She froze, then spun around. Her eyes widened in shock. He spread his arms and held up his palms.

“I mean no harm!”

She kept staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights for another second until his uniform registered. A stifled sob broke from her and the tension drained from her body. She stumbled towards him as he raced to catch her. She collapsed into his arms. They wound up in an awkward, one-sided embrace since her tack prevented her from doing anything more than leaning stiffly against him. Sobs wracked her body, and he muttered soothing sounds into her ear until her heaves subsided.

“Better now? Let me help you.”

He laid his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her away. In her hoof boots she was so tall he had to look up to study her face. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the thick nose ring resting on her upper lip. Swinging freely as it did, it was probably mounted in an eyelet pierced high-up through the cartilage of her septum. The elongated ring appeared serviceable rather than decorative, confirming she was kept not as a pet, but as livestock.

The tears had left tracks on her sweaty and dust-covered face. A bruise marred her left cheekbone. The bit pulled at the corners of her mouth and stretched her lips back. Both sides of her head had been shaved bare, leaving only a stripe of short,blonde hair along the top of her skull, like a mane. Incidentally, the tail sticking out of her butt was the same color, suggesting where the balance of her hair had ended up. The straps of the head harness bisected her face in a strange, quilt-like pattern while the collar enforced a faux haughty posture. Yet, despite her willful disfigurement, his connoisseur's view discerned the exceptionally beautiful girl hiding beneath the grime.

“Hmlgh mm!”

Frank had been staring spellbound into her luminous green eyes when her plea broke through his rapture. Guiltily, he lowered his gaze. Onto breasts thrust towards him as if begging to be fondled. With erect nipples pierced by heavy gauge steel, ready to be sucked …

Stop it! Her tantalizing pose was just an involuntary consequence of her bondage. He had to get a grip on his surging hormones and act professionally.

“Let’s see,” he murmured, lowering his arms to pluck at the straps of her harness. From up close, her gear looked even more formidable. He could not help but admire the workmanship that had gone into it. Black leather and gleaming steel formed an intricate prison for her body and head. Judging from how the straps indented her flesh, the harness had been fastened cruelly tight. Or, maybe the reason for its tightness was not cruelty, but caution to prevent chafing when she ran?

Despite their modest size, her breasts practically oozed out from the straps surrounding them. Pierced through each areola, right behind the nipples, incongruously large D-ring type shackles vied for attention. Like their counterpart in her nose, their industrial appearance dispelled any notion they could be simple jewelry. Their import was clear. What did it feel like to be so easily controllable? With a leash attached to her rings, even a child could take charge of her.

He released the snap hooks that fastened the broken-off shafts of the sulky to her belt and let them fall to the ground. That was all he could do for her. Each and every of the heavy-duty buckles on her harness was secured by a lock. Without the keys or a bolt cutter, there was no way to open them. Her owner obviously did not fancy the idea of someone else freeing her from her tack. Peering over her shoulder, he saw her mittened hands grazing the nape of her neck. Below the thumbless mittens, massive steel cuffs enclosed her delicate wrists. A few chain links connected the cuffs to a ring at the back of her posture collar. Not a chance. He beckoned her towards the brush that had snagged her reins.

“Step close, please! I’ll try to get you free.”

Frank suppressed a smile when she stomped her right foot in acknowledgment, clearly an automatic response ingrained by her pony training. A pang of guilty conscience made him lower his gaze. How long had she been forced to endure this dehumanizing treatment? Dutifully, she positioned herself close to the shrubbery, creating slack in her tether that made his task easier to accomplish.

He knelt down next to her feet. From this perspective, her legs appeared endless. Along her left flank, he noticed a long, bloody gash. She had been lucky, as this was apparently the only serious injury she had suffered in the fall into the ravine. Frank could not help but steal a look at her pussy, curious about the metal he had espied there earlier.

What the fuck? Five sturdy locks blocked access to her sex. Their shackles passed through paired grommets that pierced her outer labia on either side, ensuring she was not (ab)used beyond her designated role as a beast of burden. More steel peeked out from between her tightly compressed lips, but its exact nature could not be discerned.

The barbaric display made a bold statement. No doubt, her owner was the jealous type. Just as surely as Frank felt envious right now. Anyway, if you wanted to reward the pony, you could always slip your finger between her nether lips. The fresh whip marks that crisscrossed her bottom and thighs suggested that her late driver had taken a different approach to motivate her. Karma’s a bitch.

Frank swallowed. So this was the moment. No more hesitation, he had to decide on a course of action now. One question bothered him, though. Why me? Half of the police department was on their payroll, surely they could have sent one of them. It was a test. Had to be. Up to now, he had stayed clear by looking the other way. Unlike poor Bradley with his foolish do-gooder pretensions. Help the girl or rather help himself? If he did what was obviously expected of him, they would own him forever.

His gaze lingered on her right hoof boot. Ominous splotches darkened the leather just above the massive steel bow of the horseshoe sole. To kneel at her feet like this put him in a vulnerable position. He was well aware of what havoc a kick of these boots to his head could wreak. He had seen the results firsthand.

That decided it. After all, he was dealing with a murderess. Fortunately, the ponygirl could not observe his actions since her posture collar prevented her from looking down at her feet. From time to time, he tugged at her reins to convince her that he was working to free her when, in reality, he pursued a very different goal.

He took a number of broad cable ties from the pouch on his belt. Doing fieldwork, he preferred them over the clunkier handcuffs. Careful not to tip her off, he fastened cable ties loosely around her ankles, then completed the makeshift hobble by threading a third one between them. Done! Now, she could neither kick him nor outrun him in case she somehow managed to get away from him. He took a deep breath and tightened the loops around her ankles.

“Whampf?”

The ponygirl finally realized that something was amiss. Her questioning whinny turned into an alarmed cry when her attempt to step back ran afoul of her improvised shackles. She stumbled, but Frank caught her in his arms before she hit the ground. Although he set her down gently, she whimpered when her welted butt touched the forest floor.

Leaning forward, she could see now what he had done to her ankles. Her eyes widened dramatically. A flood of emotions played across her face before it finally settled into an expression of hurt and betrayal. Frank turned his back on her. Bending down, he began to tackle her tangled reins in earnest. Behind him, the pony began to cry softly.

Somehow, she had managed to tangle her reins in a Gordian knot in the thorny undergrowth. He pulled out a pocket knife but was loathe to cut through the leather. Undamaged, the reins would came in handy later. Instead, he attacked the recalcitrant shrubbery with a vengeance. He felt her eyes burning holes in the back of his head. Doggedly, he sawed through the tough stems. After a while, her stifled sobs subsided. He did not turn to face her when he finally spoke.

“Mr. Epwell’s made some generous donations to the community when he bought the Jeffries’ ranch. He’s cozy with the sheriff and the mayor. And every other official. When I got this job, I was told not to stick my nose in his private business.”

His attempt to explain himself elicited no reaction. Spoken aloud, it sounded lame even to himself. He glanced at her over his shoulder. If looks could kill, the county would lack a deputy sheriff. Better! Hate he could deal with.

“They say the governor is a regular visitor on the ranch...”

Her flinch told him all he needed to know. He had made the prudent choice. Who knew who else was in the billionaire’s pocket? This was far above his pay grade. He did not want to end up in a freak accident like Bradley. Besides, he had family in town. He had to worry about them, too.

He resumed his attack on the shrubbery. A minute later, he had freed her reins. Gripping them close to her bridle, he stood up and gave them a tug.

“Up!”

With a grace that belied her demanding footwear and strict bondage, the pony first rolled onto her knees, then got to her feet. In the same fluid movement, she stepped close to knee him in the groin. The hobble stopped her just millimeters from her target. Her frustrated howl sent spittle flying past her bit He smirked, and then she lost it.

Frank watched in amazement as she twisted and turned like a blade of grass in a storm. She fought her bondage with all she got. The locks in her pussy jangled when they bumped into each other. Their din was multiplied by those on her harness rattling against the buckles they secured. Her muscles trembled with exertion, yet despite her titanic efforts, her bonds did not budge a millimeter. Instead of reining her in, he gave some slack, allowing her temper tantrum to run its course. He would have an easier time later if he let her get the rage out of her system now. Besides, her frantic gyrations made for a fascinating spectacle, one he found deeply exciting. Finally, her shoulders slumped, and she ceased her struggles. Panting hard, she sent him a glare that should have scorched him on the spot. His answering smile was appreciative. She was a feisty one, for sure.

“My turn.” He vigorously pulled down on the reins, forcing her to bend at the hips, until her head was at the level of his chest.

“Aii!”

If her scream was any indication, yanking on her reins like this did something disagreeable to her mouth. Assuming her bit worked along similar lines as the curb bits for real horses he was familiar with, its shanks acted as levers for a spade-like mouthpiece that – depending on which way you pulled – pressed either into her soft palate or onto her tongue. A cruel regime to inflict on a ponygirl, but an effective one.

He brought his face close to hers, staring into her eyes. She stared right back at him, her defiance tempered by just a hint of fear.

“Behave!”

To emphasize his point, he hooked his little finger into her nose ring and pulled, while his other hand yanked down on her reins again. Frank slowly increased the force of his pull until she neighed in pain and stomped her foot. He continued her torment for a few more seconds to make the lesson stick. She needed to learn he was not one to be trifled with. He let go of her nose ring and patted her on the cheek.

“Good girl! I knew you’d come around.”

He wiped the tears from her eyes, then stepped back. She hung her head in defeat, but he was not fooled. With her, he must not let his guard down. Looping the end of the reins around his wrist, he turned to lead her back the way they had come.

“Let’s go! Time to get you home.”