became even more crucial as I faced the looming threat of betrayal.

The next morning, after finishing breakfast and while I was attending to my cleaning duties, in walked Danica, carrying a set of ponygirl tack. My heart sank as she approached me, a malicious glint in her eyes.

“Lisa, darling,” she cooed, holding up the tack. “I had this custom-made just for you. Don’t you want to try it on?”

Fear washed over me, and I stammered in response, “N-no, I don’t.”

Danica’s lips curled into a sinister smile as she advanced towards me, holding the tack menacingly close. “Oh, come on, Lisa. It’s a work of art. I thought you’d be thrilled.”

Backing away from her, I could feel the tension in the barn rise. My voice trembled as I spoke, “I said no, Danica. I don’t want any part of this.”

“Look,” Danica said showing me the nameplate on the harness, “I even gave you a name and had it engraved on the plate.” I looked at it and saw the name “Spirit” on the nameplate. “All I have to do is have you branded and it’s all over for you or I could just forge your name on the paperwork. Either way, I will make you mine.”

Danica’s laughter echoed through the barn as she abruptly turned and headed towards the tack room, still clutching the ponygirl tack. Her laughter had a chilling, creepy quality to it that sent shivers down my spine. As she disappeared into the tack room, the sense of dread and unease lingered, leaving me to wonder what other schemes she had in store for me.

Reluctantly, I decided it was necessary to protect myself from Danica’s threats. I made my way to Jonathan Marshall, the head trainer for Barn ‘A’, after finishing my morning duties. Mr. Marshall had always been fair and understanding, and I hoped he could offer some guidance.

“Mr. Marshall,” I began, “I need to talk to you about something.”

He looked at me with a measure of concern, “Of course, Lisa. What’s on your mind?”

I proceeded to recount both encounters with Danica, detailing her unsettling visits and her clear intentions to turn me into a ponygirl against my will. Mr. Marshall listened attentively, his brow furrowing as he absorbed the information.

After I had finished, he sighed and said, “I understand your concerns, Lisa. I’ll pull the videos from the security cameras and show them to Thomas. However, I should warn you that at this point, Danica hasn’t broken any laws, so there may not be much that can be done.”

I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. “Thank you, Mr. Marshall. I just felt like I had to do something to protect myself.”

He patted my shoulder reassuringly. “You did the right thing by coming to me. We’ll address this situation as it develops.”

With a sense of cautious optimism, I hoped that the evidence I had provided would be enough to deter Danica from carrying out her disturbing plans. Or at least provide me some measure of protection.

I had just finished cleaning up after the morning meal and the barn was empty save for me when Danica entered once again. This time she was not alone; she was accompanied by two unknown men—unknown to me anyway. Without hesitation, the men grabbed my arms and began dragging me toward the shower stall I use. I fought trying to break free of their grip but I wasn’t strong enough.

I started to scream just before Danica roughly shoved the bit of a bridle in my mouth and fastened it behind my head. Danica lifted the braid of my hair, undid it, leaving the very top of my hair still braided, and threaded it through the ring high in the back of the bridle. I had seen this done before to the other ponies; it gives the illusion of a mane.

I continued to move my head and body as much as I could to break free but the men were much stronger than me and held my head and body firmly in place. Once I was in the stall Danica placed my usual restraints on my wrists and used them to lift me from the floor. I still had my employee hoof boots on and tried to kick Danica, not that it was working with the two guys holding my legs.

She placed the other restraints around my ankles with the 14” chain and I was firmly held in place. Now that I was unable to fight back, she took her time to place the harness on my body and firmly fasten it in place. The men released their hold on me and watched as Danica completed her task.

I began fighting when I was lowered to the floor and the men held me again. My hands were moved behind me and locked together. Danice used the attached reins to lead me from the barn to the carousel where ponies are trained to walk by high-stepping. After attaching me to the carousel, Danica hit me on my butt with the riding crop she held. Five whacks hard enough to bring tears to my eyes as I screamed at the pain. This felt worse than when Mr. Smith whipped me.

“That’s for fighting me and making this harder than it needs to be. If you just went along with it, it wouldn’t be so hard on either of us and less painful for you,” Danica told me maliciously.

Danica kneeled and removed the chain between my ankles. With the remote in hand, Danica started the carousel turning at its lowest setting. I started walking with a normal gait and immediately felt the crop on the back of my legs. “Lift those feet higher. I want to see your thighs parallel to the ground,” Danica commanded.

I did as I was told just to keep from feeling her crop on my legs, which only worked to reduce the number of impacts on my legs. I must have walked for hours at various speeds learning the dressage technique of high stepping she was forcing me to perform. Every so often she would squirt water into my mouth, turn me around, and force me to walk in the other direction. I did this until just before lunch when I was allowed to return to the barn.

The tack was left on me as I was taken to my stall and laid on my cot. I was too exhausted to get up to fix lunch for the ponies and was worried I’d get in trouble until I heard Danica’s voice. “Jonathon, I hope you don’t mind but Lisa wasn’t feeling well so I let her take the rest of the day to rest. I decided to help her out and fixed lunch for the ponies in her stead.”

In just a couple of weeks, I have learned that Mr. Marshall has a pretty solid poker face. In my exhausted state, I lay immobile on my cot and imagined Mr. Marshall using it as he looked at Danica and decided what to make of her excuse for my absence. I knew he was aware of Danica’s plans for me but without proof, there was nothing he could do. I was also aware as I’m sure Mr. Marshall was too that Danica had never, as long as I’ve known her, come out to the barns to work.

I could only hope he considered this and her treatment of me before he accepted whatever she said. “Of course, it was kind of you to help your former friend in her time of need. When you see her again, tell her I hope she gets well soon, the other ponies have grown fond of her.”

“I will, Jonathon,” Danica responded. I began to shed tears as my hope of discovery vanished.

After lunch was over and Danica had washed the trays and set them on the cart, she returned to my stall. She grabbed the reins and forced me to my feet even though I was still too exhausted to fight her. She gave me a bottle full of water but did not let me eat. My energy reserves wouldn’t last long if I wasn’t allowed to eat.

My afternoon was the same entirely spent walking at various speeds on the carousel. I was released just before the ponies were due to be brought back into the barn for their evening meal. Again, Danica left my tack on me and I fell asleep as soon as I was placed on my cot.

Danica

I didn’t want her discovered so I placed her blanket over her after removing her employee boots. While she was deep asleep, I placed a second pair of regular ponygirl boots on her feet. I had them special ordered based on the molds Mr. Harrison made from Lisa’s feet. I slid her employee boots back under her cot where they wouldn’t be seen so easily.

I knew of a lady over in the next county who also trained ponies. I told her about Lisa with a made-up story about her dad’s debt and selling her to our ranch to pay off the debt. I told her we didn’t have room for her and the lady agreed to take her and train her in exchange for the full purses of five races where she placed in the top three. I agreed. Anything to break her and make her unfit to ever be free again. I vowed to make her mine and I plan to do it.

A little after midnight I snuck into the server room and disabled the security cameras in Barn ‘A’ for ten minutes, that’s what my partners in crime said it would take to go in and get Lisa. I told them which stall she was in. The one with ‘Lisa’ on the nameplate. They would find her sleeping on a cot. After ten minutes passed, I turned the cameras back on. I didn’t see anything on the monitor so I went back to bed.

Lisa

I was awakened suddenly when a bright light flooded into my eyes. I opened them reluctantly and looked around. This wasn’t my stall; the shelf and cot were missing. I was lying on a pile of hay instead of my familiar cot. I was still wearing the tack Danica forced me into the previous day, my bathing suit missing. With my hands still locked behind my back it was difficult to stand.

As I stood there in the unfamiliar barn, my heart raced. The grooms and ponies around me were all strangers, and I had no idea where I was or how I had ended up here. The ponytack I was forced to wear felt restrictive, preventing me from talking or moving freely. When I tried to approach the gate, I noticed the collar around my neck that was attached to the wall by a chain. Desperation washed over me as I realized the gravity of the situation. How had this happened? I needed to find a way out and return to the ranch where I belonged.

As I glanced around, I noticed that some of the grooms were whispering to each other, casting furtive glances in my direction. It was clear they were discussing me, but I couldn’t make out their words. The ponies nearby seemed just as bewildered as I was, their eyes reflecting the same fear and uncertainty.

Suddenly, a woman entered the barn. She was tall, with a commanding presence, and her expression was stern. She approached me, and my heart sank even further.

“You must be Lisa, or should I say ‘Spirit’? Danica told me about you and your situation.” My heart lifted thinking that Danica told her the truth and I would be released. But then I realized that that wasn’t the case; why else would I still be standing here in full tack with my hands behind my back?

“It’s a shame that some fathers aren’t smart enough to manage their money and have to resort to selling their children to pay off their debts.” With excited energy, I shook my head no while trying to say, “Uh-uh,” trying to convey that what she said wasn’t true. With the speed rivaling that of a striking snake she struck my left breast with her crop. “Ponies do not speak or shake their heads. Ponies stomp a hoof, once for yes and twice for no,” she told me with a hint of anger in her voice.

I stomped my left hoof on the concrete floor twice. Are you telling me that Danica lied and that’s not why you are here?” The woman asked incredulously.

I stomped once. “I see, Spirit,” the woman said with a knowing nod. “Regardless of why you are here, the fact is that you are here now, and we have work to do. You will learn the ways of this ranch, just as the other ponies have. I could brand you and that would be the end of it but I will save that for another time.” The look on the woman’s face was confusing to me like she was considering something. I could only hope it was Danica’s downfall.

I stomped my left hoof once, expressing my understanding. It was clear that the woman had been misled by Danica, just like everyone else.

“Good,” she continued, “You will find that our training methods are quite effective. Soon, you will become a valuable asset to this ranch. Now, let’s get you acquainted with your new surroundings. By the way, not that you will ever get to use it but my name is Harriet Hargrove and I own this ranch.”

With that, Mrs. Hargrove led me outside and handed my reins to a trainer. This is where my new life as a ponygirl had just begun. The woman turned to me again, “Unlike Thomas Smith, I do not allow my ponies to talk. That is for humans, not ponies. If you cannot abide by that rule, I will have you fitted with a bit and attached tongue plate. You are allowed to make horse sounds only. Understood?” I stomped once in reply, signifying my understanding. The reality of my situation sank in as I was handed over to the trainer, and I knew I had to adapt to this new life.

Under the morning sun, I, now known as Spirit, found myself in the company of the trainer. My empty stomach gnawed at me, a stark reminder of my ordeal since Danica’s betrayal. As I stood there, awaiting instructions, I noticed the open field before me, perfectly groomed for training. The trainer, a stern-looking woman in riding attire, began explaining the basics of dressage.

“Dressage is an art, Spirit,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind. “It’s about precision, control, and grace. We communicate with our ponies through subtle cues. I’ll teach you some of these cues today.”

She started by demonstrating hand signals. With a slight movement of her fingers and wrists, she guided her pony through intricate steps. It was a dance of harmony between human and pony. She then explained the verbal commands that accompanied the hand signals.

“Walk,” she said, “is self-explanatory.” The ponygirl responded by moving forward at a calm pace, lifting her legs until her thighs were parallel to the ground. “Trot,” she commanded, and the ponygirl transitioned to a livelier gait.

I observed carefully, realizing that my training as Spirit would involve learning these cues and responding to them promptly. Despite my hunger and fatigue, I was determined to excel in this new role.

The trainer gestured for me to approach. “Now, Spirit, it’s your turn. Pay close attention, and we’ll start with the basics. We’ll work on your responsiveness, posture, and coordination.”

As the training session began, I focused intently on the trainer’s instructions, determined to learn the language of dressage and become a skilled ponygirl on Mrs. Hargrove’s ranch. I was told that I wouldn’t be punished for looking directly at the trainer until I had gotten better at recognizing the hand signals. Later I would learn how to see the signals by looking with my eyes while keeping my head facing forward without sacrificing my posture

After the morning’s dressage training, I was led back into the barn, where the other ponygirls were already in their stalls. The trainer removed the bit from my mouth, allowing me to finally eat and drink. My hunger was almost unbearable, and I devoured the food provided, gulping down water to quench my thirst. The only thing that rivaled my hunger was the pain in my butt and thighs from the trainer’s riding crop.

As I ate, I was acutely aware of the consequences of speaking. The sharp memory of being struck with the crop for daring to utter words remained fresh in my mind. I vowed to myself that I would not break the rule again. From now on, I would communicate only through the hoof stomps, one for yes and two for no.

Once my meal was finished, the trainer led me back outside. The morning sun had risen higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the training grounds. It was time for the next phase of my training, and I braced myself for whatever challenges lay ahead.

I was harnessed to a sled, and the trainer issued her commands. “Pull,” she said firmly, and I understood that I was to use all my strength to move the sled. With a determined effort, I began to pull, the sled’s weight resisting me as I strained against it. Now I was grateful for the muscle I had developed from riding my bicycle.

The training was intense, pushing my physical limits as I pulled the heavy sled around the track. I could feel my muscles working hard, and my body grew fatigued with each lap. Yet, I refused to give up, driven by the desire to prove myself and excel in this demanding environment. If I was destined to be a ponygirl I would be the best I could be, worthy of the right to compete with the best.

I continued to pull the sled until exhaustion overcame me. With every last ounce of strength, I gave it my all, before falling forward and face-planting in the dirt of the track, knowing that this extreme form of training was preparing me for the challenges ahead as a ponygirl on Mrs. Hargrove’s ranch. I felt the trainer’s whip on my back as I forced myself to stand again.

The grueling day of training continued, alternating between dressage and sled pulling, as I was given brief rest periods, plenty of water to keep me hydrated, and quick meals to sustain my energy. My legs ached from the strain of pulling the sled, but my determination remained unwavering. The hope of rescue burned brightly in my heart.

After each session of pulling the sled, my trainer would massage my tired legs, relieving some of the soreness and tension in an effort to prevent cramping and damage to my muscles while pushing for maximum gains. It was a brief respite before I was led back to the dressage area for more training. The cycle repeated throughout the day, with only short breaks in between.

As the sun continued its descent in the evening sky, just kissing the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the ranch, I was finally led back inside. The trainer removed my tack, one piece at a time, and meticulously cleaned it. The routine was a reminder of the strict discipline and care that surrounded every aspect of life on Mrs. Hargrove’s ranch.

Once my tack was cleaned, I was led to the showers, where I was scrubbed and rinsed thoroughly. The cool water was a welcome relief after the strenuous training under the hot sun. Even without the attention I received from the ponies on Mr. Smith’s ranch, I was excited to finally get a shower. I wasn’t hung from the beam above the shower but I was washed from head to toe and still got the pink cream to prevent hair growth.

After the shower, I was led to my stall, where my collar was once again chained to the wall; even without the chain, I was too exhausted to run away. Exhaustion washed over me, and I collapsed onto my bed of hay. The scratchiness of the hay was unnoticed by my brain as I drifted into a deep sleep, unaware of the lights being turned off above me.

In the darkness of the barn, I slept the sleep of the exhausted, preparing for another day of challenges and training as a ponygirl on Mrs. Hargrove’s ranch.

Jonathon Marshall

As the sun rose on the Smith Ranch I went to check on Lisa, who had not reported for duty that morning. To my surprise, I found her stall empty, with only her employee boots left beneath her cot. Concerned, I immediately reported Lisa’s absence to Thomas.

In a somber meeting held in Thomas’s office, Thomas, Danica and I gathered to discuss Lisa’s disappearance. Thomas’s expression was grave as he addressed his daughter.

“Danica, do you have any idea where Lisa might be? She’s missing,” he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

Danica, however, feigned innocence and replied, “Dad, I swear, I don’t know anything about her disappearance. Maybe she couldn’t handle the hazing and decided to quit.”

Thomas Smith wasn’t convinced. He had reviewed the security tapes and noticed a ten-minute gap in the footage just after midnight. Only a handful of individuals had the security code to access the server room, and Danica was among them. “Danica, do you know the laws concerning kidnapping and involuntarily making someone into a ponygirl? If I find out that Lisa has been abducted and forced into being a ponygirl I will see to it that everybody involved is prosecuted, including you. I am aware of how you have been treating Lisa since you were twelve.”

Thomas leaned back in his office chair and considered his next statement. “Danica, the security tapes show that something happened in the server room, it shows that the cameras in Pony Barn ‘A’ were disabled from 12:01 to 12:10 a.m.,” Thomas stated firmly. “And you are one of the few people who have access. I need to know the truth.”

Danica hesitated for a moment, barely able to hold her father’s gaze, but then continued to deny any involvement. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dad. I didn’t do anything.”

Frustrated but determined, Thomas decided to call Lisa’s parents to inquire about her whereabouts. Their response only deepened the mystery, as they had not seen or heard from their daughter.

After Danica was dismissed from the meeting, Thomas knew he had to take further action. He contacted a private investigator and requested a thorough investigation of all the ranches that trained ponygirls, starting locally and working outward. The search for Lisa had officially begun, and Thomas was determined to find her, no matter how long it took. ’I only hope she’s found before the damage done to her mind is irreversable,’ Thomas thought.

Danica

Frustrated by the turn of events, I muttered to myself not realizing I was still in the main part of the house where the servants could hear me, “Damn it! I finally get her right where I want her, and Jonathon has to stick his nose in it and fuck it up. I have to think of something to keep them from finding her.” Pondering the situation, I realized that any action I took had to be carefully calculated to allow me to deny any knowledge of Lisa’s disappearance. The challenge lay in finding a solution that would both cover my tracks and maintain my façade of innocence. Once in my room I placed a call to Harriet Hargrove and filled her in on the meeting.

Lisa

My second day of training as a ponygirl began much like the first. The early morning sun bathed the ranch in a warm glow as I was led to the dressage area once again. This time, however, the training was more focused on refining my movements and responses to both hand and verbal signals. The trainer guided me through various exercises, and I did my best to perform as instructed, my body gradually adapting to the precise movements of dressage as I worked to build muscle memory of the movements. The trainer’s riding crop on my flesh was a major incentive to improve.

As the day progressed, I was provided with brief rest periods, water, and meals. The grueling training continued, with the trainer massaging my tired legs during breaks. The repetitive routine was physically demanding, and my body was pushed to its limits. Yet, my determination to endure and improve never wavered.

As the sun began to set, I was led back inside, where my tack was removed and cleaned by a groom. I was given a much-needed shower to wash away the sweat and grime of the day’s training. Then, with my collar chained to the wall in my stall, I collapsed onto my bed of hay, exhaustion overtaking me as I fell into a deep sleep.

On the morning of my third day of captivity, I was once again awakened at daybreak, resigned to face another grueling day of training. Shortly after breakfast but before I continued my morning training, I overheard a conversation nearby. It was the ranch owner, Harriet Hargrove, talking to two other women who appeared to be friends.

Harriet spoke confidently to her friends, “You won’t believe the story I was told about that girl, Spirit. Her real name is Lisa Parker. The person who brought her here told me that her father sold her to Thomas Smith in exchange for paying off a debt her father owed. I found out that Lisa’s dad was born into money but was disowned for marrying a former ponygirl. Looks like the lifestyle runs in the family. As it turns out Lisa and Danica grew up as best friends until Danica turned twelve. Something happened that ended their friendship and rumor has it among the ranch hands that Danica has been trying to find a way to make Lisa her property and turn her into a ponygirl, voluntary or not. Looks like she found a way to make it happen.”

One of the women chuckled and asked, “How is Thomas taking her disappearance from his ranch?”

Harriet nodded contemplating her response, “I don’t have all of the details yet. It’s only been a few days. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything. But I did some discreet checking, and it turns out that Danica’s father, Thomas Smith, is searching for her.” My heart raced as I listened in secret. Could this be my chance for rescue?

Harriet continued, a devious smile forming, “Don’t worry, though. I have a plan. We’ll move her between our ranches, rotating her between the three of us. That way, Thomas will never find her. It’s the perfect solution.”

My hope for rescue quickly turned to despair as I realized the extent of the deception and the lengths the people involved were willing to go to keep me hidden. The prospect of being shuttled from one ranch to another, always out of reach, left me feeling trapped and powerless.

Remembering how badly I was affected by my mother’s letter; I was determined not to allow despair affect me that way again. I was determined to be the best ponygirl I could be despite the situation I found myself in.

After overhearing Harriet’s conversation and learning of the elaborate plan to keep me hidden, I felt a mixture of hope and despair. Despite the situation I found myself in, I resolved to be the best ponygirl I could be.