Sabel Ch. 01-03

She asked me to hand out the students some printed material and I obeyed. As I walked between the rows, I could feel her eyes on my back; I didn't dare to turn, but I could swear that she was evaluating my buttocks. I felt a sort of halo coming from those steel-blue eyes and enveloping me.

As I got to the last row, a kind of scene came into my mind, I don't know from where.

A cozy room with a fire, a soft carpet on the floor, books on the shelves. A blonde woman is sitting in an armchair, leafing through a magazine, wearing that black bikini. Her vest is open, revealing her flat belly, but the boots are gone: she has nothing on her feet. She is eating candies and absentmindedly dropping the small wraps on the floor. I focus my eyes and to my surprise I recognize our teacher, Miss Cathy.

I am squatting at her feet, facing her, and can feel the heat from the fireplace on my skin - I am naked, or almost. Only a thin strap of red leather circles my waist; from a ring on it, another strap comes down my crotch and goes up my ass crack into another ring on the back of my belt. The leather itches against my slit. I look down and see that my mound is shaven; also, I have a red leather collar around my neck.

Why am I wearing that ponygirl outfit? I don't know. I collect the tiny papers she throws down and carefully fold them. My eyes are glued to Miss Cathy's hand, waiting for the next one to come down. Calmly, she uncrosses her legs and her foot lands on my left breast; she caresses it with her delicate sole and I quiver - what is it that I am feeling? Why is she doing that? She pinches my nipple between her big toe and the next and gently squeezes it. I look up at her: she turns a page of the magazine and goes on with her reading.

I look at her perfect toes. My nipple appears between them - and suddenly I realize that it has a ring on it! How can that be? Since then has it been there? I don't know!

She pinches my nose with her other foot. She has been walking with those black boots and her toes still have a distant scent of leather on them. The pad of her foot is just over my lips; I open them and run the tip of my tongue on the soft skin. It tastes slightly salty. She drops another tiny paper and I know that I have to collect it, but don't dare to move.

All that appeared vividly in my mind's eye. The strangest thing about this vision was that the scene seemed sonatural- my being there at Miss Cathy's feet, the straps on my body, the collar, and the ring - I was stupefied.

"SABEL!"

Miss Cathy's voice woke me up from my daydream. I turned to her, my face burning - if I were white, it would look like Santa Claus' jacket. Luckily we blacks don't blush!

"Yes, Miss Cathy?"

She clapped her crop on her palm.

"Are you sleeping, girl? I don't have the whole day!"

There was nothing I could say. I hastened to hand out those sheets, which seemed to burn my hands. I tiptoed back to my seat and sat down, rummaging in my bag to conceal my embarrassment: how could such an image pop out in my mind?

I looked up at her name written on the board. It glistened against the black surface, and something blurred was written after it. I focused my eyes – "ow... owner.... owner of..." The words disappeared as the teacher's voice sounded again. The class had begun and I had to pay attention.

After some moments I looked again at again the blackboard: the words were gone. I felt disquieted. I barely knew that woman, and yet was sure that some mysterious bond had been created between us. But what kind of bond?

Chapter Three: A lesson in submissiveness

The following day, Sabel was sitting in a cafeteria with her friends Robin and Charra, who had also enrolled in the course. Robin, a pretty mulatto girl whose parents belonged to the Sixth Station, worked in the street sweeping section; Charra, a daughter of Mexican immigrants also in the Sixth Station, was her best friend and had a position in the garbage-processing plant.

Since the previous day, Sabel had read so many times the paper Miss Cathy had asked her to hand out that she could almost repeat it by heart. It read:

1. By enrolling in this course you will learn to act and serve in a submissive manner as a ponygirl. If you fail to follow verbal instructions, you may expect to be bound and disciplined to help you learn better.

2. If you belong to the Sixth Station and fail the midterm examination, you will be sent back to your former job and forbidden to take any other course or exams for the next three years. If you are here because you proved sloppy enough in your former position in a upper Station to have it taken from you, be warned that failure in the midterm test means a one-way ticket to a Breeding Farm, from which you may (or may not) come out after giving the New State a number of healthy children from stallions chosen by the farm owner. In both cases, you are strongly advised to take this instruction seriously and not flunk the midterm.

3. The dress code during the course will be nudity in class and in all field training. You will begin feeling the freedom that the absence of clothing allows for and wish for it, rather for than pretty or restrictive clothes.

4. You may expect, and some may even enjoy, the domination of the teachers. They will help you to learn how to submit to every order, even when barely whispered. You will feel your whole self learning to pay very close attention, or face the consequences of not listening.

5. After the first week there will be no speaking during class or in outside training. This is meant to make listening easier and more enjoyable. You will wear a regulation halter headstall and mouth bit to enforce this aspect of your instruction and will learn to enjoy it, in spite of the drool that will moisten your chin.

6. If you pass your midterm, a pill will be implanted in your body to avoid pregnancy for three years. A side effect of the pill will be strong sexual feelings from the faintest touch, making your desire to please and be touched very intense. As a ponygirl, you are allowed to have sex, and you will find that due to the pill it can be extremely pleasant - when available, which may not always be the case. So you are advised to consider everything before signing this paper.

If you sign below, THE NEW STATE welcomes you to your new life. We are happy to offer you this unique opportunity. If you prefer not to sign, however, you don't need to. In this case, according to your personal status, either you will return to your former job or report directly to the Breeding Office, where arrangements will be made concerning your future.

I, ______________________ (fill in your name),agree to continue in this class for PONYGIRL INSTRUCTION. I agree to the pill implant and to the dress code. I will make every effort to learn how to submit as a ponygirl and accept the consequences if I fail.

Signed: ______________________

13 Rose, Year 57 of the New Era

"What do you think of this, Sabel?" Robin asked, folding her copy of the instructions. The course would continue that day at nine, and the three girls were finishing their breakfast. They were understandably nervous, as Miss Cathy had said that at the beginning of the second class they would be required to turn in the signed forms or leave the course.

"It is kind of tough, but anything is better than scrubbing those floors day after day."

"I don't know", Charra said. "It says here that we have to be naked most of the time. Not speaking during class is all right with me, but what do they mean by "being bound and disciplined to help you learn better?"

Robin sipped from her cup of coffee.

"I don't mind going nude. Last summer I was sent to that beach to pick waste from the sand, and the bikini they gave me was practically transparent. I got used to it and after the first days was enjoying it."

"Yes, but what about being disciplined if that woman decides that you are not learning well?"

The mulatto girl shrugged.

"Don't tell me that you prefer the stink of the garbage to a few slaps on your ass."

Charra looked at Sabel.

"What about you?"

"Of course I will sign. I can't stand any more to be on my knees all day long scrubbing sanitary vases and mopping floors. And when you finish the eleven bathrooms, you go back to the first one and start again. What worries me is that pill implant. I have never heard of this."

"Neither have I", Charra said. "There are so many things that we in Sixth Station don't know about."

"I actually liked what they say here", Robin said in a dreamy voice, pointing to the section about increased sexual sensitivity. "It must be fun responding to the slightest touch. I don't intend to get pregnant in the next few years – not after that abortion I had to make."

Sabel looked at the clock on the wall of the cafeteria. It was twenty past eight and they had to walk fifteen blocks to the classroom.

"It's getting late and we had had better decide what to do. I will sign up."

She took out a pen, wrote her name in the empty space at the bottom of the form and signed it. Robin imitated her; Charra bit her lower lip and looked at the anklet on her left foot. That was her chance to leave the garbage plant for a more interesting life. She borrowed Sabel's pen and hastily scribbled her signature on the appropriate line.

"I hope we are doing the right thing", she sighed.

"We are", Sabel encouraged her. "Who knows, you could end up pulling around a First Station Lady!"

***

All the girls had already taken their places when Miss Cathy entered the classroom. She was wearing the same black bikini bottom and vest; her blonde ponytail swished behind her neck as she walked to the desk and sat on its edge.

Sabel felt again that mysterious smile pulling her eyes to the teacher. She caught herself looking at her boots. Would she one day have such a flashy footwear? She lifted her eyes as the lady clapped the crop on her hand.

Cathy noticed some empty seats and quickly counted her herd: thirty-seven – three Sixth Station girls had quit. She had expected some of the candidates to leave after being informed of the conditions of the course. So much the worse for them. Ponygirl training was a serious affair. It was preferable to work only with those motivated, or they would give their future owners trouble instead of satisfaction. A broad grin illuminated her face as she saw Sabel sitting on the front row. Her intuition had not failed: a few more weeks and that beautiful descendant of the Africans once brought to Auronia would be harnessed to her sulky...

"Sabel? Bring your paper here and give it to me."

The girl moved up to the desk and presented the signed form to the teacher. Miss Cathy did not touch it; instead, she looked sternly into Sabel's eyes. The ebony felt her face becoming hot under those glazing eyes and lowered hers.

"Why are holding it upside down? I can't read it."

The tip of the crop brushed gently Sabel's bare thigh just below her shorts' hem, making a shiver go down her spine.

"This lady is really tough", she thought, and said aloud:

"I am sorry, Miss Cathy."

The teacher smiled. A pony had to show respect for her owner and learn that he or she had to be addressed properly, while she would be always called by her first name. Sabel seemed to have understood that from the very beginning, and that was a good sign.

"May I sit down?" the student asked, while the blonde lady looked closely at the paper. The signature was written with a somewhat hesitant hand and the final "L" was almost the same size as the "E". "Not much schooled", Cathy thought, "and from the way she writes her own name one would guess that she is not very assertive."

"Are you tired, Sabel?"

"No, Miss Cathy", was the embarrassed reply.

"Take off your top."

Sabel remembered the item about the dress code and removed her white top, revealing a pair of finely shaped breasts.

"Who sent you to this class?"

"I saw an announcement and applied, Miss Cathy. I am fed up with my present job."

"Hmm. This explains so much, doesn't it? You seem to know very little about submissiveness. Ponygirlsneverask questions." She lifted her eyes to the class. "Can a real ponygirl ask questions? Of course not!"

The class was paying the closest attention to that dialogue. One would hear a fly moving its wings if there were any in the room.

"I am sorry, Miss Cathy. I didn't know about that."

"You will be my example when I need. Do you understand, Sabel?"

"Yes, Miss Cathy."

The teacher took the form and slipped it into a folder with the girl's name on it.

"You may return to you seat now."

Cathy felt a quiver at the sight of that nice butt moving in front of her and imagined how those long dark legs would look with a tail swishing between them. She sighed and looked out at the rest of the class.

"Are you sure you have no problems signing for this course? If you have any questions, I can answer them now. You will learn things you have never thought of, so please ask before you pass your signed forms to the front."

The faces before her showed some nervousness. Of course all the students had seen hundreds of ponygirls trotting around, but knew nothing about the process of becoming one. Only the prospect of leaving their dull jobs had made them sign those forms. To soothe a bit their anxiety was therefore a wise move.

Sabel raised her hand.

"Yes, Sabel?"

"About that pill, Miss Cathy. I have never heard of that."

"Well, it has been used for years. In the old times it was distributed to women whom the men wanted just for sex. It is mandatory now for whoever wants to become a ponygirl."

Sabel sighed. "My God", she thought. "If I already flare up so easily without the pill, what will I feel once it is inside me..." Cathy went on:

"The slightest brush on your skin will make you shiver when it is implanted. A sharp smack on your bottom will bring forward a tiny gush."

There was some embarrassed laughter from the back rows. Robin looked at Charra and winked. Cathy's sharp eye caught the wink and she took a mental note to use the pretty brown girl as an example when the time came for demonstrating the effects of touching on someone who had had the pill implanted. She frowned and the laughter ceased.

Jenny raised her hand and asked in her thin voice:

"What is that about drool, Miss Cathy? It was written on the form."

"I am glad that you DID read it before signing. Come here, Jenny."

The pale girl moved up to the desk, and Sabel noticed that she wore no anklet.

"Give me your form and remove your blouse."

While Jenny was pulling out her sleeveless turtleneck, Cathy took a bit out of the drawer. The class watched in silence, wondering what that was for.

"Turn to face the class. Did you know that sexual teasing makes your mouth water?"

Before Jenny could reply, the teacher slipped the bit into her mouth and buckled it behind her head. Jenny was completely astonished, and so were the rest of the girls. Standing behind her, Cathy brushed very slowly the crop on her nipples, like it were the arch of a violin. Jenny's face turned red as a tomato: her little buttons had hardened with the caress, and she was quite ashamed of showing in public how aroused she was. Cathy laid her crop on the desk, reached around the girl and punched snugly both her nipples. Jenny moaned a bit; a thin drool appeared at the side of her mouth and went down her chin.

Sabel quivered as she tried to figure what would happen if the teacher did the same thing to her. She glanced at her classmates: seven or eight of them looked very frightened. "These must be the upper station girls", she thought. "I hope that they pass their exam and don't end up in a Breeding Farm!"

The other students were a good sample of the bottom end of the Auronian social scale. About half were dark-skinned like Sabel. Seven were Asians; the others were clearly daughters of immigrants who had come to Auronia searching relief from the famine that ravaged the neighboring countries, and who carved out their existence in the cleaning services of the capital. How would their nipples react to the leather, Sabel wondered? Surely hers and Robin's would pop up like mushrooms if Miss Cathy's crop ever touched them.

She glanced at Miss Cathy, who was showing the class her finger. It was wet with the drool from Jenny's lower lip.

"Come here, Sabel, and tease Jenny's nipples. I have to go on with the forms."

Jenny's little berries were sticking out nicely from their areolas. Sabel felt her jerking slightly as she fondled them with the tips of her fingers.

"Robin, what a pretty name! Give me your form."

Robin did so, a bit embarrassed. Was the teacher going to rub her nipples as well?

"Why have you changed the date, Robin? You started yesterday, not today."

Miss Cathy looked sternly at the mulatto girl's oval face. Robin's hair was done in an elaborate Afro pattern and her round earnings touched the desk as she bent down to write the correct date.

"I am sorry, Miss Cathy."

"Take out your top and bend down."

Robin's face contorted into a grimace as the crop hit her bum. Luckily for her, she had her shorts on. Sabel closed her eyes, wondering if she had really done well to sign that form. There was some drool on Jenny's breast; Sabel had stopped fondling her nipples to watch her friend's punishment. She felt the teacher's steel-blue eyes on her and hastened to resume her task.

Robin went to her seat and Charra was called. To remove her top, she laid her form on the desk.

"Why is your form on the desk, Charra? I told you to give it in my hand."

Suddenly angry, Cathy took the paper so that the girl was unable to take it back. Charra looked at her, scared: the teacher had grabbed her top and was crumpling it.

"You MUST learn to listen! Bend now, please!"

"Yes, Miss Cathy", Charra said almost inaudibly and touched her ankles, showing her round rear to the class. The crop smacked each of her bottom cheeks.

"To your seat, Charra, and next time remember to do exactly as you are told."

Finally all the forms were turned in and the whole class was sitting topless. Miss Cathy's gaze wandered over the thirty-seven pairs of breasts heaving up and down. Phase One was over.

"Let's talk about ponygirls now", she said, slipping onto the desk and sitting on it. Her perfectly polished boots flashed as she crossed her legs. "How many of you have ever talked to a ponygirl, or have friends who have been selected for this job?"

Complete silence.

"Ponygirls exist in many countries. Here in Auronia they belong to the Fifth Station, as you know, and are very important in our social and economic system. As in any other Station, good service is rewarded by consideration from others and by pride in having done well what you have to do. The difference from other types of work in the same Station is that ponies, both male and female, are considered property of the person or company they are entrusted to, and can be transferred to other owners. Also, ponies serve in this capacity for life. If a ponygirl is evil and lazy, and proves unworthy of her bit, she can be downstationed and become a Breeder."

There was a general hubbub in the class. Miss Cathy waved her crop and the rumor stopped instantly: nobody wanted that leather-covered thing smacking her butt.

"I see that you are concerned about the way I refer to the people you will work for – I used the word "owners". But this is the standard way to call them. A pony is notemployedby someone – he or she isownedby someone. Because they can use only their bodies to be useful for the nation, and need someone using their brains to command them."