I was finally eighteen years old and this accursed War had long since been over and the slaves emancipated in all States and Territories of the United States. However, I was still in bondage to the Parnish Billue House.

Master Charles Hutchings once a sickly boy I teased with girlish charms had inherited the Plantation from my Grandmother after her passing by virtue of nothing more than his force of will and character for he had no blood ties to my family. Charles had grown healthy in the years that followed the war and became a shrewd businessman and local scholar.

He had also increased our stable of “pony-girls” as he called it from his mother, the fallen debutante Penelope and me to a dozen women. We lived outside bound nearly naked in a stables even in the coldest of winter and the muggiest heat of the dead of summer.

There were three Mullato ex-prostitutes from New Orleans. They were fine beauties of the highest yellow skin color and one of whom was almost as white as me. They had been suckled at their mother’s teats in the seediest whore houses near the New Orleans harbor and found living as a pony-girl to be to their liking as they were coarse and vulgar through hard and deviant living.

Olive Oatman was en route from Illinois to California with her family in the search for gold when they were ransacked by natives. Olive was traded to the Mohave Indians, from whom gave her blue tattoos on her face and marked her life leaving her little choice but to accept charity as a beggar or live as a prostitute. Fortunate for her she was of fair appearance and lusty appetites and she was one of the few who volunteered to serve as a pony girl.

There was the actress Eliza Durant (stage name) a former lover of notorious Adah Isaacs Menken herself a scandalous actress. She was engaged in polyamorous affairs with a number of wealthy men that she and Adah made serve them as cuckolds who watched as they had sex with women, niggers, and lowly street urchins in debauched orgies in New York. The wealthy men (and their wives) arranged for Eliza to be brought here to the Parnish Billue house to remove her wicked influence and so she served at first as an unwilling pony but after two years became one of Master’s most loyal and devoted subjects.

Margot Sprague-Cleghane was beautiful, intelligent, cultured, and the daughter of Salmon P. Chase. Margot’s sister Kate became an advisor to Abraham and Mary Lincoln but Margot would never rise to similar fame. She along with her daughter Scarlet were both indentured to the Parnish Billue House by Margot’s Husband Doctor Finneus T. Cleghane.

The Doctor was a carpet bagger from Philadelphia who fancied himself a physician but he was really more of the kind of sleazy salesman of potions, cure-alls and snake oils that do little but to upset ones stomach. He had corresponded with Master Hutchings for many years before becoming a business partner in the Plantation. He used his wife and her daughter who was little older than me when I first began my service to the house as his down payment towards his partnership in my family plantation.

The ten girls that served the Parnish Billue-house were treated as permanent chattel. As slaves had been emancipated we were declared “ponies” and property of the house under a very broad legal definition in the Griswoldville Courthouse. It had been a sham of a trial and held under the Confederate judges who were since removed so it technically had no standing but it mattered not for where else could ones such as us go?

I do not seek sympathy in my confession. I simply wish for you to know of my treatment.

All of us except for Master’s favorite Penelope were treated with the same general contempt as sinners who were beyond repentance and therefore not entitled to respect, privacy or modesty. We worked the fields 6 days a week as plow-horses or field slaves and on Sunday’s we were tied in the barn and beaten to suffer for our sins and depraved desires in accordance with the wishes of my Grandmother Madame Parrish before her passing.

Our bodies had been modified to make us more accommodating to our base tasks. Our skin had been hardened by exposure to the sun to allow us to endure hard work. Our feet had been trained through work in bare feet to walk upon the sharpest of rocks and stones.

My once golden corn-silk curly locks had been shorn into a single pony tail that was kept tight in the back along with all the other girls. Our hair would be cut into long lengths and fashioned into a tail approximating that of a horse’s tail and attached to a wooden dowel approximately a foot in length and as wide as a house broom that we were to wear to give the aspect of being a pony.

Our anuses were stretched and fitted with a silvered metal circlet that stretched and held them open approximately three inches diameter. This was to allow us to shit more rapidly in the fields and continue our work but also served to secure the tail into our anus so that we not unclench our buttocks and let it drop out while plowing and delay our work.

Our cunnies or “cunts” as they were now commonly called were sewn nearly closed by the Doctor to prevent us from masturbation and pregnancy if any of the male employees of the plantation should see fit to have their way with us. A heavy silver ring had been driven through our clitoris that made it feel as if a Georgia fire ant army was constantly attacking the greatest source of pleasure I had ever known on my body. This ring was exposed enough that it allowed for a trickle of urine and the attachment of a leather strap to our leads to help guide us in the fields.

We had permanent slave collars, wrist and ankle shackles attached to our bodies that we could be more easily bound and tethered as needed.

Our breasts or “udders” as we were to call them were frequently milked and I produced breast milk as a nurse maid would on a daily basis. It became a punishment not to be milked for our udders would be so heavy and swollen with milk by end of day we would beg for the relief of the callous hands of the overseers who milked us roughly in the barn.

Our pubic hair from our vaginas, between our ass cheeks, and arm pits were roughly shaved by house slaves who delighted in our humiliations and laugh and ridicule us. I had tolerated it from the men but it particularly rubbed me the wrong way that even lowly born former slave niggers were permitted to not only touch me in the most intimate places but laugh at my misfortune.

A single silvered bar had been driven through the center of our breasts and metal hoops attached to either side so that it would not slide out or interfere with our milk production. This was an intensely painful and humiliating process but it served not only to attach us to our leads but should we need to carry buckets of our milk, urine, slop or water then they could be attached to either side of the bar to allow us to carry two additional buckets besides the ones in our hands.

Our mouths had been stretched to the point we could take gags and our back teeth removed so that we would more readily be able to accept the large horse bits while serving.

We had each been branded with the mark of the House Billue House on our buttocks along with our pony girl name. I was called Clara-Belle after my middle name and no longer referred to as Abigail Parrish.

All six days of work began much the same way. At sunrise we were soaked in buckets of dirty water by the children of the house servants. There were four house servants who were former nigger slaves. They were young, attractive women all except for Miss Andrei who was of creole descent herself. She was a rotund middle age woman with great breasts.

I had implored Master Hutchings to make them pony-girls when he first employed them. I would have liked to have seen the cruel Miss Andrei made to give milk as I felt she would produce more than four of us ponies herself. Master Hutchings said Miss Andrei was a devout Christian and with high morals and that I should be ashamed for wishing my wretched existence upon these former victims of bondage. I was made to spend four days hanging from the oak tree where we played as youths naked and beaten by any who so desired for expressing my wishes. It was to be a lesson I like all the other pony girls had no say in the business of the plantation.

Ours was to serve and obey but the war had been over and there were plenty of beasts of burden to purchase to take our place. There were former slaves who would have been happy to work in the fields for decent pay but Master Hutchings said that my grandmother instructed him to continue the tradition of training women who have fallen from grace through perpetuity.

Once they washed us off we were inspected and brought out to the front yard in front of my former home in the nude whether it was raining, hot or even snow upon the ground. I nearly froze my tits off but I adjusted to the harsh conditions as all the pony girls that survived did.

Some like Penelope, Cornelila and Eliza even reveled in their suffering as they believed completely that they were being made to suffer on earth to prepare their immortal souls for future torment of eternity in hell.

There were some like Olive and Scarlet who believed they could be redeemed through suffering and that while they would spend a life of obedience they would eventually be rewarded for a life of austerity and humility.

I myself harbored little illusions of what waited for me in the afterlife. I lived for vengeance and to one day hold the upper hand over my Master and his employees. I smiled and obeyed and even at times found the punishments pleasurable in my own wicked ways but I never stopped plotting a return to grace should the opportunity arise.

In the front yard we were made to kneel and fed a bitter gruel made of oats. We were hungry and willing to eat but the contraption devised to feed us was a stout metal cylinder with nozzles that were shoved roughly down our throats so that we could not close our mouths as it force fed us wet oats.

Often, locals from nearby plantations, visiting cotton merchants would come to watch and participate in the spectacle of our Morning Prayer rituals.

After, a long prayer we would “eat the sins” of all the male employees and the sons of the house servants. They would insert their member into our mouths and make us copulate until they orgasmed down our throat. We were to thank them and ingest their “sins” so that they could spend the day free from wicked desires towards us.

It seldom stopped the male employees from wicked desires. There were three hardened nigger men who had been field slaves to some of the harshest plantation owners during the war that had taken the job of watching over us. Their wives worked in the main house and observed them punishing us, using our bodies, and making us eat their sins. All the while they would grin with this wicked expression on their face that now the white woman who once would have been able to order their whipping could be whipped at their husband’s whim.

Afterwards, we were given an opportunity to shit and piss on the ground in a small ditch besides the barn. We were no longer permitted the modesty of considering lady-like ablutions or emissions in private. We were made to call it shit and piss and speak in vulgar terms about our bodies for we were trained to not consider ourselves ladies entitled to such high-born thinking and talk.

Any girls who were particularly undisciplined and needed an attitude adjustment would spend a day wallowing in the filth ditch like a pig. I myself had to undertake such a punishment frequently for the first year before I learned to hold my tongue and think my evil thoughts to myself without speaking them or confessing them.

Typically, if it was plowing season we were harnessed to plows by leather straps attached to the bar in our udders and the metal hoop between our legs. Our tail was rammed into our anus and locked into place and then we would trudge through the mud with very little break as we worked.

If not plowing then we were made to do the basest of work picking or fetching.

On rare occasions when there was little work to be done we would be raced pulling sulkies and treated to the leavings and cast-off food from the main house for winning such races. Penelope fancied herself a prancing pony who could jump through hoops and high step and all of us benefitted from the athletic nature of this exercise.

If not racing then we were bound in pillories outside and our tails removed. There anyone from a common stable boy to a visiting cotton merchant could inspect our bodies and bugger our assholes. I grew to enjoy the roughest of treatment despite being the one who protested the loudest that they were being too rough or despicable in squeezing our tits or slapping our asses.