Ponification: The Making of A Pony Girl
PONIFICATION: THE MAKING OF A PONYGIRL
It began as did so many previous days. I went about my chores as a maid, cleaning and dusting and generally putting my Mistress’s house in order. I worked steadily and as fast as I could, fearing my Mistress’s displeasure if I was too slow or imperfect in the execution of my duties. Fear of such “displeasure” and the attendant punishments would keep my tummy roiling and burning all day long. After making the beds, I went downstairs to ask my Mistress if she had any additional or special assignments for me today.
“I do have something special for you today,” my Mistress said. “Follow me.”
I followed her into the basement, where she kept most of her “toys”, the bondage gear that was too large to keep upstairs should a more vanilla visitor come to my Mistress’s home and possibly be upset. Going down there held little portent to me as I had to visit the cellar several times each day in performance of my chores.
Mistress stopped in the middle of the room and turned to me. I was expecting to receive orders, but instead Mistress’s had shot out of her pocket like a cobra and touched my shoulder. Before I could move or say anything my body was smashed to the ground by the electrical assault of a stun gun! I dropped heavily to the padded, soundproofed floor, unable to stop twitching or to even think straight.
Mistress dragged my useless body over to a table, lifted me onto it with surprising strength and proceeded to strap me to it using the cuffs attached to it’s perimeter. As I slowly regained the use of my limbs, Mistress took some scissors and began to cut off my maid’s uniform. “Just be silent, Little One. What is about to happen to you will relieve you of all of your worldly worries and pressures,” she crooned in my ear.
After I was completely naked Mistress went to the far side of the room and rolled over a cart piled high with an eclectic array of objects, some familiar, others hidden in the pile or unknown to me.
“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” she ordered in her usual commanding voice. I had been tongue clamped before and obeyed instantly, not wishing to provoke her ire. She gripped my tongue in a clamp and pulled on the clamp, stretching my tongue to the point of pain. And just as suddenly as she had used the stun gun on me, she plunged a thick needle through the center of my tongue! I shrieked in pain, trying to retract my bleeding organ in vain as she pressed a thick post through the newly placed hole, put super glue into the single threaded hole of two largish steel balls, and screwed the balls onto the threaded ends of the thick post through my tongue, locking the post in place! “You will wear that for the remainder of your life,” she said as she released my throbbing organ and I pulled it into my mouth, tasting the blood and the huge steel fixture for the very first time.
“Bu why Mithtweth?” I screamed as bolts of pain shot through my tongue and tears rolled down my cheeks. I screamed again as I realized that the huge steel fitting in my mouth made my speech almost indecipherable! “Mithweth!!!!! I cank tak!!!!”
“Don’t worry, Little One. I will take care of that awful lisping soon,” she said ominously. “But first I have other things to do.” With that she took a second clamp from the cart and clamped my right nipple! I knew what was going to happen next and screamed again, wiggling desperately to free myself to avoid more pain, but the straps held me fast. Without a word Mistress plunged another needle through my nipple, left to right, and I nearly passed out in shock and pain, my own screams barely able to keep me conscious.
Mistress took a two inch ring with an appropriate sized bell attached to it and held it before my tear filled eyes. “This is so I can always hear where you are,” she said happily. Mistress then bent over and forced the ring through my new nipple piercing and I felt more than heard a heavy snap as the ends of the ring mated, sealing the bell to my breast. I began banging my head against the table in pain and terror, but Mistress merely pulled a strap over my forehead and attached it to the table, immobilized me further.
The second bell quickly joined the first, decorating my left nipple while I thrashed ineffectively in my bonds. “Pweth Mithtweth!!,” I wailed. “No mow pierthingth!”
Mistress didn’t even look at me, ignoring me totally as she pulled a heavy boot from the cart. “You will love these,” she said as she held up the rigid boot before my face. It was only then that I realized what was happening to me. At the end of the boot, where the sole should have been, was a small silver horse shoe! She wanted me to be a pony!!!
Mistress took the outlandish footwear to the far end of the table and carefully worked my foot into the stiff lower part of the boot. She had to work at is as the boot felt at least two sized too small and my foot screamed as she jammed it in and my arch was bent in a highly unusual manner. I had been forced to wear monstrously high heels since I came into Mistress’s service, but they felt nothing like this! “Ah! I see by your eyes that you are wondering about your new footwear. I had these specially made for you. It is a rather unique shoe. As you saw, it is a pony boot. But with this design, your foot is held “en pointe” inside it. It is actually a reinforced ballet boot that has a pony hoof attached at the bottom instead of the two tiny soles and heels! I am SO proud of my invention and you should feel honored as the first to try it!“
My eyes, just about the only part of me that could still move, rolled back into my head as I tried to imagine how difficult and painful it was going to be trying to walk in these boots. Once my foot was imbedded in the boot, I felt a click at my heel. I then felt Mistress releasing my ankle cuff on that leg and I tensed up, planning to show Mistress a new use for the horrid pony boot. But as I tried to lash out, hoping to catch her by surprise with a heavy kick, nothing happened! My foot was still tightly secured to the table! "Yes, Little One, these boots have all sorts of applications. You will discover them as I need them,” she said.
After pulling the boot up nearly to my crotch I again heard and felt a familiar sound, that of locks clicking closed. Mistress reached over to the cart and picked up what looked like a hypodermic needle and held it before my eyes. I thrashed harder but relaxed when she said, “Oh, don’t fret. It’s not drugs. This is filled with quick set epoxy. I’m just going to give a little squirt into each lock so that you will never be able to get the boots off, even if a key existed!” Mistress gave a small squirt from the epoxy filled hypodermic into each boot lock then made short work of installing my leg into the other boot, leaving both boots locked to the table………and onto me.
“One last piece,” she said as she lifted a bundle of straps from the cart and came to my face untangling them. She released the strap over my forehead and, placing one hand behind my head and lifting it gently she began to spread the straps over my skull, buckling each tightly and placing a small padlock through each buckle in turn. “Open,” she said, placing the heavy bit of what I now recognized as a horse halter to my lips. I did as I was bid and she swung the bit between my trembling parted lips and locked it into place. And, of course, she cemented each key hole of the halter permanently closed with the epoxy.
While I trembled trying to foresee my future, I next felt her doing something in my mouth! Three seconds later I felt and heard a heavy click inside my mouth and when she removed her fingers, I could no longer move my tongue! “See what I meant about fixing that horrible lisp? Your tongue is now permanently locked to the bit. You will never again utter an intelligible word. So no lisp!” I screamed again and tried to plead with her, but all that came out of my mouth was gibberish. I again thrashed in my bonds ineffectively, my senses swooning but, as I did so, I heard and felt the buckles and locks of “my” halter clank against the table and I closed my eyes and died a bit inside.
Next, Mistress rummaged about on the cart and retrieved two hard shells, each the size of a softball. “These will make your hands useless, as ponies have no hands,” she said as she slipped one of my still cuffed hands into the shell, then locked it and epoxied the lock. My fingers were curled into a tight ball within the shell and I knew I would never see them again. The procedure was repeated with my other hand.
As my head spun in circles, Mistress locked two steel cuffs to my arms, just above my elbows. And immediately epoxied the locks, sealing them forever.
Mistress attached a chain to my halter at the bit ring and threaded the other end of the chain through a ring at the foot of the table. She then passed another strap from the table around my thighs and locked it. “I’m going to release your arms and sit you up now. And don’t fuss or you will feel what a pony crop feels like much sooner than I intended.”
She first released my head strap and pulled me up and fastened the halter chain at the foot of the table, my cuffed wrists painfully stretched and splayed behind me. She undid the buckle holding one wrist to the table, grabbed my free and now flailing wrist, pulled it hard to the side and fastened a steel cuff around it. She then wrenched that wrist and cuff behind me, attaching the cuff to the upper arm cuff of my opposite arm with yet another lock. She next released my second hand and repeated the procedure, rendering my arms crossed and more than useless behind my back. And, of course, more epoxy in the locks.
“Time to take you to your new quarters.” Mistress said happily. She unthreaded the chain attached to my halter from the ring at the foot of the table and wrapped the chain around her hand a couple of times. Holding my “leash”, she released the strap over my thighs, then the fittings at the heels of my boots and swung my legs off the table. By this time I was too numb to consider any sort of violence or escape. Where would I go? What would I do? With my hands as they were, I couldn’t even use a door knob!
“Now be careful, dear,” she said as she helped me off of the table. “You will need to be vigilant about where you place your feet from now on. These hooves have a much smaller area than your old shoes did, and falling will be easy with your heels so high off of the ground.” I looked down as I placed each of my new “hooves” onto the floor, making certain my ankles were straight. Mistress helped me to stand for the first time as a pony, and my feet and legs screamed in protest at their stringent and unfamiliar position.
“Agrugsht odch ea,” I choked out and, hearing my pleas for mercy reduced to gibberish, stamped my foot in frustration. A loud ‘CRACK!“ reverberated of the walls as my steel shoe smashed into the concrete floor. And I instantly realized my mistake as new waves of pain shot up my foot and leg.
"Yes, it hurts pony. And I can understand your frustration. But don’t you see how much simpler your life will be now? All you need to do is to lounge around the barn and occasionally entertain me with a training session or a cart ride!” My eyes went wide in horror. “And as you have seen, all of this is quite permanent. So you have nothing at all to fret about and that ulcer you were complaining about will be all better soon.
Mistress glanced back at the cart and exclaimed "Oh! I almost forgot one of the most important parts of your new look!” She turned me to the wall and looped my halter chain over a high hook, pulling my halter up until I thought my new hooves would leave the floor, which might have been a blessing as they hurt terribly. “I don’t want you falling over while I do this,” she whispered.
She went back to the accursed cart and brought back a strange object about the size of a small hen’s egg and held over my upturned eyes. It looked exactly like an unopened silver tulip blossom with a thick steel stem sticking out of the bottom. “This is another new device I invented just for you,” she said merrily, a smile of pride spreading over her face. “Here’s how it works. It looks just like a tulip, so I call it a "Tushie Tulip”! I slip it into your tush and after the blossom pops in, I do this!“ He pushed the thick steel stem upwards towards the "blossom” and the “petals” of the flower opened up just as they do on the device’s namesake flower!
As my eyes opened wide in abject horror at what I was being shown, knowing full well what the next act in this personal drama would be, Mistress continued. “I insert this into you, press on the stem and "Voila!” The flower blooms inside you, sealing itself there! But to keep it in place, as the stem pushes into the flower and opens it, you can see where the holes in the stem line up with those in the central core of the device. And when I put a lock through those holes, the flower is locked open inside you forever, thanks to a drop of epoxy in the key hole. And before you panic about your waste disposal, this,“ she pointed to a short rubber hose that had been exposed in the bottom center of the stem as it had been driven into the blossom "gets attached to an enema bag twice a week to clean you out! It saves SO much work not having to muck out your pony stall!”
Mistress snapped the device closed and disappeared from my elevated view. But I felt her hands lubricating my anus and nearly jumped to the ceiling as she quickly pushed the steel blossom into me and popped it open! While I danced on my clattering steel pony shoes and screamed unintelligible curses she calmly passed a lock through the holes in the device sealed within me and epoxied my butt closed forever.
“Now I promise you this is the final piece”, she said holding up a long, luxurious horse tail. “It threads onto the base of the Tushie Tulip so you have just the right look!” She bent down and attached my new “tail”.
She stood, unhooked my halter chain and my full weigh again smashed my tortured feet into their over tight and compressing boots. “Now come along. And be careful. If you fall you will probably hurt yourself as you can’t ever use your arms again and they won’t be there for you to catch yourself. And you’ll need to figure out how to get back on your hooves by yourself or be dragged along by your halter.”
She turned and began to walk slowly to the stairs. And rather than be toppled over when my leash became taught, I took my first steps in my new boots. They hurt, the floor was scarily slippery and I made a horrible clatter as I struggled behind my Mistress. My hooves clip-clopped loudly on the concrete floor as I moved torturously behind her, the bells suspended from my nipples announce my every movement. As I struggled along, jingling, clopping and trying desperately to remain upright, my eyes again filled with tears I could never again wipe, knowing that this was the first day of the rest of my life………as an animal……
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
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