Denial, Guilt, Anger, Bargaining, Depression - Acceptance

Zoe took another **** bite of toast and hugged the blanket to her naked body a little tighter. Her head tugged back gently as Katie ran the brush through her red-hair again, still damp from her shower, while beneath their dining table Zoe’s feet bounced with constant anxiety.

After her tantrum, the red-head had despondently showered and then moved downstairs to eat at Katie’s insistence. The sun was only just coming up, even now, and Zoe felt like she was sat in a dream, or a nightmare. Beneath the blanket, Zoe could still feel the ever-present symbols of her apparent slavery – the weight of the collar at her neck, and the slick, rubbery straps of her harness, still slightly damp from her shower.

“And, when you’re being steered, does it hurt your nipples?”

“N-n-no…”

Katie had gone from asking her short questions, to awkward silences, and then back to more questions. Zoe had done her best to answer them, to try to explain what was happening to her, but her head hurt, her heart hurt. She didn’t want to think anymore.

Maybe I should just give up. Do what it wants; Be a Ponygirl. Humiliate myself. It would be easier than this. No more thinking. I could be a dumb animal. I could just run…

There was another drawn out pause as Katie brushed another strand of Zoe’s long red hair.

“You made good time today though…” Katie said after a moment.

Zoe swallowed another timid bite and closed her eyes, trying to hold back a sob. She knew Katie was only being kind, trying to be supportive, but it didn’t make it any less painful having to talk about it – like she cared how long it took her to make her enforced, humiliating, naked run… I don’t want to be running at all!

Zoe opened her lips to reply and then closed them again. She didn’t want to answer. Despite herself Zoe still felt a pang of irritation that she was still several minutes off of her PB.

Katie broke the silence with a sigh, “I still can’t believe, like, magic… this… whatever this is… I can’t believe it’s real… Can you imagine what else is out there we don’t know about?”

Zoe swallowed, her back tensing – she’d tried to avoid thinking about it. She didn’t want to think about it. Where Katie, by her wistful tone, was lost in some dream of the possibilities, Zoe found herself contemplating that same cosmic terror she felt when the weight of the collar reminded her that this was her reality now.

I’m cursed. I'm going to be a 'Ponygirl'.

“I… I don’t want to think about it…” Zoe mewled quietly, putting down the last scrap of her toast, her appetite ruined.

“I know… sorry… I’m just thinking, maybe there’s other things, other magic – maybe some spell to break this,” Katie started talking in the way that Zoe was familiar with. When the blonde got lost in her own story, the conversation became one sided pretty quickly, “Did I ever tell you, there was this girl I went to high-school with – she swore her aunt was a witch and she wanted to be a witch. Anyway, she was a weirdo, like, a total pscyho… she used to hang out with Tommy. Do you remember Tommy? He came to that party in freshman year here…”

Zoe zoned out. She didn’t want to listen. Katie could talk all she wanted about weirdo girls from her high school that thought they were witches – it didn’t matter – it hadn’t been true then, and it was stupid to even think it could help her now. Zoe needed to know what was happening to her – what was going to happen to her – she just needed to know what the collar wanted. What being a ponygirl even meant.

“Katie…”

“…she used to do this thing where-”

“Katie…”

“- and after she’d done it every-”

“Katie!”

The blonde stopped abruptly, the comb frozen in mid-stroke through Zoe’s hair. “huh?”

“I… I don’t know what being a ponygirl means…” Zoe said quietly. The naked girl waited for the blonde to reply, but instead she brushed her hair again, then again, in silence. After what felt like an eternity to Zoe, she heard Katie take a breath,

“I don’t either”

Zoe’s bare toes curled against the floor as she clutched the blanket even tighter.

“All we know is what your collar has told you to do right? And you said the original wrist thingy didn’t come with any instructions… so… I … I don’t know Zo… like, I don’t know how this ends?”

The red-head whimpered, she’d been trying to avoid thinking about it, but she knew Katie’s question was the right one.

How does this end?

What am I running for…?

Maybe it would keep driving her to run faster and faster, setting faster and faster standards until she couldn’t possibly keep up… what then? She’d have to run being whipped constantly… and what about her future beyond that? She didn’t have any distractions right now, but in a few months she was meant to have a job, start a career… start a life... she wasn’t meant to be magically enslaved.

She wasn’t meant to run ten miles a day, naked and barefoot, while being steered by her nipples - a magical collar around her neck cooing and sneering at her constantly. The illusory outfit was just enough to keep her from being noticed, but Zoe didn’t know how it worked, how long it lasted, or if it could be changed. How could she hope to explain to anyone why it always looked like she was barefoot and wearing a tiny black pair of shorts and a sports bra?

How could she ever hope to tell anyone that she was actually naked, collared and harnessed? "You caught me, I’m a secret ponygirl! Please help me!"

She couldn’t explain it to anyone.

Zoe shivered. She needed to call her parents – she couldn’t tell them anything, they couldn't help, but she just needed to hear their voices, to feel some comfort from someone other than Katie.

“I… I just want to know what I’m running for” Zoe whined, stomping one of her bare feet with a light pat.

There was a pause, and in the eerie, early morning light, both girls thought they heard a distant church bell ring – a dull, deep chime that echoed across the town for just a moment.

Zoe’s collar came to life,

“Qualify by running the required distance in 39 minutes 0 seconds”

Katie dropped the hairbrush and jumped backwards. Zoe, frantic, threw off the blanket to clutch at her throat – the smug, humiliating voice of the collar echoing around the quiet kitchen as both girls looked at each other in confusion.

Qualify?

“What?”

“What?”

“Qualify for what? Qualify for what?!” Zoe whined, anxiously, trying to shake the collar back to life, “Talk to me you fucking cursed evil bitch!”

“Bad Girl!”

Zoe shrieked when she felt the crop this time – expecting the white hot streak of the whip to lash across her naked ass as usual, the red-head was horrified when instead she felt the crop lick painfully against her pussy. She yelped, all dignity forgotten as she squeezed her thighs protectively together, her hands shooting to her crotch, seeing stars from the sudden eruption of unexpected pain.

“Zo!” Katie yelped in response, her hands rubbing at the red-heads back protectively as she tried to reassure her, “It’s… I don’t think insulting it will do any good…”

As she grimaced, feeling her heartbeat in her stinging hyper-sensitive clit, Zoe wasn’t sure if it had been worth it. She growled in frustration. Her pussy hurt - really hurt – and yet yelling at the voice had felt cathartic all the same.

Katie rubbed her bare back soothingly as Zoe sat panting and trying to bring her breathing back under control. After a few moments she managed to let go of her pussy for long enough to pull the blanket back over herself.

“39 minutes dead and… you qualify…” Katie repeated, her fingers tapping away in the air again as she thought, “You can run that easily right?”

Zoe moaned, “I’m not doing it, I’m not playing this stupid game anymore – I don’t want to ‘qualify’ for anything – I don’t want some mystery prize. This morning was meant to get me my clothes back and it got me nothing but shame, and hurt, and a whipped clit!”

The red-head fumed, then squeaked and sat back, her cheeks flushing pink in horror and humiliation at what she’d just said out loud. She glanced up at Katie in frantic anxiety, seeing the blonde’s cheeks flushing a brighter shade of pink to match.

“Qualify by running the required distance in 39 minutes 0 seconds”

There was another drawn out silence between them before Katie bit the inside of her cheek and then spoke quickly, “What… um… what does a ponygirl qualify for?”

Zoe’s eyes snapped around to look at her in hurt, realising she was talking to the collar and not her only made her feel worse and the red-head felt her face growing hotter with frustrated, humiliated anger, “Katie!?”

“Qualified Ponygirls are awarded entry into the paddock – where they can focus on training for the Race. Race winners earn freedom.” The collar chimed in reply.

Immediately Zoe’s face softened and froze in shock as the girls stared at each other in silence. Katie blinked, her eyes growing wide, “You wanted a reason to run, well there you go…”

Zoe’s lips parted, but she sat, speechless. She couldn’t breathe, as a torrent of feelings washed through her. She had no idea what any of what the voice had just said really meant, it was just as cryptic and mystifying, just as terrifying as it always was – but her conscious mind latched onto the only thing that mattered,

"Race winners earn freedom"

Zoe mewled. She didn’t know how, she didn’t know when, she didn’t care about any of it – all she cared about was knowing that freedom was a possibility. There was hope. There was, maybe, a light at the end of this tunnel… she just had to race for it...