Tea Biscuit

V

Ethan was roused at dawn and led to the yard outside. He saw Mike and Tyler. Each sported a Pony haircut like his. Each had had his nose and penis pierced and ringed. Unable to speak, they waved their greeting. Today they were real Ponies.

Unexpectedly, Josh appeared. A girl dragged him from the stable by a lead fastened to his nose ring. He fought her step by step. Then he tried to grab the lead with his hands. She jabbed him sharply with that rod-like device the women all seemed to carry. His body seemed to raise clear of the ground and then fall in a heap of twitching arms and legs.

She gave him thirty seconds to recover. Moaning, he rose shakily to his hands and knees. She yanked on his lead. He regained his feet unsteadily and followed her much more docilely.

Ethan, Mike, and Tyler looked at each other. Ethan tried to speak, but his throat burned and no intelligible sound emerged from his mouth. He promised himself to do what he could to avoid the rod.

The days had a certain routine. In the morning, Ethan was taken to the squatter toilets with the other Ponies. He had quickly gotten used to being naked. All the Ponies were naked on the ranch. Attending to his private business in plain sight of the trainers, grooms and exercise girls was a greater test. However, they watched the Ponies and chatted among themselves and no one seemed really to care. Weights were recorded daily and the new Ponies ran for an hour before their morning meal.

Often, several of the exercise girls accompanied them on the more seasoned Ponies. Ethan envied the Ponies their duty. He looked forward to his opportunity to carry a rider.

The Ponies ran for two hour's twice a day and worked on upper body strength for two hours a day. Eating and grooming consumed an hour a day. Seventeen hours a day, Ethan was locked in his stall. The Ponies weren't encouraged to fraternize. Ethan might have been bored or lonely, if he hadn't been constantly on the edge of exhaustion. Ethan, always exhausted from his workout, slept soundly. He saw Mike, Josh, and Tyler around but none of them could speak. Ethan was always hungry and ate the bland but nourishing stable diet heartily.

The Ponies were groomed each night before sleep. The Ponies might have done more for their own grooming, but the trainers felt that the grooming accustomed the sometimes skittish Ponies to being touched by others. The grooms teased and chattered as two grooms worked on two Ponies. At first, Ethan forgot himself and tried to speak. His altered throat was unable to produce an intelligible sound. The grooms found his efforts comical or simply ignored him. Soon he stopped even trying and accommodated himself to his new life.

This part is just like high school, Ethan thought as he rounded the practice yard, but more so. He, Mike, Josh, and Tyler ran in a circle. Meaghan, their trainer stood in the center and watched them run. She monitored their pace. Every minute or so, she blasted her whistle and the Pony trailing the pack raced to the front.

Some parts were quite different than high school. The Ponies were stark naked except for their gear. When Meaghan thought a Pony was slacking, she wielded her lungeing whip with precise accuracy and substantial power. The whip's first bite startled Ethan and he lurched forward out his daydream. He quickly learned to respect the whip and the hand that wielded it.

He had likely been on the ranch a month before a trainer and an exercise girl took him aside. Keeping track of time on the ranch was difficult. No one thought it important for the Ponies to know the day and time. She carried a bridle and saddle. Ethan was happy to hear the command, “Mount!” that Beth had used it so often. He had begun to doubt that he would ever hear it again. He dropped his left knee to the ground. This was why he had chosen to be a Pony.

The exercise girl deftly saddled and bridled him, much as Beth had done. However, she didn't step up on his muscular right thigh and straddle his thick neck. The trainer grasped his bridle in both hands and looked him right in the eye.

“Steady now boy,” she said, “steady.”

The other woman adjusted his bridle slightly and then inserted dowels, first in one ear and then one in the other ear. She secured the rods carefully. The trainer released his bridle and stepped back, hands on hips. The exercise girl grabbed his bridle and stepped up on his right thigh only then. She swung her left leg over Ethan's thick neck and settled herself in the saddle. Once she had planted her feet in the stirrups, she ordered the male, “Up!”

Ethan stood smartly. He had been waiting for this moment for weeks or perhaps for his entire life. Then he felt something different. His rider's heels brushed his flanks. Her heels boasted stubby blunted spurs. Beth had never ridden him with spurs. High school allowed only leather heals. Ethan's enthusiasm was now tinged with a hint of fear.

“G'dy-up!”

Ethan went forward at a walk. He was a spirited, but well-behaved mount. His awareness of the spurs made him even more responsive to his rider's wishes. He felt her spurs and picked up his pace. Running, he felt more comfortable. She touched him with his spurs again and he increased his pace. He maintained a rapid pace with ease.

“Run boy, run!” she urged, hunched over in the saddle. He had done quite well and took pride in his strength.

He felt her warm breath on his neck and heard her soft words of encouragement. Her approval was exhilarating. He ran joyfully. His rider was no burden to his welling strength. Her breath was warm on his neck. Hunched over, her soft breast pressed once or twice against the back of his head. Her perfume filled his head. He knew that he had been born for this!

“Whoa!” she said unexpectedly. He felt a subtle pressure on his reining rods. Drunk with motion and arrogant of his strength, he ignored the command and ran. “Whoa, now!” Still he ran. He was in no mood to stop now.

Abruptly, pain exploded in his head as she pulled firmly on the reining rods resting in is sensitive ear canals. Ethan grimaced and twisted his head trying to relieve the pressure but his rider kept her hands steady on the rods. Frightened and breathless, he came quickly to a stop.

She stroked his face gently. “Just pay attention, big fella, – it doesn't have to be so bad.”

Ethan learned quickly. Carrying a rider, he was alert to the slightest pressure on the rods as well as to the touch of her spurs. He followed direction smartly and basked in sincere and generous praise. He had strength and heart enough for any rider.

One day, the girl who had first greeted him at the infirmary took him out for a ride. “I was looking for you,” she told him as she put on his saddle and tack. “I've brought you a special treat.”

Ethan watched her hand dip into her pocket. After the bland stable diet, anything sweet or spicy was a treat. Her hand emerged with a packet of tea biscuits. “Only one now,” she laughed. He ate it greedily from her hand as she took care to avoid his teeth. She had found them among his things that he left back at the infirmary.

On the trail, he gave her all she asked. He answered her spurs and ran until she was giddy with exhilaration. She was breathless with excitement when she finally brought him back to the stable. He responded smartly to the subtlest pressure on the control rods.

On signal, he knelt so that she might dismount. Kneeling, he was still as tall she. “Thanks for a great ride!” She rubbed his neck fondly. She reached into her pocket and retrieved a second tea biscuit.

“Hey Alyssa, what are you feeding that Pony?” Meaghan asked.

“Tea biscuits.” Alyssa answered.

“Tea biscuits? Well, did he give you a good ride?”

“The best!”

“You know – he needs still needs a name. We've got four new one who need names. Three have their Pony names, Tippecanoe, Iron Mike, and that difficult one, Mister Fletcher. Let's call this guy, Tea Biscuit!”