Chapter 5: Flica’s Fifteenth Birthday

Today was Flica’s fifteenth birthday, fifteen years to the day since I welcomed a precious life into the world, a daughter who would go on to be celebrated as one of the top racing ponygirls in the country.

The brisk autumn breeze carried the distinct scent of modified hay and the fragrance of women chosen to be ponygirls—a familiar aroma of sweat and arousal that had become the backdrop of my existence when I was fourteen until the day I left after graduating from high school. And here I stood once again wearing nothing but a loose, silk, strapless summer dress and my ‘EMPLOYEE’ hoof boots. A note in my invitation requested I wear the dress. Even though I wasn’t an employee anymore they would help to reduce the chance I would be mistaken for a ponygirl.

As requested I pulled onto the estate at the front of the ranch and parked in the servants’ lot. I left my purse in the trunk with a spare set of clothes and the other pony boots. I took only the car key just in case I needed a quick escape. I hadn’t seen Danica yet so I made my way to Pony Barn ‘A’ to see if anyone was there. Good no one was there, the barn was empty. I rushed to put my plan in motion. I looked around for cameras and people and didn’t see any so I pulled the duct tape from the inside of my leg and put my car key in the middle of it. Then I went out the back door to the utility sink, crawled under it, and taped the key to the back of the sink. Believing it was safely hidden I reentered the barn and just walked around the ranch and observed as people were preparing the race track and parade grounds for tomorrow’s celebration.

I spotted Danica shouting orders just as she spotted me and our eyes met. She smiled and approached me. “Spirit, you came. I hoped you would and you’re wearing what I told you to.” Danica grabbed my breasts and squeezed them then pinched and pulled on my nipples right there in the open, in front of anyone who chose to look. When she released my nipples she raised my dress and inspected my pussy and ass. I was shocked that she would do that here. She pulled my dress down to below my breasts and inspected them again. Then she pulled down on my chin to open my mouth and inspected my teeth like I was a horse she was looking to buy.

“As much as I prefer you naked, you may cover-up. There will be time enough for that later. You did make arrangements with Hank to be gone until next Sunday?” she asked as I was pulling my dress back up to cover my breasts.

“Yes, Danica, I did. He knows I am visiting your ranch for the week and that you have offered me an employment contract. I didn’t tell him about the other one. I will not consider it a viable option. I will not give up my freedom. Being a ponygirl during the racing season and then the Foreman over the horse part of the ranch in the off-season is more acceptable. But how will you work the registration part?” I asked.

“The contract will cover that. You won’t be registered as a ponygirl even though you’ll be living and treated as one. There is a clause in the contract that says you can’t be sold or taken from the property by anyone but me. During the season you will travel with your daughter to races in other states and will travel as a ponygirl.

“There will be small competitions to see how local ponies are progressing in their training. Each state will have a state competition. First and Second place winners will go to Las Vegas for the national competition. You and Flica will be listed as a team and will do dressage, single, and team racing. After the nationals, you will travel with the ponies back to the ranch and you will start wearing your ‘FREE WOMAN’ collar and your ‘employee’ boots then take over as Foreman while Mark finds warmer climates.

I put in a clause that states you will no longer train or compete as a ponygirl if or when Mark retires or dies and will take over as the full-time Foreman. It also states you may choose to move into the Foreman’s Apartment or continue to live in your old stall in Pony Barn ‘A’. The cot you slept on when you were pregnant is in the tack room.

“Four of our older ponies were retired and have been sold to a ranch that uses them as work ponies rather than racers. We acquired some new girls, all of them are 16 years old and have been born into the lifestyle. They have been with us for two years. I know you will get along with them as well as you have the ones that have known you since you were 14.”

I followed Danica as we walked over to the training grounds on the far side of the race track. I noticed a crew of hands were assembling four sets of bleachers for the spectators. When we arrived, the trainer, Mr. Marshall, approached us with four girls in tow. I could see it in his eyes, he remembered the times he fucked me in the barn after dinner.

“Spirit, sorry, Lisa, I’d like you to meet the four newest ponies in our stable.” Starting from his right he pointed to each girl. “This is ‘Swift Wind’, next is ‘Hail Storm’, this one is ‘Foxy Girl’ and this one closest to me is ‘Ember’ She gets her name because of her hair. At least that is what her last owner said. Well, back to work, ponies. It was good to see you again, Spirit.” Then he walked off with the new ponies following him.

I have lived here among the ponies for more than seven years, I don’t have to imagine or wonder what my life would be like if I had been born into that life, I know what it would be like. What I wonder is what their thought processes are like. Knowing nothing but this life, never going to school to learn to read or write, never going shopping or exploring the city. I was brought out of my reverie when Danica pinched my right nipple and pulled me to follow her.

“If you’re going to daydream I can grab a leash and riding crop to keep you moving,” she said smiling, still pulling on my nipple. I kept pace with her to minimize the pulling but I couldn’t do anything about the pinching. I followed quietly knowing it could make my situation worse. I can’t believe that even though I was a free woman, I was treated like this. “Since you are a free woman and wearing the collar and boots that announce that, I can’t treat you the way I would like. Starting Sunday morning you will help break down the stands and parade grounds. In the mornings you will go through dressage with your daughter and in the afternoons you and Flica will pull a sled hooked up in tandem to work on coordination.

“The following Sunday you will be pampered by all of your friends and allowed to leave. I wanted this week to be a taste of what you will be doing if you sign the contract. Read it over several times and even have a lawyer look at it. I have provided a list of lawyers in this state who are experienced with ponygirl contracts.

“Racing season begins next month you have three weeks to decide. If I don’t hear from you in 21 days I will take that as opting out.” Danica told me. She finally released my nipple and I rubbed it until it stopped hurting. At least she didn’t pull my dress down again. Danica left me at the race track where I watched Flica run until the sun started to set.

As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, elongating the shadows over the stables, I found myself engulfed in memories. Pride swelled within me for the milestones my daughter had achieved, the trails she had blazed, all while living the life that had been predetermined from a distance.

Back then, I was just a young girl, toiling away in the stables, juggling dreams and duties that often clashed. The weight of my growing belly was vividly etched in my memory as I cleaned out stalls. The man who had once been a teenage rapist had receded into the background, leaving me to confront the impending reality of motherhood alone. Mr. Smith required me to see a therapist for almost a year to make sure I would be okay after such an ordeal. I don’t believe that the rape was as traumatic as it could have been or as it is for most women.