The journey from Mexico to Dubai was an arduous and boring experience. The sheik had designed special compartments to hide our existence in both the road transporters and the aircraft; which eventually brought us all the way to Dubai. I didn't know what I was expecting, but when the doors were opened in preparation to unload the four of us, we were hit with a waft of scorching hot air.

However, despite the stifling conditions, it came as a huge relief to be stretching my legs, albeit in an awkward, bent Pony-girl posture. We didn't have far to walk, to where 4 male attendants in long white thawbs were waiting for us, each standing beside what looked like flat stainless steel supermarket trollies.

The other three fillies, Mystic, Mysha and Manab had travelled with the Sheik around Mexico before he arrived at the mine, where he decided on his fourth choice to fly home with him. I was that choice and the odd one out, for the other three had already spent some time with the Sheik in Dubai.

A dark skinned lad guided me forward and after I had settled onto a piece of shaped foam, he began strapping me to the trolley. A padded cup at the front supported my chin, while my legs dangled down at the back, enabling me to propel the tubular vehicle forward if needed. Once the assistant had finished securing the straps he laid a hand on my posterior and traced a few of the raised welts with his calloused fingers.

"If you give me any trouble bitch, I'll add a few more marks on your worthless hide. Do you understand, you dumb animal?" SLAP!

"Eeeeiiiii!" I whinnied with a lift of my head to signify I would behave.

"Good! If you fucking do as you're told, we'll get along fine." His hand slipped down the valley of my ass, past the silicone anal ring, with its metal stopper, until his fingers lighted on my thick labium lips.

I had travelled with my vagina full to the brim with a racing dildo, so the laces were tightly tied, denying him entry into my orifice.

"Once I empty this out, we can have some fun, heh?" He suddenly gave my vulva a shove, sending the trolley forward. "Off we go. Follow the others."

As I began walking the lad moved to the front and steered me, so that we tagged on to the end of the mini convoy, which was disappearing through the entrance to a tall modern building. We walked along a series of glass tunnels that were made from bronze glass, which seem to reflect the sunshine away and keep the corridors cool. What a contrast to the mine tunnels in Mexico, which I hoped I'd never see again in my lifetime.

The passageway let to a fitness centre where we were handed over to young female assistants who guided us into a large medical room. Once we were lined up side by side, the 4 girls, all dressed in thin golden tunics, gathered around Mystic and sedated her. Then, while she was drowsy, they removed her corset/harness and tack, before washing her thoroughly and fitting her with a new, plain brown leather set, including a leather hood and new boots.

It was awful having to wait until last, but the girls eventually reached me and jabbed a needle in my butt cheek, sending me into a pleasant and peaceful fugue. I was aware of what was happening to me, in particular the delightful body scrub, but I was totally limp and as weak as a kitten throughout the whole process.

When my head cleared, we were alone in the white tiled sterile room and I was able to look across to the others to see that we looked identical; which suggested that we were all going to be treated the same. The new leather bit that located behind my remaining teeth was more comfortable, but on the downside, I was back in a tight leather hood. I absolutely hated having my head covered, however the eyeholes were larger and the leather felt far suppler than the one I wore in the awful Mexican mines.

I must have dozed off, for I was woken by a handler, who told me to pay attention to an older woman who had just entered the room. She introduced herself as Doctor Bukhari and proceeded to give each one of us a medical check-up. Again, I was last in line, so had to wait while she poked and prodded the other three. After removing our plugs and dildos, she checked our temperatures at both ends, and then took samples of feces and urine, having told us to dump and wee onto the tiled floor.

A larger woman, also in a semi-transparent tunic appeared and walked round behind me. "Shall I take this animal through, Doctor?" she asked.

"Yes, take Frisky to theatre number one. I'll be through in a few minutes, Helga."

Helga gave the trolley a tug and I was on the move again. The theatre wasn't far along the same corridor and once she had positioned the trolley and locked the wheels to the floor, she patted my ass.

"The doctor is going to perform a minor operation on your back," she said running her finger across my back just below the line of the corset.

The doctor arrived and after Helga had left, she started to prepare for the operation. I was terrified of what was about to happen and being completely helpless, strapped to a trolley, made the prospect of being operated on even worse. An assistant in a gold tunic arrived to help and after injecting me once again tried to put me at my ease by massaging my buttocks.

"We just need to do some keyhole surgery, so that you're more comfortable while you're running," the doctor said, just before I began to feel drowsy.

I listened carefully to their discussions during the operation and came to the conclusion that what they were doing was more serious than she was letting on. Cutting the nerves to both the erector spinae and multifidis, which controlled the spinal extensors, sounded a very serious step to take, just to make me more comfortable in my stance!

However, I wasn't in any pain and after being returned to the original room, I spent a good night sleeping on the shaped trolley beside the other three fillies. The doctor woke us early the next morning, examined my back and gave permission for me and the other three to be transferred to the Pony Stables.

At the entrance to the fitness centre we were handed back to the young male attendants, who wheeled us back through the glass corridors to the stables, which were clearly divided into two sections - Pony-girls and Pony-boys.

"Now Frisky, I hope your name isn't a bad omen," the young Arab assistant chuckled. "I've warned you once and I won't warn you again. Give me any trouble, and I won't hesitate to use this," he said, brandishing a flexible whip in front of my face.

He steered me into a stall, which had a sturdy dais situated at its centre. My Pony name was printed high on the front, which made me feel a little more important than before. The lad unbuckled the straps, which held me to the trolley, and then lifted my body up, ready to steer me onto the taller podium. I tried to help by lifting my shoulders, only to receive the shock of my life.

Try as I might, my muscles wouldn't respond. My mind spun from the realization that the doctor had effectively disabled me and that I could no longer stand erect. The dreadful possibility occurred to me that I would never be able to stand upright again. Tears rolled down my face and my chest heaved with heavy sobs in the knowledge that I was one step nearer to becoming a complete animal.

"No need for that, Frisky," the lad cooed in a fake tone, as he helped me onto the dais.

After pushing the trolley away with his foot and lifting my thighs outward and up onto cushioned pegs, the lad fastened Velcro straps across my knees, body, and neck, to hold me in place. The straps probably weren't necessary, because without my arms, I couldn't lift myself off the high dais without his help.

I was pleased that the podium was shaped and cushioned like the trolley, making it extremely comfortable to lie on. Its padded surface had two holes for my breasts and a padded shape for my face to rest in.

After stepping up onto the wooden platform behind me, his hands lighted on my tender posterior and began massaging the bruised flesh. I tried to clench my buttocks, but I was in a totally helpless situation with my nether region stretched wide by my awful posture. He had unobstructed access to my pussy which was at an ideal height if he had a mind to spear me.

Fingers began pulling my firm globes apart. "Relax these cheeks you stupid animal," he muttered, slapping my ass lightly. "I know what you animals like more than anything," he said running his fingers over my jutting labium lips, with their neat rows of metal eyelets. "The huge cock of a stallion, heh?" he chuckled again. "You'll get plenty of cock in the rut tonight, especially when the Pony-boys realize there's a new filly in town!"

I knew the procedure, for virtually every handler that had been in charge of me had taken the opportunity to spear my defenceless pussy. I was actually dildo free and lace free, because the doctor had removed them, so there was nothing to stop him from taking advantage of my tethered situation.

"Oh yes, all new fillies are sweet fucks," the boy said enthusiastically.

He lifted his thawb onto my back and began playing with my cunt flesh. Every part of my pussy had been altered to make it resemble the genitalia of a real Pony. The trainers had begun spreading hormone creams on my vulva from the moment I was kidnapped, turning my once petite, tight labia into something resembling a vertical bacon sandwich. Once my lips were large enough my original trainers had punched a row of eyelets through them and kept my pussy permanently laced up.

Without the laces, my folds opened out like a huge flower, revealing a thick, meaty line of inner flesh and stubby nub, which the cruel trainer had also pierced and fitted with an eyelet. I felt the lad line his shaft up with my horizontal tunnel and plunge in forcibly. "It won't take long for the stallions to loosen this up..." he sighed. "Pity, because I like tight, white pussy!"

I cringed, knowing that I was actually considering the stable lad's actions as a relief from all the pain and discomfort of my awful situation. Everything that was happening to me was effectively reinforcing my animal status in my mind; which in turn influenced my general behaviour. In a short space of time, I had gotten used to pissing where I stood, crapping when exercising, and rutting in the grazing meadows with Pony-boys.

Then, when I was trying to rest after an exhausting day working or racing, the handlers and trainers expected to spear me whenever they felt the urge! The boy was young and virile and had a sizable cock, but was unable to hold back his ejaculation for long. I sighed with mild disappointment when the stable lad withdrew and stepped down from the step.

"Your trainer will be along in a minute to get you ready for some practice laps," the lad said, before patting my ass and heading off, presumably to report that I had arrived and was securely fastened to my podium.

I had time to reflect on my future, which was extremely uncertain, because the Sheik was clearly a ruthless operator. His callous actions to send me and the other girls down the mines in Mexico, showed that if I didn't perform for him, then it wouldn't be long before I was sent back there.

Mystic was his prize filly, but he was prepared to consign her to running the tunnels for a month if she disappointed him. I wasn't confident that I was fast enough to win races for him, but I was determined to give it a damn good try!