The other Pony Girls had it much easier with their riders, just having to follow the demands of their n****e leashes and living with the gentle tugs that exerted on the reins. Around and around we pranced until the machine speeded up and we were forced into a brief canter, making our riders bounce up and down in the saddles, howling with glee at their more rugged rides. Mine, though, continued to goad and torment me, reaching back and grasping my crupper strap, then pulling hard at it while he also jerked on my reins. These actions quickly drove me into a frenzy of rebellion, wailing and howling into my bit with pained distress and all the while kicking and bucking madly to shake him loose from his perch on my back, ignoring for the moment the staggering agony from my n*****s when the leas
