The Breaker

Standard Squib: The themes and subject matter in this story are adult, including but not limited to both consensual and reluctant (including coerced) sexual acts between persons of the same gender, extreme medical fetish, mind control, body modification and non consensual sexual slavery.

Author's Note: Kids, do not try this at home.

This is a fantasy.

Trying to recreate any or all of the elements in this tale would earn you prison sentences in any country in the world. Everything about it is non-consensual and unsafe, and would result in long term psychiatric trauma that would take years to recover from.

In reality, I advocate the principles of Risk Awareness; Safe,Sane and Consensual BDSM and always observe safer sex guidelines. Safer Sex is a way of life.

In my fantasies, I can engage in all sorts of reprehensible behaviour with no harm, no foul.

Mmmm, let's pretend...

There may be additional chapters of this tale. There may not. It depends on whether the smut bunnies rumbling in the back of my brain decide to hop out and play or not.

If reading about power dynamics and graphic smut between women is illegal in your jurisdiction or offends you, please leave now.

I am the feedback whore from hell. If you like my tale, please write to me and let me know. Don't bother lecturing me about my sins. I already know that I'm a pervert. I rather like that about me. If, on the other hand, you're a kinky female (over 21) willing to endure a little training of your own, I'd love to hear from you.

Email me at: dr_country_mouse_top@yahoo.com.au

The Breaker: Chapter Three

copyright 2007 by dr_country_mouse_top

Story codes: F/f, F^f, BD, anal, fist, non consensual , spank, sm,

medical fetish, mind control,

body modification, pony play

Nifty category: Lesbian/authoritarian

The author grants the Nifty Archive a non-exclusive, worldwide,

royalty-free, perpetual, and non-cancellable license to display the

work.

All other rights reserved.

Ponies are high maintenance. For every hour in harness, a pony requires three to five hours of work on the ground. They're labour intensive, which is why so many Owners employ grooms, professional handlers and trainers.

Even if I had the money to hire grooms, I think I'd still do it the way I always have. I liked the fact that with wild stock, I was starting with a blank slate, without having to reverse engineer a pony's training. There were no long months wasted `un-learning' bad habits. Mine was the first hand the wild bitch had likely known, undoubtedly the first overt control she would have encountered since early childhood.

For most people, the power dynamics inherent in any relationship between two self-aware entities are buried under layers of social expectation, personal diplomacy and manners. Humans rarely exercise power in "civilized societies" in an overt fashion. It's always hidden, usually based on manipulation, and often passive aggressive as hell. At the other end of the spectrum, the power I held over the wild bitch was clearly defined and utterly without a hidden agenda. The price of that control was the additional care that the wild ones need, particularly during the early months of training.

In her third week of training, she was learning, masturbating enthusiastically during her various treatments, eagerly working towards orgasm. She was particularly fond of her Epino training, which was always paired with clitoral stimulation using the Hitachi Magic Wand.

She now wore the fourth rectal dilator for her rectal relaxation therapy, which still occurred twice daily, although she was fitted with the third, somewhat smaller dilator most of the time. She was going for two brisk walks on the treadmill each day, with a slower pace set at the beginning and the end of her session, to provide a basic warm up and cool down until the wild bitch was broken enough to begin flexibility training.

Grooming had been hasty, simply maintaining the required level of hygiene and letting the bitch grow accustomed to being handled so intimately.

Grooming is an essential stepping stone, further the developing the bond between pony and trainer. The wild bitch was coming along nicely; a proper grooming routine would only facilitate her progress from fresh catch to finished bitch. Aside from the few brief moments of rebellion, she had presented no real challenge. That told me I was doing my job correctly.

Some people who work with wild ponies like to goad them into wild rebellions, to fight them into submission. I prefer a more classic approach. With proper handling, the wild bitch would assist in her own training without even realizing it. Humans are supposedly superior to animals, but when it comes to training, behaviour modification, and conditioning routines, the human brain is little different from that of a lab rat. The wild bitch was responding just the way she should.

Most ponies learn to love their grooming sessions, and I was confident that the wild bitch would be no different. I could almost see the wheels turning in her head as my favourite and I moved her into position in the wash stall. The cross ties were little different from other postures and poses she had been trained to take, just one more form of basic four point restraint, with her arms and legs star fished.

Instead of the usual brisk hosing and a quick, impersonal rubdown and rinse, I introduced the wild bitch to the sensual pleasure of a proper grooming. There were sponges, brushes and rubbing cloths, both soft and scratchy. I used moisturizing body wash, delicately scented. The razor slid easily over her soap slicked skin as I shaved her armpits and her legs, removing weeks of growth.

She was pliantly obedient as my favourite and I moved her into the next position. The wash rack was a cross between an examination table and the shower chair used to bathe patients with profound paralysis or other mobility limitations. Hours spent in extreme bondage had already improved the wild bitch's flexibility. She made no protest as I cranked the leg supports open until she was spread wide, her sex nicely exposed for a proper grooming.

Deaf and blind inside her helmet, she lay quietly as I trimmed away her pubic hair and then shaved her, until her sex and ass were silky smooth. My pair, trained to attend to much of their own grooming, routinely waxed each other, but I still shaved my favourite daily. We both enjoyed the intimacy of the daily grooming rituals. The wild bitch would be shaved daily as well, as part of her daily grooming. She made small sounds of pleasure as I massaged her now smooth and silky genitals, carefully moisturizing her newly exposed skin.

'No foot, no horse.' The adage is older than written records, and it's no less true for human ponies than it is for those with four legs and hooves. I scrubbed the wild bitch's feet, and gave her a careful pedicure, following it up with a long, slow foot massage that had her groaning in pleasure.

Later in her training, there would be hydrotherapy sessions associated with her grooming, but I was not yet prepared to offer her much in the way of clitoral stimulation, aside from her own touch and the carefully monitored sessions with the Hitachi Magic Wand during her Epino sessions. The wild bitch had not yet developed the muscle control, endurance or flexibility to perform at the standards I require. I would not introduce extreme clitoral stimulation until she was fully prepared and capable of producing the sort of performance I demand of my ponies.

She seemed surprised to receive a thorough facial. It only made sense to tend carefully to a pony's skin when she spent so much time hooded. It would be several months before she was ready to experience the world without the shelter of blindfolds and earplugs.

The wild bitch was calm, relaxed and almost drowsy at the end of her grooming session. She shuffled obediently to the examination table for her Epino session, now adept at the rapid, wide legged scamper that the leg spreader bar imposed. Her breathing speeded up in anticipation of the pleasure she knew she would experience during the training, fluids beginning to ooze from her eager cunt as I worked lube into her asshole.

She had been responding well to the dilation training, with both the rectal dilators and the Epino sessions. Now that she was properly groomed, it was time to focus on muscle control and endurance. Only a well trained and conditioned PC muscle will produce the sort of performance I require.

The TENS pads attached neatly to her smooth, naked sex, with four pads surrounding her anus, and two on either side of her vaginal opening. The electrical stimulation was not intended to be painful. The TENS unit would be used just as it was designed to be ^Ö to electronically induce the targeted muscles into contracting according to the settings on the machine.

The wild bitch was not yet required to master the isolation and control of her PC muscle. Instead, the e-stim would fire off her sphincters without her control, clamping down on the Epino units and sending the pressure gauge needles dancing. Just as she had slowly been introduced to greater and greater levels of dilation, the e-stim would now begin to work her sphincters and her pelvic floor, developing her strength and endurance.

The settings, instrument readings, levels of dilation and most importantly, the strength of her contractions were carefully recorded on her training chart. There would be an increasing number of repetitions, and the e-stim settings would be increased in both strength and duration, until the wild bitch was clamping down hard, both fore and aft.

Her clitoris was deliberately neglected. I only introduce extreme clitoral stimulation when I am sure that a wild bitch is capable of the sort of athletic effort necessary to produce powerful, multiple orgasms. Oh, she was encouraged to play with her clitoris, and she was given the Hitachi Magic Wand to play with when she was put through the dilation phase of her Epino training, but orgasm wasn't really the focus of her training yet.

I was simply establishing the basics, building a proper foundation for the more advanced training she would receive later. By her fourth week of training, she was settling in nicely to a standard training stable routine. Each day, she was bathed, groomed, shaved and exercised on the treadmill according to an increasingly demanding training schedule. She was hand fed and watered, toileted and bound in a variety of extreme bondage poses to increase her flexibility. There were daily training sessions with the Epino for dilation, supplemented with electrical stimulation for the contraction phase of her sphincter training.

Training and handling was always conducted while the wild bitch was deprived of sight and hearing, although she was allowed to observe my favourite and the pair during their daily training sessions. The only other visual input the wild bitch received was from the DVD player, which continued to play a mix of educational videos and extreme porn.

After thirty days, I introduced vacuum therapy during her dilation sessions. She was reliably producing good, strong orgasms as she stimulated her clitoris with the Hitachi Magic Wand while the Epino units opened her wider and wider. The hiss and thump of the vacuum pump was annoying, but she was deaf and blind inside her hood. Her nipples began to show immediate improvement, in both size and sensitivity, the treatment just as effective as it always is.

After six weeks, she was comfortably wearing the fifth and largest rectal dilator during her anal relaxation sessions. Although it was too large for her to wear in her training harness during serious exercise sessions on the treadmill, the bitch was hand walked for a minimum of twenty minutes daily while firmly impaled by the fifth dilator. It's good discipline, and helps prepare my ponies for their advanced training.

Sixty days into her training, and the wild bitch's body was beginning to show the effects of her various treatments and therapies. Without the pressures and distractions of modern life, her only focus was her body, particularly during her training sessions when the senses of sight and hearing were removed. Of course, a good trainer keeps meticulous records, so I wasn't going to settle for the unscientific observations of the naked eye.

After her weekly purging, I began a complete examination and testing procedure that would soon become yet one more familiar routine. The wild bitch had actually gained a few kilos, although the measurements of her waist and hips had been reduced by several centimetres over what had been recorded at the time of her capture. Temperature and blood pressure were both normal, although her percentage of body fat had dropped dramatically.

Her nipples stood up proudly, swift to harden at the slightest provocation, and so sensitive that only a few minutes' manipulation produced copious vaginal secretions. After carefully recording the precise measurements of her nipples, I began the internal examination and testing.

Although she was well accustomed to the Hirshfeld speculum with its removable central core, she whimpered as I inserted the rectal speculum, perhaps anticipating what would come. Certainly she had watched enough videos and witnessed my favourite and the pair during their testing sessions. The leads dangling from the speculum were a dead giveaway. She had to know what those wires were for.

The benefits of Epino training were evident in how easily she dilated to accept the vaginal speculum, despite her worries. With a slow and steady touch, I cranked open both instruments until her anus and her vagina were dilated at their maximum capacity. She was beautiful, so aroused, both fearful of and eager for the electrical stimulation that would soon pour through the metal instruments that held her open wide.

Electrotherapy can by painful, but it can also provide impossible and merciless ecstasy. After years of breaking dozens of wild bitches, I had a deft touch, and knew what settings and what intensity was the most effective for most bitches. She liked the frequencies set a little slower than my favourite, but faster than either of the pair, although she couldn't tolerate the same level of intensity. That would come with time, and experience, and the confidence that developed as she learned to trust her Trainer.

The wild bitch's frightened whimpers soon turned to crooning and sighs, and then to wild cries of astonished delight as her body responded to the stimulation. Even without the benefit of clitoral stimulation, she was soon writhing and rocking in the restraints as she was wracked by a powerful orgasm, the spasms prolonged by the merciless precision of the electrical current transmitted through the steel that held her open.

I let her rest as I typed a few notes into her file and then gently released each speculum before easing it from her body. It took several minutes for her sphincters to close, stunned into temporary submission by the electrical current. I would deliberately trigger the same gape at regular intervals as her training continued, using a variety of training techniques. As long as the dilation procedures were balanced by those that triggered contraction of the pelvic floor and sphincters, I would avoid the problems associated with repeated extreme penetration.

I was very pleased by her performance thus far, and decided to introduce her to the Sybian. The pair shot the newest member of our training stable distinctly envious looks as I began the set up. Like most women who have encountered it, all my bitches are enamoured of the Sybian and the pleasures it brings. Women all over the world have been successfully conditioned to experience orgasm from penetrative sex by the device. Although I use it in ways perhaps not intended by the manufacturer, it's a powerful tool for conditioning.

The wild bitch was wobbly legged as hell as we poured her from the examination frame, hobbled her and moved her over to the Sybian. Her sphincters were still open, so mounting her was accomplished easily enough, the two well lubricated phalluses easing into her ass and vagina. She moaned as I cranked the handle that elevated the Sybian on its platform until she was suspended, feet dangling, securely impaled and unable to escape.

Each dildo vibrated, rotated and plunged up and down, providing internal stimulation while the powerful motor assaulted the bitch's clitoris with a level of vibration that surpassed even that provided by the Hitachi Magic Wand. The bitch was effortlessly forced into multiple orgasms, howling and wailing as her body spasmed helplessly.

Careful manipulation of the stimulation levels ensured that the bitch didn't experience sensory exhaustion. I let her rest several times, and changed the settings numerous times, to ensure the most thorough and effective treatment. The Sybian would become a much anticipated reward, granted for exceptional performance.

Flushed and sweating, the wild bitch shuddered and moaned through a healthy thirty minute treatment. As her training progressed, she would develop the endurance to ride the Sybian for longer and longer periods of time, but half an hour was long enough for a novice.

In a perfect world, I would have some spiffy machine that would put my bitches through a full Pilates or yoga workout. Alas, I don't live in a perfect world, and I have a budget limited by the realities of a more mundane existence, despite my perversions. Instead of some high tech toy that would bend and stretch my ponies, I used extreme bondage and my crazy system of ropes and pulleys to develop their flexibility.

The wild bitch whimpered a little as I cranked down on the lines, forcing her legs farther apart as she lay on her back in her cage. She spent much of her day forced to hold a variety of postures, each of which exposed her ass and sex, each day introducing her to greater extension or flexion of the key muscles, ligaments and tendons.

After two months of training, the wild caught bitch was almost to the point of being able to do a full split. Each day, I slowly stretched her further and further, careful not to induce sprains or strains, although she was often stiff and sore in the mornings. A good grooming, a little massage and a slow, careful warm up would always return her to good form.

She was more than capable of holding the position I forced her into, although it was something less than comfortable. I had begun alternating the rectal dilators, and on that day she was wearing the comfortable third dilator for the anal relaxation therapy I generally paired with her flexibility training. She had to hold each posture for fifteen minutes, which worked nicely with the rhythms of the anal vibration. It also ensured that the bitch associated the postures with sexual pleasure. The more demanding positions often included limited clitoral stimulation of some type, usually self-induced. After years of training, I've found that it's best to develop the strength, flexibility and muscle control before introducing extreme clitoral stimulation. The delay ensures that the introduction of a proper pony harness is without confrontation.

Only when the bitch could hold all the required postures for an extended period of time without discomfort or distress would I consider introducing the more advanced training techniques. I did, however, mount the bitch on the Sybian twice more over the next month, much to her delight, particularly since I had begun to phase out the Hitachi Magic Wand during her Epino sessions. She was dilating without fear or discomfort, having developed a firm association between the Epino training and orgasm. She still climaxed during the Epino sessions, both during the dilation phase as well as during the e-stim assisted contraction training.

After three months, my wild one was coming along nicely. She was flexible enough to assume any pose I required of her, capable of holding even the most demanding postures. Ninety days of careful conditioning meant that she consistently responded to anal penetration with intense arousal. Sensory deprivation and tight bondage was a reliable precursor to orgasm, again resulting in intense arousal and a well trained desire to masturbate.

More than a few Owners would roll their eyes, and point to the wild caught ponies in their stables that were much further along in their training after three months, but I was more than pleased with her progress. The wild bitch was years away from being ready for her first competition, but I had established a firm foundation for future training.

There's something inherently erotic about forced orgasms. Even more than the pairing of pleasure and pain, the ability to force a bitch into orgasm just does yummy things to my sexual psyche. I had virtuously restrained my more sadistic impulses, although both the pair and my favourite had gleefully accepted the way I worked off my frustrations on their eager bodies. There wasn't a martyr in the bunch.

But after ninety days, I was ready for a little entertainment. Although it wasn't time for her weekly purging, I put the wild bitch through the usual series of enemas and a thorough high colonic before grooming her carefully. She looked entirely edible as she lay stretched out on the examination table, legs spread wide, her freshly shaved genitals gleaming under the lights, her eager cunt beginning to ooze a little in anticipation.

By the time I had worked two gloved fingers into her ass, she was soaking wet, simply in response to the anal penetration. She gasped as I attached the clothespins to her outer labia, six prosaic wooden clamps set in pairs on either side of her neglected clitoris, with a lucky seventh attached right at the apex, where the folds of her sex met at her centreline.

The pressure wasn't harsh, but the nip seized her attention very nicely, particularly when I attached the chains to each one, opening her sex like a flower, further exposing her clitoris for my touch. The anal probe wasn't particularly large, but it was fat and curvy, with electrical contact strips around the neck as well as down each side.

She arched her back, hips fighting the restraints as she tried to rise up in welcome when I slid the vaginal probe in her gushing cunt. I barely even noticed the hiss and thump of the compressor as the nipple suction tubes began to work their magic. All my attention was focused on her clitoris.

That tiny bundle of nerves was the key to her sexual response, although I had carefully conditioned her to find pleasure in penetration. She had been encouraged to masturbate since her first day of training, and granted the pleasure of clitoral vibration as part of her various treatments. With the foundation properly established, it was time to begin a course of extreme clitoral stimulation and forced orgasms.

Things were getting pretty crowded with the probes and the clamps, but I still found room for a couple of TENS pads to trigger each of her sphincters in whatever way struck my fancy. Hooking my ankle around a stool, I settled down between her widespread thighs, making myself comfortable for what would be a prolonged session.

Her clitoral shaft was small when compared to the well developed clits of my other bitches, particularly my favourite, since I didn't need to concern myself about her resale value. Extreme clitoral stimulation is a regular part of my training techniques for every bitch, but I had taken matters quite a bit farther with my Finished Bitch, resulting in permanent body modifications.

It was far too early to tell if the wild caught bitch would be worth keeping, but I would begin introducing what were among my favourite training techniques over the next few months. At the very least, it would vastly increase her responsiveness and her orgasmic capabilities.

Although the wild bitch was trained enough to lie quietly, I could almost see the question marks floating over her hooded head. Chuckling, I ran a slick thumb over her clitoral shaft, gently stroking it, waking the sleeping nub with tender patience. I had watched her masturbate for months, so I copied her habitual caress, a light, rapid flick of my fingertip across the shaft.

She squirmed happily, despite the bite of the clamps and the unfamiliar probes that filled her slick holes. I turned on the current with my free hand, delighted by her purrs of pleasure. After weeks of regular e-stim therapy, I knew precisely what setting would arouse her most.

Smiling in anticipation, I pressed the final TENS pads directly over her clitoris, where the current would provide her very first experience with extreme clitoral stimulation. Although there would come a time when I would use painful stimuli to work that tender bundle of nerves, this time it was enough to test her endurance.

Months of training had developed her strength, flexibility and ensured that she could last the entire two hour training period. Although she had been experiencing multiple orgasms each day, for the first time I deliberately induced orgasm, carefully pairing each climax with both anal stimulation and increasing levels of clitoral stimulation.

She was a sweat soaked, exhausted mess after two hours, come and lube coating the examination table and puddling on to the floor between her trembling thighs. The clamps had been reset multiple times, and finally discarded, replaced by rubber padded forceps with embedded electrical contacts. The sounds she made when those forceps were carefully clamped on either side of her clitoral shaft were thoroughly enchanting. Her sex was red and swollen and she surely needed a bit of cleaning up.

After removing the various probes from her body, I restored the circulation with her first clitoral whipping, using a narrow silicone slapper that stung fiercely without causing bruising or deeper damage. She was well tenderized when I rolled the examination table into the wash stall and set her up for a little hydrotherapy.

The massaging shower head delivered a steady pulse of hot water to ease her aching body. After aiming the nozzle so that the water gushed over her clitoris, I set the timer and left her there for an hour.

One of the most appealing things about serious pony training is the modern harness. Developed by a consortium of experts from many fields, it was designed to ensure the safety of each pony, as well as providing a way to test their skills, their obedience and their responsiveness. There were multiple manufacturers, and long lists of requirements and restrictions that were strictly enforced by the stewards.

The specifications were precise, with minimum and maximum dimensions determined by a pony's age, experience, gender and previous performance in competitions, as well as by the pony's height, weight and measurements. No matter how well a pony did in competition, unless they passed the health checks and performance testing that were an integral part of each event, there was no hope of a win. The medical examinations were both thorough and invasive, ensuring that ponies were not permanently damaged by either their training or by the efforts of competition.

Owners of ponies who failed their health checks faced both the censure of their peers and serious fines. Accidents happened, and every pony had an off day now and then, but the stewards had the power to retire any pony they deemed unfit. The system wasn't perfect, but it had all but eliminated outright abuse and neglect. Ours was a close knit community of seriously perverted deviants. Most Owners were quite diligent in ensuring that their ponies were well cared for.

After ninety days in training, most Owners would have a wild caught bitch well accustomed to the pony harness. Many would already have had the bitch hitched to a cart or carriage, but I was convinced that rushing the early stages in training results in problems later on. I've seen far too many promising ponies flunk out during the mandatory examinations and performance testing in competition. Young bitches are notoriously unreliable, which is why many novice Owners choose to show studs.

Prostate milking and the ready sexuality of most males make studs easier to handle in many ways.

When the timer went off, I turned off the water and studied the results of the day's activities. Gloving up, I pumped a generous quantity of lube on my fingers before slicking up the wild bitch. Her genitals were flushed red with the heat of the water and the hours of intense stimulation, the delicate folds swollen and puffy and deliciously sensitive. She shuddered with pleasure, aftershocks rippling through her weary body as I fitted her with the pony harness for the very first time.

After three months of Epino training, rectal massage and anal relaxation therapy, the butt plug and dildo slipped in easily and without trauma. Accustomed to wearing the training belt, the wild bitch made no protest as I fastened the straps around her waist and hips. The chest harness was new to her, but she wasn't worried, well used to being handled and moved around.

With the leads neatly tied off in a bundle, I hobbled her to the leg spreader bar and coaxed her off the wash rack and into motion. I put her directly on to the treadmill. Ponies need regular exercise if one hopes to get any sort of performance out of them. The wild bitch wobbled a bit at first, but she soon hit her stride. Although the presence of the vaginal dildo was new, she was well accustomed to exercising while impaled by some sort of anal device.

After twenty minutes or so at an easy jog trot, the wild bitch had settled down nicely. I slowed the treadmill to a halt and began hitching her harness to the training frame. A proper pony harness is a bastard hybrid between a sling, a mountain climber's safety harness and total suspension bondage. I started her back up at a walk, letting her discover the way the harness moved differently on and in her body when she was hitched up to the training frame.

It wasn't long until she was jogging again, and getting tired. She had been exhausted by hours of extreme clitoral stimulation throughout the day. I pushed her to the point of muscle fatigue and the deliberately increased the speed of the tread mill. I wanted to make her fall, to make her test the limits of her harness.

She staggered, surging in the harness as the treadmill took off, the sudden increase in pace catching her off guard. A second change of pace did the trick. The wild bitch stumbled, and would have gone to her knees had it not been for her harness. Instead she was suspended above the still moving treadmill, now moving faster than she could run.

With a startled cry, the wild bitch discovered that she couldn't fall. The harness kept her upright and a minimum distance away from the treadmill's running deck, although her toes would drag if she didn't bend her knees. I slowed the treadmill, and put a hand on the wild bitch's shoulder, knocking her off balance as soon as she regained her feet. She lost her center and bounced in training frame, the lines squeaking as her weight rocked in the harness.

I started and stopped the treadmill, running it at varying rates of speed, with sudden changes of incline and pace. My favourite and I took turns knocking the wild bitch from her feet, delivering the smallest push possible to get the desire results.

I wasn't being cruel or arbitrary. It was the most effective way to teach the wild bitch to trust the pony harness, and she was far from stupid. The wild bitch was a little startled each time we pushed her off balance, but she was soon swinging in the harness, swiftly working out the trick of pulling up her knees to avoid dragging her toes.

It didn't take her long to try simply riding in the harness, a trick she had seen my Finished Bitch perform when I had permitted her to watch the workouts. I chuckled, delighted by her eagerness. She liked getting off, even this early in her training. It had been a very long and eventful day, and she had been deliberately pushed to new levels of performance. She had to be tired, but she was a horny bitch. All the slow weeks of training began to show their results in moments like that. The long hours of classical conditioning paid off. The endless days of carefully setting her up to win meant that her attitude was brilliant.

The position that displayed my favourite so beautifully required athletic effort. What a Finished Bitch could hold for long moments took work in a wild bitch. She grunted, belly muscles rippling as she curled her pelvic up, swinging from the hips and bending her knees in order to roll up and hook her feet against the supports built into the frame. Her hands curled around the upper bars, biceps popping as she pulled her upper body up into the crunch.

Ponies in harness need to be able to move about within the frame of the carriage itself. The system was designed to permit maximum athletic effort while ensuring the safety of the pony within its shafts. All the design and material specifications in the rule book were as high tech as those for Formula One automobile racing. For example, the rules dictated the length of the check rein (which ran from the top of a pony's helmet back to an attachment point on the frame) as well as the minimum standards for flexion and range of motion of the line when under stress, as well as the rein's ability to withstand sudden impact.

A pony's harness is designed to keep both pony and driver safe while moving over the carefully tended turf tracks used in competition. Rather than just having wheels on the carriage itself, the shafts of the frame rested on additional wheels with heavy shocks and an elaborate suspension system. The cross country endurance events, at which my favourite excelled, required that all carriages used wheels similar to those used for mountain bikes. The carriages for the cross country events were sturdier, and perhaps less decorate than those used in the fine harness events, but they were still sleek and beautiful.

The training frame was fashioned of slightly heavier materials, designed to be used in conjunction with a treadmill, rather than a proper carriage. The shock absorbers flexed, softening the impact as the wild bitch struggled to brace herself as she had seen my Finished Bitch do so many times.

It was an ambitious move for a novice, and demonstrated a hunger and an eagerness I wanted to encourage. I immediately rewarded her with e-stim for both her holes, delighting in her hungry cries. After the day's marathon training session, she tired quickly, unable to hold the posture for long.

Her limbs were trembling with exhaustion by the time my bitch and I moved her to the wash stall. I rubbed her down carefully, paying particular attention to her feet and legs.

After only one day, I could see the results of the extreme clitoral stimulation program. The wild bitch's clitoris was delightfully swollen. It would be another twelve to eighteen months before she was ready for her first competition, but she was off to a great start.

Ponies are high maintenance. For every hour in harness, a pony requires three to five hours of work on the ground. They're labour intensive, which is why so many Owners employ grooms, professional handlers and trainers.

Even if I had the money to hire grooms, I think I'd still do it the way I always have. I liked the fact that with wild stock, I was starting with a blank slate, without having to reverse engineer a pony's training. There were no long months wasted `un-learning' bad habits. Mine was the first hand the wild bitch had likely known, undoubtedly the first overt control she would have encountered since early childhood.

For most people, the power dynamics inherent in any relationship between two self-aware entities are buried under layers of social expectation, personal diplomacy and manners. Humans rarely exercise power in "civilized societies" in an overt fashion. It's always hidden, usually based on manipulation, and often passive aggressive as hell. At the other end of the spectrum, the power I held over the wild bitch was clearly defined and utterly without a hidden agenda. The price of that control was the additional care that the wild ones need, particularly during the early months of training.

In her third week of training, she was learning, masturbating enthusiastically during her various treatments, eagerly working towards orgasm. She was particularly fond of her Epino training, which was always paired with clitoral stimulation using the Hitachi Magic Wand.

She now wore the fourth rectal dilator for her rectal relaxation therapy, which still occurred twice daily, although she was fitted with the third, somewhat smaller dilator most of the time. She was going for two brisk walks on the treadmill each day, with a slower pace set at the beginning and the end of her session, to provide a basic warm up and cool down until the wild bitch was broken enough to begin flexibility training.

Grooming had been hasty, simply maintaining the required level of hygiene and letting the bitch grow accustomed to being handled so intimately.

Grooming is an essential stepping stone, further the developing the bond between pony and trainer. The wild bitch was coming along nicely; a proper grooming routine would only facilitate her progress from fresh catch to finished bitch. Aside from the few brief moments of rebellion, she had presented no real challenge. That told me I was doing my job correctly.

Some people who work with wild ponies like to goad them into wild rebellions, to fight them into submission. I prefer a more classic approach. With proper handling, the wild bitch would assist in her own training without even realizing it. Humans are supposedly superior to animals, but when it comes to training, behaviour modification, and conditioning routines, the human brain is little different from that of a lab rat. The wild bitch was responding just the way she should.

Most ponies learn to love their grooming sessions, and I was confident that the wild bitch would be no different. I could almost see the wheels turning in her head as my favourite and I moved her into position in the wash stall. The cross ties were little different from other postures and poses she had been trained to take, just one more form of basic four point restraint, with her arms and legs star fished.

Instead of the usual brisk hosing and a quick, impersonal rubdown and rinse, I introduced the wild bitch to the sensual pleasure of a proper grooming. There were sponges, brushes and rubbing cloths, both soft and scratchy. I used moisturizing body wash, delicately scented. The razor slid easily over her soap slicked skin as I shaved her armpits and her legs, removing weeks of growth.

She was pliantly obedient as my favourite and I moved her into the next position. The wash rack was a cross between an examination table and the shower chair used to bathe patients with profound paralysis or other mobility limitations. Hours spent in extreme bondage had already improved the wild bitch's flexibility. She made no protest as I cranked the leg supports open until she was spread wide, her sex nicely exposed for a proper grooming.

Deaf and blind inside her helmet, she lay quietly as I trimmed away her pubic hair and then shaved her, until her sex and ass were silky smooth. My pair, trained to attend to much of their own grooming, routinely waxed each other, but I still shaved my favourite daily. We both enjoyed the intimacy of the daily grooming rituals. The wild bitch would be shaved daily as well, as part of her daily grooming. She made small sounds of pleasure as I massaged her now smooth and silky genitals, carefully moisturizing her newly exposed skin.

'No foot, no horse.' The adage is older than written records, and it's no less true for human ponies than it is for those with four legs and hooves. I scrubbed the wild bitch's feet, and gave her a careful pedicure, following it up with a long, slow foot massage that had her groaning in pleasure.

Later in her training, there would be hydrotherapy sessions associated with her grooming, but I was not yet prepared to offer her much in the way of clitoral stimulation, aside from her own touch and the carefully monitored sessions with the Hitachi Magic Wand during her Epino sessions. The wild bitch had not yet developed the muscle control, endurance or flexibility to perform at the standards I require. I would not introduce extreme clitoral stimulation until she was fully prepared and capable of producing the sort of performance I demand of my ponies.

She seemed surprised to receive a thorough facial. It only made sense to tend carefully to a pony's skin when she spent so much time hooded. It would be several months before she was ready to experience the world without the shelter of blindfolds and earplugs.

The wild bitch was calm, relaxed and almost drowsy at the end of her grooming session. She shuffled obediently to the examination table for her Epino session, now adept at the rapid, wide legged scamper that the leg spreader bar imposed. Her breathing speeded up in anticipation of the pleasure she knew she would experience during the training, fluids beginning to ooze from her eager cunt as I worked lube into her asshole.

She had been responding well to the dilation training, with both the rectal dilators and the Epino sessions. Now that she was properly groomed, it was time to focus on muscle control and endurance. Only a well trained and conditioned PC muscle will produce the sort of performance I require.

The TENS pads attached neatly to her smooth, naked sex, with four pads surrounding her anus, and two on either side of her vaginal opening. The electrical stimulation was not intended to be painful. The TENS unit would be used just as it was designed to be ^Ö to electronically induce the targeted muscles into contracting according to the settings on the machine.

The wild bitch was not yet required to master the isolation and control of her PC muscle. Instead, the e-stim would fire off her sphincters without her control, clamping down on the Epino units and sending the pressure gauge needles dancing. Just as she had slowly been introduced to greater and greater levels of dilation, the e-stim would now begin to work her sphincters and her pelvic floor, developing her strength and endurance.

The settings, instrument readings, levels of dilation and most importantly, the strength of her contractions were carefully recorded on her training chart. There would be an increasing number of repetitions, and the e-stim settings would be increased in both strength and duration, until the wild bitch was clamping down hard, both fore and aft.

Her clitoris was deliberately neglected. I only introduce extreme clitoral stimulation when I am sure that a wild bitch is capable of the sort of athletic effort necessary to produce powerful, multiple orgasms. Oh, she was encouraged to play with her clitoris, and she was given the Hitachi Magic Wand to play with when she was put through the dilation phase of her Epino training, but orgasm wasn't really the focus of her training yet.

I was simply establishing the basics, building a proper foundation for the more advanced training she would receive later. By her fourth week of training, she was settling in nicely to a standard training stable routine. Each day, she was bathed, groomed, shaved and exercised on the treadmill according to an increasingly demanding training schedule. She was hand fed and watered, toileted and bound in a variety of extreme bondage poses to increase her flexibility. There were daily training sessions with the Epino for dilation, supplemented with electrical stimulation for the contraction phase of her sphincter training.

Training and handling was always conducted while the wild bitch was deprived of sight and hearing, although she was allowed to observe my favourite and the pair during their daily training sessions. The only other visual input the wild bitch received was from the DVD player, which continued to play a mix of educational videos and extreme porn.

After thirty days, I introduced vacuum therapy during her dilation sessions. She was reliably producing good, strong orgasms as she stimulated her clitoris with the Hitachi Magic Wand while the Epino units opened her wider and wider. The hiss and thump of the vacuum pump was annoying, but she was deaf and blind inside her hood. Her nipples began to show immediate improvement, in both size and sensitivity, the treatment just as effective as it always is.

After six weeks, she was comfortably wearing the fifth and largest rectal dilator during her anal relaxation sessions. Although it was too large for her to wear in her training harness during serious exercise sessions on the treadmill, the bitch was hand walked for a minimum of twenty minutes daily while firmly impaled by the fifth dilator. It's good discipline, and helps prepare my ponies for their advanced training.

Sixty days into her training, and the wild bitch's body was beginning to show the effects of her various treatments and therapies. Without the pressures and distractions of modern life, her only focus was her body, particularly during her training sessions when the senses of sight and hearing were removed. Of course, a good trainer keeps meticulous records, so I wasn't going to settle for the unscientific observations of the naked eye.

After her weekly purging, I began a complete examination and testing procedure that would soon become yet one more familiar routine. The wild bitch had actually gained a few kilos, although the measurements of her waist and hips had been reduced by several centimetres over what had been recorded at the time of her capture. Temperature and blood pressure were both normal, although her percentage of body fat had dropped dramatically.

Her nipples stood up proudly, swift to harden at the slightest provocation, and so sensitive that only a few minutes' manipulation produced copious vaginal secretions. After carefully recording the precise measurements of her nipples, I began the internal examination and testing.

Although she was well accustomed to the Hirshfeld speculum with its removable central core, she whimpered as I inserted the rectal speculum, perhaps anticipating what would come. Certainly she had watched enough videos and witnessed my favourite and the pair during their testing sessions. The leads dangling from the speculum were a dead giveaway. She had to know what those wires were for.

The benefits of Epino training were evident in how easily she dilated to accept the vaginal speculum, despite her worries. With a slow and steady touch, I cranked open both instruments until her anus and her vagina were dilated at their maximum capacity. She was beautiful, so aroused, both fearful of and eager for the electrical stimulation that would soon pour through the metal instruments that held her open wide.

Electrotherapy can by painful, but it can also provide impossible and merciless ecstasy. After years of breaking dozens of wild bitches, I had a deft touch, and knew what settings and what intensity was the most effective for most bitches. She liked the frequencies set a little slower than my favourite, but faster than either of the pair, although she couldn't tolerate the same level of intensity. That would come with time, and experience, and the confidence that developed as she learned to trust her Trainer.

The wild bitch's frightened whimpers soon turned to crooning and sighs, and then to wild cries of astonished delight as her body responded to the stimulation. Even without the benefit of clitoral stimulation, she was soon writhing and rocking in the restraints as she was wracked by a powerful orgasm, the spasms prolonged by the merciless precision of the electrical current transmitted through the steel that held her open.

I let her rest as I typed a few notes into her file and then gently released each speculum before easing it from her body. It took several minutes for her sphincters to close, stunned into temporary submission by the electrical current. I would deliberately trigger the same gape at regular intervals as her training continued, using a variety of training techniques. As long as the dilation procedures were balanced by those that triggered contraction of the pelvic floor and sphincters, I would avoid the problems associated with repeated extreme penetration.

I was very pleased by her performance thus far, and decided to introduce her to the Sybian. The pair shot the newest member of our training stable distinctly envious looks as I began the set up. Like most women who have encountered it, all my bitches are enamoured of the Sybian and the pleasures it brings. Women all over the world have been successfully conditioned to experience orgasm from penetrative sex by the device. Although I use it in ways perhaps not intended by the manufacturer, it's a powerful tool for conditioning.

The wild bitch was wobbly legged as hell as we poured her from the examination frame, hobbled her and moved her over to the Sybian. Her sphincters were still open, so mounting her was accomplished easily enough, the two well lubricated phalluses easing into her ass and vagina. She moaned as I cranked the handle that elevated the Sybian on its platform until she was suspended, feet dangling, securely impaled and unable to escape.

Each dildo vibrated, rotated and plunged up and down, providing internal stimulation while the powerful motor assaulted the bitch's clitoris with a level of vibration that surpassed even that provided by the Hitachi Magic Wand. The bitch was effortlessly forced into multiple orgasms, howling and wailing as her body spasmed helplessly.

Careful manipulation of the stimulation levels ensured that the bitch didn't experience sensory exhaustion. I let her rest several times, and changed the settings numerous times, to ensure the most thorough and effective treatment. The Sybian would become a much anticipated reward, granted for exceptional performance.

Flushed and sweating, the wild bitch shuddered and moaned through a healthy thirty minute treatment. As her training progressed, she would develop the endurance to ride the Sybian for longer and longer periods of time, but half an hour was long enough for a novice.

In a perfect world, I would have some spiffy machine that would put my bitches through a full Pilates or yoga workout. Alas, I don't live in a perfect world, and I have a budget limited by the realities of a more mundane existence, despite my perversions. Instead of some high tech toy that would bend and stretch my ponies, I used extreme bondage and my crazy system of ropes and pulleys to develop their flexibility.

The wild bitch whimpered a little as I cranked down on the lines, forcing her legs farther apart as she lay on her back in her cage. She spent much of her day forced to hold a variety of postures, each of which exposed her ass and sex, each day introducing her to greater extension or flexion of the key muscles, ligaments and tendons.

After two months of training, the wild caught bitch was almost to the point of being able to do a full split. Each day, I slowly stretched her further and further, careful not to induce sprains or strains, although she was often stiff and sore in the mornings. A good grooming, a little massage and a slow, careful warm up would always return her to good form.

She was more than capable of holding the position I forced her into, although it was something less than comfortable. I had begun alternating the rectal dilators, and on that day she was wearing the comfortable third dilator for the anal relaxation therapy I generally paired with her flexibility training. She had to hold each posture for fifteen minutes, which worked nicely with the rhythms of the anal vibration. It also ensured that the bitch associated the postures with sexual pleasure. The more demanding positions often included limited clitoral stimulation of some type, usually self-induced. After years of training, I've found that it's best to develop the strength, flexibility and muscle control before introducing extreme clitoral stimulation. The delay ensures that the introduction of a proper pony harness is without confrontation.

Only when the bitch could hold all the required postures for an extended period of time without discomfort or distress would I consider introducing the more advanced training techniques. I did, however, mount the bitch on the Sybian twice more over the next month, much to her delight, particularly since I had begun to phase out the Hitachi Magic Wand during her Epino sessions. She was dilating without fear or discomfort, having developed a firm association between the Epino training and orgasm. She still climaxed during the Epino sessions, both during the dilation phase as well as during the e-stim assisted contraction training.

After three months, my wild one was coming along nicely. She was flexible enough to assume any pose I required of her, capable of holding even the most demanding postures. Ninety days of careful conditioning meant that she consistently responded to anal penetration with intense arousal. Sensory deprivation and tight bondage was a reliable precursor to orgasm, again resulting in intense arousal and a well trained desire to masturbate.

More than a few Owners would roll their eyes, and point to the wild caught ponies in their stables that were much further along in their training after three months, but I was more than pleased with her progress. The wild bitch was years away from being ready for her first competition, but I had established a firm foundation for future training.

There's something inherently erotic about forced orgasms. Even more than the pairing of pleasure and pain, the ability to force a bitch into orgasm just does yummy things to my sexual psyche. I had virtuously restrained my more sadistic impulses, although both the pair and my favourite had gleefully accepted the way I worked off my frustrations on their eager bodies. There wasn't a martyr in the bunch.

But after ninety days, I was ready for a little entertainment. Although it wasn't time for her weekly purging, I put the wild bitch through the usual series of enemas and a thorough high colonic before grooming her carefully. She looked entirely edible as she lay stretched out on the examination table, legs spread wide, her freshly shaved genitals gleaming under the lights, her eager cunt beginning to ooze a little in anticipation.

By the time I had worked two gloved fingers into her ass, she was soaking wet, simply in response to the anal penetration. She gasped as I attached the clothespins to her outer labia, six prosaic wooden clamps set in pairs on either side of her neglected clitoris, with a lucky seventh attached right at the apex, where the folds of her sex met at her centreline.

The pressure wasn't harsh, but the nip seized her attention very nicely, particularly when I attached the chains to each one, opening her sex like a flower, further exposing her clitoris for my touch. The anal probe wasn't particularly large, but it was fat and curvy, with electrical contact strips around the neck as well as down each side.

She arched her back, hips fighting the restraints as she tried to rise up in welcome when I slid the vaginal probe in her gushing cunt. I barely even noticed the hiss and thump of the compressor as the nipple suction tubes began to work their magic. All my attention was focused on her clitoris.

That tiny bundle of nerves was the key to her sexual response, although I had carefully conditioned her to find pleasure in penetration. She had been encouraged to masturbate since her first day of training, and granted the pleasure of clitoral vibration as part of her various treatments. With the foundation properly established, it was time to begin a course of extreme clitoral stimulation and forced orgasms.

Things were getting pretty crowded with the probes and the clamps, but I still found room for a couple of TENS pads to trigger each of her sphincters in whatever way struck my fancy. Hooking my ankle around a stool, I settled down between her widespread thighs, making myself comfortable for what would be a prolonged session.

Her clitoral shaft was small when compared to the well developed clits of my other bitches, particularly my favourite, since I didn't need to concern myself about her resale value. Extreme clitoral stimulation is a regular part of my training techniques for every bitch, but I had taken matters quite a bit farther with my Finished Bitch, resulting in permanent body modifications.

It was far too early to tell if the wild caught bitch would be worth keeping, but I would begin introducing what were among my favourite training techniques over the next few months. At the very least, it would vastly increase her responsiveness and her orgasmic capabilities.

Although the wild bitch was trained enough to lie quietly, I could almost see the question marks floating over her hooded head. Chuckling, I ran a slick thumb over her clitoral shaft, gently stroking it, waking the sleeping nub with tender patience. I had watched her masturbate for months, so I copied her habitual caress, a light, rapid flick of my fingertip across the shaft.

She squirmed happily, despite the bite of the clamps and the unfamiliar probes that filled her slick holes. I turned on the current with my free hand, delighted by her purrs of pleasure. After weeks of regular e-stim therapy, I knew precisely what setting would arouse her most.

Smiling in anticipation, I pressed the final TENS pads directly over her clitoris, where the current would provide her very first experience with extreme clitoral stimulation. Although there would come a time when I would use painful stimuli to work that tender bundle of nerves, this time it was enough to test her endurance.

Months of training had developed her strength, flexibility and ensured that she could last the entire two hour training period. Although she had been experiencing multiple orgasms each day, for the first time I deliberately induced orgasm, carefully pairing each climax with both anal stimulation and increasing levels of clitoral stimulation.

She was a sweat soaked, exhausted mess after two hours, come and lube coating the examination table and puddling on to the floor between her trembling thighs. The clamps had been reset multiple times, and finally discarded, replaced by rubber padded forceps with embedded electrical contacts. The sounds she made when those forceps were carefully clamped on either side of her clitoral shaft were thoroughly enchanting. Her sex was red and swollen and she surely needed a bit of cleaning up.

After removing the various probes from her body, I restored the circulation with her first clitoral whipping, using a narrow silicone slapper that stung fiercely without causing bruising or deeper damage. She was well tenderized when I rolled the examination table into the wash stall and set her up for a little hydrotherapy.

The massaging shower head delivered a steady pulse of hot water to ease her aching body. After aiming the nozzle so that the water gushed over her clitoris, I set the timer and left her there for an hour.

One of the most appealing things about serious pony training is the modern harness. Developed by a consortium of experts from many fields, it was designed to ensure the safety of each pony, as well as providing a way to test their skills, their obedience and their responsiveness. There were multiple manufacturers, and long lists of requirements and restrictions that were strictly enforced by the stewards.

The specifications were precise, with minimum and maximum dimensions determined by a pony's age, experience, gender and previous performance in competitions, as well as by the pony's height, weight and measurements. No matter how well a pony did in competition, unless they passed the health checks and performance testing that were an integral part of each event, there was no hope of a win. The medical examinations were both thorough and invasive, ensuring that ponies were not permanently damaged by either their training or by the efforts of competition.

Owners of ponies who failed their health checks faced both the censure of their peers and serious fines. Accidents happened, and every pony had an off day now and then, but the stewards had the power to retire any pony they deemed unfit. The system wasn't perfect, but it had all but eliminated outright abuse and neglect. Ours was a close knit community of seriously perverted deviants. Most Owners were quite diligent in ensuring that their ponies were well cared for.

After ninety days in training, most Owners would have a wild caught bitch well accustomed to the pony harness. Many would already have had the bitch hitched to a cart or carriage, but I was convinced that rushing the early stages in training results in problems later on. I've seen far too many promising ponies flunk out during the mandatory examinations and performance testing in competition. Young bitches are notoriously unreliable, which is why many novice Owners choose to show studs.

Prostate milking and the ready sexuality of most males make studs easier to handle in many ways.

When the timer went off, I turned off the water and studied the results of the day's activities. Gloving up, I pumped a generous quantity of lube on my fingers before slicking up the wild bitch. Her genitals were flushed red with the heat of the water and the hours of intense stimulation, the delicate folds swollen and puffy and deliciously sensitive. She shuddered with pleasure, aftershocks rippling through her weary body as I fitted her with the pony harness for the very first time.

After three months of Epino training, rectal massage and anal relaxation therapy, the butt plug and dildo slipped in easily and without trauma. Accustomed to wearing the training belt, the wild bitch made no protest as I fastened the straps around her waist and hips. The chest harness was new to her, but she wasn't worried, well used to being handled and moved around.

With the leads neatly tied off in a bundle, I hobbled her to the leg spreader bar and coaxed her off the wash rack and into motion. I put her directly on to the treadmill. Ponies need regular exercise if one hopes to get any sort of performance out of them. The wild bitch wobbled a bit at first, but she soon hit her stride. Although the presence of the vaginal dildo was new, she was well accustomed to exercising while impaled by some sort of anal device.

After twenty minutes or so at an easy jog trot, the wild bitch had settled down nicely. I slowed the treadmill to a halt and began hitching her harness to the training frame. A proper pony harness is a bastard hybrid between a sling, a mountain climber's safety harness and total suspension bondage. I started her back up at a walk, letting her discover the way the harness moved differently on and in her body when she was hitched up to the training frame.

It wasn't long until she was jogging again, and getting tired. She had been exhausted by hours of extreme clitoral stimulation throughout the day. I pushed her to the point of muscle fatigue and the deliberately increased the speed of the tread mill. I wanted to make her fall, to make her test the limits of her harness.

She staggered, surging in the harness as the treadmill took off, the sudden increase in pace catching her off guard. A second change of pace did the trick. The wild bitch stumbled, and would have gone to her knees had it not been for her harness. Instead she was suspended above the still moving treadmill, now moving faster than she could run.

With a startled cry, the wild bitch discovered that she couldn't fall. The harness kept her upright and a minimum distance away from the treadmill's running deck, although her toes would drag if she didn't bend her knees. I slowed the treadmill, and put a hand on the wild bitch's shoulder, knocking her off balance as soon as she regained her feet. She lost her center and bounced in training frame, the lines squeaking as her weight rocked in the harness.

She soon discovered that the probes filling both her holes were wired for e-stim. I started and stopped the treadmill, running it at varying rates of speed, with sudden changes of incline and pace. My favourite and I took turns knocking the wild bitch from her feet, delivering the smallest push possible to get the desire results.

I wasn't being cruel or arbitrary. It was the most effective way to teach the wild bitch to trust the pony harness, and she was far from stupid. The wild bitch was a little startled each time we pushed her off balance, but she was soon swinging in the harness, swiftly working out the trick of pulling up her knees to avoid dragging her toes.

It didn't take her long to try simply riding in the harness, a trick she had seen my Finished Bitch perform when I had permitted her to watch the workouts. I chuckled, delighted by her eagerness. She liked getting off, even this early in her training. It had been a very long and eventful day, and she had been deliberately pushed to new levels of performance. She had to be tired, but she was a horny bitch. All the slow weeks of training began to show their results in moments like that. The long hours of classical conditioning paid off. The endless days of carefully setting her up to win meant that her attitude was brilliant.

The position that displayed my favourite so beautifully required athletic effort. What a Finished Bitch could hold for long moments took work in a wild bitch. She grunted, belly muscles rippling as she curled her pelvic up, swinging from the hips and bending her knees in order to roll up and hook her feet against the supports built into the frame. Her hands curled around the upper bars, biceps popping as she pulled her upper body up into the crunch.

Ponies in harness need to be able to move about within the frame of the carriage itself. The system was designed to permit maximum athletic effort while ensuring the safety of the pony within its shafts. All the design and material specifications in the rule book were as high tech as those for Formula One automobile racing. For example, the rules dictated the length of the check rein (which ran from the top of a pony's helmet back to an attachment point on the frame) as well as the minimum standards for flexion and range of motion of the line when under stress, as well as the rein's ability to withstand sudden impact.

A pony's harness is designed to keep both pony and driver safe while moving over the carefully tended turf tracks used in competition. Rather than just having wheels on the carriage itself, the shafts of the frame rested on additional wheels with heavy shocks and an elaborate suspension system. The cross country endurance events, at which my favourite excelled, required that all carriages used wheels similar to those used for mountain bikes. The carriages for the cross country events were sturdier, and perhaps less decorate than those used in the fine harness events, but they were still sleek and beautiful.

The training frame was fashioned of slightly heavier materials, designed to be used in conjunction with a treadmill, rather than a proper carriage. The shock absorbers flexed, softening the impact as the wild bitch struggled to brace herself as she had seen my Finished Bitch do so many times.

It was an ambitious move for a novice, and demonstrated a hunger and an eagerness I wanted to encourage. I immediately rewarded her with e-stim for both her holes, delighting in her hungry cries. After the day's marathon training session, she tired quickly, unable to hold the posture for long.

Her limbs were trembling with exhaustion by the time my bitch and I moved her to the wash stall. I rubbed her down carefully, paying particular attention to her feet and legs. After only one day, I could see the results of the extreme clitoral stimulation program. The wild bitch's clitoris was delightfully swollen. It would be another twelve to eighteen months before she was ready for her first competition, but she was off to a great start.