Sabel Ch. 04-06

"Move forward and form a line on the wall, facing it", Miss Cathy said. As the girls complied, she noticed that most wore thongs like Sabel, while those without anklets on their feet – the Fourth and Third Station girls – had panties that covered more of their skin. And three had no underwear at all. Standing naked against the wall, the three girls – among them Robin – covered their sexes with their hands, but put them on their heads as the teacher ordered the whole class to do so.

Cathy walked along the line, tapping here and there a pair of buttocks as she went on. As she approached Robin, the teacher stopped to admire her. Robin had the high haunches so commonly found in descendants of Africans; Miss Cathy slid her nails from the nape of the girl's neck all the way down to the small of her back, feeling the goosebumps as they appeared on the silky brown skin. Her finger went down the rear crack and slid over the thick outer labia; Robin responded lifting her butt and arching down her back, visibly offering her pussy to be caressed.

Cathy grinned and remembered that this was the girl who had been shocked by her use of the word "animal". This was a good occasion to hammer into her mind that her future status would be exactly that.

"Lift your rump, Robin."

She rested her hand on the mulatto's strong haunch and said loudly so that everybody could hear her:.

"The parts of your body will be called differently when you begin your work as ponygirls. This is called "rump" – she tapped with her fingers on the girl's left cheek – and once you pass the final tests your identification number will be tattooed here."

Robin turned her head, alarmed at that piece of information.

"FACE THE WALL AND LISTEN, you disobedient animal!" Miss Cathy shouted sternly.

Robin's nostrils flared as if she was going to react with indignation, her breasts heaved up and down, but she turned her head to the wall all the same.

"Miss Cathy, may I ask a question?" she whispered.

"Go ahead. But before asking, show me that you can become an obedient animal. Wiggle your rump for me."

Robin gulped. That woman was really tough! She moved her "rump" two or three times, until the teacher tapped it again.

"Enough, Robin. What do you want to know?"

"Why do ponies have to be tattooed?"

"Because when you ascend to the Fifth Station, the identification band is removed from your foot. Suppose that a crazy or evil ponygirl decided to escape from her stall and travel to another city – how would one know that she is a pony and send her back to her owner?"

From her place, Sabel nodded silently. All male ponies in Ms. Stevenson's farm had a registration number tattooed on their butt. Why was Robin making such a fuss of that?

Robin did not answer back: it was useless to discuss with that lady. Miss Cathy recalled that she had decided to use the pretty mulatto to demonstrate the effects of the pill. She knew herself too well to be unduly proud of her ability to evaluate a ponygirl. Which kind of pony was Robin going to be, she asked herself, watching closely the girl as she kept her hands crossed over her head.

"Rump up!" she said curtly.

The muscles were firm under the brown skin: with her body, the girl was most likely to become a delivery animal. But with that degree of sensitivity, reacting to a light touch so promptly even before the pill was administered to her, she was almost certainly an adept of daily masturbation. So much the worse for her, Miss Cathy thought: she was a serious candidate for a chastity belt - no sensible owner would allow her to waste her energy in wanton spasms.

She sighed. That was not her business.

"Take off your thongs and panties, girls. You won't need them anymore."

A blonde girl pulled her panties up instead of removing them. It was Karen, a former Third Station accountant who had almost brought her company to bankruptcy by completely messing up its books. Miss Cathy's reaction was immediate: she began to tap hr hand with the flat of her crop.

"Karen, come at once to my desk. You must learn the basics, oh my God! Never undo something your owner has done! Never, are you listening? Now cross your arms behind your back and lean over the desk."

A trembling Karen complied and received two hard swats on each bottom cheek. Smack, smack, smack, smack – all the class had turned to watch the punishment.

"Karen, the judge who in his mercy recommended you to this course instead of sending you directly to a Breeding Farm wrote that you might be lazy and not pay attention. Is this true?"

"No, Miss Cathy!"

The blonde almost sobbed as she replied, making it sound more like a lie. Miss Cathy swished the crop over her head and hit the desk with all her force.

"Answer me again, and this time truthfully, or you will receive another series of smacks on this rosy bottom!"

Karen knew that the teacher was very angry. It was better to tell her the truth.

"Yes, Miss Cathy! Sometimes I just cannot pay attention, I don't know why!"

The crop hit the blonde's curved back, making a dry sound that sent the whole class almost jumping to their feet.

"Will this help you to pay attention? Answer quickly!"

Karen jerked and tears popped from her blue eyes.

"Yes! Yes! I will listen and learn and do, Miss Cathy! I promise!"

With her chin touching the desk and keeping her arms crossed behind her back, the former Third Station girl waited for the order to stand up. Miss Cathy could feel thirty-six pairs of eyes fixed on her, and that feeling was not displeasing at all. She didn't like to be harsh, but knew from experience that sometimes a strong measure was needed to instill into the candidates the notion that no order, whatever it was, could be ignored – or, worse still, willfully disobeyed. Ponies were not meant to think, but to pull, and to pull as their driver wanted to, not according to their silly ideas.

She turned to the class:

"Sometimes pain comes from a crop. As you cannot not know if your bad behavior upsets your owner to the point that he or she feels that you need to be reminded of this obvious thing, I will give you some sound advice: obey orders and you will not be whipped... at least not often", she completed sarcastically in a lower tone.

"Karen, I hope that you have learned your lesson. Now go to the corner and stay there until this class is over."

Cathy watched the blonde's red tush as she walked to the corner. A pretty one by the way, but which would soon show welts if the blonde didn't mend her ways.

The class was almost over. Miss Cathy recalled mentally her schedule: it was ten a.m., and her meeting with the head of the Pony Department was not due until noon. She glanced at Sabel: the ebony was looking at her boots, her hands still behind her back and her mouth still slightly open.

"It is almost time for the bell, girls. You may put your shorts on again."

Everybody fetched her garments, but as Sabel was bending to grab hers she heard the teacher's voice:

"You stay here, Sabel."

Sabel turned to the teacher.

"Miss Ca..."

The blonde tapped the crop on her open palm, in an unequivocal gesture.

"Yes, Sabel?"

The ebony tried to conceal her embarrassment. Actually, she wished to stay there with Miss Cathy and learn more about being a ponygirl, but she was afraid of showing her feelings. Also, there was a lot of scrubbing and washing waiting for her at the government building - the leave she had been granted was only to attend classes, not to stay idle for the rest of the day. The prospect of staying in the classroom for some extra time was of course much more interesting.

Charra and Robin buttoned their shorts and put on their tops; Robin winked at Charra and whispered something on her ear; Sabel wondered what – Robin's sharp tongue was well known among her friends. She saw them disappearing into the corridor together with the other girls and sighed. What did Miss Cathy have in mind this time?

***

Was it so evident that our teacher had some particular interest in me? As my friends walked out from the classroom, I wondered why she was keeping me after class for the second day in a row. She had been so severe that morning! So it was with some surprise that instead of an irritated tone, I noticed gentleness in her voice as she said:

"Move closer to the desk, honey, and stick out your tongue."

As I obeyed, she caught it with her sharp teeth, taking me entirely by surprise. But she didn't bite hard; instead, she pulled it with her mouth, making me move with her. Nobody had ever bitten my tongue like that, so I didn't know what to do; the simplest was to let go and offer it to her licking. She did so for what seemed to me a long time, sending shivers down my spine, and then released it. I was going to close my mouth, but Miss Cathy said that I should not and began to brush the handle of her crop between my lips and on my tongue, wetting it with my saliva. I had never tasted leather before; now I know that it is a bit rough and salty.

"Keep your tongue out", I heard her saying.

Miss Cathy held my earlobes and kissed sweetly the same spot she had bitten. I didn't know where to put my hands, so I crossed them behind my back and let her do as she wanted. Her breath was on my upper lip; suddenly she let one of my ears loose and grabbed her crop.

"Eyes closed now, Sabel", she said softly, and I shut them. I felt the handle slipping between my thighs; I knew it was the handle because it is thicker and smoother than the tip. It is incredible how you begin to pay attention to the surface of the things that touch you when you cannot see them. Miss Cathy moved the crop very slowly, making me feel every inch of the handle; she pressed it upwards and I parted my legs. The gentle rubbing on my slit was so arousing that I became wet almost instantly. Of course I know how it feels when a cock is rubbed on my labia, and the sensation is completely different – the crop is much harder, and leather has its own peculiar touch.

I began to rock my body, trying to place my clitty in a position where it could brush on the handle, but it was difficult to do so with it moving. I think that Miss Cathy sensed that, because she stopped her motions and let me rub myself on the rod. I moaned softly – the sensation was so good! I rocked faster and was beginning to feel that tension that precedes an orgasm when she said:

"Enough, Sabel. Lean on the desk, but keep your legs straight and curve your back."

I obeyed and she explained that this position was called a "tush push". She slid again the crop between my labia and teased the very middle of my sex, while her other hand cupped my right breast. I felt my skin getting hotter and hotter with every movement; she was so expert with that crop, making me feel things I had never felt before!

"Are you liking to be in my class, Sabel?"

"Oh yes, Miss Cathy!" Of course I was...

She leaned over me and I felt her weight on the curve of my back. Her bikini was not made of leather, but of a soft kind of material imitating it, as and its touch was different from the crop. I could feel both the bottom and the small vest on different parts of my back. Her thighs pressed on my sides like she was riding me, and I felt her tongue lapping the base of my neck. With one hand she kept moving the crop between my thighs, while her other hand moved down to my bottom, pinching slightly, tapping here and there, varying her touches in such a manner that I never knew what would come next.

I was feeling very confused. On the one hand, all that was so sweet and arousing, and my body responded instantly to everything Miss Cathy did. On the other hand, she was a woman! I have heard Robin saying that being caressed by a girl is better than by a man, but I doubt that she knows the sensations I was discovering with my teacher.

Suddenly she slapped my butt, but to my astonishment, it didn't hurt! It was as if my nerves were electrified: no pain – I don't know how to call that sensation, I just know that it made my pussy tingle so strongly. I felt the handle slowly opening my petals and sliding inside me. I cannot cum except with something rigid moving inside my twat, so I welcomed that crop as if was the most delicious cock in all Auronia. How on earth had Miss Cathy guessed that?

My mind was so boggled that I could not think any more. All I knew was that I wanted to stay with my teacher, wanted her to pick me as her ponygirl and reward my good service with more of those marvelous sensations. From the moment she walked into the classroom on the first day of that course, some kind of bond had linked me to that blonde lady. The effect her smile had on me, the need I felt to follow her movements, my fascination for her clothing and boots, so shiny and soft – all this was more than mere admiration. It was an attraction I had never felt for anybody else.

She whispered on my ear:

"Are you surprised that your body might love to be touched in so many different ways, Sabel?"

"It's not that, Miss Cathy", I muttered. "It is... because you are... a woman..."

"Yes, I am a woman, and know what you are feeling."

My knees began to buckle and I felt that I was nearing my climax. But she took the crop out and said:

"On your fours now, Sabel. Put your forehead to the ground and stretch out your arms."

I did so and parted my legs, exposing my pussy. I saw her kneeling behind me and felt two fingers being inserted in my soppy pussy. I eagerly clenched my muscles on them and moved back and forth, feeling her nails on the bottom of my hole. Her magic thumb began to circle my clitty; I moaned loud and silently prayed for her to keep her fingers inside me until I reached my orgasm.

"How wet you are, Sabel! Do you know, you could be a wonderful ponygirl for me."

It was as if a lightning bolt had fallen on my head, so big was my surprise at those words! I gasped as her finger reached my cervix.

"Miss Cathy – are you… speaking… seriously?" I could barely speak, so strong were the sensations I was feeling.

"Of course I am."

She stopped wiggling her fingers inside my pussy and sped up her movements on my small button. I jerked, contracted my thighs a few times – and suddenly it came, a powerful burst of pleasure that sent my whole body shaking. Miss Cathy kept caressing me while I cummed, making me feel happier than any other time in my life. Then she slowed down, and suddenly her fingers were gone. As I looked back, I saw the tip of her boot just inches from ribs.

I wanted to sprawl on the floor and relax, but Miss Cathy gave me no time for that.

"On all fours now, Sabel."

I obeyed. She flicked the crop twice on my shoulder:

"When you are on your fours and I give you this sign, you lower your forehead onto the floor and stretch out your arms, like you did just now. This is called the "Friday" position, do you know why?"

"No, Miss Cathy."

"Because a man named Friday took it to acknowledge that another man named Robinson Crusoe was his Master. Now pay attention. If you feel these two light flicks on your shoulder, you "go Friday", as we say, no matter whether you are sitting, standing, kneeling or any other position. Got it?"

"Yes, Miss Cathy."

She went behind me and I felt the two flicks on my shoulder. I brought my head down and stretched out my arms like I was before. All that was so new for me! Then Miss Cathy clicked her tongue twice, making a sound like "ts, ts":

"When you hear this double tickling, you move up, but stay on your fours. Let's train this, ok?"

There was a short silence. She tickled once and I began to lift my arms, but she pressed her crop on my neck to stop me.

"Two tickles, not one, Sabel. Again."

The clicking of her boots told me that she was moving away. My whole body was tense, waiting for the sign. Then I heard very distinctly two tickles of her tongue and lifted my body to all fours.

"Good girl", she said. "You are beginning to understand what I call "crop language".

Still on my fours, I turned my head to see where she was.

"I didn't say you could look back, did I? Get used to stay how you are until told otherwise, Sabel. This is very important for your future life as a pony."

"Yes, Miss Cathy."

I sensed from her perfume that she was approaching – the clicking of the boots became slightly louder - and I then felt her bottom on my buttocks. She slid her crop between my teeth as if it was a bit and grabbed my ponytail:

"Move on, Sabel! You will carry me around the classroom."

I had never carried anybody like that, but I discovered that it is not difficult. As I moved forward, feeling her weight on my hips – she is not heavy at all – I heard her saying:

"There is something I want to tell you, Sabel. The day before your interview I had a meeting at the building where you work. I saw you scrubbing the floor of the lady's bathroom and was impressed by your fine body; your face was fresh in my memory and I recognized you when I saw your photograph on the application form. I was very happy and told the interviewer that you could become an excellent pony. And after examining you, he wholly agreed with me."

I had reached the end of the wall and felt a tug on my ponytail:

"Turn right."

The interview came back to my mind: how the examiner asked me to run in place for twenty minutes to check my breath, how he pinched my calves and thighs to feel my muscles, how he made me fold my arms to check my biceps – of course I don't have the arms of a man, but after seven years of scrubbing they are quite firm – and how he opened my mouth to see if all my teeth were there. I suppose this is to check if one can hold the bit, but am not sure.

"Oh, thank you, Miss Cathy", I wanted to say, but did not because if I opened my mouth the crop would fall down. Her thighs were pressed against the sides of my body; as I glanced back I saw that she had folded her legs back and lifted her boots from the floor. When we reached the end of that wall I was already expecting the light tug on my ponytail. A few minutes later, I had brought her back to the desk. I looked up at Miss Cathy, not knowing if I was to rise up or to wait.

She smiled at me and flicked the crop twice on my shoulder. As I "went Friday", she patted my head and said:

"Up now, dear, and get dressed. You did very well. Keep the good work and soon you will find yourself pulling my cart."

I was so happy at those words! As I went out from the classroom, my mind was racing: we were still at the very beginning of the course, and so many things had already happened! I felt that my life was going to change – and for the better.

Chapter Five: Learning to march in full harness

Cathy was sitting on the desk. She smiled as Sabel walked through the door, followed by Robin and Charra. Sabel was very pretty that day, with her hair tightly pulled back, showing her lovely ears. The buckle placed very high behind her head made the bushy mane go up and wave down over her shoulders in a deliciously casual manner.

The teacher's face flushed as she recalled how just a few hours before she had ridden the ebony around the room, her bottom rocking on the small of her back as the flexing muscles sweetly massaged her sex. Only her bikini had concealed the wetness that had formed on it. She smiled at the thought of so many moments like that.

On the blackboard, she had written just one word: STRIP. Nakedness was mandatory in the course, and Cathy wanted her students to get used to it.

"Good morning, class! Do you see those shelves on the wall? Go there and put your clothes on the rack marked with your name."