Sabel Ch. 04-06

Shorts and tops were removed, sandals were untied, and the students rushed to comply with the lady's command. She waited until all the girls had tucked their garments and bags into the small holes; a broad smile appeared on her face as she noticed that they were standing beside their seats, waiting for her order to sit down. The girls were still a bit ashamed to be naked, but that was expected and Cathy made no comment about it.

"Today you will be fitted to your harness and receive your mouth bit."

There were mummers of curiosity as she turned to the blackboard, wrote in capital letters the word BIT and underlined it. Her bottom wiggled from the fast writing and her blonde ponytail swished over her shoulders. Sabel eyed Jenny, the only girl who had tasted a bit so far. The pale ex-Third Station looked uneasy. Although the ebony could not know that, Jenny was quite scared with what she had seen in the first days of the course.

Cathy turned quickly and caught Sabel's eyes glued to her bottom. The girl lowered them, embarrassed at being caught staring, and feigned to be looking at the teacher's high, shining boots.

"Now, little ponies, follow me in single file, and walk as I will show you."

A very light sound of bare feet against the wooden planks reached the teacher's ears as the future ponies crossed the hall, imitating her. Miss Cathy was not exactly walking: her gait was a kind of marching, with knees going up at each step. She was slightly bent forward because hips were tipped and her tushie pushed out in back, while she kept her upper body very straight and proud. Her heels didn't touch ground; what supported her weight were the pads of her feet as she moved swiftly down the hall into the back yard.

"I want you to make four lines, facing each other. Hmm – we have an uneven number of students, right? Sabel, come here. You will be my partner."

Cathy giggled at the mummers while the girls separated into lines. "They are realizing who my favorite is", she thought, and raised her brows. The mummers ceased at once.

Robin eyed Sabel a bit crossly. She was burning to know what had taken place the previous day, when Miss Cathy had kept her colleague so long after class that she and Charra had given up waiting and had gone home. And now the blonde lady was singling her out again!

"Sabel, pass out these pads and pencils and come back to distribute the measuring tapes. One for each pair." She went on while the ebony carried out her command:

"You will write your name on your sheet of paper. The lines on it are for your measurements. Each girl will be measured by her partner and write down the figures on her sheet. Do it carefully, because the information will be used to make your personal harness."

She pointed to a big chart on one of the walls, showing a ponygirl with her outfit on. The girls looked at it: of course they had seen many ponygirls before, but had never paid special attention to all those straps on their bodies.

Cathy touched the silver clasp holding her vest.

"Your front ring will be where my clasp is. Measure under your breasts for the chest strap. Take a deep breath before you do that, because if it is too tight you will not be able to breathe when it is in place."

While the girls were busy with the measuring tapes, pencils and pads, Cathy leaned and reached around Sabel. Their faces were so close that it was easy for her to peck the ebony's lower lip with a soft kiss. Sabel shuddered and inhaled deeply, making her pert tits stick out. The teacher pulled the tape snugly and said: "Thirty inches." Her nail dragged along the velvety black skin down the ribcage, and she giggled as Sabel jerked back.

"Finished with that? Let's go on to the second measure: from where I said your ring will be - right under your breasts - down through your crotch and up to the small of your back. The girl being measured will hold the tape while her partner stretches it. Make sure that it goes between your pussy lips and into your rump cleavage. Do it two or three times to get the right figure."

Robin moaned distinctly as the tape in Charra's hand touched her labia. Having slept late that day, she had had to run to arrive at class on time and therefore skipped the good, strong orgasm she habitually offered to herself every morning before getting out of bed. No wonder that she was feeling horny and a bit irritated. She rubbed the leather strap on her labia, forgetting for a moment where she was.

"Shh, Robin", Charra whispered. "Miss Cathy might notice and punish you!"

But Cathy was occupied elsewhere. Sabel felt the blonde lady's delicate fingers drawing the tape between her labia; she closed her eyes as the teacher reached behind her to pull it upward through the cleavage between her buttocks. The cloth had a soft touch; Sabel opened her legs and held her breath.

"The point on your back is for your back ring", Cathy shouted as Sabel wrote down that measure.

"Third one now, little ponies! Put the tape on the point in front and pass it over your shoulder all the way where the back ring will be. The harness is veed in front and goes all way down to the back ring. Look at the chart and you will understand."

The girls took their measures with the utmost care and wrote them on their sheets.

The last two measures were waist and hips. The waist belt would be provided with rings in front, on back and on the sides. Each had a function: the side rings could be linked to the wrists' cuffs, the back ones would keep in place the straps coming from the front and over the shoulders, while the one in front would come in handy to hitch the pony to a pole if her owner wanted to. The hip strap was usually linked to the cart shafts, so that the girl could pull the vehicle with her whole body. Sometimes she would do it differently, having her wrists chained to the handles and holding them with her hands, but that required strong muscles and was used most in short-distance sprinting competitions.

"Finished? Good. Sabel, get the sheets and give them to Mr. Anderson."

Mr. Anderson was the chief of the harness makers, who belonged in the Fourth Station and knew how to cut leather and to fit the buckles and rings. That would take some time, and Cathy didn't want her students to be idle while the craftsmen prepared their harnesses. She whispered something in his ear and the man nodded.

"Kneel down, everyone. Put your nose to the ground and pull your hair up over your head."

Mr. Anderson came back, holding a box in his hands, and stood at the teacher's side. Cathy giggled at the long row of bare bottoms and necks in front of her. Picking a collar from the box, she slid it under Chi Ling's throat and buckled it on the back. The Chinese was given a light swat on the left rump, where her identification would be tattooed if she passed her midterm exam, and the teacher proceeded to the next girl.

The steel felt cold against the skin of Charra's neck; she thought of touching the collar to check if it had some kind of leather covering on the outer part, but remembered what Miss Cathy had said in the previous class – "stay in the position you are until you are told otherwise"- and kept still. A wide smile illuminated the teacher's pretty face at the sight of so many future mares with their butts obediently raised and their faces hidden under their hair. Desiree, Robin, Jenny, Karen - Cathy tried to guess from the exposed bottoms who its owner was while she walked along the bowing bodies to accomplish that most agreeable task.

Sabel was the last on the line. Even folded, her legs were the longest Cathy had ever seen on a would-be pony. "Perfect for a running competition", Cathy said to herself, taking a long glance at the round haunches and remembering how pleasant it had been to ride them. She straddled the ebony, leaned down and fastened the collar on her neck. Sabel felt the teacher's warm thighs hugging her sides and had to muster all her self-control to stay motionless as the lady reached back and tickled the sensitive area under the arch of her foot. Then she heard a distinct click: Cathy had produced a tiny padlock from her vest pocket and clasped it on the buckle of her collar.

"You are mine now, pretty Sabel, for as long as I choose to own you", she whispered into the girl's ear.

Sabel felt a shiver going up her spine. She was going to be that fine lady's private ponygirl! Only the midterm exam stood in her way – and this time she would not fail, she said fervently to herself. To pass it she would be required to run and pull and obey commands, not to solve problems of multiplication or to arrange words in alphabetical order, both things that had defeated her in the tests to become a secretary.

The gentle slap on her left buttock sent a wave of pleasure through her body. Cathy cupped her choice's breasts and pinched lightly her nipples, thinking how nice the little bells would show on them. Her wish was to stay there for the next two hours and tease that African jewel until she begged for release - but she had a class to give... She sighed – there would be many occasions to do that in the next few years.

Cathy rose up. A worker had come with another basket, and she knew what its contents were.

"Everyone! Stand up now. You will get your bits."

Each bit was made of a kind of strong rosewood that could stand years of chewing. It was padded with a material made from a local plant to taste better and also to make it impermeable, as the pony would produce lots of saliva while it was between her teeth. Large steel rings were fixed to its ends and it was provided with straps to be buckled behind the pony's head and under her chin, all very simple and practical.

"Put your hands behind your back and open your mouth to the widest."

The tiny wooden bar was deftly slipped between Sabel's teeth and the straps buckled behind her head. Cathy arranged the bushy mane in such a way that it concealed both buckle and lock and stepped back: collared and with the corners of her lips drawn a little back, showing her glaring white teeth, the ebony was delightful to look at. Cathy could almost see a rectangular little plate under the steel band, with the words Property of C. Magnusson engraved.

Sabel moved her tongue over the bit and tried to bring her lips together, but this was impossible. The bit was so snug that there was no loose play at all. She wanted to say how much she was glad, but all that came out of her mouth hundred were undistinguishable grunts. She looked alarmed at the teacher:

"My pretty black pony, don't try to speak. It is not necessary", Cathy said, caressing with the back of her hand Sabel's silky cheek and adjusting another strap under her chin.

Sabel made a funny wiggle with her hips to show what she was feeling and stayed on her place as the teacher moved on to the next girl.

The fitting of all the bits took some time, but finally everybody had gotten one. As the workers were still busy preparing the harnesses, Cathy decided to begin a short workout. She called a worker and asked him to bring her forty pieces of rope about two feet long. Turning to the girls, she said aloud:

"Stay in line now, about four feet from the girl in front of you. Sabel, you first."

Cathy started at the end of the line and hooked the ends of the short ropes onto the O-shaped-rings on the ends of each girl's bit. When she reached Sabel, all the ponies were linked to each other.

Cathy flicked the tip of her crop on the shoulder of the girl behind Sabel.

"Step a bit forward, Chi Ling. Yes, like this – I want the rope to be loose between you and Sabel."

Chi Ling obeyed. Desiree was behind her and stepped forward before the trainer had told her to. A hearty slap on her tush, and her eyes opened wide in surprise:

"Did I tell you to move, Desiree? You are to stay still until told otherwise, always!"

"Ye…, …iss .. athy", the Haitian mumbled." I...m ...orry."

The crop touched Desiree's shoulder.

"Shut up! And remember – it's your owner who tells you when to move! Now everyone – make a step forward and cross your hands behind your back."

The girls did as they were told. When everybody was ready, the teacher said:

"I want you to get used to walking on tip-toe. Be careful not to touch ground with your heels and lift your knees to waist level. Now you may begin! Off you go!"

Sabel raised her knee and set off, followed by the whole batch. She was careful not to pull on she rope, knowing that if she did so she would hurt Chi Ling's mouth. Soon all the line was moving to the beat of the teacher's hands clapping against each other. Cathy watched closely the hooked ponies, flicking her crop at the bottom of those who did anything faulty.

After a few turns of the yard, she called for a ten-minute break. The girls were relieved to be allowed to stand normally on their feet.

"You may sit down, but be careful because of the rope."

The thirty-seven girls managed to sit down and leaned against the wall to rest. Cathy licked discreetly her lips at the sight of so many exposed pussies, knowing that soon they would be wet from the contact with the crotch strap.

The teacher let her eyes wander over the class. The interviewers had done a good job selecting those girls: all had a healthy body, a pretty face, and good muscles in calves and arms. It was her responsibility to turn those floor-scrubbers and street-sweepers into good mares. Part of her job was to get them to accept as natural the domination they would be subjected to for the rest of their lives. Behind the bars of their stalls, between the shafts of a cart or tied to a waiting pole, most of the time their movements would be restrained in a way or another - and the rope that tied them together like a herd of goats was a good means to make them understand that without having to say it in so many words.

"Some of these pretty creatures will inevitably flunk the midterm exam", Cathy said to herself. Her rate of failures was very low, but in every class some students always failed to meet her severe standards. Those wearing anklets had nothing to fear, except being sent back to their scrubbing or to the malodorous garbage-processing plants. Jenny, Karen and a few others from the upper Stations were in a much more delicate position: if they ever reached a Breeding Farm, they would join the thirty thousand Breeders of Auronia. Okay, Breeders were as important to the New State as her grandmother, the Head of the Council – but it certainly was not agreeable to spend the best years of one's life in successive pregnancies.

Mr. Anderson appeared on the door of the shed facing the yard.

"The harnesses are ready, Miss Cathy."

"Very good. Tell your men to come and fit them on my new ponies. Girls, stand up!"

It was easily done. First came the horizontal straps; the first under the girl's breasts, another around her the waist and the last circling her hips. Next a long strap was hitched to the front ring and pulled down through the girl's slit and butt cleavage up to the small of her back, where it was tied to the appropriate ring. The last to be placed were the V straps over the shoulders.

Sabel shuddered: the leather felt rough on her skin because of the newly cut edges, but Miss Cathy told her that after some use it would become smoother. The waist and hip belts were padded underneath and felt quite agreeable on the body. Sabel feet her pussy itching a bit as the vertical strap pressed against it, and put her hand on it to make it looser. An angry Miss Cathy stopped her with her crop:

"Sabel, Sabel! Don't make me punish you as I did with Karen! Never undo what your owner has done!"

The ebony shivered at the reminder, lowered her eyes and put her hands behind her back. On the other hand, it was reassuring to hear the blonde lady calling herself "her owner" – she could not upset her!

"I'm ... orry ... iss Ca...y."

The granddaughter of Charissa Magnusson stepped back to admire her newly harnessed pony.

"You look splendid, Sabel. Someone ought to make a drawing of you."

All the girls were ready now. Cathy strolled along the line, touching here and there to make sure that everything was in order. She had chosen colors matching each girl's skin: Desiree, who was as dark as a moonless night, had received a pink one, Robin a warm hue of black that stressed nicely her brown color, Charra a red ensemble that went very well with the bronze of her skin, the blonde girls a bright tone of blue. Sabel's outfit was dark green, with the edges in a lighter shade of the same color. Contrasting with the shining steel rings on her chest and on the sides of her bit, it made her look very pretty.

"Very well, girls! Now we will train the standard pony gait. Lift your knees up to your waist and walk using your toes and footpad. Hands behind! On my beat – one, two, one, two!"

As the ponies began to walk and felt their straps bushing between their labia, several stopped, making the line break down into a mess.

"Don't stop! Keep walking!"

The teacher had grabbed a long whip and cracked it loudly on the cement of the yard ground. Even with a light discomfort, the girls managed to keep their hands crossed behind their bodies and walk as the teacher had commanded. Sabel was leading the line; the constant rubbing of the leather between her labia was making them damp, but she soon got used to that sensation and raised beautifully her knees to her waistline. Cathy checked each girl for step height, looking out for laziness and occasionally slapping a bottom with her whip.

Suddenly Jenny, who was feeling very disturbed with all that, stopped and tried to undo her bit, making the girl in front of her scream as she small wooden rod tore at the corners of her mouth. Karen, who was just behind her, gave a knock on her back with her knee. The whole line turned wrong and leaned to see what was going on.

Cathy's nostrils flared. She was very angry, but controlled herself and snapped her fingers. Mr. Anderson rushed to the rebellious pony and quickly cuffed her hands behind her back. Jenny was so scared that she didn't protest – what would that cost her?

"Get in line again, all of you! March in place!"

Bare feet thumped on the cement to the pace set by Cathy's crop clapping on her hand.

"Knees up! And don't touch ground with those heels!"

Sabel felt the front strap curving out as she lifted her legs to a ninety-degree angle. Cathy walked along the roped ponies and stopped at Jenny's side. The pale girl's eyes showed how nervous she was; the teacher just flicked the whip on her bottom and went on with her inspection. She noticed that the black girls had an easier time with the exercise and wondered if that was because of their natural flexibility.

"Faster!"

The girl's bodies were warming up with the swift movements. Sabel's calves and thighs started to ache: she was accustomed to jog, but not that way, without being allowed using her heels to rest her weight on. She heard the teacher saying:

"Two pony commands now: "giddup!" means accelerate, and "whoa!" means stop. Now GIDDUP!"

The girls sped up. Cathy giggled: almost everybody had assimilated the basic pony gait, their knees were being correctly raised and their heads were tossed back. She knew from previous courses that it took some time for a new pony to get used to the bit and to the sensation of arousal between her legs, so the next lessons would have to include numerous repetitions of that exercise. But for a first time this class was doing quite well.

"Trotting now! And take care not to lag behind, or the rope will make the bit hurt you! I want the rope loose between each of you and the next pony, understood? Sabel, lead!"