The Fall Izzy ran excitedly along the dusty forest path and waved to her father again before she was out of sight behind the trees. She had been eagerly awaiting the first day of school holidays for weeks, and at last it was here; the weather was wonderful, and the next few days were already well planned. She ran on dreamily and only a loud scream brought her out of her daydreams. “Watch out, girl!” shouted the coachman, a goblin, and pulled hard on the reins of his two horses, which were pushing against the heavy cart with all their might and, to Izzy’s shock, only stopped just in front of her. “Oh, it’s you, Isabel. Please be more careful. Let me have a look at you. You’ve grown up; Calling you a girl doesn’t really fit any more.” Izzy grinned. “It’s fine. It was my birthday last month. They say I’m an adult now, but when do you start feeling like one? If my father didn’t demand that I finish the school year, I’d probably have to look for work.” The horses looked angrily into her eyes. That wasn’t difficult either, they were about the same size, and only a little older. Without the ponygirl harness, you could have mistaken them for friends. The two young women wore a tight bridle around their heads and a horse’s bit in their mouths, which was connected to the driver’s reins. Their bodies were tightly attached to the bars of the cart so that they could pull it, while their arms were tied behind their bodies like it was common with ponygirls. The left horse stamped furiously with its sturdy hoof boots; the hooves made a metallic sound. Izzy looked down at the horse, her gaze following the leather straps that barely covered her privacy, and saw in disgust the brand on its buttock, which fit well with the registration number tattooed on her breast. All in all, it was a familiar sight in this part of the world, but Izzy shivered every time she saw a ponygirl. These poor girls, she thought, and took a step back. It must be terrible to be tied up like this all day. Izzy loved to run freely across the fields and go wherever she wanted. How could you lead a life in which someone controls you every second of the day? But it was difficult to avoid the ponygirls, as they were the only large transport animals in this part of the world. Arkynia, the huge but very long island on which she lived, was split like a cake into two equal parts: the empires of the humans in the west, and the realms of the goblins – to which the driver of these poor girls belonged – in the east. Her village was right on the border, it was divided between the two worlds, so there were numerous ponygirls here because of the goblins. This was no coincidence, as most animals did not tolerate the proximity of the goblins. No horse came closer than 10 meters, and none entered a place where they had stayed longer. Therefore, the people in the village had no horses, cows, dogs or other animals, too — but at least also no ponygirls, so they had no choice but to rely on the goblins for any form of delivery and longer journeys. “Now don’t stand around like that, the goods must be delivered. Don’t you have school today?” the driver asked. Izzy shook her head. “It’s school holidays after all!” “Oh yes … Good, then enjoy the nice weather. But you’d better be more careful in the future.” She looked after him for a moment: the goblins weren’t bad, but most people still didn’t like them, but as is so often the case, people were afraid of everything that was different. The usual goblin was barely three feet tall, had rough green skin, long fingers with short claws, and sharp teeth. Their eyes were large and black, the ears stood up, and long hair grew at the ends, which were almost the only hairs on their entire bodies. But they weren’t monsters, they didn’t smell bad, and most of them even took care of their claws so that they weren’t dirty or dangerous. And a goblin also knew how to behave, after all, they also went to their own school, which Izzy only knew from descriptions so far. That was also the reason Izzy had been excited for this day so much. Not only was she on school holidays, so was her best friend, Grall – a goblin! — had his first day of school holidays today and was probably already waiting for her. She ran on and reached a small clearing that was their secret hiding place. It was one of the few paths she really knew well and where she had never got lost, as it often happened to her. Grall sat on a stone and carved a branch with a blunt blade. “You’re late, Buttercup,” he murmured and continued to concentrate on his work, but Izzy noticed the big grin on his face as well. “Don’t call me that, I don’t like it!” she snapped. Even though they were best friends, she didn’t like it when he called her by a ponygirl name. It was one of those stupid little goblin jokes that she hadn’t gotten used to even after years. “You’d better be careful, or you’ll almost cut off a finger again. Besides, I’m not late, you’re way too early!” “The knife is too blunt for that.” He grunted and threw the almost untouched branch back into the forest. “My father wanted me to clean a few stables, so I ran away. Are you ready for our excursion? I have already planned the path exactly. One of the stable boys gave me a good tip. The ruins are only two hours away to the west, we can easily do that today.” “With your short legs, we can be happy if we make it out of the village by noon.” Grall stuck his tongue out at her — he was a few days older than her, but still often behaved terribly childishly — and collected his things. They ran from the clearing and used the wide dirt road for the first few kilometres. The birds chirped high in the trees, and the warm summer sun broke through the dense canopy of leaves again and again, warming their bodies and the forest. It was a wonderful day, at least until they ran into an unpleasant sight behind the next intersection. Grunhilda and her friends were on the way; the girl grinned with her terribly crooked teeth when she saw the two friends. Izzy had never understood why such a mean girl was more popular than she was. Was it just because she was so much bigger? Or was it because of her broad shoulders and strong legs? “Look, Grall is walking his ponygirl,” Grunhilda sneered, and Izzy rolled her eyes. It was the old story when someone saw her with Grall. In this world, friendship between goblins and humans was rare, apart from herself and Grall, she could only think of her father and Oozol – Grall’s father. “Shouldn’t she be tethered for this according to Goblin law?” “Shut up, you stupid cow!” Izzy shouted angrily. Grunhilda knew pretty well how to make Izzy mad. Her fuse was short when it came to this ghastly girl. “Otherwise, I’ll kick you!” “You certainly can. All horses can do that well. But your owner won’t like that.” Grunhilda grinned even wider as Grall pulled Izzy aside. “Don’t get angry!” he warned her and held her hand tightly. “We’re not going to bother with this garbage today, okay?” Izzy nodded, and they bypassed the group, but the girls still shouted mean things after her. “How do you actually ride bareback? Will he take you to the stable?” Izzy clenched her fists, but as always, Grall was the more level-headed of the two and just pulled them on. Of course, she followed rather than he could pull her – she was at least three times as strong as he was and could have thrown him through the woods with ease. But she allowed it anyway; otherwise the meeting would certainly not have ended so quickly and painlessly. She ran slowly after him, while his legs had to work overtime to make any progress at all. It looked almost funny how these short butts swept across the solid sand, and Izzy understood why the goblins liked to ride ponygirls so much — without the horses, the world would be far too big and hostile for such small creatures. Nevertheless, it was different with Grall, as she knew very well that he had never ridden a ponygirl. This was unusual for a goblin in general, but almost unthinkable in his case: not only had he grown rather unspectacularly even for a goblin – and didn’t even reach Izzy’s waist – he was also the son of the largest ponygirl breeder and dealer in the entire region. No one had more ponygirls in his stables than Oozol, there must have to be over 100 animals at least. That was also the reason Izzy avoided the farm – even though the old goblin was always very friendly to her. Grall’s unwillingness to ride a ponygirl had not only brought him the ridicule of many other goblins, but it was also often a heated topic of argument with his father. Although he liked and respected Izzy, a ponygirl was simply something wholly different to him. Grall, however, had made it clear time and again that he couldn’t be friends with Izzy and ride a ponygirl at the same time. The path led them to a popular swimming lake and Izzy looked through the branches. Her gaze followed the noise, and she saw something that made her heart beat faster: Dressed only in swimming trunks, Bastian ran through the grass by the water, took a run-up and jumped into the clear water with an athletic dive that was so typical of him. She had a crush on him for a while, but unfortunately, it has not been reciprocated so far. Before Izzy could watch some more, Grall tugged at her dress. “You’ll have time for daydreams later, Izzy,” he snapped. “Or you can go and talk to him. But standing around and staring at him is stupid.” The way to the ruins was further than Grall had suspected, and so it was already afternoon when they broke through the undergrowth and an old castle ruin appeared among the trees. It was burned to the ground, but you could still see the shape of the castle. “The fights must have been terrible,” said Grall, running his claws over the stone. “It’s good that humans and goblins now live in peace. So many have died …” The remains of a bridle sparkled in the sun, and Izzy picked it up carefully. She looked at the leather remnants for a long time. “It must be terrible to be driven into a fight against your own species with a rider on your back.” Grall looked at her thoughtfully. “For a goblin, a ponygirl is not a person, but … well … a ponygirl.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But you’re right, I would rather not be forced into a fight either. That’s not right. Come on, let’s keep looking around.” The old ruins of the past fascinated the two more than the others in the village. Most humans and goblins were not interested in history, and war was a taboo subject. The peace was too precious to endanger it with the past. But it was precisely this forbidden nature that particularly appealed to Izzy and Grall. It was a forgotten time full of secrets, and yet the truth was often within reach. “There’s something else up there,” Grall said, and clumsily climbed a wall. This was unnecessary, Izzy was almost tall enough to just reach there, but Grall, as always, was too proud to ask her. “I almost have it, only … Ah!” One of the stones was loose and Grall fell unchecked. The soft forest floor caught him gently, but his right leg hit a branch. He moaned loudly and whimpered. “Did you break something?” Izzy asked anxiously. She helped him up, but his face was contorted in pain as he put weight on his leg. “Maybe. It hurts like hell. I can’t run like that. You have to go back to the village and get help.” “I won’t leave you behind. There could be wolves in this part of the forest. You know full well that they don’t fear goblins as much as the tame animals.” Grall nodded slowly as he sat down on a stone and rested. “What now?” He looked at her helplessly with his large black eyes. “I will support you.” She grabbed him under the arm and pulled him to his feet. It was a pitiful sight, but they tried. The way out of the ruins was uneven and difficult. “We have to move to the right here.” “Nonsense, we came from the left. You’ll get lost in your own room,” he sneered, panting and tried to grin despite the pain. “It’s a good thing that you don’t run back alone. You’d run right into a river, and I’d starve to death here.” Izzy poked him in the side with her finger. “But that would take a few days.” She winked, but that was the only funny thing about the situation. They barely got 20 meters when they had to stop. The path was too rough to walk with a broken leg, and Izzy was just too big to support Grall. It was a misery for both of them. “If you describe the way to me exactly, I’m sure I’ll find it.” Grall shook his head. “You mean well, and I’m truly grateful to you, but we both know that you won’t find your way back. We need another solution. Let’s go a little further, we just have to go over this root there.” Izzy nodded, got down on her knees and, to his surprise, lifted Grall up lightly like a small child. She trudged over the tree trunk with long strides and just kept running. “You can let me down!” “I could, but you’re actually not heavy, I can carry you at least part of the way.” “And if I don’t want that?” asked Grall, grimacing his wrinkled green face. His ears twitched and the hair at the ends tickled Izzy. “Swallow your pride.” She looked down at him as he lay there like a swaddling baby with his head on her bosom. He was visibly uncomfortable, but since he was silent, he probably didn’t have a better solution. They made good progress with this method, even though his weight still pulled Izzy’s arms down over time. He clasped her neck to help at least a little, but it didn’t make it much easier. Soon her arms were burning, but they weren’t far from Oozol’s farm, and so Izzy fought her way through the pain. She reached the farm with the last of her strength. Two riders on ponygirls came riding up, one of them was Oozol. For a moment, there were three young women wearing goblins, and Izzy didn’t feel comfortable about that at all. She hurriedly laid Grall on the floor. “What happened?” asked Oozol, jumping off his horse and examining his son’s leg. “That’s probably a smooth break.” Izzy and Grall looked at each other sadly. “I guess the holidays are ruined,” he said. — For the next two days, Izzy walked alone through the countryside. The weather was still beautiful, the sun was shining, and the birds were singing their beautiful songs, but without Grall something was missing. Not only was his company important to her; without him, she had once again got into a heated argument with Grunhilda, from which both of them emerged with black eyes. Without Grall, she also couldn’t investigate the ruins any further—though she hated to admit it, he was right about her sense of direction. She still remembered a trip a few years ago when she got lost alone in the forest; she had wandered around for two days until a merchant found her in a clearing. She did not like to think back to it, and it had been a warning to her. On the third day, she was finally allowed to go back to Grall. The way from her father’s hut was not far, and she met only a few old women who were gathering wood with racks on their backs. She stopped at the entrance gate to Oozol farm and took a deep breath. “You can do it, girl. It’s just a yard full of ponygirls. Nothing bad, you see them everywhere. The poor bound girls, with bridles and riders with whips. Everything is perfectly normal …” It was not her first visit to the farm, but it had grown noticeably over the years. Grall had often told her what was happening there, when he wasn’t complaining about his little sister. The little goblin girl had to be a real devil according to his stories, but he was probably just exaggerating a bit. Whenever Izzy saw her, she seemed quite nice, if a bit stubborn – but she shared that with her brother. Oozol, her father, was famous throughout the country for his ponygirls. He bred them, bought them and sold them, but he also trained them. This was also necessary because not every ponygirl was born as such; some were spoils of war, some had simply been kidnapped in distant lands, others had been made ponygirls as punishment, and some were even claimed to be voluntary—but Izzy didn’t believe that for a second. There was only one unwritten rule that everyone adhered to: No girl was used as a ponygirl in the same region where she had previously lived, unless she agreed. It was just too strange for many to see a friend’s daughter as an animal; whenever this was done, there were quarrels between humans and goblins. Therefore, Izzy knew that she was relatively safe, after all, her father and Oozol were good friends, and even in the worst case, neither of them would send her far away as a ponygirl. She took the first step and immediately heard Oozol calling. “Finally, I thought you had a stroke. Come to the window, then you can talk to my son.” As expected, he did not invite her in. She hadn’t assumed that either, the houses of the goblins were tiny. Unlike humans, they didn’t like high ceilings, so their rooms were just high enough for an adult human to lie down. However, the rooms were rarely long enough for this to work — goblins loved the confinement, which was simply oppressive for humans. Izzy sat down in front of the window and looked into Grall’s room, where there was hardly space for a bed or a closet. “How are you? Does it still hurt?” “At least my leg doesn’t hurt any more. We goblins heal quickly, but it’s still going to take the whole holidays.” He falls back into his bed, which consisted of a box with the best topsoil, the goblins liked to be connected to nature at night. “My pride has been hit worse. But you have developed well in the past two years …” He looked at her breasts, which he now knew firsthand how comfortable they were. Both turned a little red, which was not easy for a goblin with their thick green skin. He stared at the ceiling. “It’s terribly boring here. That’s not how I imagined my holidays. But we still have so many ruins to find.” “Then we’ll do it anyway.” Grall looked at her in surprise. “That’s not possible, you almost didn’t make it back last time.” He swallowed. “I also felt like a child. I won’t do that again. If anyone sees us like that, I’m the laughingstock of all goblins.” “But I thought you liked to be carried by girls,” she teased him. “What are you talking about?” asked a squeaky little voice from the door. It was Saxea, Grall’s little sister. She looked curiously into the room, but Grall only threw a pillow at her and slammed the door. He sighed. “Goblins enjoy riding ponygirls, but this was humiliating.” Izzy thought about it. Apart from his pride, it had also been decidedly uncomfortable. The weight was poorly distributed, and her arms were not as strong as her legs. She’d heard a lot of scorn from the other girls for her strong thighs, but there was no doubt about it – she was born to run, but certainly not to carry. She looked around as her eyes fell on a few fallen branches at the edge of the courtyard. “I have an idea,” she said, and ran off before Grall could ask about it. He leaned out of the window and looked after her. After a few minutes, she came back and held a wooden frame in front of Grall’s window. “This should work.” “Do you want to go collect wood?” “No, you fool, I’ll take you with me. You sit in it and we’ll go.” Grall looked at her with his mouth open. A fly flew in, and he coughed. “You want me to ride you?” “No way,” Izzy declined firmly. “You sit in it, and I run.” “That’s called riding.” “No, that’s not true. I choose the path, and you’re just my guest. No reins, no whip. Understood! You are something like an annoying talking backpack. Now shut up; otherwise I’ll change my mind.” Grall bit his tongue and preferred not to say anything more. He slowly lifted himself up and hobbled along the narrow path between the bed and the closet and disappeared into the hallway. Izzy shouldered the rack and waited for Grall to come out. His father followed him, and they spoke to each other in the goblin language that Izzy didn’t understand. Goblins spoke most of the time in the common language that goblins and humans shared, only very private things were discussed differently. Izzy watched the scene nervously; she didn’t really like Oozol seeing her like that, but now it was too late. “Well, I’ll allow it, but it’s a stupid idea,” Oozol said sullenly and helped his son into the rack. “Thank you, Isabel, for helping him. He’s unbearable in the house. How do you put up with him? If he wasn’t my son, I would have sold him long ago.” The old man giggled and waved after the two. Izzy straightened up and swallowed. It was a strange feeling to have someone on her back. It was different from a backpack because it didn’t make any movements and didn’t breathe into her neck! “Stop it,” Izzy said, but Grall had little choice. “Your hair flies in my face,” he scolded. “Can I tie it into a braid?” “But do it quickly …” She waited until Grall was done and dared to take the first step. She had to find her new balance first, but Grall was too restless and kept causing her to stumble. “Now sit still, or do you want us to fall over?” “I’m sorry, but everything is so different from up here. You don’t understand, you’re so big, but it’s like seeing the world with new eyes!” “Good for you, but stop it, or we won’t get anywhere.” The next steps were easier, Grall had calmed down, and she realized that she only had to lean forward slightly to distribute the weight better. This was no surprise to her, most ponygirls ran like this with riders on their backs. She snorted and pushed the thought aside — she had nothing in common with them! She ran a little faster, and to her great delight, Grall was hardly a significant weight on her back. Her legs continued to whirl, and soon she was running with the same confidence and control as if she were alone. “This is so fantastic,” Grall exclaimed. “You’re really fast, most other ponygirls would have to work hard to keep up with you.” Izzy looked at him angrily over her shoulder. “I’m not a ponygirl.” “Of course not, that’s not what I meant. But you’re really fast. I’ve never been so fast, it’s unbelievable. Follow the road a little longer, and I’ll tell you if we have to turn.” Their journey took a few hours, but for Izzy that wasn’t a problem. Grall tried not to be too heavy for her, and the path was easy. The ruins were worth a visit, even if they didn’t find anything special this time, but the view from the cliffs to the sea was reward enough. On the return journey, however, Izzy noticed that while Grall was light, the wooden frame had not been built for such long journeys. The raw branches pierced through her clothes and chafed her back and shoulders. It was enough for a ride – she was annoyed to even think of this word – but certainly not for longer. Grall’s bones also hurt, the wood was unpadded and bored into his skin as well. When they arrived at the farm, Oozol was already waiting for them. He gave Izzy something to drink and took the rack off her, shaking his head, without commenting on the red welts on her back. Izzy pulled Grall behind a barn at the edge of the yard so they could speak alone. “When do we meet tomorrow?” asked Grall excitedly, leaning against the wall so that his foot was not strained despite the cast. “We can look at a ruin in the south.” “No, that’s not possible,” Izzy said and lifted her shirt up, and Grall looked uncertainly at her back. The skin was torn all over, red, and sore. “Sorry, I thought the wood collectors had it a little more comfortable.” “Wood isn’t as restless as you are,” Izzy said reproachfully. “Besides, they don’t wear it for so long, and not while running. It can’t go on like this, otherwise my whole back will be broken.” “My father has a few medicinal herbs for injured ponygirls, of course they would work for you too.” He limped off and came back with a solid ointment, which he applied to her bare skin with trembling fingers. He also had to rub her side and tried his best not to touch her breasts. Although humans and goblins had entirely different ideas of attractiveness – and to their knowledge there was no mixed pair of lovers in the whole world – shame was well known to both races. Izzy flinched when he touched her side. “Good, that should be enough.” “Then that’s it?” She pulled her shirt down. Her voice sounded as sad as she felt. The holidays had always been sacred to her, it was the only time when she was only with Grall and could escape the ridicule and scorn of the other children. Without him, it just wasn’t fun. Grall chewed on his lip. It was an unmistakable sign to Izzy that he was thinking, but that he was also uncomfortable with the topic. She gave him some time, there was no point in driving him anyway, and waited anxiously until he was ready to speak. He swallowed loudly and cleared his throat as if he were preparing a long and important speech. He stood up straight, shook his shoulders and looked her straight in the eye, with an intensity she had rarely seen from him. Something important had to follow, and she was really curious to see what he had to say. She raised an eyebrow and waited until he finally opened his mouth. His voice trembled slightly, although he visibly made every effort to appear self-confident: “We should try it with a saddle.” Izzy looked at him in surprise; the slap hit Grall before she herself realized that she had swung out. The Saddle Izzy looked at Grall in disgust. “Have you completely lost your mind? What’s wrong with you, did you hit your head?” Grall slowly turned his head back, half his face was glowing red, but he didn’t seem to be in the least offended or angry. He didn’t even look surprised, rather as if that had been precisely the reaction he had expected. He looked at her with a slight smile and waited to see if she would hit him again. When she didn’t, he limped back a step to be on the safe side. “A saddle is perfect.” He flinched briefly as her eyebrows furrowed. “They’re made for humans to carry goblins on their backs, aren’t they?” Izzy nodded very slowly, like a stone giant waking up from a long and deep sleep. “It’s just a kind of backpack, no different from the wooden frame, only much more comfortable. Many wear saddles, that’s quite normal.” Izzy’s grumbling was probably difficult for Grall to interpret, so he leaned back a little and waited for her answer. “Horses … Ponygirls wear saddles, but I’m not a ponygirl! Besides, you don’t really believe that I’ll follow you to your father and try on saddles in front of everyone. You must have completely lost your mind!” “We don’t have to,” he tried to calm her down, but her eyes burned like fire. “If you allow it, I’ll bring one here, then you can look at it. You then decide whether we do it. No one will see it, no one will hear about it. Come on, at least look at it. Otherwise, our holidays will fall through. Pleeaasssee.” Izzy inhaled heavily. “ Fine, get it here, but beware of anyone following you or seeing it.” She could hardly believe that she was willing to look at one of these monstrous saddles. She had seen enough of it on the backs of poor girls and women in her life, and never wanted to get too close to any of them. But on the other hand, he was probably right: without a solution, their holidays were ruined. It was the last school holiday together that they had left before they would finish school. Who would know if they even had time for each other afterwards. Oozol had made no secret of the fact that Grall should do more on the farm, and there was always something to do on a farm like this. She waited nervously for his return. It was all very strange. Impatiently, she looked around the corner and shuddered when she saw a ponygirl slowly bending forward and kissing Oozol’s feet. She had never seen anything like it before, but Oozol and the other goblins seemed thrilled. She turned away in disgust and was startled when Grall stood in front of her with the saddle. “This one will suit you. But first have a close look at it, then you can decide.” The saddle was made of dark, thick leather. A very fine and elaborate work, as even Izzy immediately recognized. The seams were all perfect, and the leather was flawless and extremely soft, it gave way elastically under her fingers, only to immediately jump into its old shape afterwards. Nothing protruded and could hurt the animal’s skin – her skin, she thought, if she wore it. You could certainly have him on your back for hours without any pain, she noted approvingly. The straps with which the saddle was tied to the horse were as finely crafted and felt soft and smooth, the buckles were made of fine metal and so masterfully crafted that Izzy wondered why there was such an expensive saddle on Oozol’s farm at all. This wasn’t your usual saddle for any ponygirl, it had to belong to a rich goblin. “Did you steal it?” Izzy asked uncertainly. Grall shook his head energetically. “We have a few special saddles in stock. They are never used, so no one will miss it. It won’t be noticeable when we use it. I just have to clean it in the end.” Izzy’s fingers ran over the leather again. The saddle was clean, even too clean. It was obvious that no horse had carried it before, she would be the first – she snorted again, and would have liked to hit herself against the head. Where did these thoughts come from? She knew that the straps all had a different purpose: One part would go over her shoulder and support most of the weight, while another part would go around her stomach so that the saddle would sit securely on her hips and butt. In general, the butt of a horse was an important feature for a ponygirl. A good saddle followed the natural curves and made use of them so that the horse could distribute the rider’s weight well. This is one of the reasons why Ponygirls were popular, while pony boys were only used for breeding – apart from the fact that they were much more difficult to keep. Izzy looked over her back and realized with shame that her curves and buttocks were certainly perfectly shaped for a saddle. “Do you want to try it on?” Grall asked quietly. “We try, but you stop immediately when I say so. Understood?” She looked around again. There was little reason why any of the grooms should come here, but she wasn’t so sure about Saxea. Grall nodded, terribly badly to hide a broad grin. “TACK!” he said loudly. Izzy looked at him in surprise. She knew the word, she had heard it several times before. Goblins used it to get their Ponygirls down on their knees – whether to get on or off, or to do something with their saddles. She was boiling with rage, and was about to stop everything, but she gathered all her strength not to slap him again. “Sorry, that was just out of habit. Sometimes I had to help with the saddle. It won’t happen again, I promise!” “You really think I’m a ponygirl, don’t you?” she said sharply. “No, no, you’re my friend Isabel, and I know that. Really!” She knelt down slowly and turned her back to him. “With clothes?” he asked and quickly added before Izzy could say anything: “With clothes, of course… stupid question…” It was a strange feeling when the saddle was placed on her back. The material felt wonderful, it hugged her body and adapted to every single curve, like a soft coat. She waited for Grall to continue, but he hesitated. She looked over her shoulder, and he stared at her with wide eyes. “Your arms…” he stuttered, as if these words carried the danger that he could lose his head. And he wasn’t wrong, Izzy jumped up and looked at him fiercely. “We talked about a saddle, not that you can tie me up!” She grabbed his arms and twisted them on his back. He grunted in the pain. “Do you think that’s nice, would you like it that way?” “Izzy, please, you’re really hurting me. You’re too strong for me.” Izzy awoke from her anger as if from a trance and let him go. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but why do you think I’ll let you do that?” He wiped a tear from his face and rubbed his arms. He looked at her with the look of a kicked dog. “All ponygirl saddles are like that, you know that. Or have you ever seen a ponygirl juggling balls while being ridden?” “How am I supposed to know that there is no other way? I thought you’d just tie the saddle on my back and that’s it!” Grall nodded. “You’re right, I didn’t explain that properly. But it has to be done, or it won’t fit properly. The arms give the saddle lateral support; otherwise they wobble around too much. It doesn’t work without it. If we want to try, then we have to do it right. But it’s okay if you don’t have the courage to do it.” I grinned at her. “That was cheap.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But did it work?” Izzy sighed once again and got down on her knees, turned her back to him and twisted her arms behind her back. It was probably the most humiliating thing she had ever done, but she would rather not be told that she was too cowardly to try something new. As long as no one saw her like that, it was harmless. Again she felt the saddle on her back, only this time it encircled her arms. At first, she feared that her arms would hurt quickly in this position, but the saddle gave her enough support and didn’t squeeze her arms together, so it was actually quite comfortable. Nothing that she always had to have, but it would probably be bearable. “May I continue?” She nodded, and Grall threw the straps over her shoulders. Thanks to her expansive buttocks, the saddle was already sitting securely on her back, but she preferred not to think about it any further. Grall went forward and put the straps over her chest. He divided them so that one part ran to the right of her bosom, one part to the left of it, and a last part right in the middle. He hurriedly tied the strap around her stomach and fastened the sternum straps to it. When tightened, her breasts almost popped out of the fabric, and both blushed. He hardly dared to look ahead, but there was still a problem. Luckily, Izzy was wearing pants that day, but even so, Grall was uncomfortable enough when he still had to attach an important strap. “Can you please get up?” he asked, and Izzy guessed what was coming. Grall walked around her and took the lumbar strap, passed it under her buttocks and passed it forward, getting dangerously close to her intimacy, which was only removed from him by the fabric of the pants. Izzy was shaking slightly, but Grall’s fingers weren’t very calm either. He threaded the strap through the buckle on her stomach and pulled it tightly until Izzy howled in surprise as the material dug tightly between her legs. “It has to fit a little tighter, or the saddle won’t hold.” Izzy felt something warm in her abdomen and fought with all her might to ignore it, which really wasn’t easy. “What do you say, does it fit well?” With uncertain steps, Izzy walked around a few meters behind the barn. It was strange to walk without swinging arms, but apart from that, it wasn’t really very different than usual. She didn’t even feel the saddle, it was light as a feather. Thanks to her arms, it even had some distance to her back and let enough air through so that she didn’t get too warm underneath. She went back to Grall and knelt next to him so that she didn’t have to talk down to him from above. “Not bad, it’s a nice saddle, even if I don’t know much about it.” “My Buttercup is slowly becoming an expert in saddles,” joked Grall, and swinging into the saddle with a quick movement despite his broken leg. What followed was a moment of complete silence. He had taken Izzy by surprise, she wanted to discuss with him whether he was really allowed to get into the saddle, but it seemed that he had taken it all as an invitation. And then he’d called her Buttercup again. She wavered back and forth between shame and anger, and needed a moment to collect herself. “Are you okay?” he asked cautiously, he hadn’t missed the rapid change of mood. “GET OFF – NOW!” “But…” “NOW!” He did as ordered. “What was wrong?” “You will never get into the saddle again if I don’t allow it first. I am not a horse on your farm. You don’t ride me, I’ll just take you on a trip. Understood?” “Should I take the saddle off?” Izzy breathed in and out slowly. Her heart told her to say yes, and then feed Grall with the saddle. But her mind prevailed this time. Actually, he hadn’t done much wrong. He ought to have asked, but on the other side she wore a saddle, and such a saddle is for riding. So why shouldn’t he be allowed to mount her saddle? Was a saddle so different from the wooden basket, on which he was also allowed to mount? “No, but you’ll ask me in the future.” “I promise,” he said meekly. Izzy was a giant to him, a mountain of muscles and full of strength. It wasn’t a good idea for a little goblin to annoy someone like that unnecessarily. Most people didn’t even understand how strong they were compared to a goblin, but at the same time they were careful with “real” horses themselves, and the balance of power wasn’t that different. “May I please mount your saddle?” She nodded and went a little deeper so that he could get on her back more easily. For the second time that day — and the third time ever — she felt his weight on her back. But it felt so much lighter than with the wooden basket. The saddle was truly fantastic, a masterpiece, even if it was meant to turn a poor girl like her into an animal. Izzy shook the thought aside. The saddle was only a backpack for her, and Grall only a guest in it. She was in charge, and it would stay that way. She dared a few steps, and as with the basket, she quickly found her balance. “Ready for an adventure?” He nodded and gave her a little kick, as one did with horses when one wanted to spur her on. “Careful, Grall, you’re walking on very thin ice!” She started running, but Grall tapped her on the shoulder. “We have to go to the left…” “Oh, shut up,” Izzy said, but went to the left anyway. The journey from the farm was the most exciting part of the travel for Izzy. It wasn’t easy to avoid the many curious eyes, but when they were finally half an hour away from the village, she relaxed a bit. Izzy felt surprisingly free, even though she had Grall on her back. The saddle did not bother her at all, and she quickly got used to her bound arms. She ran along the paths and slopes and enjoyed the loud laughter of Grall, who also had his fun. Only occasionally did they have problems, when the loud whistling of the wind in their ears made it impossible to understand Grall’s directions. But that was a small price. The ruin was again worth a trip, this time it was at the top of a small mountain, and the view of the valley below was incredible. They found old weapons and even a book in a box, but unfortunately, it had been destroyed by the water. There were no treasures to discover, but even so they were not disappointed. Since it was already late, there were hardly any people left on the streets, so Izzy managed to get behind the barn of Oozol’s farm unseen and let Grall dismount. Even though the saddle was very comfortable, her legs hurt from all the running. “The saddle is good, but my feet are killing me. How was it for you?” “That was pure madness,” said Grall and grinned all over his face. “You’re so fast. And the saddle was really comfortable. Wait, I’ll take it from you.” He undid all the buckles and Izzy felt the pressure between her legs loosen, which she almost regretted a little. When Grall took the saddle off her back, he made a short “Hmm”. “What’s going on?” asked Izzy. “The saddle is comfortable, but it still ripped your clothes.” She looked at her back, and the cloth down in shreds. “Damn, that was a good shirt!” “So that’s it?” Izzy shook her head. “I’m thinking about something for tomorrow.” Grall’s beaming grin could have blinded even a blind man. “So we’re going to ride again tomorrow?” “No one rides anywhere here, but I’ll be happy to take you in the saddle if you like.” — The next morning, Grall was already waiting for Izzy. The saddle was also already cleaned and lying on a stone ready for the next adventure. But when Grall saw Izzy, he looked at her confused. “Why are you wearing a long dress,” he asked. The dress had a lot of resemblance to a potato sack, and did not necessarily flatter her figure. “I can’t put the saddle on you with that.” Izzy didn’t miss the disappointment in his voice. “My father was pretty angry that I ruined my shirt. The pants were also chafed between my legs.” She blushed. “But I have a solution. But woe betide you if you laugh at me. Promise me.” Grall nodded. “I don’t laugh, no matter what it is. Big green word of honour!” Izzy closed her eyes for a moment and clenched her hands into fists as if she needed to gather strength. She looked around again, then grabbed the hem of the dress and lifted it above her head. As promised, Grall did not laugh, but he was visibly unable to do so. His chin had almost fallen to the floor, and he was staring at her with his big eyes. She wore only very skimpy skin-coloured underwear, it looked as if she were standing naked behind the shed. “This a … surprising,” Grall stammers and swallows. “Are you sure?” “Do it before I change my mind.” “Good. I’ve brought you something, too.” He handed her a pair of pony boots in her size. This type of boot was specially made for Ponygirls. The high boots gave a lot of lateral support and kept feet and thighs dry even in bad weather. They had a small heel under which a horseshoe was nailed out of tradition. All in all, they were considered the ideal shoes for a mount, and Izzy also found them to be very comfortable — much better than her shoes for a ride … again she was annoyed by the thought. Grall put the saddle on her, and brought the straps back over her bosom, which he got to know much more personally this time. The strap over her bare stomach was quickly pulled, but the one for her abdomen made Grall sweat. Izzy was his best friend, but his fingers were only a wafer-thin fabric separated from her most intimate area, which obviously made him very nervous. He dropped the strap several times, and had to try again. Izzy would have liked to help him, but her hands were already under the saddle. Whenever his fingers stroked her abdomen, she flinched slightly. Finally, everything was in its place, and Grall looked at his work. “You look incredible.” “If you laugh now, I swear to you, you’ll regret it.” “No, you misunderstand me.” He raised his hands defensively. “You are beautiful. I’ve never seen you like this before. The saddle helps your posture. And the straps and pony boots look fantastic on you. There is no such great horse on the whole farm.” Izzy bit her tongue. It was a really strange compliment, and she didn’t like the comparison, but it was also the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. Her heart leaped for joy, while her brain complained. Maybe she should be a little nicer to him today. “May I get into the saddle?” She nodded, but only looked at him with a grin. “Um… Tack?” Izzy winked. “But let’s not make that a habit.” She felt Grall mounting the saddle. When she stood upright again, Grall gave her a very light kick, and Izzy walked off, ready for a new adventure deep in the forest. This time, only Grall knew where she was going, but it wasn’t as if she had found her way on her own anyway. — The ride took them deep into the forest on the goblin side of the island. Izzy had rarely been there — it wasn’t the safest place for an unaccompanied human girl — but with Grall, the risk didn’t seem too great to her. The weather was wonderful again, and as she had to admit, the freedom without clothes felt quite good. It was unusual, but certainly more of an improvement. The wind tickled her stomach as she ran across the fields. The border region was sparsely populated on both sides as a result of the war, so to Izzy’s relief, they saw no one. Even though she knew that a half-naked girl with a saddle was not an unusual sight for the goblins, she still preferred not to have this experience. Instead, she preferred to enjoy the sun on her skin and talk to Grall while they explored the unknown territory. It was a wonderful trip, the best so far. The pony boots were much better than her old shoes, even if the unfamiliar knock-knock sound of her hooves reminded her with every step on solid ground that these were not normal boots, but actually belonged to a ponygirl. But like the saddle, these boots fit her like a glove. Grall had a real talent for finding the best and most suitable things for her from her father’s stock. And like the saddle, these shoes seemed to be new. If Izzy had been honest with herself, it would have been hard for her to deny that the whole situation was also a bit exciting. There was something forbidden about walking half-naked through the forest with a saddle and pony boots, a boundary that required some courage to cross – and also because it was risky. But of course, she would never admit that, especially not to Grall, who already had enough fun with the situation. For someone who didn’t really want to ride Ponygirls, the rides — excursions, she corrected herself — were a lot of fun for him. He visibly enjoyed the height in the saddle and the speed with which Izzy swept through the landscape as if the devil himself was after her. They had already been on the road for two hours when Izzy broke through the undergrowth and found herself in a small clearing where two goblins were already standing on the backs of their Ponygirls. Izzy stopped so abruptly that Grall almost flew out of the saddle. She stared at the two riders, who looked at the strange couple with interest. “Don’t say anything, let me speak. You’re a ponygirl here,” Grall whispered, and Izzy was too nervous to nod. Sure, a nodding ponygirl would have been a strange sight. Grall waved to the two riders, who drove their Ponygirls to Izzy and Grall. “Greetings, stranger,” said the older of the two. Izzy huffed because, as was to be expected, the goblin only spoke with Grall, and hardly paid attention to her. Why should you talk to a horse, she thought sarcastically. “I’m Krom, and the boy here is called Drex. And what’s your name?” “This is Buttercup, and I’m Grall,” he said. Izzy hated that he introduced her by that name, but in this situation it was probably appropriate. The two goblins laughed loudly, which irritated Grall and Izzy very much. Finally, Drex spoke, “You must be the first goblin on this island to name his ponygirl first, and then himself. It’s a beautiful animal, no question, you seem very proud of it.” Grall blushed and looked for an answer, but he didn’t seem to find one. As Izzy noticed, he slid around restlessly in the saddle. “All right, don’t worry, I would have sold my wife for such a beautiful ponygirl.” Now Izzy blushed. Goblins really did have a different taste than human-men. At least if you looked at a girl as an animal. “It’s a shame that you let her sweat so much. Why does she wear so many clothes, an animal has no shame.” “She’s still very new, it was easier that way,” Grall lied. “I see,” said Krom. “Did she break your leg?” “No, that was an accident.” “Ah, so. But you shouldn’t humanize a new ponygirl either, it’s not good for them. If you want to hear the advice of an experienced rider: With a ponygirl, it is best if you set the rules right away and clearly at the beginning. Then the animal can best adapt to it. Uncertainty makes them nervous and gives them stupid ideas; it makes everything harder. Be clear, fair, and tough if you have to.” “That is certainly correct,” said Grall. “I’ll remember that, thank you. See you.” “Not quite so fast,” Krom said, and his voice had lost some of its friendliness. “Where did you get this animal from anyway? Did you steal it from the humans?” He looked sharply at Grall. “I’m old enough to remember the war exactly. Many have died for peace, we have all lost something. You can’t just go to them and steal their daughters.” Izzy’s eyes twitched nervously back and forth. Should she say something now? Should she explain that she was here voluntarily? She was about to open her mouth, but Krom continued to speak. “Imagine her escaping you. Then she runs home and tells everyone. That would be a misfortune, wouldn’t it? Don’t be stupid. I caught my horse there too — there’s nothing like a horse that you have conquered for yourself with your own hands and a rope — but you have to be careful.” Krom’s ponygirl looked at Izzy sadly. The girl wasn’t old, maybe a few years older than Izzy, but she was branded and officially registered. There was no turning back for her. It was shocking to hear that she was once a free girl, that this Krom — despite peace and laws — had been snatched from its home. “W-W-What should I do?” stammered Grall. “She won’t run away, I know that.” “They all seem to be tame – until you’re not careful. My horse tried it many times. It wasn’t always nice to punish it.” His ponygirl neighed unhappily, and Krom laughed. “You also have to abide by the laws. Every ponygirl must always be tied up or controlled. Your horse lacks a bridle, especially the bit and reins.” Izzy trembled under Grall, who sensed this and stroked her shoulder reassuringly, but swallowed audibly, too. This ride went in an unexpected direction, Izzy was only too happy to get out of here, but that was probably not up for discussion. “Good, we — I — will get something.” Drex grinned. “You’re lucky, we still have a set here. We always have replacements with us, but since we’ll be home soon, we’ll give it to you.” He got off his ponygirl and searched in a saddlebag, from which he took a bridle including bit and reins. Everything was visibly old and much used, the sight disgusted Izzy. She certainly didn’t want to get too close to these things, or even have them on her head. She took a few steps back, and Drex looked at both of them seriously. He sprang forward and grabbed Izzy by the strap. She quickened up in surprise, but didn’t dare to do more. “Tack!” Drex said, but Izzy was too confused to react. “Tack, Buttercup. TACK!” Grall ordered and flicked her ear, which brought her out of her torpor. She looked around desperately, but then she got down on her knees, not without looking for help at Grall, who also seemed rather helpless. She trembled all over her body while Drex put the bridle over her head. It was a terrible feeling, constricting and utterly unpleasant. In addition, it smelled strong, of sweat and tears. He secured it behind her head, and it was clear that she couldn’t solve it without Grall’s help. She hoped that was all done – it was humiliating enough, after all – but of course the bit and reins were still missing. She was close to tears herself when Drex held the horse’s bit to her lips, but she gritted her teeth. There was a limit, this far and no further. She was not an animal that you could just… strong pain ran through her breast, and she howled with her mouth open as Drex routinely and firmly twisted her nipple. Her mouth was barely open when the bit wandered in and clicked into the holder of the bridle. The taste was disgusting, of dirt and old spit — Izzy had to gag. “With some animals, you have to help a little. You’ll learn these grips.” “Quiet, Buttercup, quiet,” Grall said, stroking her head sympathetically. That didn’t help Izzy at all, it just made her angrier, as did the weight of the reins on her bit, and the feeling of them being lifted over her head and landing in Grall’s hands. Her mind screamed loudly, but so deep in goblin land it was too dangerous to slip out of character, especially when you had a goblin in front of you who had already kidnapped a girl. Izzy’s saliva ran out of her mouth, the bit was horribly unfamiliar. She pressed against it with her tongue, but it didn’t move unless the reins demanded it. The wood was hard and rubbed unpleasantly over her teeth. “This is a normal horse bit, but for such an inexperienced horse I would recommend a practice bit, it makes steering a little easier. Now up with you,” Drex said, slapping Izzy on the bare bottom. What a humiliation, but already out of reflex, she obeyed. “Feels good with the reins in your hand, doesn’t it?” Grall nodded bashfully. Izzy wanted to look at him, but Grall pulled the other reins and she had to look ahead again, whether she wanted to or not. “They are such big and strong animals, but with the reins, we can steer them as we wish. It gives you a feeling of power.” He giggled. “Try it.” Izzy would have loved to see Grall’s face, but even so, she felt Grall’s kick and took a few steps forward. She expected an order with the trains, but at first, it was just straight ahead. Only when they were close to the first row of trees did Grall pull the reins and Izzy howled. “Not quite as strong, my friend,” Krom warned. “You don’t have to pull her head in that direction, it’s enough to show her where to go and how long to turn. Let go of the reins if she’s going in the right direction. They are clever animals, they would rather not run into a tree.” “Of course, thanks for the tip,” Grall answered, and Izzy didn’t like the fact that it sounded truly grateful. They rode on – Izzy had no doubt that she was really being ridden, and not just taking someone on her back – and they continued to practice for a while under the gaze of the two goblins. Her hooves made the well-known knock-knock-knock and Izzy finally felt like a horse for the first time, after all, she had all the signs of one. It was terrible, humiliating, and just plain wrong, but she couldn’t do anything about it. Krom seemed satisfied. “You two are naturals, a good team. She seems to be a born ponygirl, new ponies are otherwise not so tame and follow the reins so well. It must be in her blood. You have made a good choice, it will certainly serve you well for a long time. Where did you actually want to go?” Grall told them about the ruins, and the two goblins nodded. “It’s in our direction, we can ride together for a while.” And so they did. For more than an hour, the three of them rode together across the fields and roads, with Grall in the middle, who had a lot of fun. The three told jokes – especially about Ponygirls – and the two goblins talked about everyday life in this part of the world. Meanwhile, Izzy’s only contribution was that of a ponygirl: she had to carry Grall wherever he took her. She had nothing to say, and certainly no control. It was a new feeling to be ridden, and one she didn’t like very much. She couldn’t be further from freedom than she was here at this moment. The two other Ponygirls just stared blankly ahead. Finally, the path parted in front of them, and the two said goodbye. Izzy wanted to say goodbye out of habit, but nothing more than a murmur came out of it. Nevertheless, the two laughed as if a talking ponygirl were the funniest thing they could imagine. Izzy lowered her eyebrows, but the evil gaze of an animal didn’t seem to impress the goblin men. “One last tip: You should take care of your mare’s mane. Such wild hair is disturbing. A good tail could certainly be made from that.” Grall pushed Izzy a little further until the men were completely out of reach, then he stopped Izzy with the reins. “Are you okay?” he asked cautiously, letting go of the reins. Izzy tried to talk through the bit, but it was useless, except murmurs and a few incomprehensible shreds. Like everything that day, it was very irritating. “I don’t know how to put the bit back in, and out here we should leave it in. You heard what they said.” Izzy stomped, but Grall just shrugged. “If you like, we can turn around. We’re almost there, but I understand if you don’t feel like it any more.” He looked at her questioningly, and Izzy thought hard. “Do you want to go back?” She shook her head, but it wasn’t an easy decision. “Good, then move on.” He kicks her lightly in the side, which he didn’t seem to notice any more. The next half hour was uneventful, and to Izzy’s relief, Grall let go of the reins, only occasionally pulling lightly on one side when he wanted to draw her attention to something, and otherwise using words as usual to lead her on the right track. But soon he added the reins to the words, and sometimes he omitted the words altogether. At last, they reached the ruins, but to their disappointment they were not worth the long journey. There was hardly anything to see, and anyway, it had probably been more of a small camp than a real castle. They found a broken sword, but there was nothing there for Izzy to suffer such humiliation today. Grall had jumped off, limping ahead and leading Izzy behind him by the reins, although it was completely unnecessary. When nothing was to be found, Izzy let him mount again. “It’s a shame, but we can’t always be lucky.” Izzy grumbled, everything today seemed to bring her bad luck. Grall steered her around with the reins and gave her a little kick to get her moving. To her shame, she had to admit that these commands work quite well. Soon she was running like the wind down a street, and thanks to the reins, it was no problem that she could hardly understand him due to the rustling in her ears. They often had to struggle with this on the last ride, but now at least this problem was solved by this horrible horse bit. Still, she will never have it in her mouth again, she was sure of that. On a slower part, Grall leaned forward and hugged her neck. “Thank you for doing this for me. I know how unpleasant the bit must be. You’re my best friend.” Izzy sighed. Her holidays are losing very differently than she had expected. The Washing Arriving behind the barn, Grall hurriedly took the horse’s bit out of Izzy’s mouth. She stretched her aching jaw and took a deep breath. “This is an instrument of pure torture. Who comes up with something like that?” “Riders?” Grall answered cheekily and loosened the buckles from the saddle and laid it in a corner. Izzy was able to get the bridle off her head herself after finding the safety catch on the back of her head. Grall held his hands in front of his face when he noticed that her bra and underwear had not survived the ride well. Blindly, he handed her the dress. Of course, he’d seen a lot of ponygirls naked — that was their normal state — but Izzy was his best friend, whom he’d known since childhood, and that made it different. “That’s not funny. Burn this disgusting thing. Don’t you dare come near me with that again!” “Absolutely not, that’s junk. My father doesn’t allow something like that on the farm.” He handed her some water so that she could rinse the taste out of her mouth. “Are we going riding again tomorrow?” “But not with this horse bit!” “Understood, I’m going to throw it in the garbage right away.” Izzy was satisfied with that, also because she had missed the word “riding”. “But we were fast, you have to admit that.” She grumbled. “Yes, but it was still humiliating. Do you still have a goal?” “Sure, dozens! The whole area is full of ruins. But I have to warn you, most of them are on the goblin side. Think about it. If you want to continue, we’ll meet here again tomorrow morning.” — The night was restless for Izzy. Her dreams revolved around riding and being ridden. She almost felt the bit in her mouth, and the reins on her shoulders. She woke up in the middle of the night soaked in sweat and realized that she probably wouldn’t be able to get this topic out of her head so quickly. To her surprise, they hadn’t even been nightmares; instead, she ran free as the wind across the fields, hearing the loud laughter of Grall in her ears as goblins stood on the side of the road and clapped. What a bunch of crazy dreams. — The next morning, Izzy ran overtired towards Oozol’s farm. She’d had the wildest dreams as a ponygirl all night, and now she was ready to try it again. Only this terrible bit certainly didn’t come into her mouth any more, the taste was still on her tongue. “Careful, please!” a goblin shouted behind her, and Izzy made way for a group of riders on their ponygirls. Something tingled in her stomach when she saw the reins, saddles, bits and boots, which she had now come to know in a very intimate way. She must have looked a lot like those ponygirls yesterday, only the branding, the registration number, and the tail – she blushed even thinking about the possibility – really set them apart. She took a deep breath and looked at the horses again. “Oh, do you dream of being ridden one day?” It was Grunhilda’s nasty voice, and she wasn’t alone. Some of her friends stood with her at the side of the road and laughed at Izzy. Izzy clenched her fists, but she also felt strangely caught. She was sure nobody could see the dreams on the tip of anyone’s nose, but on the other side, she had also stared quite a bit… “Certainly, she doesn’t have to dream of it. She has this goblin, Grall. She is his little mare. He’s ridden her, for sure, just look how red she gets. I bet she’ll go to him now and get the reins put on.” “How do you know…” She bit her tongue, but it was too late, she had blabbed in a stupid way. The girls burst out laughing, and Izzy couldn’t think of anything better than to just run away. She didn’t stop until she was crouching in the shade behind Oozol’s shed, tears shooting from her eyes. What was wrong with her? She just wanted to help her best friend, and now everyone would think that she… well, exactly what she did to him. If she were honest, Grunhilda wouldn’t think anything of her that wasn’t true. But she had never wanted anyone to know about it. A rough hand stroked her head. “Shhh, everything’s fine,” Grall whispered and only stopped when Izzy sniffed loudly and looked at him with red eyes. Why had that worked, she asked herself. Wasn’t this just how animals were treated? She told him what had happened, and he listened, as befits a good friend. Only when she was done did he say something. “That was just a slip of the tongue. They have no proof and will have forgotten it tomorrow. These stupid chickens cluck all day. Don’t worry.” Izzy nodded and wiped away her tears. “Ready for a new ride, Buttercup?” “Don’t do that” She didn’t have the strength for more than that. He shook his head. “In Goblin Land, you have to play your part. It’s easier if we start right away, or we’ll have a problem. It can be dangerous if they don’t think you’re my ponygirl.” Izzy bit her lower lip. As much as she hated to admit it, but if they really wanted to cross the border again, he was probably right. “All right, but only when we … ride out… otherwise, not!” It was not a good compromise, but she had endured worse in the last few days. She pulled the dress over her head, but this time she was not wearing any underwear, which almost gave Grall a heart attack. “Don’t be so prudish, you’ve seen many ponygirls naked. On the last ride, my clothes suffered too much, I can’t pay for that.” Nevertheless, she held her arms in front of her breasts and between her legs until Grall had lifted the saddle onto her back. She sighed when she had to put her arms back; now she was completely unprotected, but of course, she had expected that. Grall’s hands trembled like leaves whenever he even brushed her breasts, and he was more nervous than he had been in years when he had to reach between her legs. Izzy was also a bit restless, now that the strap rubbed directly between her legs — no fabric offered her protection. But she just didn’t have enough underwear to ruin one every day. “And wash the saddle every day.” Grall nodded with a red head, his ears twitched wildly. Finally, he was done and as exhausted as after a long race. Izzy was still kneeling in front of him, but her bare breasts almost jumped out at him. The straps of the saddle pushed her forward, as with all ponygirls. He helped her into the pony boots and held something up. “We need that.” In his hand, he held a brand-new bridle. The straps were shiny and visibly unworn. “Otherwise, we will attract attention again.” “No way, I told you to throw the stuff away! Aren’t you listening to me?” “Yes, and I put it in the garbage as promised. You won’t see any of the two goblins’ stuff again,” he explained. “This is brand new. I know it’s uncomfortable, but otherwise we stand out. And it’s dangerous for a girl so far in Goblin Land, you’ve heard that. If we do it, you’ll have to dress up.” She took a deep breath, her heart calmed down, and her anger slowly subsided. “Don’t tell anyone about this!” Reluctantly, the bridle was put on. Unlike the one from the two riders, however, it smelled quite pleasant, a little like … she sighed when she realized that it was the smell of buttercups. Grall laughed when he noticed that she recognized the smell. “The most beautiful smell in the world, if you ask me.” Izzy wasn’t so sure, but in the end, it was his bridle – or hers, depending on how you looked at it. She opened her mouth to tell him something about it when, to her shock, he put a new horse bit in her mouth, which immediately snapped into place on the bridle. She shook her head wildly, and Grall sprang back in fear. “What are you doing?” he asked, waiting for Izzy to calm down. “You agreed to the bridle. A bit is part of it so that the reins work. It’s a new bit, I bought it this morning especially for you, it’s your bit, no other horse will wear it. I promise!” Izzy still glared at him wickedly, especially for the “other horse” stuff. Now she already had her own horse bit. That was madness! Nevertheless, she tried to calm down, after all, he wasn’t entirely wrong. She tried to feel the bit with her tongue, but she held something metallic down. “It’s a practice bit for inexperienced horses like you, who have to get used to the reins first. When I pull the reins, a plate presses on the palate and tongue depending on the direction, so it’s easier for you to notice my commands.” He seemed very proud, as if that was a good idea, and not just another stupid torture device to treat her like an animal. Izzy grumbled dissatisfied. “I don’t have another one, but I’ll take it out, and we’ll break off for today.” Izzy shook her head and finally let the reins be put on, completing her transformation from an unloved girl to an – it seemed – admired ponygirl. Or so Izzy thought because now Grall took another pen out of his pocket. “We will fake the registration number, too” He hurriedly drew a number on the upper half of her right breast, which was now freely accessible thanks to Izzy’s courage. He had great difficulty not to ruin the number with his trembling. In the end, it wasn’t perfect, but it would certainly deceive most, at least at a distance. Izzy looked down and neighed — she didn’t know another word to describe the sound the bit forced her to make — when she realized that he had painted her with his birthday as the registration number. It was one more step towards being just an animal, and she felt even more like “his horse” now that she wore his number clearly visible on her bosom. If someone saw her now, she would no doubt sink directly into the ground. Meanwhile, she wasn’t even sure if she really found the ruins THAT exciting to go to all this effort. But Grall was obviously having fun, and as a good friend, she would rather not be the killjoy. “Wait, I still have a surprise.” He grinned and pulled down his shirt and pointed to a number he had painted on his own flat chest: It was Izzy’s birthday, which he knew well, of course. She grinned. “Best friends forever,” he said, hugging her. He awkwardly climbed into the saddle because of his broken leg and spurred her on with a small kick as he had done normally, while he steered her with the reins without words. Izzy realized that this was her first real ride as a ponygirl and rider, after all, they were already starting with the reins, and Grall was in full control. The practice bit was very unfamiliar, the metal tasted – well, like metal – and she had to follow the reins immediately if she didn’t want the metal to press painfully into the roof of her mouth or tongue. Grall also had to learn to be even more careful with the reins. Even a small pull was enough to control Izzy. It was obvious that the practice bit taught both how to well, and Izzy soon reacted instinctively to the reins, and was otherwise able to let her thoughts wander freely during the ride. It was a new feeling, as if she was a passenger herself on this ride because direction and speed came as if automatically. She only had to get used to the lack of her bra. Her breasts swung freely with every step, and since she was well-endowed, it was a very new feeling. But she would get used to that too, she was sure by now. The ride to the ruins was uneventful. They kept bumping into other goblins and their ponygirls, but Izzy didn’t seem to be unusual — just one of the animals, nothing else. At best, Grall got some praise for his ponygirl, but no one had any doubt that she was real. For Izzy, this was a strange experience that was not on her wish list but had now come true, nonetheless. Unfortunately, the ruins were a flop again, but both had got used to it by now, and at Izzy’s pace it was still only a lost day; if someone could see a ride on a bright summer day as a loss. Even Izzy enjoyed the weather and the run. However, the journey had taken longer than expected, and the way back was no shorter. It was already dark, and Izzy was completely exhausted before they were near the village. For once, Izzy was relieved that she could rely on the reins. Her eyelids were heavy and fell shut again and again, while her burning legs galloped over the hard ground as if by themselves. “We’ll be home in a minute, then you can rest,” Grall said and steered her on. Sporadically, he gave her a little kick when she slowed down. She wasn’t mad at him; she could really use some encouragement right now. It was only a few meters to the shed, but a voice froze Izzy as if to ice. “There you are at last; I thought you were lost.” It was Oozol who was standing next to the shed and running towards her. Izzy would really have liked to sink into the ground, but unfortunately, the earth didn’t do her that favour. Oozol looked strangely angry as he took the reins from Grall. Izzy watched at him anxiously – was he mad at her disguise? Was that possible? But instead, he just patted her on the butt in a friendly way, as he did – she had often seen this – with most ponygirls. This thought made Izzy tremble even more, she could only stay on her feet with difficulty, mostly because she was exhausted. “Tack,” Oozol said, and Izzy almost fell to her knees from exhaustion. As soon as Grall had dismounted clumsily from Izzy, Oozol pulled his ears out – not only as a proverb; the goblin boy danced around howling, while his father almost lifted him by the ears into the air. “You are a terrible horseman, my son. Look at her, you’ve completely overworked her. It’s probably time to teach you how to ride properly.” He let go of Grall and shook his head. “Surely, you think you already know everything, but your father knows a few tricks. Take her reins and come with me. The poor thing needs some rest. I’ll show you how to take care of your ponygirl.” Izzy was too tired to oppose – and thanks to the bit she was unable to do so – and trotted powerlessly after the limping Grall, as the reins demanded. Still, she was sure that currently she looked like any other ponygirl who had been led across the court by her reins over the years. The path led across the large practice area to a building that Izzy didn’t know yet. Oozol took the reins and tied them to a stake, to Izzy’s surprise — Izzy hoped, probably out of habit. “After every ride, you have to wash your ponygirl,” Oozol said. “It’s not just about removing the dirt; you also have to take care of their tired muscles. You borrow their power while riding, and that’s the least you can give back for it. Always be good to the animals you use.” Grall’s eyes widened. “But that’s why we have grooms!” “Is the fine gentleman too fine to get his fingers dirty after a ride? Look at your horse, you’ve demanded a lot from her. A little warm water is the least. If you can ride, you can also wash!” “Of course, it’s just…” he stammered and looked at Izzy embarrassed. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m well aware that it’s strange for both of you, I can see that in your eyes. But you’ve decided to explore the world as a rider and a horse,” he taps the surprised Izzy on the breast, exactly on the painted number, “then you have to finish it. Did you send Buttercup home dirty the last few rides?” He looked at his son sternly, but it was Izzy who was almost frozen in shock. How did the old goblin know this name? She also looked sternly at Grall, who was getting smaller and smaller under the gaze of father and horse. “I’m sorry. That won’t happen again. Promised. I will take better care of Buttercup in the future.” There was that name, and Izzy stomped angrily, but Oozol seemed to interpret her reaction differently. “You see, she agrees. Where did you get all the stuff from? You didn’t help yourself to our supplies, did you?” Grall shook his head hurriedly. “No, I would never do that! I bought everything new for her.” Oozol seemed satisfied. “Excellent. Maybe you’re not as hopeless as I always thought. Even though you’ve overworked her a bit, I’m relieved that you’ve finally become a ponygirl rider. I was afraid that you didn’t like riding in general, but now I see that you were interested in our Isabel.” He patted Izzy several times on her bare buttocks again. “You couldn’t have chosen a better animal. It’s difficult to find good livestock these days.” Izzy neighed, if not in agreement, but Oozol interpreted it differently again. “Come on, she’s getting impatient. It’s late, too.” Izzy looked around the corner and saw Saxea, who was watching her with wide eyes. “May I help? I’ve washed many horses!” “Not with this horse,” Oozol said. “She’s a friend of Grall, you know her.” Saxea nodded, but something seemed to be on the tip of her tongue. “Why is she a ponygirl now, did you catch her? Will you give her to me?” Izzy snorted angrily. Oozol laughed. “It’s… complicated. Go now, you still have some chores to do, don’t you?” The little girl grumbled and left, for which Izzy was deeply grateful. She didn’t need any more spectators, especially none who wanted her as a gift. The two goblins fetched warm water, sponges, and soap. The first thing they did was take the saddle from her, although Oozol was not as hesitant as his son. The saddle was quickly down, and the two goblins cleaned it thoroughly, while Izzy stood tied to the pole almost completely naked in the yard. It was a strange experience, also because some grooms looked over at her. Of course, they recognized her, after all, she was the best friend of the owner’s son and well known in the village. Izzy could only hope that they would shut up, but she wasn’t sure. After the saddle was clean, Oozol spoke directly to Izzy. “It will certainly be unfamiliar to you, but please join in. My son has to learn it, and then can wash you in the future after all your rides.” It sounded to him as if there would be many more to follow today’s ride, and Izzy wasn’t sure if she really wanted to be used as a mount for so long. But there was a certainty in Oozol’s voice that made Izzy feel very insecure. “To make sure he learns it properly, we do it like with every ponygirl.” He handed Grall a few handcuffs and shackles. They tied her hands behind her back, then they took off her pony boots, which were also washed thoroughly. Then Grall put the ankle shackles on her, between which a strong but short ribbon was stretched, which allowed only short stumbling steps. “That’s for safety when you’re working close to a ponygirls legs. Their strong legs can be deadly for a goblin.” Izzy hated that he was talking about “their legs”, but maybe he was just referring to humans in general? Next, he gave Grall a collar with a leash, which he put on her and secured to the stake. Only then was she freed from the bridle and bit and washed both. “Please don’t say anything so that it remains realistic.” Izzy nodded silently, but it was still a good feeling to have control over her mouth again. She stretched her jaw in all directions, and her tongue could wander freely again. “The collar is more for practical reasons, so that the horse doesn’t wander around. The ankle shackles are more important. When washing, you always start at the top. Tack!” Izzy knelt down without hesitation — something she was slightly ashamed of — and Grall poured some warm water over her head. It was a wonderful feeling, like a bucket full of sunbeams. She felt the first dirt flowing with the water on the floor. “Please close your eyes, the soap is not very pleasant. Most ponies learn that quickly, but I’d rather warn you.” Grall took a sponge full of soap and spread it generously in Izzy’s felty hair. “Your mane needs some love. We should take care of that soon.” Grall also washed her face, neck, arms, and shoulders with the soapy water, but then he stopped. “What’s going on?” asked Oozol. Grall was so tense that Izzy feared that he would break his bones. “She is… so… I don’t know if…” “You humanize her too much. When she’s out there as a girl, it’s certainly different. But here she is your ponygirl.” Oozol grabbed Izzy’s right breast with one hand without asking. He squeezed her slightly, but only in such a way that it was still comfortable for Izzy, apart from the fact that he was groping her without even asking first. “Hey!” she finally said and leaned back, causing her chest to slip out of Oozol’s hand “If you want to ride into Goblin Land, and Isabel here –” he emphasized her name conspicuously clearly, as if to make a point clear, “– doesn’t look like a real ponygirl, then you’re both in danger. What if someone claims Buttercup –” Izzy hadn’t failed to notice that he was now using her ponygirl name again “– for himself? If you want to continue, then take the matter seriously. You two are the most important things in the world to me, too important to put you in danger. Isabel, you took your first steps before my eyes – I will never forget how proud your father was.” Izzy swallows, she hadn’t known that the old goblin felt that way for her. When Oozol stretched out his hand again, she grimaced and rolled her eyes. If it was really just about their safety…. Nevertheless, it cost her some effort. She leaned forward and placed her chest in his rough green hand. Oozol nodded contentedly and beckoned his son over, who took her other breast in his hand. It was surreal for Izzy to have these two goblins knead their breasts in the open courtyard in plain sight, but it eased the situation for all three; nevertheless, she was grateful when the two of them stopped, as she was slowly getting a little warm in her crotch. Grall took the sponge again and began to wash Izzy’s breasts, stomach and back. He seemed to have completely lost his shame, and with vigorous rubbing, he made sure that everything about her there was sparkling clean. He moistened the sponge again, and Izzy howled in surprise as he went right between her legs. She looked down at him, but he was completely absorbed in his task of washing his horse. He rubbed the sponge back and forth, and Izzy was about to make it clear to him that he took his work a little too seriously. Luckily, he wandered on to her wide buttocks, where he had enough to do. Finally, her legs and feet followed, then she stood clean again as on the first day in front of the two goblins, who judged her work with satisfaction. Or Izzy herself, she wasn’t quite sure. In any case, she pressed her legs tightly together, even so it was uncomfortable enough for her that the two of them had obviously noticed her enthusiasm for washing. Oozol was a professional, but Grall still giggled like a little girl behind his hand. Oozol untied the knot of the leash and handed it to Grall, who led Izzy – who could only follow him with small steps thanks to the shackles – slowly to two long troughs. One was filled with water, the other with ponygirl food. “Do you really want me to…” Izzy began, but Oozol silenced her with a shht. “If you are on the road for a longer period of time, you may have to adapt to local habits. And ponygirls are not allowed into taverns. Don’t expect a warm bed or a table in a pub when you go riding and have to stay overnight somewhere. Indeed, Grall will get all of that, but not you. Horses belong in the stable.” Izzy’s stomach rumbled, she hadn’t eaten or drunk anything for many hours, and the hunger and thirst was greater than the shame. Grall tied her to a post between the two troughs. She got down on her knees and put her head into the trough of water. It was challenging to drink in this way, but it was not impossible either. Then, under the watchful eye of Oozol and Grall, she went over to the feeding trough and managed to get some food into her mouth without using her hands. It was humiliating, and to make matters worse, the food didn’t taste very good, but it wasn’t to be expected that anyone would take that into consideration. “Take your time, we’ll go out to eat something ourselves. We would share with you, but our goblin food is simply indigestible for you. This food is the only thing we have for ponygirls,” Oozol said. “And don’t worry about the grooms, I’ll make sure they don’t tell anything. Thank you for being willing to adapt to our traditions.” He left her alone with that. Izzy watched them in surprise as they disappeared into Oozol’s house. Traditions? Was that what it was all about. Was it just a goblin tradition to use girls as mounts? Just that, a tradition of how others celebrated the New Year or painted their doors blue? Through the window, she saw how they both set the table and ate a pleasant dinner. She grumbled discontentedly and then continued to eat herself, she probably wouldn’t get more here today. An hour later, a groom came to her, loosened her shackles and handed her her human clothes. She dressed in a hurry and disappeared through the large gate and ran home, confused and uncertain. Nature calls The next morning, Izzy’s legs trembled as she marched across the yard. Oozol waved to her friendly, but Izzy tried to ignore him. The experiences of yesterday were still deep in her bones, she could even feel his rough hands on her breasts – at least that’s what she imagined, and that was just as bad in the end. How could he be so relaxed after seeing her naked, touching her and washing her, she wondered. But it was of no use, politeness commanded her to go to him and talk to him. Grall was nowhere to be seen anyway, and she certainly didn’t want to just stand aimlessly in a yard where she had been seen naked by everyone yesterday. “Come to me, Isabel. How are you?” he asked in a good mood. So, he was serious and made a strict distinction between Isabel, the girl, and Buttercup, the horse, she thought. “Good, I think,” Izzy croaked, her voice cracking, and she almost choked on her tongue. “Beautiful day… right?” The old goblin smiled. “You could say that. Anyway, warm enough that you would like to run around naked, am I right? But that’s only for ponygirls.” Izzy nodded, embarrassed under his sharp gaze. “How are things going for you at school, apart from the school holidays. Are your grades good?” This questioning irritated Izzy deeply. Yesterday she stood naked in front of him, as nature had created her, while he and his son kneaded her breasts, and now he wanted to know something about her school, as if none of it had happened? Goblins were sometimes strange; No, actually, most of the time. “Quite good, I think. This is my last year, then I’ll be done.” “Very nice, a good education is important, that’s why we always train our ponygirls so well. Ah, here comes my son.” Like Izzy, Grall also seemed a bit overwhelmed. He didn’t look her in the eye, instead he studied the exciting pebbles on the floor. “Hello Izzy,” he said and coughed. “Do you want to … go riding today?” Izzy swallowed. Of course, he had to ask. But after yesterday’s experience, that wasn’t something she really wanted right now. Especially not when it led to her being washed naked by Grall again. It wasn’t even the humiliation that stopped her, it was more the question whether she might like it at some point. “Maybe we’ll just walk?” She looked embarrassed at his cast and ignored his disappointed look. “There you see, you’ve overworked her. Now she no longer wants to do it,” warned Oozol, who was probably blind to the truth. “Ride her a little more carefully in the future. Well, you two certainly have a lot to discuss, I’ll go to the other horses. But I would like to tell you one more thing: This whole situation is visibly uncomfortable for you. That’s silly, though, it’s quite simple: Isabel is a human, and Buttercup is a ponygirl. You must learn that humans and ponygirls have nothing in common, at least not for us goblins. You can only be one or the other at a time. In the end, this has brought us peace with the humans; do not dilute this line, that would be dangerous. Isabel here is a human to me, there’s no doubt about that. But if you put the saddle on her, I will treat her as a ponygirl, and I recommend that you do the same, my son.” He didn’t want to know Izzy’s opinion on this, before she could say anything, he got up and went to the stables. — “Where are we going?” asked Izzy. She followed Grall through the dense undergrowth. “You didn’t want to ride today, so we have to spend the day differently.” His voice sounded a bit reproachful, but yesterday’s experiences were still too deep in her bones, and she needed some distance. Grall kept grimacing as he walked — he limped slowly over the forest floor with his broken leg and avoided the branches and bushes. “Have you always been so slow?” Izzy asked cheekily and ran ahead. Grall called after her, but she didn’t listen. Since her rides — she shivered at the thought — Izzy hadn’t been used to running so slowly. She got faster and after a few meters she almost ran. The wind blew through her long straw-like hair, and she only looked ahead, into the distance – whatever might be there. Her mind paused for a moment, and she ran straight ahead without even looking to the side. A large tree appeared in front of her, but she made no move to run around it — she didn’t even slow down when the tree approached dangerously; why doesn’t he steer me around him, she thought, but she woke up too late from her little dream. She ran into the tree with full force and fell backwards to the ground. She lay breathless on the withered leaves for a moment before rubbing her head and sighing loudly. Had she just kissed a tree because she had forgotten that she wasn’t ridden by Grall? That’s precisely why she had to take a break, it all just became too normal for her! It took Grall a few minutes to catch up with her. He looked at the bump. “What was that about?” “Don’t ask,” she hissed, but Grall grinned dirtily — he could probably read minds. “Come on, Buttercup, we’re almost there.” She grumbled angrily, but she had probably earned the name through this nonsense, but it still brought back unwelcome memories. The experiences of the last few days had changed a lot, even now, the dress felt unfamiliar on her skin, even though she had only been a ponygirl for a few days. Could she have got used to it so quickly? She had even chosen a very short dress so that at least her legs remained free, she usually only wore it when she was alone — it was quite provocative, even her buttocks were not completely covered by it. Now that she was walking next to Grall, she also realized that it wasn’t a good choice in this case: the hem was still above his head, and it wasn’t good for hiding anything from the prying eyes of such a small goblin. “We’re here,” he said when they arrived at a small clearing with low grass. He reached under her dress and patted her on the buttocks. She was shocked, he hadn’t done anything like that before… but he hadn’t washed her between her legs before either; he must have believed that he now had the right to do so. She slapped his hand away anyway and shook her head. “I’m not your ponygirl, don’t forget that!” she said sternly, and he just nodded. “But we’re still friends, aren’t we?” “The best. But keep your fingers to yourself. Look, there’s a nice spot up there.” She spread a blanket directly into the sun and lay down lengthwise on it. Grall walked next to her on the blanket and pressed himself against her. That was also new, but Izzy just sighed and scratched his head, which he acknowledged with a pleasant hum. “Do you sometimes think about the future?” He closed his eyes and enjoyed her crawl. “Every day. My father doesn’t give me a choice either. He absolutely wants me to take over the horse farm. He never asked if I wanted to do that at all.” “Isn’t that a good offer? It’s the biggest farm in the whole area.” “Yes… but it’s also a lot of work,” he sighed. “What else would you want to do?” Grall did not answer immediately. She saw him chewing on his lower lip. Finally, he found the courage. “Ride on you through the world.” Izzy didn’t stop scratching him. They were best friends, and honesty was important. “Why does it have to be me? You have a lot of other ponygirls.” Now, she had even described herself as a ponygirl… Again, Grall thought for a long time. “You’re better than them. Better than all of them. As a ponygirl and as a friend. You’re faster than them, you have more stamina, and you look better.” Izzy blushed, and breathed faster, which Grall didn’t miss. “I can’t talk to them either. If I rode out with them, I would still be all alone. With you, I always have my best friend with me. It’s the best of both worlds.” “I understand,” was all Izzy said about it. And she really did. It all made sense to him. It was a complete picture, and Izzy only had to become his animal, his ponygirl. It was easy for him, he wouldn’t give up anything, just gain something. The two were silent for a while until Grall asked: “And what do you dream of?” He had asked her this question before, but she had never had a good answer. “I want to be more than just a horse,” she said. “But is it enough that you don’t want to be something?” “First, I want to finish school. I’m good at that… except in maths, of course. But I can read and write well.” “And we both love history,” he added. “But what do you want to do with it?” “Maybe I’ll become a trader?” Grall laughed. “Traders in particular must be able to calculate well.” “Or I can look for a handsome husband, become a housewife and take care of the children.” Grall grimaced. “And that’s supposed to be better than being a ponygirl? Where is the freedom in that? Where do you use your schooling to cook soups and stews? And besides…” He bit his tongue and did not say the rest; there was no need to hurt her feelings. Izzy looked at the clouds. Maybe there was just no good place for her in this world. Both simply lay in the clearing for a few hours and slept a bit. It was a quiet moment, without major worries — just two friends spending some time together. Grall dreamed firmly, meanwhile his head was on her stomach; he looked almost like a little green child, and a strange desire arose in Izzy to protect this little creature. Did she have motherly feelings for her best friend? She continued to watch him as he slept until voices could be heard from behind the trees. It was Bastian and his friends. She jumped up and Grall flew half a meter and rolled through the grass. “That hurt!” He rubbed his head and looked at her sleepily. “Shhh,” she said, holding her finger in front of her mouth. Grall’s ears went up and he nodded. They crept up to the trees and peered through the undergrowth. In front of them, as expected, Bastian and his friends walked by. Bastian was the tallest of them, and the only one of the boys who towered over Izzy. She wouldn’t admit it, but that’s another reason why she liked him. “What do you see in him?” asked Grall, for whom all human men were formless, as he had explained to Izzy several times. Where were the appealing ears, the hair on the tips so popular with goblin women, the long claws, the scales or at least a little green on the skin? Humans always look so pale. “You human women at least have interesting curves.” He suddenly fell silent. “You don’t understand,” she said, but if she was completely honest, she wasn’t sure herself. Apart from its size, there were so many small things… his voice, his hair, his eyes, even his fingers. And how he smelled! But was he really that different from others? She leaned forward a little to see more, but almost lost her balance and broke a branch. “Did you hear that?” asked one of Bastian’s friends. Izzy retreated behind the tree, her heart pounding. She was not willing to talk to Bastian here and now! “Probably just a bird. Behind the trees is a nice meadow, let’s set up camp there.” The friends came right up to her. Izzy grabbed the surprised Grall and ran. She didn’t look back, instead she almost flew over the grass and swept through the undergrowth as if the devil himself was after her. The already short dress got caught in the branches and entire strips were torn out. Grall tried to stop her, but Izzy was trapped in her own head. It wasn’t until 10 minutes later that she ran out of breath; she stopped and let him down. “That was silly,” he grumbled, raising his eyebrows at the sight of her dress. There were only a few shreds left, her underwear was also torn, and red welts ran across her legs, where the branches had maltreated her. “That doesn’t look good, we should go to my father, we have to treat it with salve.” Izzy’s eyes cleared again, and she looked down at herself as her best friend examined her naked abdomen. She was terribly embarrassed, but at least he’d already seen her naked — and more. But then she was a ponygirl, and now she was a normal girl. She held her hands in front of her legs and turned away. “What are you doing?” asked an unknown voice. Izzy looked around, and only now did she notice that she was standing in the middle of a street. Her eyes widened in shock; the voice belonged to one of Oozol’s grooms. “You don’t have to be ashamed, there’s nothing I haven’t seen with hundreds of other ponygirls.” “Hello Gribat,” Grall greeted him. “Please don’t tell anyone about this.” “My lips are sealed, even though I don’t understand why your horse is wearing a broken dress. And why are her legs so bruised? Your father won’t like to see something like that, you know his opinion on animal cruelty. He didn’t become the biggest dealer of ponygirls through cruelty, I can tell you that.” As always, when someone thought she was a ponygirl, the goblin didn’t talk to her directly. But Izzy wasn’t ready to play along today. “It was just a minor accident,” she said, staring at him. Gribat raised an eyebrow. A talking ponygirl was probably suspicious to him. “Good, as far as I’m concerned. But go to the farm anyway, you don’t want the injuries to get infected, do you? The vet won’t be back for a few days, be careful.” He patted Izzy on the bare bottom and said goodbye. Grall took her hand. “He’s right. I know a shortcut.” “Wait,” Izzy said, lifting the dress over her head. Now she was completely naked. “It was torn apart anyway.” Grall had already suspected that she was not wearing a bra either. He looked at the number on her bosom with a grin. Before he could say anything, Izzy picked him up and pressed him to her chest, as you would with a toddler. He blushed but put up with it – with a mock protest. Izzy felt that tingling in her stomach again. Maybe it was her maternal instincts, or maybe not. She ran off and followed Grall’s instructions, while his head pressed lightly against her bosom with every step. She walked through the forest, and for the first time in days she was really a human being – albeit naked. — They didn’t repeat the trip the next few days — the walking was too strenuous for Grall and Izzy just didn’t want to sneak around like that. Both were bored. Without the long rides, something seemed to be missing; Grall was also unbearable, half the time he just grumbled or looked for a reason to start an argument. Izzy suspected that things couldn’t go on like this. “Fine, but just a short ride, alright?” she offered in the morning, and felt the saddle on her back faster than she could think about it again. Her friend was clearly well-prepared. Grall nodded. “Unless you like it, then we can go a little further, right?” “Don’t challenge your luck. Hey, what’s that on the saddle?” Something hard and cold hit Izzy against the side. “Stirrups!” said Grall, visibly proud. “They were still missing, now my legs don’t dangle too much, and I can get into the saddle better. Great, isn’t it? Makes me look like a real horse rider, don’t you think?” “If you think so…” Izzy grumbled, shaking at the feel of the metal. It was bad enough to carry a saddle, but now Grall added things to make the rides even more pleasant for himself. “But that stupid paint on my chest won’t come off!” Izzy scolded, while Grall fumbled the strap between her globes. As always, she felt warm in her crotch, but at the same time, she was too angry to think about it. “It’s already been a few days, and the numbers haven’t faded one bit! I tried it with extra soap and scrubbing… didn’t do anything except hurt my chest!” “Shall I give it a try?” he offered and grinned broadly. “But seriously, that’s the point of it. If it could be washed off easily, it wouldn’t fool anyone! Imagine I’m riding you through the forest and the paint is wiped away by the rain or sweat.” “But how do I get rid of it later when we don’t ride to the ruins any more?” He avoided her gaze. “Don’t even think about it! I’m not your ponygirl. This is only temporary! With the number, I can no longer go swimming with the others. They’re laughing at me!” “You never did that before,” Grall grumbled. “Only with me.” “Good, but it’s still not right.” “I’m sorry, but if you really want to go swimming, you can go down to the lake with us.” Izzy raised an eyebrow. “Don’t your ponygirls go swimming there when you let them out to pasture?” “Exactly.” Grall nodded eagerly. “You wouldn’t be noticed.” She crossed her arms under her chest. “And you really don’t find anything unusual about this idea?” He thought for a moment, but shook his head. “You should be naked, but you know that by now. It is the best swimming lake in the whole area. People often complain that it’s wasted on the livestock.” Izzy rolled her eyes and left it at that. “Wait here, I’ll get your things.” Izzy looked after him thoughtfully. The washing was a few days ago, but it seemed like an eternity ago. Maybe that’s why she had let herself be persuaded again to let him ride her to a ruin. Or was she maybe even missing it? Her excursions on foot had always been enough for her in the past, but now something was lacking … She leaned over a fence and watched the ponygirls do their exercises as everyone froze. Izzy’s eyes widened, too. Gribat led a magnificent stallion – he was completely naked except for his shackles and a collar – across the yard, and all the ponygirls stared after him. His strong muscles twitched with every step, but most of the gagged ladies probably didn’t notice that. Like Izzy, her eyes were almost entirely fixed on his abdomen, and there was no doubt that he not only enjoyed the attention, but that it aroused him. He only looked a little older than Izzy, and his self-assurance took her breath away. His firm steps seemed to shake the ground. Above all, however, her heart inherited in a way that she had not felt even with Bastian before. A loud snap brought her back to reality. “I thought that your standards were a little higher,” he said scratchily. Was he jealous? “Shut up. I was just curious.” “You stared at him like a piece of livestock. And I don’t mean him.” “And if so, he’s a man.” “He’s a horse. A pony boy. An animal. You heard my father; this distinction is important.” Izzy gave him an angry look, and said nothing more. She waited for his “tack” and got down on her knees, where he put the rest of the equipment on her. But she was ringing in her thoughts. “You stupid cow,” it screamed in her head. “How can you stare at an animal? He’s just a horse… Like me?” She shook herself as the horse’s bit wandered into her mouth. They had developed a real routine together, and now it went quickly. He led her to the square and was about to get into the saddle, but his father stopped him. “My son, I have a surprise for you.” The old goblin beamed all over his face. Behind him, he led a ponygirl by the reins. “You can’t imagine how happy I was when you finally started riding. It was a terrible shame that you had always rejected it so far. The other goblins have all torn their mouths, already thinking you were one of those human friends…” He coughed. “I also have a human as a friend, but you have to know the difference if you understand what I mean.” He winked. “This is Sunshine, I just bought her especially for you. She comes from one of the best hunting grounds, she is well-behaved, well-trained and very fast. What do you say?” Izzy shuddered. Hunting areas? Was she… captured? Of course, Izzy thought, that was to be expected, many ponygirls were not of breeding, but girls who had been kidnapped from distant countries. Oozol held the flat of his hand in front of Sunshine. On top of it lay a small, brown treat. Sunshine leaned forward and grabbed it with her lips without hesitation, although chewing with the horse’s bit in her mouth didn’t seem easy. Izzy froze. How humiliating to eat out of a goblin’s hand! How low did you have to sink to do this voluntarily? Would she do the same if … she was a ponygirl, like now? She brushed the thought aside. Sunshine was an animal, she herself was a girl who only looked like a ponygirl, and not a real ponygirl. It was something wholly different! She hoped… “You want to know what I have to say about that? Tack!” Izzy got down on her knees; Grall put one foot in the stirrup and climbed into the saddle. Immediately, Izzy got up again. Izzy’s eyes twitched nervously back and forth; the situation was strange and uncomfortable for her. What was going on here? Did Grall have to choose between her and this… girl? And why did her stomach twist so much — was she jealous of another “animal”? “What does that mean?” asked Oozol sternly. “That you can return her. I don’t want another ponygirl, Buttercup is the only horse I want.” Izzy neighed to remind him that she wasn’t his horse, but as always, she was misunderstood. “You see, she sees it that way, too! What am I supposed to do with two horses? I can only ride one.” Oozol snorted discontentedly. “Ponygirls don’t come with a right of return, my son. Now I have to find a buyer. Why don’t you ride her on your adventures, and Isabel just runs along?” “So that someone just snatches her away? No, it’s too dangerous.” “Well, of course that’s not possible,” Oozol said, raising his hands. “But what if Buttercup doesn’t feel like being your ponygirl any more? The holidays are almost over, and you’ll soon have to take on more responsibilities — that includes frequent riding. You can’t always go to school and take Isabel out of class to ride her.” Grall giggled. “That would be a strange sight. They would all look pretty stupid. If Buttercup doesn’t want to do it any more, then I’ll think about it. But until then, I’ll only ride her. There is no better horse anyway.” Izzy neighed again, and Oozol rolled his eyes. Grall gave Izzy a little kick and rode her out of the yard, leaving his father with the confused Sunshine. — The ride had already lasted several hours. Izzy enjoyed the warm summer sun and let her mind wander while Grall took care of the direction. Only subconsciously did she feel the slight movements of the reins, which her body now followed all by itself; Grall was like a puppeteer who controlled her over the ropes and made her dance. It should have bothered her, but somehow it was liberating and strangely calming. She hardly noticed the saddle and bridle, even less than the dress that had been torn by the undergrowth. She felt free and unbound, even if that didn’t correspond to reality, of course, but it was nice to be able to rely on Grall. All she had to do was move her legs; he made all the other decisions for her. The path itself was easy and straight, a large part of the route led along large roads, where they met ponygirls with their riders again and again, but also large carts, in front of which several ponygirls were harnessed. One of the riders greeted Grall warmly and accompanied them for a while. He introduced himself as Kemtik, and was on his way to his daughter. Grall and he had a casual conversation. Izzy was no longer uncomfortable with other riders around; she had long understood that she was only seen as a ponygirl – and there was nothing wrong with that in this part of the world. But something else became a problem: she had learned from the last rides and had drunk more than usual that morning so as not to run thirsty through the sun for half the day again, but unfortunately, she forgot that everything that comes in at the top has to come out at some point. And that’s precisely what her body demanded now. With every step, the pressure grew and she only danced the last few meters. She neighed restlessly, but Grall didn’t even seem to notice. So his father was right, Izzy thought, he was still too inexperienced to recognize the needs of his horse — in this case, herself. She was also absolutely not ready to just pee while running, especially since that would certainly cause trouble. As she neighed again, then Kemtik came to her rescue. “Your ponygirl seems to have to kick out,” he said, laughing as Izzy squeezed her legs together. Grall shook his head. “No, everything is fine. She’s a good animal that doesn’t hurt anyone.” Izzy rolled her eyes. What a fool. The goblin laughed. “She has to pee!” “Oh!” was the only thing he could say. Izzy looked over her shoulder and Grall stared at her with wide eyes. “You seem very inexperienced to me. Is it your first ride? Don’t take too long, she’ll pee on your shoes. That’s happened to me before.” “But can’t she just go into the forest?” stammered Grall. “That’s the idea, but you’ll have to help her. For one thing, you can’t sit on her back. On the other hand, you should open the strap between her legs; otherwise it’s a big mess.” Grall swallowed audibly. He had probably imagined animal husbandry to be a little easier. He rode Izzy between the nearest trees and got off the saddle. Both looked into each other’s eyes, but while Grall seemed insecure, Izzy was now ready to endure anything if she could finally get rid of this pressure. She felt like she was going to burst soon. “Is your ponygirl housebroken?” Kemtik asked, and Izzy blushed at the question, but finally, she took on the colour of a tomato when Grall also said no. “You have to teach her the rules, they are essential.” His ponygirl tapped her hooves in agreement. “You are responsible for the cleanliness of the paths. It is therefore important that she only empties herself when you allow her to do so – no matter how much pressure she feels. You have to train her well, ideally she can’t even if she wanted to, without your permission.” Grall nodded. He knew the words; his father often used them with the ponygirls. He went to Izzy and told her, “You can’t pee until I say, Rhida Kess. That means as much as water flows. Not before. Did you understand that?” Izzy nodded eagerly. She would agree to anything if only she could finally pee. Grall reached between her legs and opened the strap. It was a great relief. She knelt down and looked at Grall, who only looked at Kemtik. He, in turn, looked at Izzy, as did his horse. “Give her another moment, she has to learn that you’re in control,” the goblin said. Izzy looked at the goblin angrily, but he didn’t even seem to notice. This was probably also because Izzy had been grimacing the whole time, so the furrowed eyebrows no longer made much of a difference. “How long?” asked Grall who visibly did not enjoy watching his friend suffer. That was also his luck, the god of the goblins would not have been able to protect him from the wrath of the big girl if she had believed for even a second that he would enjoy it. “As long as it takes.” Izzy fidgeted back and forth more and more. She didn’t dare to ignore Grall, they were too deep in goblin territory. She was his ponygirl, and those were the rules. But it was terrible, her bladder was pressing and sweat was running down her forehead. “Just a few more seconds,” Grall lied, and Izzy nodded sweaty, but he kept her waiting. She was on the verge of really bursting when she saw Kemtik nod and finally heard the liberating words: “Rhida kess!” The relieved “ahhhh” echoed through the whole forest, and all three observers giggled. Actually, Izzy would have been terribly embarrassed that someone was watching her do it, but right now, she didn’t care about anything as long as this pressure finally eased. But she also felt like a good dog who pulled up to a tree in front of his master while walking her, and it was not far from the truth. Another thought also drilled into her head: Here in the land of the goblins, Grall really had the say, it was the law. Now he even controlled when she was allowed to pee. After she was empty, Grall secured the strap again and patted her lovingly on the bottom. “You did well.” She didn’t deign to answer. A few kilometres further on, the couple separated, but unfortunately for them, they had not found the ruins by evening. But Grall had learned from their last ride and steered Izzy back. “My father will kill me if I overexert you again,” he said, as if Izzy had no problem with that herself. “I have an idea: You can sleep on our farm. Then we can leave very early in the morning, and maybe we’ll find the ruins. It would give us more time if you didn’t have to come to me from home. You’ve never slept on the farm before; it’s going to be interesting.” Izzy thought about it for a moment. Although they were best friends, she had really never stayed with him before. That was almost strange. She turned her head to him, smiled as best she could with the horse’s bit in her mouth, and nodded. “Great! I’m excited for it. Tomorrow we will definitely find the ruins.” He hugged her neck and gave her a loving big kiss right on the neck. Horse training “Do you even have a bed big enough for me?” Izzy asked after Grall had taken the horse bit out of her mouth. “Your house is a bit small for me.” In fact, his father’s whole house was barely longer than Izzy, although it had several rooms. Goblins loved the narrowness of their dwellings, probably because their ancestors supposedly lived in caves. But that was no use to Izzy, unless she wanted to sleep in the dirt in front of his window. Grall giggled. “Not exactly a bed, but a roof over your head,” he explained, helping her out of her clothes. “This is a farm, and we have plenty of stables. Much more than we actually need; my father recently sold a few ponygirls for a good profit.” Izzy shuddered. She would probably never get used to Oozol dealing with humans. Ponygirls, she corrected herself, but was there really such a big difference? “It’s not a luxury hotel, but there is clean straw and it’s warm. Or is the princess too good for a little straw?” Izzy rolled her eyes. “It’ll be fine for one night. But you leave the door open, understood?” “Fine, I’ll leave it open a crack. If it’s fully open, everyone will know something’s wrong.” “But I can open it myself, right?” “Only if it’s not completely closed. If it falls shut, it stays closed. Anything else wouldn’t be good for a stable for a ponygirl. After all, they’re not here voluntarily. But it’s only for a short night, that’s no problem, is it?” “Fine, let’s get this over with. But I’m not going to lie down in the straw with my clothes. Put them somewhere in your room.” Grall did as he was told and put Izzy’s dress from the morning in a corner of his room, where it took up a surprising amount of space in the tiny room. “Which stable should it be?” Although she didn’t like to admit it, the word stable gave her goosebumps. It was bad enough that she was used to a saddle and horse bit by now, but a stable seemed like very real — a place that could quickly become her home if she wasn’t careful. “The one right here in front, we hardly ever use it. It’s closest to our house, but also the furthest away from the other stables. That’s perfect for you, isn’t it?” He hobbled ahead and opened the stable door. “I’ll bring you a blanket so you’ll be a bit more comfortable at night. Ponygirls don’t usually have one, but I’ll make an exception for my Buttercup.” Despite the cast, he was quick enough to dodge her fist; both of them laughed, but not too loudly to attract anyone’s attention. The blanket was thin, but in the summer, it was warm even at night. Grall wished her goodnight and closed the stable door, but only just enough so that the lock didn’t snap shut. A little light came through the old boards; otherwise, Izzy lay in the dark. It was her first night in a stable, until now, she had always slept in the open air – if she was outside of her bed. In that sense, a stable was actually a little more comfortable, the straw was fresh and so plentiful that Izzy could use it to make a bed. Still, it was a strange feeling, after all, this was a place for an animal, not a girl. Or had she already crossed that line? Her hands wandered along her body. Why did this thought make her so nervous? Was it because of Grall, or was it the situation? She moaned softly and bit her tongue. “That doesn’t change anything,” she whispered into the night, her cheeks red. The wind howled and rustled the leaves, the air tugged at the door, and a final gust of wind pushed the stable door shut. “Damn.” — The night was shorter than Izzy had expected. This was not because she had not slept well — in fact, she was lying relaxed in the straw, the blanket had slipped to the side, and she was dreaming of wide fields and the reins that showed her the way. But this dream was abruptly interrupted when the stable door opened loudly and the first light of the early morning hit her face. Like an awakening giant, she turned around and blinked so that her eyes could get used to the blinding sunlight, but some sleeping sand still robbed her of her vision. Instead, she heard footsteps approaching on the straw. Yawning, she opened her mouth to ask Grall what time it was, when she felt a bridle over her head and the familiar feeling of a bit being pushed into her mouth. Before she could react, the visitor grabbed her arms and tied them almost effortlessly behind her back. Her legs were also quickly secured. All of this happened before her head had really woken up. Slowly her eyesight returned, and she realized with horror that it was not Grall who had woken her, but one of the goblin stable boys. He seemed strong for his small size. Her heart was pounding wildly, but she did not yet have the strength to fight back — and would that even be a good idea? “It’s good that I found you first. I must have made a big mess yesterday, why did I bring you into the stable without any security? The master would have ripped my head off if something had happened. You must be new, I don’t remember you; that was way too much beer yesterday.” He rubbed his head and seemed barely more awake than Izzy. “Wait, now I recognize you.” Izzy’s heart froze. “You are Grall’s new ponygirl. I wondered which stable he put you in. You always disappeared in the evenings, but I rarely look up here. The master said that his son wanted to go riding today, so I’d better finish you off right away.” He stroked her head and gave her a little pat on the bottom. Izzy was seething with anger. Of course, the stable boy had to think she was a horse, who else would be stupid enough to sleep naked in a stable? But it was actually her own fault, she didn’t have to get involved in it, and she knew that. Now she was in trouble and had to put up with this nonsense again. She took a deep breath and decided not to make trouble for the stable boy. It wasn’t his fault, and he actually seemed very nice. She had already allowed Grall to turn her back into an animal in the morning. The only difference was that now a stranger was turning her into a pony. Izzy felt her whole body warm at the thought. “Pexo, are all the horses ready yet?” called Oozol, who was working somewhere behind the barn. “No, master, one is still missing. I’ll prepare it right away,” Pexo replied. It was not the kind of greeting Izzy had expected that morning, but she had no choice. She would have liked to call Oozol for help, but tied up and with the bit in her mouth, that was impossible, so she had to follow the stable boy, who had put a collar and a leash on her. Her small steps were more strenuous than a sprint, but the stable boy paid no attention to her problems. He led her to a hut, where he tied her up naked in the open air. The fresh wind blew over her body, something she had got used to by now. Pexo laid Izzy’s riding clothes on the ground next to her — everything was clean and shiny — and put the clothes on her one after the other. It was the familiar routine, as with washing, there was no hesitation or shame. To him, she was simply a ponygirl who needed her clothes. The straps on her breasts were quickly done, and the one between her legs was also pulled in record time. She barely had enough time to blush. “You’re done with that,” said Pexo, holding out one of the treats that the grooms also gave to the other ponies. It was probably meant kindly, but Izzy snorted and declined. She hadn’t sunk so low that she would eat out of a goblin’s hand like an animal. But Pexo didn’t seem to mind; he put the candy back in a bag and slapped her a little too hard on the bottom, causing Izzy to neigh loudly. But it wasn’t just Pexo who heard that; Grall giggled too. He had just hobbled around the corner and was smiling. “This is a very welcome surprise,” he said enthusiastically, with a lightness that only someone who had not been woken up in the morning with a horse’s bit could have. “It saves a lot of time. I’ve never been greeted in the morning with my own saddled horse. I could get used to that. Maybe I will.” Izzy stamped her feet angrily. For her, it would remain an exception, and his jokes didn’t change that. “Your father said you wanted to go riding, so I got her ready right away.” “Good work. Everything looks right!” Grall praised Pexo’s work, as if it wasn’t completely insane that he had just equipped a human girl with a saddle and bit. “Was she good?” “Very well-behaved. She is a beautiful animal. Where did you buy her?” Grall bit his tongue. “Oh, she comes from far away. Very far away. They have the best horses there.” “You can see that! Great stature, very healthy. She must have cost a fortune.” Izzy’s friend grinned, “She’s priceless.” Pexo had just left when Izzy heard the familiar “Tack!” and let Grall climb into the saddle. “Don’t worry,” said Grall, stroking her hair. “You would have been saddled anyway, and Pexo did it well. Was it really that bad?” Izzy hesitated before nodding slightly. It didn’t really make much difference who saddled her, but it was a matter of principle! She stamped her feet firmly. “Well, if I don’t miss it, I’ll saddle you in the morning, okay?” That sounded fair, except that he was obviously planning many more rides. Izzy grumbled, but finally nodded. She felt his kick and was already on her way out of the yard before Oozol stopped her. “Not so fast. Remember when I didn’t approve of your abilities as rider and horse?” They both nodded, which looked silly, especially for Izzy with the bit and reins. But for once, Oozol really wanted to hear her opinion. “Good. Today we’re going to practice a few basic things. First, I want to know from Grall if he remembers what the different stages in training a horse are called.” Grall swallowed and Izzy looked over her shoulder. He had the air of a boy who was about to forget something he had known all his life. “Foal, young horse, riding horse, and…” He stuttered and stared at his fingers as if the answer was hiding somewhere between them. Izzy would have liked to help him, but she had no idea. “So… I’ve got it! Dressage horse and master horse.” Oozol nodded in satisfaction. “That’s right. A foal has never had a saddle before, most are too young, or have been recently caught.” Izzy snorted at this description. How could he pretend that it was okay to catch a girl and force her to live as a horse? But that was just how goblins were. “A young horse has been used to the saddle, but is not yet ready to be ridden normally. A riding horse is — as the name suggests — already broken in and can be used for rides. Buttercup here is actually such a riding horse, but you simply skipped the training as a young horse.” He looked at both of them reproachfully. “Dressage horses know a few tricks, and are also trained for competitions, while a master horse is the highest quality. That is rare, however. Master horses are docile and perfectly adapted to the life of a horse. Buttercup could reach that level if you both try hard.” Izzy snorted loudly; that was really not something she needed in her life. It was humiliating enough that for Oozol she was not just a horse, but a riding horse. How much nonsense did she have to listen to? She neighed loudly, but Oozol silenced her with a wave of his hand. “If you don’t want to train, then you won’t be allowed to ride any more.” “That’s unfair!” Grall complained angrily. “We did everything right. We know everything we need!” “Good, prove it!” He went into the shed and came back with blinders. “Here, put them on Buttercup. You can put them over the eyes, so the horse can’t see. Prove to me that you can handle her only with the reins.” As promised, the blinkers took away Izzy’s sight, at least as long as they were closed. It was an unpleasant feeling, especially when Oozol stuffed cotton wool into her ears. Now she was blind and deaf and had to rely entirely on the reins. Nothing happened for a few minutes, then Grall gave her a light kick and she ran off. But that was probably too fast, she felt a jolt to the right, but before she could react, she ran painfully into a pole. She was sure that the place had been free before, but Oozol must have set up a few obstacles for the exercise. Izzy shook herself while Grall stroked her shoulders. His voice seemed to come miles away through the cotton wool, and she understood nothing — except the new kick. Now she went a little slower until Grall gave her another kick and she ran a little faster. Without thinking, she reacted to the reins and went a little faster with the next kick. She was slowly becoming uneasy about how many quick commands Grall used to lead her around the obstacles that were invisible to her; only once did some wood scrape past her leg and leave a small wound. Grall brought her to a stop with a tug on both reins. Grall pulled the cotton wool out of her ears and opened the blinders again, but he didn’t take them off completely. “Satisfied?” His voice was unusually haughty, but Oozol seemed impressed. “That was probably more the horse’s performance, not the riders. But it was good, you’re well-coordinated. It’s not often that someone succeeds so quickly.” Izzy looked around and froze. The whole arena was full of obstacles, some of which looked like it would be very painful to run into them. Luckily for her, she didn’t have to experience that. But what was worse were the many spectators that had gathered around the arena. All the grooms had paused their work and watched her on her little ride. The first ones clapped and Izzy danced around on the spot, embarrassed. “Is she officially a riding horse now?” “Why not.” Oozol held out one of the treats to Izzy. At first, everything in her was reluctant to eat the small brown candy from his hand, but considering that she could probably flush any feelings of shame down the toilet today anyway, she put her concerns aside. The other horses seemed to like these candies very much, maybe they even tasted good? She got down on her knees and pressed her mouth against Oozol’s hand to get the treat into her mouth despite the horse’s bit. It was difficult, and Oozol did nothing to make it easier for her. She had to use her lips like a shovel, and felt the rough skin on Oozol’s not entirely clean hands. Finally, she managed it, and to her surprise, the candy was absolutely delicious! They reminded her a little of the sweets that the old goblin witch Hersia always gave her – she was a terribly nasty woman, but at least her sweets were pretty good. How strange that Oozol’s tasted so similar; it must have been a goblin recipe that was widely used. “All horses love our treats,” said Oozol dryly. Izzy concentrated on the taste; the candy was extremely creamy and tender, it almost dissolved on her tongue by itself. The taste spread throughout her mouth, it was a mixture of vanilla and herbs that Izzy couldn’t identify. Every time she moved her tongue, the taste changed and became even more intense. She nudged him and asked for another candy, which he gave her. “They taste horrible to us goblins, but ponygirls have different tastes. Buttercup, I congratulate you, you are now one of the horses who are allowed to carry a goblin.” A neigh was Izzy’s only response. It was not an honour she wanted, but hardly anyone asked her opinion any more anyway. — The ride took them deep into goblin country again, but they had set off early enough that this was not a problem. The roads were still empty and they were making good progress. The thump-thump-thump of Izzy’s hooves was often the only sign of civilization in this part of the world, and they both enjoyed the solitude: just them and nature, spreading out before them in all its beauty. For all the trouble Izzy already had to endure today, these moments were almost worth it. They both enjoyed the peace and quiet when a familiar voice cut through the silence like a whip. Grall brought Izzy to a stop with the reins and turned her in the direction of the man calling. “Drex, what are you doing here?” Grall asked cheerfully, as if he were seeing a good old friend again. Izzy grumbled; her memories of meeting this goblin and his father Krom were not as positive as Grall’s; the meeting had also given him control over Izzy, which she had lost in the process. “We’re going for a little ride, would you like to join us?” Drex laughed loudly. “You’re still acting like your horse is your friend. You two are a strange team, but I see you’ve listened to our advice. That looks much better. You’re sitting much more securely in the saddle, I can see that she’s obeying you now. Well done, you have to show an animal who’s the boss.” Izzy wanted to go for his throat, but she had to stay in her role and her hands weren’t free to do so. Nevertheless, she put him on her list of naughty goblins. “Which way are you riding — or both of you, if you prefer that?” “No, just me, of course. Buttercup is just a horse,” Grall corrected himself, earning a snort from Izzy. “There are supposed to be some good ruins nearby. We—I—love that kind of stuff. Do you know anything about it?” “Further to the east there are some larger castle ruins. If that’s what you’re looking for, you’re welcome to come with me, that’s the direction I’m heading too.” They both nodded to each other, and Grall urged Izzy on so that she walked next to Drex’s horse. It was a terribly boring trip for Izzy — with Drex they walked much slower and to make matters worse she had to listen to the senseless chatter of the two goblins; thanks to the saddle she couldn’t even put her fingers in her ears. Although when she thought about it, she would have much preferred to wring their necks, after all they spent half the time talking about her and how best to tame her. It was once again a humiliating conversation, and Grall did little to make it easier for her. In fact, he seemed genuinely interested in the advice, even though he kept emphasizing that Izzy was already completely obedient. To prove it he dismounted, let her go a few meters ahead and called her over to him with a “Come here, good girl!” as one would with a dog. Izzy was about to give him a good kick, but the risk of falling out of character so deep in goblin land was too great. So she went to him and obediently let him stroke her head for her servility. Her eyes flashed angrily at him, but he just smiled back cheekily, as if it were all just a harmless game and not the complete humiliation of his best friend. Drex coughed loudly. “All this riding around is making me thirsty, we should reward ourselves for our efforts. There’s a good pub in the next village, I’ll treat you to a beer.” Izzy rolled her eyes. What had the two of them accomplished other than sitting on their butts in the saddles while their horses did all the work? “Gladly!” said Grall and gave Izzy another light kick so that she ran faster to the village. Drex did the same, and they both rode at a gallop to the inn. The village wasn’t big, but the inn was impressive. It towered over the other houses by a whole floor and stood in front of an open space where a row of ponygirls were tied to a long horse pole. Underneath was a long trough of water, and Izzy already knew that she wouldn’t get any beer today. To her great annoyance, Grall tied her to the pole without hesitation and ran into the inn with Drex, not even looking back. Stupid, she thought, he didn’t have to take the role play so seriously! This was supposed to be their ride together, she wasn’t his horse, so he could have fun on his own! But now she stood under the warm sun, still with the saddle on her back, and could do nothing but wait for her rider. Her time was meaningless, as was her opinion of the situation. She existed only to serve him — at least according to the goblins who went in and out of the inn. Her eyes fell on a sign next to the entrance: “Animals are not allowed in — ponygirls must stay outside!” She grumbled, especially because occasionally humans came out of the inn, who were probably trading with the goblins. That also explained why the inn was so big — it had been built for humans, too. Luckily, no one paid her any attention; for the humans too, she was probably just an animal waiting for its owner with the other ponygirls… Hours passed, and the sun was already sinking dangerously close to the horizon, when Izzy noticed something strange: A goblin dressed in a thick coat had positioned himself at the front of the long line of ponygirls and had stepped behind the first ponygirl. He was not very tall and from his position he could see right between the girl’s legs, which he did with devotion. Then he even reached between the ponygirl’s thighs and fiddled around there. The ponygirl didn’t seem to mind, but Izzy was disgusted. What a perverted greenling! Did he have nothing better to do than fondle poor helpless animals? After a short time, he seemed satisfied and went to the next ponygirl, where he repeated his game. Izzy was getting nervous — only half a dozen ponygirls left, and he would touch her. Drex’s horse also stamped nervously. Both looked longingly at the door of the inn and neighed loudly — but how likely was it that these two drunkards would come to their rescue right now? Izzy had no hope, but then the door swung open, and Drex pulled Grall behind him. Both were slightly drunk. Izzy grumbled angrily, but Grall didn’t seem to notice, he loosened the reins and simply jumped into the saddle with a “tack!” as if he had every right in the world to do so. Strictly speaking, that was true in this part of the world, but it still drove Izzy mad. She looked one last time at the strange goblin, who made preparations to run towards them, but Grall and Drex gave their ponies a kick and rode them away at a gallop. “Damn tax inspectors,” Drex grumbled, spitting on the ground. Izzy whinnied confused, but got no further explanation. “Do you think we can still make it to the ruins?” Grall asked uncertainly. His look revealed that he had completely lost track of time. “You can forget about that. It’s too late for your — or yours if you insist — ride back. You could sleep in the inn, but it’s a beautiful night and I wanted to set up camp nearby. Would you like to join me?” Grall nodded and followed his new friend. Izzy neighed discontentedly, but the two riders ignored that, too. The ride took them out into the wilderness, through a swamp into a picturesque grove, between whose trees a small hollow offered them protection from wind and weather. At any other time, Izzy would have felt very comfortable here, but with Drex at her side, she was constantly being observed and had to pretend this degrading life of a ponygirl. “A beautiful place, shall we stay here?” asked Grall as he tied Izzy to a tree. “Tie up her legs too, she walked enough for today.” Grall did as advised, and Izzy lost a little more of her freedom for the evening. Drex nodded in satisfaction. “This is one of my favourite places. Your ruins are four hours down the road, so you’ll get there in time tomorrow. Come, help me gather some firewood. It’s actually warm enough without it, but the flames will keep the wild animals away.” They both set off and gathered as much dry wood as they could find. The fire was quickly made, and they sat next to it, while their ponygirls had to stand tied to the edge of the hollow. It was the usual injustice that she had come to detest in goblins. Wasn’t it enough that they were abused as horses, why did they have to be denied any comfort? “Your ponygirl looks a little restless.” Grall nodded shyly, and Izzy also became a little nervous. She remembered the last time well and knew that she had to stay in character. He took her to the edge of the grove and with a loud “tack” ordered her to crouch down. Again he untied the strap between her legs and Izzy was smart enough to wait for his order. He grinned at her and to her annoyance he waited a whole minute before finally allowing her to let go with the command “Rhida Kess”. The whole thing was slowly becoming an unpleasant habit, especially since Grall did not look away, although this was not even required. He fastened the strap and tied Izzy to the tree again. “We can share my pony’s food, I always have something for emergencies,” offered Drex. “I don’t see anything on your saddle, that’s not good. You have to take care of your horse; that’s the price we pay for turning them into animals. Come on, let’s take their saddles off and get them ready for the night.” Grall nodded and wanted to take the saddle off Izzy, but Drex stopped him. “You still have a lot to learn. You must always tie your ponygirls hands together under the saddle! That’s the only way to be sure that you can safely take the saddle off in an emergency.” “Of course,” Grall said sheepishly, and quickly tied Izzy’s arms together before they both loosened the straps and put the saddles under a tree. Then they removed the bits and fed both ponies by hand. Izzy wanted to jump out of her skin: it was bad enough that she had eaten a treat from Oozol out of her hand, but now she was being fed, like… well, any other animal. But the worst thing was that the mixture of seeds, grains and cereals tasted horrible, and only her hunger prevented her from spitting it all out straight away. Only Grall seemed to be having a great time, he seemed to be enjoying feeding Izzy very much. “She’s starving!” he said and shoved another handful of food into her mouth. The food was immediately followed by the bit again, so Izzy had no time to vent her displeasure at him, as he deserved. “Have you slept outside with your horse yet?” Drex asked, laying out a large blanket on the ground. It was far too long for goblins, and Izzy thought they had good intentions for their horses, but as always, she was quickly proven wrong. “Many like to sleep on the ground — what goblin doesn’t like a bit of good earth under their head — but out here it’s safer if we stick with our horses. They’re very comfortable, too.” Izzy looked at him confused, but the goblin just winked at her, sensing that she had no idea what he had in mind. He laid down a second blanket, then led his pony over and gave her a clear command: “Grexipel!” He stared Izzy straight in the eyes. “That means lie down!” His horse lay down on the blanket without further ado or argument. That would have been a relief for Izzy at first, after all, she probably didn’t have to sleep standing up, but something in the ponygirls look told Izzy that the matter was not over. The girl blushed and avoided Izzy’s gaze as she lay on her back. Her hands supported her bottom while her breasts rested freely above. What happened next was a shock for Izzy; although not the first one that day: Drex climbed onto the girl’s stomach and laid his head on her breasts, which served as a pillow for him. It looked like a green raccoon that had fallen asleep on the girl. “They really are very comfortable. Come on, try it too!” Grall seemed a little unsure. “Isn’t that a bit… much?” “No, not at all. It connects rider and animal, and it also helps the horse to understand who is the master. You are her master, her owner, aren’t you? Doesn’t she have to do everything you ask?” Grall nodded silently. “Say it.” “I am her master.” “Louder. More!” “I am the master of my ponygirl. And she must do what I ask.” Drex grinned broadly. “Say it again, with all your fervour, and look at her while you do it.” New energy seemed to have surged through Grall. He rose to his full small size, swallowed loudly and said, “Buttercup, look at me! I am your master, you are my horse. You will do what I ask!” Izzy neighed embarrassedly. In this part of the world, he was right, and she had to obey whether she wanted to or not. Still, that was not what they had agreed on! He walked firmly to her and untied her reins from the tree, then led her to the ceiling without looking back — she could hardly follow with her bandaged legs — and said, “Grexipel!” Izzy danced around and snorted. He was not her master, and she certainly did not want to be a bed for Grall, but she was also afraid of Drex. If he could manipulate Grall like that, what else could he do? She sighed and knelt down next to the blanket, then turned over on the floor. It took a moment to find a comfortable place for her arms and hands, but as soon as she lay still, she felt Grall’s weight on her stomach. As before, he was not heavy, but it was not his mass that was weighing on her, it was the insult of using her like that. But Grall seemed to be in heaven. He laid his head on her breast and hummed contentedly. “This is fantastic! Why doesn’t everyone sleep like this?” “Fear, I think,” said Drex. “My ponygirl was brought up hard, I can trust her. You seem to have a special bond with your horse anyway. Others wouldn’t dare do that, they’re afraid of their ponygirls. But there’s nothing like a night on your horse, am I right?” “Can horses sleep like that?” “Your Buttercup will get used to it. The first night is always hard, but that is the price they have to pay for our luxury. That is their role in life. Don’t worry, she will soon be happy to serve you. You have to practice it with her regularly. Ride out overnight more often and it will become normal for you.” Izzy felt Grall nod in agreement, and she wanted to hit him over the head with a frying pan for that. He shouldn’t think that there would be a repeat of this nonsense! If it weren’t for Drex, he would be lying under her now, then he could see how comfortable it is… The two goblins had turned to each other and talked for half the night, while Izzy and Drex Pony occasionally looked embarrassedly into each other’s eyes. They had no other choice, since they were not only the horses of these two greenies for the night, but also their bed and pillow. What a shame, thought Izzy, as she felt his ears and hands on her breasts. But there was another feeling, besides shame and anger. Was it her motherly feelings because she had such a small and weak creature at her breast? She thought about it for a long time, as she felt his body on hers, rising and falling with each of her breaths. She had just fallen asleep when she turned to the side out of habit and threw Grall out of his bed. He gave her a few light slaps on the bottom to remind her of her role, then whispered in her ear: “This is all just a game. Don’t be afraid. You are my best friend.” But he still lay down on her stomach, pressed her breasts together to form a comfortable pillow, and fell asleep contentedly, while Izzy stayed awake all night, staring at the stars. A ponygirls life was strange. A very private tax The morning came too early for Izzy; she had hardly slept and her back ached while Grall snoozed comfortably on her breast. Still, she tried to lie as still as possible to let her little friend sleep. She knew how absurd this was, but something inside her couldn’t bring herself to wake him, despite the absurdity of the situation. Still, she knew she would need to find a way to make him understand that she would never do this again. After everyone was finally awake, Izzy and her fellow sufferer were led into the trees, where they found relief again, commanded by “Rhida Kess”. To Izzy’s own irritation, she even waited for the order without being asked. Then they were saddled, and the ride started without much announcement towards the ruins. For the first few hours she had to listen to the chatter of the two goblins again, but then they went their separate ways and Grall and Izzy were alone once more, although he still didn’t take the horse bit out of her mouth. She remained an animal on this journey, but she knew that beforehand. At least the ruins were a reward for the effort: Grall rode her with wide eyes through dilapidated archways, across a large old square and admired a collapsed tower that lay shattered on the ground like a fallen stone dragon. Only when he tied her to a tree with the reins without saying a word and went to explore a cellar himself did the fun stop for Izzy. She was seething with anger again, but at least he apologized when he returned. “I’m sorry, but we’re still in goblin country. We have to keep up appearances.” This seemed like a cheap excuse to her, after all, there was no one around, but she had no choice. — They reached Oozol’s farm unseen in the early evening. It was already dark, but there was still some activity, as not all the horses had been prepared for the night. Grall led Izzy to the large square and had her kneel next to Pexo. “Please take care of her.” Pexo stroked her side and nodded. “I’ll take her to be washed right away.” Grall yawned and turned to Izzy: “That was a nice ride, but now I’m tired. I’m going to bed, goodnight!” He passed her reins to Pexo and left the astonished Izzy behind. This was not how she had imagined it. Sure, she had already been washed in the yard, but at least then it was Grall who had scrubbed the dirt from her skin. But whatever the case, she had no choice and had to follow Pexo to the washing station. Unfortunately for her, a few other ponygirls were already lined up there, and she was unceremoniously tied to a fence. The ponygirls eyed her with interest until it was each of their turn. It was a rapid process that was obviously well practiced. It was basically the same as with Grall and Oozol, only much faster, and no one was embarrassed when a hand wandered between their legs. They were only horses, Izzy thought sarcastically; even when she included herself in the thoughts. Finally, it was her turn. First her pony boots were taken off and her legs were bandaged again, then the saddle was untied, but her hands were still tied. She was given the collar and leash again and tied to the post. When the horse bit was removed, Izzy said, “thank you” quietly, but received a slap on the bottom and a stern shake of the head from Pexo. “If you do that again, I’ll have to report you. Talking ponies get their mouths washed out with soap.” “I’m sorry,” Izzy whispered and immediately bit her tongue, but Pexo just rolled his eyes. Before she could react, he shoved a whole bar of soap into her mouth; the taste was disgusting, and Izzy looked pleadingly at Pexo, who took his time taking the soap out of her mouth. “A talking ponygirl… really! Are you good now?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Izzy nodded silently. She was too tired to argue with him, and she could really use a good wash right now; two days of dirt still clung to her. She noticed that all her pony clothes had been put to the side, while the other horses’ stuff was in a pile. She stood naked in the yard again, and Pexo started his work. The warm water felt wonderful, even though she would have preferred to soap herself. First, he washed her hair and head, his claws massaging her scalp pleasantly. He hadn’t done that with the other horses, Izzy thought, but did nothing to stop him. Then he turned to her upper body and cleaned her shoulder and then her arms. “Who’s a sweet horse? You’re a sweet horse!” he said, soaping her breasts. Izzy was very embarrassed, of course, but at the same time, Pexo was so playful that she couldn’t blame him. And his hands felt wonderful. “What does a happy ponygirl do?” he asked, and after Izzy giggled and neighed for him, he washed her between her legs, which left her speechless for a moment. “You like that, am I right? You all like that, you naughty things.” He winked and took his time. Since Izzy was the last horse in line, nothing seemed to rush him, and she certainly wasn’t going to interrupt him. Just when she thought she was hotter than boiling water, he switched his work to her legs, much to her dissatisfaction. “Don’t look like that, that’s what the stallions are for. I’m just here to clean you up after the ride.” He smacked Izzy on the bottom, and she neighed again, blushing. This time he hadn’t asked for it, but she had just slipped into her role as ponygirl; it felt completely natural, which unsettled her more than anything else. Despite everything, this wasn’t normal, she thought, and made a firm resolution to speak to Grall tomorrow. He needed to be more precise with his orders to the grooms. She looked at his house and noticed that the light in his room was off. Was he still sitting in the living room with his father? After she had been washed, Pexo led her not to the familiar troughs, but behind the stable into a small fenced-in paddock where the other horses were already standing. He closed the gate behind her and left her alone. Izzy looked around in surprise, but most of the ponygirls paid her no further attention; they were busy eating and drinking at the long troughs. Izzy’s stomach was rumbling too, but it wasn’t just the uneasy feeling of having slipped even deeper into the world of ponygirls — no, she was also simply hungry! Gritting her teeth, she trotted forward in small steps and searched for a free spot where she could find a place by the water or food. In front of her, she saw only a row of naked, broad butts, wiggling towards her. She had never cared for other women, but even she blushed with a warm feeling in her tummy at the sight of this obvious femininity. Before she could react, she felt a violent blow from the side and landed in the dirt. Sunshine stood above her and smiled evilly down at her. Izzy hissed, but none of the ponygirls dared to say anything. Just because they didn’t have a horse’s bit in their mouths didn’t mean they were allowed to speak, Izzy knew that. They glared at each other challengingly. Sunshine wanted to kick her in the stomach, but Izzy skilfully turned on the ground and kicked her legs out from under her. With a loud howl, Sunshine also flew into the dirt. “Stop that,” ordered Pexo. He came into the paddock, helped them both to their feet, and slapped their bare bottoms so hard that his hand left a clear mark. Sunshine growled angrily but retreated to the other corner of the paddock and left Izzy alone for now. Izzy, on the other hand, whimpered at being hit; she didn’t deserve that! To her consolation, she soon found a place at the water trough between two other ponygirls. She squeezed in between them, as she had seen others do, and drank as well as she could. It was strange to stand so close together, especially when everyone had their hands and legs tied while they were bent over drinking from a trough. This was not how Izzy had imagined her holiday. Shortly afterwards, she got a place at the feeding trough and ate as much as she could. The stuff still tasted horrible, but hunger drove it down. After eating, all the ponygirls — including Izzy, of course — waited for the grooms. To her surprise, most of the ponygirls were very nice. They all gathered in a corner and warmed each other up. Izzy didn’t want to join in at first, but one of the ponygirls gave her a few playful nudges until Izzy finally found herself almost in the middle of the pile. It was a strange feeling of security and connection that she hadn’t expected. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth and the quiet sound of the horses breathing around her, which she quietly joined in. Finally, Pexo brought one pony girl after another out of the paddock until Izzy was alone. It was lonely without the other horses, but at least she could lie down in what she hoped would be a comfortable bed and pull the blanket over her head. That was all she needed today to be happy. Grall must have given a groom the task of converting a stable into a room for her yesterday so that she didn’t have to sleep on the floor again — he was often very stubborn, but not stupid. After a few minutes, Pexo came back, put a night bit in her mouth and led her out of the paddock on the leash. She looked around for her things and didn’t pay any attention to where she was being led. “You’ll have some peace and quiet soon, you deserve it. But don’t talk any more, okay?” Pexo took the leash and collar off her and pushed her backwards inside. Izzy looked around for her clothes, but all she could find was an empty stable in front of her. Behind her, she heard the stable door slam shut. She looked over her shoulder and sighed deeply. How could she be so stupid… Grall hadn’t taken care of anything, and to the grooms she was just his mare who belonged in the stable. The stable only offered some straw, but even the blanket was gone — not even the most basic comfort was allowed for the animals on the farm, she thought angrily. It was all Grall’s fault; he hadn’t told the grooms what to do clearly enough, she thought. Now she was standing naked in a horse stable, her arms and legs tied and a night horse bit in her mouth, like any other horse. No, she wasn’t a horse… she wasn’t an animal after all! That was what she told herself as she walked slowly through her stable. The whole floor was covered with straw; otherwise there was nothing. No chair, no bed, no food or drink. It was simply a stable for a horse — and tonight she was one, there was no doubt about that. She ran to the door, the upper half of which was still open. She looked up at the moonless sky and then to Grall’s window. There was still no light there; or, as Izzy now suspected, no light any more. Grall had probably gone straight to his bed and was now fast asleep while she waited here in the stable. She looked at the stars for a while, then Pexo came and closed the upper half of the door in all the stables, leaving Izzy in the pitch-black stable. To make matters worse, while she had been allowed to pee on the ride — of course, only after Grall had given her permission with Rhida Kess — but there was still something that needed to be done. Izzy whined in discontent, but she had no choice. She crouched in a corner by the door and did what nature demanded. She pushed as much straw on it as possible and trotted miserably to the farthest corner and fell asleep. — The night was short for Izzy. She never managed to sleep for more than an hour, then she woke up from one of her strange dreams and realized that it was all true. To make matters worse, her back still hurt from the previous night, and the stable didn’t make it any better. She was used to laying her head on a pillow, or at least using her hands, but that was out of the question here. It was the third unusual night in a row, and she was beginning to wonder when she would finally see her bed again. In the morning, she was sore and terribly tired, and wondered if all the ponygirls in the stables felt the same way. She brushed the thought aside; she wasn’t a ponygirl, and a night in the stables wouldn’t change that. But she still felt a little more sorry for the women and girls who had to endure this every day. Why didn’t they at least give them a bed, what difference would that make to their usefulness as horses? Or was it — as Oozol and Drex had said — really just about the ponygirls recognizing and accepting their place? Was this all a game for the goblins? To her relief, the first timid rays of sunlight of the new day broke through the boards of the stable, and she was sure that Grall would come and get her soon. She waited anxiously and jumped up at every noise in front of the stable, but Grall did not come. The top door to her stable opened and Gribat — who had taught Grall Rhida Kess — looked in on her, probably to check if she had slept well. He saw what she had been doing in the corner and shook his head. “You’re not house-trained yet, Buttercup. We thought you had learned that as a human girl.” Izzy blushed and lowered her gaze as the groom came with a shovel and removed the dirt, only to fill the spot with new straw. “You have to do that on the rides. We’ll talk to your rider, Grall really is a little fresh behind the ears.” Izzy whinnied in agreement; he really was! While the other horses were brought out of their stables one by one, Izzy stayed behind and waited. The sun was already quite high in the sky when she finally heard Grall’s voice. “Go get Buttercup and get her ready for a ride.” She looked out of the stable and saw him at his window. That idiot must have overslept! All that effort and her night in the stable had been for nothing! Izzy was seething with rage, but there was no point in getting angry about it, there was nothing she could do about it now. She wrote it off as an unwanted experience that had revealed a few more sides of a ponygirls life to her. Izzy was quickly fetched from her stable and tied to a post with a collar and a leash, while the other ponygirls were already doing their exercises behind her. While Izzy waited bored, Gribat led the stallion Titan across the yard, who blatantly stared at Izzy’s bottom. Izzy blushed slightly, but even though she didn’t quite know why, she still wiggled her bare bottom for him. The stallion neighed happily and Izzy playfully stuck her tongue out at him. Pexo brought her things from the barn and patted her bottom. “You must be in heat,” he said, giggling, but Izzy just winked. A little fun was allowed, right? He saddled her quickly; the blinkers went back on her bridle but remained open. Just as she was done, Grall came out of the house. He had freshly washed and was smiling sheepishly at her. “I’m sorry, I overslept. Now we’re even late.” Izzy stamped her hooves angrily, but Grall just untied her reins from the fence, said “tack” loudly, and climbed into the saddle without further apology. “Did everything go well last night?” he asked Pexo. “She was very well-behaved and didn’t cause us any trouble. We were worried at first whether she would eat with the other animals, but it went completely smoothly. I’ve never seen a new pony that fits in so well with the group. She’s a natural. She didn’t cause any trouble in the stable, either.” Grall looked very pleased, while Izzy wanted to crawl into a hole with every further word. Now she was not only an animal to these goblins, but a particularly tame one at that. But of course, most girls would probably resist this treatment more, but she just played along, like the dumbest of all animals… she grumbled. “Excellent,” said Grall and patted Izzy on the bottom from the saddle. So it was no accident. Grall, you’re an idiot, thought Izzy. “However, she had a fight with Sunshine. The mare must have attacked her.” Saxea appeared out of nowhere. “What happened to Sunshine? Why isn’t she in her stable?” “She attacked Izzy,” the groom explained. Saxea shook her head vigorously. “It was definitely not intentional. Dad gave her to me because Grall didn’t want her. She is a sweet horse. Please, Grall, don’t tell Dad, or she’ll get into trouble.” “Our father must decide that”, Grall growled. “Pexo, tell him later about it, he will know what to do.” Izzy whinnied in agreement, but Saxea ran away howling. From a distance, Oozol beckoned them over. “You didn’t tell me about your trip. You were gone a whole day longer, what happened?” Grall told them about the ride and how they met Drex but omitted the inn and his night with Izzy. “That was all, doesn’t sound as exciting as I expected. Is there nothing more to report?” Izzy stamped loudly and snorted. “Ah, it seems to me that there is something after all.” Izzy leaned forward and Oozol took the bit out of her mouth under Grall’s worried gaze. He formed a few words soundlessly with his lips, but Izzy ignored it. He had let her down that night, what did she care about what he wanted? Wasn’t it enough that he was allowed to ride her? “Grall forgot a few things.” She emphasized the word “forgot”. “You didn’t tell your father you slept on me!” she snapped, but Oozol didn’t seem as surprised — or disgusted — as Izzy had hoped. “You used my breasts as a pillow! That wasn’t agreed upon, you can’t just get away with whatever you want!” Oozol jumped up and took the dangling reins, even though the bit was no longer in Izzy’s mouth. “Calm you down, Buttercup. That must have been a bit uncomfortable for you, but it’s quite popular with some goblins. I slept on many ponygirls like that when I was young. It’s good that he got his way; it’s the right way for both of you to sleep outdoors, I’m sure of that. It strengthens the bond between rider and horse.” “But you goblins love sleeping on the ground! Besides, I’m not a bed!” “Your beds are dead places for us goblins, so we prefer the earth — it’s full of life and nature; just like a ponygirl. And I’m sure you were very comfortable.” He slapped Izzy’s breasts with both hands, making her freeze in shock. “It wasn’t comfortable for me!” “That’s not necessary; you were a ponygirl there and had to do your duty. There were no other problems?” “No, that was all,” Grall lied quickly before Izzy could say anything. He quickly tried to put the horse bit back in her mouth, but Izzy shook herself. “Grall was in a pub and got drunk! And some lecher groped the ponygirls between their legs!” Oozol frowned. “What kind of man was that, and what exactly was he looking at?” Grall desperately fiddled with the bit, but Izzy clenched her teeth. “It was really nothing. Forget Buttercup, Drex and I didn’t see anything.” “He said something about taxes,” Izzy squeaked through her teeth. Oozol almost turned pale. “You fool, you should have stayed away from the villages! You only wanted to look at ruins, not have fun in inns!” Izzy nodded and stamped her feet in agreement, for a moment, she had completely forgotten that she could talk. But with the next words, all the colour slowly drained from her face. “Of course, the tax collectors check ponies wherever there are a lot of them. Haven’t you been paying attention?” He pulled Grall out of the saddle and hit him hard on the back of the head, almost made him cry. “Tax collector? But Izzy isn’t a real ponygirl, we don’t have to pay taxes for her!” “I don’t know who you inherited that from, but neither your mother nor I are that stupid. Look at Buttercup — even she understood it! You must pay taxes on every pony; at least if you find them outside a farm. The chances of being stopped on the street are practically zero, but in a village it’s different. Izzy doesn’t wear a tax tag! The fake registration number hardly bothers anyone, but tax evasion is a serious crime. Izzy would probably have been confiscated as punishment and auctioned off to settle the damages. What were you thinking?” He hit his son over the head again, and Izzy gave him a light kick on the shin. “You mean I would have really been sold?” Izzy asked, trembling. “Certainly, tax fraud is never taken lightly.” Grall seemed even smaller than usual. “We stay away from the villages, is that enough?” Oozol shook his head. “You’ve shown that I can’t trust you. No, we need a better solution. Luckily for you, this is a ponygirl farm, so we have everything we need to properly tax a ponygirl.” “Taxes, for me?” Izzy squeaked. “If you’re going to be a ponygirl, this is a must. Are you ready for this?” Izzy danced nervously back and forth. The thought of someone paying for her made her feel very uncomfortable. There was something official about it, as if Grall and she were suddenly getting serious. Oozol tapped his feet impatiently. “Will it take long?” “Not at all, you’ll be gone in a few minutes, and you probably won’t even notice much. The timing couldn’t be better, we’ve just taxed another ponygirl.” Izzy nodded uncertainly. “If it really isn’t much work…” Her voice broke as she said the words; it wasn’t what she wanted at all, but Oozol had made the danger clear to her. Oozol seemed satisfied. “Follow me.” He walked ahead with firm steps. Grall climbed into Izzy’s saddle and rode behind; he would never have been able to keep up on foot with his broken leg, but Izzy also that riding her as his ponygirl was now his preferred mode of transportation anyway. They walked around the stables and went to a barn further back that Izzy didn’t know yet. The room was small and dark, with only a frame in the middle. Grall dismounted and led her inside. “It’s just a small thing. Buttercup, please lean over the frame. It’ll be quick, I promise.” Izzy looked uncertainly at the metal monster. “Now don’t be like that, we won’t rip your head off, it’ll be quick, I promise, you can get going straight away.” Izzy swallowed and lay down on the frame. With quick moves, she was tied up, her legs spread. Now she felt uneasy, she tried to turn her head, but Oozol closed her blinders. “What’s going on?” she asked nervously, but Oozol ignored her. “Watch carefully, my son. You will have to do it yourself with the other horses one day.” “Tell me what you’re doing!” Izzy begged, but Oozol continued talking only to his son. “You have to put the ring in these pliers. See? The opening must face forward. Now you have to aim carefully. Do it quickly so that the animal doesn’t get nervous.” Izzy felt the strap between her legs being undone, then felt his hands on her privates, and was almost scared to death. But that wasn’t the worst thing that was about to happen. She felt something sharp on her outer lips and then an intense sensation, as if she was being pierced. She yelped loudly, but the two goblins didn’t seem surprised. “That’s it. It will be sore and painful for a few days, but with some ointment, it will be fine. Don’t worry, you can still go riding.” She felt Oozol applying something to her sensitive intimate area but couldn’t see it because of the blinders. “You monsters, what are you doing to me?” “Calm down, it’ll be over soon. You agreed to it!” said Oozol, and then ignored her again. Instead, he explained to his son: “The tax tag is attached to the ring and then the end is melted. You can only do that once, thereafter, it’s used up. The tags must stay on the horse, or you’ll have to keep paying for a new tag!” Oozol called out to another goblin, but Izzy couldn’t see him. Instead, she heard the suspicious rustling of a large cloak, but the goblin’s voice was unfamiliar to her. “This is Jedol, he is the local tax collector and responsible for the tax tags,” Oozol explained to his son — after all, Izzy only had to wear the tag, not understand it. “You can recognize the tax collectors by their cloaks, so pay close attention!” “I see, another horse. Your business seems to be going well, Oozol. That makes an old collector like me happy. I have one last token left for this month somewhere.” She heard the goblin rummaging in his pockets, then felt him fiddling with her new ring. His grip was rough, and his claws scratched her sensitive spot, then it got uncomfortably warm for a moment. He fumbled around with her a little more, it seemed to be common practice for collectors to use their work for their personal passions. Izzy wiggled her butt restlessly, but the goblin almost seemed to enjoy it. He giggled and only left her alone after a few more grips. “That’s it, the tag is perfect. Another horse finished.” “I’m not a horse!” Izzy cursed, shaking with anger. Jedol laughed. “I don’t really care. If I could, I would raise taxes on all women. Remember that you must not break the seal if the tag is to remain valid. See you, hopefully with valid tax tags on your horses!” “Disgusting man,” said Grall after Jedol had left. He stroked Izzy’s bottom to calm her down. “Are they all like that?” “Most of them. You probably don’t become a tax collector if you have a soul.” “How long is the tag valid?” asked Grall. “The tag has a starting month, and from that month it is valid for 12 months. That means we have paid Buttercup’s taxes for a year. Or rather, you will pay for them!” “Me?” stammered Grall. “Why me?” “Because she’s your horse!” Izzy snorted. “I’m nobody’s horse!” Oozol laughed. “Those are big words for someone who wears a saddle and is tied over a frame with a tax tag dangling between her legs.” He flicked the tag lightly, which made a metallic sound. “That doesn’t count, you tricked me!” “That’s nonsense, Buttercup. I asked you myself and you said yes.” Izzy was fuming. “But you didn’t tell me that you were going to pierce me down there with a ring!” “You could have asked any time. How was I supposed to know that you hadn’t noticed it with the other ponygirls? Besides, it was more than I do with other ponygirls. They aren’t asked at all,” said Grall’s father firmly. “I told you clearly and unambiguously: If you’re out and about as a ponygirl, I’ll treat you like one. If you were a girl, I wouldn’t have done that. But you’re ridden like a ponygirl, so you’ll be taxed like a ponygirl. The end.” Izzy was silent out of shame. What could she say? “How much does it cost?” asks Grall. “The tax tag or Buttercup?” his father joked, continuing to play with the tax tag with his fingers. “The tax tag costs 1,000 thalers a year. Looks like you’ll have to use your savings.” Grall swallowed loudly. “That much? I didn’t expect that.” “It was your own fault. Sunshine is already taxed. But you wanted Buttercup, now pay for her. Hopefully, you don’t end up paying for a whole ponygirl and only get her for a few days.” “Or ever again,” grumbled Izzy, whose most private part was still hurting despite the ointment. How humiliating! The goblins loosened her bonds and Izzy stood up. There was an entirely new feeling between her legs. The ring and the metal tag felt strangely foreign and cold, like something that didn’t really belong there. But with the blinders closed she couldn’t see anything, and she suspected that this was intentional — the two of them must have sensed her bad mood and preferred not to be seen. They were clever, Izzy had to give them that. Grall led her out, but Izzy was still a little in shock. It wasn’t just the utter humiliation of Oozol having provided her with a ring between her legs — without properly explaining it to her first! — no, it was the realization that Grall, of all people, had to pay for her. Like a commodity, a thing. An object. Something he could buy. It was for the tax, and not for her directly, but it still affected her. Didn’t that change everything? Did he now have a real claim on her? She shuddered at the thought. Whatever had happened to the fun rides that had started all this? In any case, swimming was now completely off the table, there was no doubt about that. Izzy wanted to say something, but Grall pushed the horse bit into her mouth and opened the blinders. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Just a small sting and now you’re safe,” Grall said to calm her down, but Izzy just snorted. She wanted to give up everything, but for now, she was happy just to get off the farm. She couldn’t stay here any longer. If that meant accepting Grall as her rider, then so be it. “Grall, you can work off your debts right away, or I’ll have to auction Buttercup off in the end,” Oozol suggested, laughing, but Izzy didn’t find that funny at all. “Well, since Buttercup has a tax tag, you can run an errand for me at the blacksmith. Take this order to Malsator and then deliver the things to me. You can do whatever you want for the rest of the day.” Grall told him about the problem with Sunshine. “I don’t like hearing that. Is that true, Buttercup?” Izzy nodded. “With other ponygirls, we would just give them a warning, unless Buttercup wants Sunshine to be punished.” Maybe it was the night in the stable that had ruined her mood, or the throbbing pain between her legs that she desperately needed a scapegoat for, but Izzy nodded vigorously. Or was she jealous after all? Izzy shook the thought aside. “Really?” Izzy stamped her hooves. Sunshine had attacked her for no reason, a little punishment wasn’t too much to ask, was it? How bad could it be? “Okay, let’s do it then. No one is allowed to annoy our Buttercup here, am I right,” he said in a voice usually only used for children, stroking Izzy’s flank. “Come on. Let’s make some money. You cost me a lot today. Animals are awfully expensive,” Grall joked, or at least Izzy hoped it was a joke, even though it wasn’t funny at all. Grall gave Izzy a little kick and drove her back down from the yard. Slowly it became a habit and Izzy realized how much she had lost control of her life — which was also reminded by the pain between her thighs with every step and the cold metallic feeling that would probably accompany her for the next few weeks. A carriage ride Grall led them onto one of the main roads in the area, and Izzy trembled — nowhere except right in the village could the danger of being seen by someone be greater than here. But on this morning the road was empty, no one was to be seen until the horizon, only the clop-clop of her hooves accompanied them on their journey. For Izzy, however, this was little consolation; the experiences of the morning were still stirring her up too much. The cold metal of the tax tag rubbed against her thigh and reminded her with every step that something important had changed. She hadn’t missed the change in Grall either, he was taking her more and more for granted as a ponygirl, and this ride was a good example. She had only got involved in this whole thing so that she could explore the forests and ruins together with him, but now she was simply his horse, and even had to go for a ride with him so that he could pay for her — and no one had asked her if she even wanted that. But then, you didn’t ask a horse where it wanted to be ridden, did you? She snorted discontentedly. To make matters worse, she’d been a ponygirl for days, and it didn’t look like that was going to change any time soon. If she wasn’t careful, he would surely put her in the stable every day just so she would be available when he needed her. She was happy to help her friend, but this was beyond the pale! A small kick snapped her out of her thoughts. “You’re slowing down, Buttercup. We’ll never get there like this.” He put her into a fast trot. She grumbled. After half an hour, it dawned on Izzy that something was different from the last few rides. Her poor sense of direction had struck again, and it was only the strong clues that put her on the right track: there were no goblins or ponygirls to be seen anywhere, and the houses were bigger than usual … they were human houses, and they were on their way to a human town! She neighed unhappily. “What’s going on?” asked Grall, confused. He followed her gaze and understood. “Malsator is a human blacksmith, I thought you knew that. He’s one of the few people who make things for ponygirls. One of the best in his field. You don’t have to worry; he works and lives in Udamos, it’s such a big town you won’t stand out.” Izzy wasn’t thrilled. While it wasn’t their first ride into the human world, it was the first time she would be seen by other humans nearly naked with a tax tag and in full ponygirl gear, with a rider on her back guiding her with her reins. It was humiliating. With the goblins it was part of everyday life, but with humans she would be considered a disgrace. How could he ask her to go there as a ponygirl? When exactly had the alternatives been swept off the table? She would have carried him in her arms a hundred times rather than humiliate herself like that! But what choice did she have? If she resisted the reins, she would probably have to walk back alone, and she didn’t have any spare clothes — without a saddle she would be even more naked than she already was now. Besides, Grall wouldn’t be able to make the journey without her. And despite the terrible insolence of the morning — again she felt the cold metal between her legs — he was still her friend, and she would rather not abandon him without a conversation. “I know what you’re thinking, but if I put something on you, people will look at you even more. But if you’re a normal ponygirl, you won’t stand out at all. Who pays attention to the horses that someone rides through the streets? You must be inconspicuous, and as a ponygirl you must be almost naked. Nobody will recognise you; nobody even knows you there. The town is so big that most people don’t even know their neighbours. Stay a ponygirl and you’re as good as invisible.” She grumbled, but he was probably right. Only if she blended in would she be overlooked. And it certainly wouldn’t be that different from the goblins; hardly anyone noticed her there either. And she was a little curious about the city; she had only known small villages before, but real cities were new to her. Two hours later, the impressive city wall of Udamos emerged from between the trees. Izzy stared open-mouthed — which was well filled by the bit — at the marvel that grew into the sky before them on the horizon. It was almost as high as the houses behind it and was only interrupted by a mighty gate that was currently raised. Carts and pedestrians gathered in front of it and waited for the gatekeepers to let them into the city one by one. It was a slow process, everything was inspected and, where possible, taxes were collected for entry. It was the usual bustle of a trading town and Izzy was about to become a part of it — but hopefully only as a visitor and not as a commodity, she thought and shuddered. They lined up at the end of the row under the suspicious gaze of the people, and to Izzy’s horror, she was the only ponygirl for miles around. All around her were men and women in modest and loose clothing that hid everything but their hands and faces under colourless and thick wool. She, on the other hand, showed almost everything that nature had given her, and it was obvious that she would not make any friends in this town this way; only a few of the men allowed themselves a few furtive glances. The queue made slow progress, but after almost half an hour it was finally their turn. A guard scrutinised them both critically before raising his voice: “Are you planning to sell this animal here, or are you taking it out of the city again?” Grall shrugged. “She’s my mount, I’m taking her back with me.” “Good, then you’ll have to pay a deposit for her. An animal of her quality costs…” he thought for a moment, “100 thalers.” Izzy raised an eyebrow; that was more than her father and she spent on food in a month, and it was only the deposit! Grall gulped too, but handed the money to the man, who in return slapped a stamp hard on Izzy’s bum, leaving a deposit number on her bottom. “Come back with the animal, and I’ll give you your money back. I see you taxed her properly.” To Izzy’s horror, he reached between her legs and held the tax tag. “Not that we care about that here, the taxes are for the goblins. But we don’t want any trouble with them. Don’t bring any horse or livestock into town that doesn’t have a valid tax tag.” Grall was about to urge Izzy on when the man raised his hand once more. “But remember, this is a clean town. If your pet goes anywhere, you’ll clean it up and pay a fine!” Izzy turned bright red, who did this man think she was? Oh yeah, a ponygirl… “And stay on this side of the river. The town is divided in two. Because you goblins are disturbing the real animals, you can’t cross the bridge!” At the word “real” he looked at Izzy patronisingly, which was the first time he’d ever looked her in the eyes. Even for humans in this form, she was just an animal that didn’t need to be talked to. Grall nodded and drove Izzy through the gate. The city was crowded, noisy and filthy — even if the guard had said otherwise. Izzy wasn’t used to this crowdedness, on all sides the houses rose two or three storeys into the sky and hid the sun better than the canopies of the trees in the forest. It was an impressive atmosphere, full of life and disorder that Izzy had never seen before. There was no quiet corner anywhere, and every house had a shop selling something different. There were cups, vegetables, chairs, weapons, books, and anything else a girl — or horse — could imagine. But although there were a few goblins to be seen here, Izzy remained the only ponygirl; not even a cart was pulled by one, instead the humans did it themselves. And contrary to what Grall had claimed, she was the centre of attention. People turned to look at her and whispered behind their backs. It was humiliating and one of the worst things Izzy had experienced in her short career as a ponygirl. The children in particular pointed at her and many laughed, the boys were especially cruel, while the girls stared at her almost angrily, like a traitor to her own kind. Only a little girl with a torn dress looked at them with interest. “Why are you riding that woman?” she asked in a squeaky voice that cracked with every word. “Was she bad?” Grall laughed. “No, she’s my horse. Have you never seen a ponygirl before?” “Yes, lots of them!” The girl obviously lied because she was still staring at Izzy full of curiosity. “Can I ride her, too?” Izzy’s eyes widened, but Grall held her head straight with the reins. The blinkers made it difficult for her to see the girl, but she felt the tug on both reins and heard the loud “Tack!”, which made her bend her knees as if of her own accord. She trembled nervously as Grall climbed out of the saddle and looked around for the girl’s mother or father, but no one seemed to be interested in the child. “Get in the saddle. Buttercup is very tame, you don’t need to be afraid,” Grall said cheerfully, seemingly ignoring the onlookers who were watching in disgust. But nobody stopped the child from climbing into Izzy’s saddle — which would have been fine for Izzy. What had been the plan — to blend into the crowd and not attract attention? Grall didn’t seem to remember, but he took Izzy’s reins and led her through the streets with the laughing child on her back. “Faster little horse. Giddy up, giddy up!” the girl cried loudly, kicking Izzy painfully in the side again and again. It was bad enough to have a goblin on her back, but in a strange way it was even more humiliating to be ridden by a human, even if it was a child. For goblins, there was no other choice, but this child was just using her for her entertainment. Izzy neighed in displeasure, but that only seemed to entertain the girl even more. “Good horse, good horse!” After a few minutes, Grall stopped Izzy outside a small shop on the main road. “End of the line, everyone dismounts, please,” he shouted and, to Izzys relief, helped the girl out of the saddle. At least that horror was over. “Mira, what are you doing here?” asked an exhausted woman who grabbed the girl. “I rode the horse!” said Mira proudly, but her mother was horrified. “You touched that… THING…? That’s terrible! Come on, let’s go!” Grall looked after her, shrugging his shoulders. “I guess you can’t please some people.” To her horror, he tied Izzy to a low fence in front of the shop and, to her surprise, also tied her legs. She looked at him questioningly, but he just shrugged his shoulders. “It’s the law here. I’m sure it won’t take long. Wait here for me and don’t go anywhere.” She neighed in shock. Grall patted her on the bum — which caused some laughter among the onlookers — and disappeared into the shop. A small crowd had gathered around her, and Izzy suddenly felt terribly alone and vulnerable. She stood bent over, realising how much she was revealing, and hurriedly knelt on the cold floor. The people around her kept their distance, but she sensed that this would not last if Grall did not return soon. When he was still not back after 10 minutes, a child — a boy of probably 10 — was the first to dare to come forward. “Get away from there!” shouted his mum, but like most boys, he didn’t listen. He hopped over to Izzy and poked her lightly in the side, then he darted back behind his mum and giggled. Soon other children followed him, and it became a test of courage to touch Izzy. At first, it was any place, but soon the children increased the risk and the places became more dangerous — sometimes it was her head, then her hands, and soon intimate places like her breasts or as close between her legs as they dared. Izzy tried to fend them off, but they were coming from all directions at once, and without her hands there wasn’t much she could do. A watchman stopped the game. “Stop it now! We don’t tolerate that kind of trouble here.” To Izzy’s surprise, he gave her a stern look as if it was her fault. “Any more nonsense like that and you’ll be fined!” Izzy looked at him with wide eyes, but the guard simply left her standing there. Thereafter, Izzy had a few minutes of peace, but the sun — which had risen above the roofs of the houses — was now burning mercilessly down on her. There was no shade and no protection, neither from the sun nor from the eyes of passers-by; even though the children were now gone, her ordeal did not end there. She was looking longingly towards the shop when she felt a hand on her bottom. Before she could turn around, the man had already run off. She growled after him, but another hand brushed across her chest, then another across her bottom. They came in quick succession, and she barely got to see the culprits. The men walked just past her, forming an impenetrable wall that hid her from the view of others. The utter helplessness and meanness almost drove Izzy mad! It was dreadful and absolutely humiliating. It took Grall’s loud shout to scare the men away like a flock of pigeons. “Get away, or I’ll bite your legs, you filthy scum!” Grall hissed at the men; Izzy had never seen him so angry. A woman stood to the side with her arms by her side. “That’s what happens to someone like that. Take her away and don’t come back,” she babbled, spitting on the ground. Her eyes revealed that she also thought the whole thing was Izzy’s fault. “Man-stealer!” Izzy’s eyes burned like fire. She didn’t want to be here, it was Grall’s idea! Indeed, she couldn’t throw that at her with the bit in her mouth. Grall would have to listen to a lot from Izzy for that stupid idea to come here! Only now did Izzy realise that Grall was heaving a couple of heavy saddlebags out of the shop. He attached them one by one to Izzy’s saddle, which was pulled down by the weight. Altogether, they weighed considerably more than Grall, and he wasn’t even sitting on her back. She neighed discontentedly, but Grall patted her on the neck and held out one of the treats. Izzy was torn. On the one hand, she was furious with him, but it was also one of those wonderful treats. But did she really want to eat out of his hand? That’s what she wanted to ask herself, but she had her mouth on his hand faster than her head could think. He chuckled at the touch of her lips and stroked her head, then swung himself halfway elegantly into the saddle. “I’m sorry you had to wait so long,” he said when they were already on their way to the city gate. “Some things weren’t ready. We’ll have to come back tomorrow.” She shook her head vigorously. “Only once more, I promise.” At the city gate, Grall got his pledge back, but the guard stopped him once more. “I told my nephew about your horse. He knows a goblin who would give you a fine price for a mare like that. Think about it.” Grall wrenched his arm from the man’s grasp and rode out of the gate without a word. He led Izzy on the long walk home — or rather, to Oozol’s farm, Izzy thought — while she groaned under the weight of the shopping. Only once did they have to stop for a quick pee, and Grall insisted they use it for exercise. Izzy waited for minutes until Grall finally gave the order. — The sun continued to burn hot and Izzy was glad when the farm finally appeared in front of them. Grall tied her to a post and waved a couple of grooms over to take her clothes off the saddle. “I need to discuss something with my father, you wait here,” he said, although tied to the post, Izzy had no choice anyway. But at least she no longer had to carry the shopping. As on many days, the courtyard was bustling with activity, but something was new: a large, festively decorated carriage stood in the square and was being lovingly cleaned by a few helpers. The large wooden rims supported the heavy frame of a white, closed carriage decorated with flowers and gold paint. It was the most beautiful and impressive carriage Izzy had ever seen — although carriages of this kind were rare anyway: Humans here lacked horses, and goblins preferred to ride directly on their ponygirls. But this carriage was unusual; it was clearly made for ponygirls, but at the same time big enough for humans to travel in. While Izzy stared at the carriage in fascination, Sunshine was taken out of her stable. The pony snorted angrily in Izzy’s direction as she was tied in front of the carriage. “Where’s the second horse?” shouted Gribat, but the other grooms just shrugged their shoulders. “Where’s Pexo?” “He rode into the village on a ponygirl,” replied one of the grooms, his eyes flashing. “That fool, he took Moonlight with him!” Gribat rolled his eyes. “Great, just what I need… We need a horse with similar strength, where do I get one now? The others are too inexperienced, untrained, or weak!” He hit the carriage and kicked a stone so hard that Izzy had to dodge it. “I’m sorry, Buttercup, you…” He hesitated. “You’re just what we need!” Izzy stepped nervously as Gribat untied her. She already suspected where this was leading; she neighed and braced herself vigorously against the reins, but Gribat slapped her hard on the arse. “Don’t give me any trouble, Buttercup, we’re already too late!” She snorted and tried desperately to find Grall somewhere, but Gribat slapped her bum again a few times until she finally gave up. Her eyes burned with fiery fury, but the goblin was unfazed; he was probably already well-used to unruly horses, and Izzy was certainly not the worst animal he had seen that day. He led her directly in front of the carriage, where he tied her to the side. Izzy glanced at Sunshine, who stared back with narrowed eyes. The news of her punishment must have already reached her, and that probably hadn’t improved her opinion of Izzy. Izzy swallowed nervously and felt her hands being secured and then the saddle removed. Next, a heavy wooden and leather harness was placed over her shoulder and tied across her body with wide straps. The harness wasn’t very heavy, but it was solid and had several rings and fastenings so that the cart could be attached to it — something Izzy knew only too well, after all, she could already see it on Sunshine. She followed Gribat to the front of the carriage, where she was tied to the harness on the drawbar with thick straps and lines. Izzy shivered slightly and avoided looking to her right, the closeness to Sunshine was particularly uncomfortable, and when Gribat didn’t look, Sunshine even gave her a little kick. Izzy snorted angrily, but Sunshine just giggled through her horse bit, which like Izzy’s was connected to the rider’s reins. “Good, now just a little decoration. I want you two to look good!” he said cheerfully, waving a goblin girl with a flower basket to join him. The two of them attached the fresh flowers all over Izzy and Sunshine: on their straps, in their hair, behind their ears and even in some more intimate areas. Both now smelled like a whole flower patch, and Izzy couldn’t help but grin when she saw Sunshine’s colourful decorations next to her with a sombre expression on her face. But what kind of ride was this going to be, Izzy wondered. Why such an elaborate carriage, and why all the flowers? Of course, she didn’t get an answer to her thoughts, although she wasn’t sure if she would have been told if she had asked. You don’t usually explain things to a horse. “We’re done” Gribat shouted, hastily changing into a black suit and putting on a tall hat, which looked a bit silly on a small goblin like him. Gribat, on the other hand, looked extremely pleased as he climbed into the driver’s seat. He released the brakes and let a long whip whiz through the air. The crack right above her head startled Izzy and she pushed with all her might, while Sunshine was not yet ready. The jolt pulled her feet out from under her and she hung bleating in the harness. Gribat immediately applied the brakes and scolded them loudly: “You two must do this together. It will only work if you’re on the same beat. Try it again!” Sunshine and Izzy glared at each other; it was obvious that this was not going to be an easy ride. In fact, Izzy would have preferred anything to taking on this humiliating role. She was human, for crying out loud, she thought, why would she be pulling a carriage anyway? This was Grall’s fault again, he just forgot too often that he had to take better care of her on the farm! The whip cracked above them, and now Sunshine pushed forwards with all her might, causing Izzy to lose her balance. The harness stopped her fall, but it also took her breath away for a moment. She gasped, and her feet dragged on the ground until Gribat pulled on the brakes. Sunshine almost doubled over with laughter. “You two are really going to get the whip if you don’t stop this nonsense. We’ll try again, but don’t you dare continue playing these games!” The whip cracked and the carriage slowly began to move. Izzy and Sunshine grumbled at each other, but both wanted to avoid the whip, so at least they tried to find a common rhythm. It wasn’t easy, they both wanted to set the pace, but eventually, they agreed. Their hooves went clop-clop-clop and the sound of their synchronised pace echoed across the square. “There you go! Now just watch the reins and we’ll make good progress.” Sunshine neighed angrily and was punished with the whip. The thin leather kissed her round bottom and the ponygirl squealed in surprise. “Don’t give me any more trouble, from here on, you have to be on your best behaviour!” The journey continued for an hour along the wide roads of the countryside and, to Izzy’s displeasure, led them back to the human side of the island. Their destination was a rich village behind a hill that the people of her own village usually avoided, but at least they wouldn’t recognise her there. Still, that was little comfort, her last experience with humans as a ponygirl was still deep in her bones, and she shivered at the thought of what awaited her in this village. Still, she had no choice, the whip would force Gribats will on her, she knew that only too well. The carriage rattled over the old cobblestones of the village street; the houses were empty, but loud shouts came from a large manor house at the end of the village, where residents had already gathered, all wearing their finest clothes — just like Izzy and Sunshine, only they were humans and not animals — and staring excitedly at the wide front door of the manor. Izzy and Sunshine looked at each other questioningly, but as always, there was no explanation. The mystery was solved when the door opened: a bride and a groom in their best clothes stepped out to the cheers of the audience. The two ponygirls gulped: They were the draught animals for a wedding carriage! Izzy neighed nervously and Sunshine wasn’t happy either. Izzy couldn’t blame her, it was a strange feeling being an animal for a human celebration; tethered to a carriage with a horse bit in her mouth while people in normal clothes celebrated around them, as if there was nothing unusual about two nearly naked young women who would feel the whip on their bums if they weren’t careful. There was no slavery in this world among humans, and yet here Izzy and Sunshine were now, and no one minded. The married couple smiled happily and waved to the crowd, only the bride seemed to notice the ponygirls and grinned at them. So it wasn’t a shock for her to see the horses — it seemed more like it was part of her dream wedding that her carriage was being pulled by ponygirls. That was rather unusual for humans, but some people must like the idea of having such power overs. But there was something else about this situation that made Izzy’s heart ache. As the couple celebrated with their guests, she realised how different her life at the moment and her possible future — like Sunshine’s — was from these people. A ponygirl would never get married, never find a man — at least not one who wasn’t a stallion — and never wear a wedding dress. None of this was meant for a ponygirl, an animal. Izzy looked at Sunshine, but she was just staring at the bride, weeping; Izzy understood well what was going on in her mate’s mind at that moment. She herself still had a choice, but for Sunshine, that was long in the past. Izzy gulped too; while this bride wore a beautiful white dress, Izzy had to make do with a few straps and a tax tag on a ring between her legs. And should she continue down this path, a brand on her bum would be the best she could expect. After the couple had climbed into the carriage, the whip cracked over their heads again. The two horses immediately found their rhythm, partly because Izzy now took special care of Sunshine, whose wet eyes just stared blankly at the ground. The journey took them through the dense forest and along an old path to a small harbour by the sea, where the bridal couple boarded a small boat. Without further explanation, Gribat turned the carriage round and steered it back to the farm. The whole journey had only taken a few hours, but for Izzy it had not only been exhausting, it had also shown her once again how much she, as a ponygirl, was just an object to be used and how unglamorous her future was with a horse bit in her mouth — but also what she would lose in such a life. Arriving at the courtyard, Oozol marched to the carriage. “You shouldn’t have taken her without asking me!” he scolded, pointing at Izzy, who was grateful for his words but would still have preferred to stay away from him; the metal between her legs was warning enough of what he was capable of. “She’s owned by my son, and she’s not one of the usual horses!” Izzy snorted at “owned”, but with the horse bit in her mouth, it was pointless — and kind of inappropriate — to argue. “The job was important after all, she survived it. Should I have left the carriage?” “No, of course not. Just ask next time!” Oozol grumbled and helped to free Izzy from the carriage. Once she was free, Grall joined them, but his father raised his hand before he could say anything. “I’ve already sorted it out. In future, he’ll ask before he uses your horse. But Buttercup did well too, you can be proud of her. Just one more request: My grooms are all busy with training at the moment, and we have a new ponygirl — Lisande — in the stable. Grall, would you please wash her? Take Izzy with you. I’m sure she’ll cause less trouble with her.” Grall led Izzy along, but she struggled against the reins when they were out of sight. The goblin looked at her confused, then took the bit out of her mouth. “What’s wrong?” “Take this stuff off me, I’ve had more than enough.” As requested, Grall took the ponygirl clothes from her and handed her a clean dress that she had stored with him. It was strange to be human again; Grall didn’t look entirely satisfied. “I liked you better as a horse,” he grumbled, and Izzy slapped him hard on the back of the head. “What was that about? Why are you being so touchy?” “You’ve earned it. For the tax tag, and for making me sleep in the stable as a horse because of you.” “It wasn’t my fault with the tax tag, you just needed one,” he defended himself, rubbing the back of his head unnecessarily hard. “They would have auctioned you off otherwise!” Izzy rolled her eyes. “Then you could at least have asked me. Besides, why don’t your stables have beds? Are you too stingy to give your horses at least a little comfort?” Grall laughed now. “What’s a horse supposed to do with a bed?” “Oh, so you think we don’t need one just because you tie our hands together?” “We? Ours?” Grall grinned mischievously, but under her stern gaze he preferred to answer the question quickly. “It’s not easy for many of the horses to part with their old lives. A bed is an unpleasant memory; it’s easier for them without it.” “And what about me?” “What about you? We simply don’t have any beds in the stables, there’s nothing I can do about that. I didn’t realise you were so sensitive!” “You’re an idiot, Grall. If we hadn’t been friends for so long…” She didn’t finish the sentence and walked towards the stable Oozol had pointed to. “I think my father wanted me to wash you both,” Grall remarked, but Izzy just shook her head. “I’ll wash myself later,” she said, and looked into the stable. Inside was a young woman, perhaps only days older than Izzy. Like all ponygirls, she had a bit in her mouth and her hands and legs were tied. She looked up and her big eyes gazed helpfully at Izzy, who must have seemed like a rescue to her. “She was captured a few days ago in Dexios, which is a land across the sea to the north. She’s only been officially registered as a ponygirl since yesterday.” “I know where Dexios is,” Izzy grumbled. “So she’s not from a breeding?” Grall shook his head. “No, foals born to a ponygirl are registered as soon as they are born.” Izzy watched the shackled woman — no, the shackled ponygirl, she corrected herself — in the stable thoughtfully. She swallowed. It was strange to see another human being treated like this, but she also knew very well that there was nothing she could do to change her fate. This was simply the reality in this corner of the world — she herself had had a horse’s bit in her mouth just a few minutes ago. “Do you want to wash her?” Grall asked cautiously, and Izzy looked at him in surprise at first, but then she nodded. Of course … that was at least something she could do for this poor creature. A little human closeness and warmth might make it easier for her to accept her future. Izzy gulped and struggled to get the words out. “Hi. Oozol sent us to wash you. Will you be good?” Izzy bit her tongue, she had heard this question too many times herself. The woman — the pony, Izzy corrected herself in her mind — stood up and came to the door; she tried to say something, but Izzy raised her hand: “Don’t talk, or you’ll get in trouble. I know all about that.” Izzy grimaced. The pony looked at her questioningly, but Izzy just took a collar from the wall and put it on the surprised pony. Izzy stroked her head, causing the ponygirl to tremble. The collar was followed by a lead, which Izzy used to get the pony out of the stable and lead her to the washing area, where she tied her to a post. It was a strange feeling, leading another human around like this, but if she didn’t do it, one of the goblins would. “Wait, I’ll help you,” said Grall, but the pony tried to kick him as best she could with her bound legs. “Calm down! Fine, then only Izzy here will do it. But you’ll have to stop doing that or my father will punish you severely. He doesn’t tolerate dangerous animals on the farm.” At the word “animal”, the pony tried to kick him again, but Izzy held her firmly. “Calm down. I’m going to wash you, he’s not going to touch you today.” At these words from Izzy, the pony relaxed a little. “Have you been washed as a ponygirl yet?” asked Izzy. The pony grimaced at the mention of her new title, then shook her head. “Well, they’ve only done it to me twice. But we’ll manage.” Izzy loosened the bridle and took the bit out of her mouth. The pony immediately started talking: “Please, you have to free me. These green creatures want to ride me! Like an ANIMAL!” “Relax, that’s completely normal here. You’re a ponygirl, Lisande, you don’t have to be afraid. They’ll train you well and you’ll be a good horse.” These words did not come easily to Izzy, but even if the truth might hurt, it was better than a lie. She looked compassionately into the young woman’s eyes — she knew there was nothing she could do to change her fate. What good would it do to give her unnecessary hope? “What, are you completely insane? Besides, my name is Nelia!” “Not any more,” said Grall, keeping a safe distance. Lisande hissed angrily at Grall. “You monsters even gave me a brand!” The pony turned her bum towards Izzy, and sure enough, there was a large brand there, which had also been filled in with colour to make it easier to see. “Please, you have to let me go.” “I can’t, you’re their property. Please be quiet now, or they’ll punish you,” Izzy said unhappily when she noticed the looks from Grall and the grooms. When Lisande opened her mouth again, Izzy put a bar of soap in her mouth. “If you spit it out, I won’t be able to help you. Please, I’m truly sorry about what happened to you, but you’re on a ponygirl farm. And you’re a ponygirl. Forever. There’s no going back.” Izzy feels a stab in her heart at these words. How close was she to hearing them herself? “Please, don’t make this harder than it has to be.” “Listen to Izzy, she knows what she’s talking about,” Grall said, but Izzy just pushed him aside. “Get out, you’re not needed here,” she snapped at him. It felt good to be free again and to be able to put Grall back in his place. “But…” “Go. NOW!” Izzy demanded. Grall looked at her questioningly once more, then limped away, cursing. Lisande glared at Izzy with hatred, then nodded. Izzy took the soap from her mouth again and gave the new ponygirl some water from a jug so that she could wash her mouth out. The disgust remained in her eyes, but at least she kept quiet. It was still uncomfortable for Izzy; how much this girl reminded her of herself — and the danger she had grown closer to with each passing day. Lisande was a few steps ahead, but also a few steps behind — only Izzy had a tax tag of them both, and only Izzy had already been ridden and pulled a cart. “The goblins are all a bit strange. But you’ll have to get used to them, you’re theirs now. I’m sorry for what happened to you, but don’t try to escape; it would be pointless with the brand. I’m going to wash you now. It’s probably going to be a bit awkward, but you’ll get used to it.” Izzy took a bucket of warm water from the fire, put the soap in it and grabbed a clean sponge. First, she poured some water over Lisandes head, who squealed with fright. She spread the soap over her mane and massaged it in thoroughly, just as she had learnt from Pexo. It was strange to do what had been done to her twice, but at least now she knew what to do. “You’re a good horse,” she praised in the same tone she hated so much — but it had an effect. Lisande calmed down and relaxed a little. Izzy took the sponge and washed the ponygirls face, then her neck, shoulders, and arms. “Did the brand hurt a lot?” Lisande nodded hastily and opened her mouth, but changed her mind under Izzy’s stern gaze and just grimaced. “This next step might be a bit weird, but the goblins will do the same. You’ll get used to it.” Izzy reached for the sponge and began to soap Lisande’s breasts. Her eyes grew bigger by the second until they almost seemed to fall out of her head. “It’s strange for sure, but it’s quite nice, isn’t it?” Lisande just shook her head vigorously. “Oh, I guess it’s just me then…” She moistened the sponge again and didn’t warn Lisande about the next step. How could she warn her, how could she say that? Sometimes actions were better than words. She reached between Lisande’s legs with the sponge and looked forgivingly into the other woman’s eyes as she howled loudly. “Stop that!” Lisande shouted loud enough for all the goblins in the courtyard to turn to her. Izzy acted quickly. She grabbed Lisande, bent her over one knee and gave her two hard slaps on the bum. It made her very unhappy, but she also knew it was better than what she had to expect from the goblins. “Be quiet. You could sing all day long for all I care, but the goblins don’t like talking animals.” Without further ado, she turned back to Lisande’s lower body and finished the job without further resistance, but under the ponygirls’ hurt gaze. Shortly afterwards, the legs were also clean, making the horse shine in front of her in all her glory. “You did a good job,” praised Izzy, ruffling the confused Lisande’s mane. For a moment, Izzy was almost proud of her work, but then reality came back like a hammer blow: Lisande was not here by choice, she had lost her old life to the goblin hunters. It wasn’t like Izzy herself, who endured everything willingly. Izzy’s heart sank into her stomach, and the pity for this poor woman was overwhelming, but before she could do anything stupid, Oozol stood beside her. His words startled her, and she almost jumped into Lisande’s arms had they not been tied behind her back. “You finished just in time. We will take Lisande to her stable, then we’ll punish Sunshine.” Lisande and Izzy looked at each other uncertainly, neither of them had noticed the change in the training ground, they were too busy with each other and the intimate experience they had shared. A dense line of ponygirls ran once in a circle around the arena, blocking the view of whatever lay at its centre. Izzy shuddered, her anger at Sunshine was long gone, and this parade could mean nothing good. The punishment The ponygirls around Sunshine filled the entire training area. They stood shoulder to shoulder — firmly secured in their ponygirl gear — and stared at Sunshine, who waited fearfully in their midst. The grooms stood in front of the ponygirls, but as they were all goblins, the horses could easily see over them. The atmosphere was tense, especially when Izzy was guided to the side. The other ponygirls’ gazes seemed to pierce her, not a single smile to be seen. It wasn’t difficult to guess that punishments weren’t very popular with the ponygirls, and those they blamed were even more unpopular. Izzy lowered her head in embarrassment — even if it wasn’t her fault that Sunshine had attacked her! Oozol pushed past Izzy and went to Sunshine, but Grall’s little sister Saxea threw herself at his feet. “Please, Dad, you can’t do that. She won’t do it again. You promised she was mine. Please don’t do that!” The little goblin girl had tears in her eyes, but Oozol stood firm. He gestured one of the grooms over and had Saxea brought into the house. Sunshine stood next to a special rack — which Izzy recognised from the tax tag and sent a shiver down her spine — and waited nervously. Oozol gave her a short command to lie down on the rack, belly first. She looked briefly at Izzy, then shakily obeyed the order and waited until Oozol had secured her well with several straps. The old goblin then went to a crate and pulled out a large whip that would have looked impressive even in the hands of a human. He whirled it around and a sharp, cutting crack broke the silence. Izzy swallowed. She had expected extra work for Sunshine, perhaps a hard slap on the bum, or some worse food, but not a whip like this; it was a sharp-tongued beast, made only to punish. The goblins’ riding crops looked like toys in comparison. Oozol waited until the first murmur had died down. “There are clear rules on this farm. They may seem harsh to some, but they guarantee that every horse understands its role. If a ponygirl breaks these rules, she will be punished. Sunshine has broken one of the most important rules: she has attacked someone. There is no tolerance for violence on this farm.” Some ponygirls neighed angrily, and Izzy knew why; she recognised the irony in the words, too. The goblins weren’t always gentle with the horses, they often used whips, spurs, or the palm of their hand — obviously animals and goblins were held to different standards. “As punishment, Sunshine is whipped: 5 strokes on the bum, 5 on the breasts.” The other ponygirls became restless, some stomping up furiously. It was clear that they understood the severity of the punishment well. Izzy caught a few nasty looks. Grall’s father stood behind Sunshine and lashed out. He swung wide and scratched a red welt on her bottom with the whip. She howled and he repeated it four times. Each stroke sent a jolt through the entire row of ponygirls, and Izzy was no exception. Some had tears in their eyes, but Sunshine stood firm. She turned onto her back with a fixed gaze and endured the next strokes. When the punishment was finished, Oozol took a healing paste and took his time to carefully treat all of Sunshine’s marks — even he seemed affected by the punishment, his face was red and his eyes moist. The other ponygirls also looked exhausted, and Izzy suspected that she hadn’t made any friends among the ponygirls today. The grooms took the mares back to their stables and left Izzy with Grall. “If you sleep here tonight, we could quickly pick up the things from the blacksmith tomorrow and then head back into the forest. What do you think?” asked Grall, as if nothing had happened, although he too looked a little battered. Izzy shook her head firmly; the farm had just lost much of its already little charm for her. She would rather not stay a second longer than necessary — because of Oozol, the other ponygirls, and the fear of her future that she had just clearly seen before her. “Forget it. No more riding!” “But…” stuttered Grall in surprise. “Why not, what’s wrong? Come on!” Izzy had a thousand good reasons, but she was still a bit in shock and couldn’t find a single suitable word. “Just … because I don’t want to! And the tax tag comes off tomorrow too!” “But…” Grall stammered again, yet he couldn’t fight her hard stare. “Then don’t!” He threw his hands up in the air angrily and marched off without turning round again. “So much money for nothing!” Izzy glared after him; what right did he have to be offended? He wasn’t risking a whipping, a night in a stable or a life with a bit in his mouth! Was the money for the tax more important to him than her friendship? She kicked an old bucket hard and disappeared from the yard. — The next day, Izzy marched through the gate of Oozol’s farm, her eyes fixed directly on Grall, who looked up in surprise. “You… changed your mind, didn’t you?” he asked hopefully, but Izzy shook her head. “If we’re still friends, I hope I’m enough for you.” He tilted his head. “Of course we’re still friends, I just thought…” “What? That one night would change my mind?” Grall nodded cautiously. “You changed your mind earlier. We have to go to Udamos again. It’s too far for me to walk.” Izzy felt a groom’s hand on her arm, but she pushed him away. “Don’t try that, nobody saddles me any more! If you have to go to Udamos, it’s definitely not on my back.” “Come on, you’re a good ponygirl, why can’t you see that?” “Oh, that’s exactly the problem! If it’s up to you, I’m your animal, I stand in the stable all day waiting for you. You don’t even think about what all this means for me.” Grall crossed his arms in front of his chest, but said nothing. “What’s wrong, you always have something to say,” demanded Izzy. “I’m not ashamed of the fact that I think you’re a good horse. No, the best! There isn’t another ponygirl on the whole farm that can hold a candle to you. I would be proud to have you in my stable! You can’t imagine how exciting it was for me when you were already saddled up and waiting for me in the morning.” “But that’s not enough for me!” “Why not? What’s so bad about being a ponygirl?” “It’s humiliating. You’re ignored, used and beaten. Besides, did you see the way people looked at me yesterday?” Grall grumbled. “Fools. You can’t let idiots like that affect you.” Izzy hesitated. “What’s the matter? You know you can ask me anything you want.” She took a deep breath. “As a ponygirl, would you punish me like Sunshine?” “Why would we punish you like that?” he asked, surprised. “You wouldn’t attack anyone, would you?” “I mean hypothetically. If I did…” “That’s silly, you’re not like Sunshine.” “But if I did!” Grall chewed on his lower lip. “Hypothetically speaking… if you were a ponygirl on our farm and attacked someone, we’d punish you. But that’s rubbish, you wouldn’t do that! You’re far too tame for that!” She snorted… tame only describes an animal, not a person. “Am I a ponygirl to you?” “None like the others, but if you were to attack someone whilst wearing a saddle on your back, you would be a ponygirl for us, at least at that moment. My father made that clear. And he’s probably right.” Izzy shivered. She had seen what had happened to Sunshine, and now it was clear that she was not protected from it. “Don’t worry, that will never happen. You’re a great and sweet girl.” “That’s the point, though, you don’t understand; you’ve never had a bit in your mouth or had to be scared of a whip. I’m not a ponygirl, and I never will be again.” “You’re right, I don’t know what that’s like. I’m not any good as a ponygirl — look at my short legs. Not even a mouse would want to ride me.” He grinned at her. “They really are a bit short.” Izzy giggled slightly. “Why did you ride me into town, anyway? Was there no other way?” Grall thought for a moment, then decided to tell the truth. “It was quick and easy. But I should have asked you, I realise that now. We only have to go one more time today. Can I ride you?” “No!” The goblin lowered his head. “All right. Then I’ll ask my father for a cart. It’ll take a lot longer, and not half as much fun, but if I have to… would you at least like to come with me? It’s a boring journey alone.” “It didn’t bother you on our rides, did it?” He playfully kicked her shoe. “You don’t need to rub any more salt in the wound, I get it. Besides, I was never alone, you were always right in front of me.” “Wait,” Oozol shouted and ran to them. “I need you to give me one last hand, then you can ride off.” “Izzy doesn’t want to be a ponygirl any more,” Grall explained. “We’ll take a horse and cart.” “That’s her decision. But you can clean out a stable, can’t you?” Izzy grimaced but nodded. He sent her to the furthest stables and she marched off immediately. Her path also led past the stable of the stallion she had seen a few days ago. She looked in sneakily and saw him sitting in the far corner. He was an impressive sight, but when he looked up briefly, she hurried on. Most of the stables were quite clean and only one was still occupied. To Izzy’s horror, Sunshine sat in a corner while Saxea combed her mane. They both looked up, and the air seemed to have become much colder. “Come on, let’s go,” Saxea said, pulling Sunshine behind her by her reins. Sunshine’s leg twitched and Izzy jumped to the side, but the other horse just giggled. Stupid mare, Izzy thought briefly, but then she felt a little guilty. The punishment was very harsh. Izzy pushed the thought aside and set about cleaning the stable. It took a while to get all the stables clean, and Izzy realised she was a little quicker than Oozol and Grall, who were still busy with their work. There was a lot of activity around her but no one paid her any particular attention. In fact, it was one of the few moments when she was unnoticed and free in the farmyard. Her eyes wandered around and lingered once more on the stallion’s stable. “He must be pretty bored,” she whispered to herself, as if she had to convince herself that there was a real reason to go to him again. A reason other than pure curiosity, anyway. Her legs moved as if by themselves, but she was careful not to be seen. It was probably not forbidden to go to him, but something deep inside her told her that it would not go uncommented. Her back pressed against the hard wood next to the open upper door of his stable, then she gathered her courage and half-turned to face his door. He looked up again and looked her straight in the eye. His muscles seemed to tense, while Izzy’s legs softened. “Hi,” she stuttered, feeling terribly stupid. It was the same stupid high-pitched squeak she usually laughed at other girls for when they talked to a boy. But this wasn’t a boy, that much was certain. He seemed quite excited to see Izzy, that too was unmistakable. But there was something else Izzy noticed: Not only was he tied up, but he was also tied to the back wall with a thick chain, obviously thought to be far more dangerous than the ponygirls. In a strange way, that made him even more interesting. She swallowed and licked her lips. “What’s your name?” she asked, but immediately cringed at the stupid question; how was he supposed to say that with a bit in his mouth, but he just nodded sideways, pointing to a sign next to his stall that Izzy had overlooked until now, “Titan. Breeding stallion.” Izzy swallowed again; the word “Stallion” had a strange effect on her. “Do you like him?” it came from the side, and Izzy’s heart almost stopped. It was Oozol, who had approached surprisingly quietly. She still felt very uncomfortable around him, but he didn’t seem to notice — or chose to ignore it. He climbed the steps by the door and looked in too. “I think he likes you,” Oozol said, and the stallion tugged at his bonds. “A mare shouldn’t approach him like that unless she’s willing to do what it takes to calm him down again…” He raised an eyebrow, and Izzy immediately took a few steps back. “I just wanted to check on him. He seemed so lonely.” Oozol smiled. “No doubt you would suit him as company. But believe me, stallions are not known for being romantic.” Izzy bit her tongue. It was bad enough being so close to Oozol, but for him to think of her that way … “Come, there’s something else you can do instead.” He led her to Lisande’s stall, who was crouching in front of the door with her head bowed. “Up you go, you’ll get your new gear today.” Lisande curled up and turned her back to them, but Oozol had no patience for that. He opened the door and slapped the ponygirl hard on the bum with his hand, right under the brand. “Up you go, or you’ll be punished,” Oozol said, “You’ve seen what that looks like today.” The ponygirl neighed unhappily and slowly pushed herself to her feet, which she was still visibly struggling to do without arms. It was strange for Izzy to see another ponygirl so early in her development and to compare herself to her. Why had this all come so much easier to me, she asked herself, shaking slightly. Oozol attached a leash to Lisande’s collar and led her out, tying her to a post next to a small pile of ponygirl gear. “Lisande is still a foal, but today she will take the first step to becoming a young horse,” he said to Izzy, then turned to the horse. “You’re lucky, Izzy here is already a riding horse — at least she was — few ponygirls are lucky enough to learn directly from one like her. Watch out when she puts your gear on.” “You want me to do that?” asked Izzy in surprise. Oozol nodded. “It will help you to understand ponygirls from the other side, too. Start with the saddle, then her hands are already secured.” “I know that,” Izzy grumbled, after all it wasn’t the first time for her either, only this time it wasn’t her arms that ended up under the saddle. The leather felt strange in her hands, not as high quality as her own. “The saddle will be unfamiliar at first, but you have nothing to worry about, they’re actually quite comfortable.” Lisande seemed less sure, shaking all over and looking at Izzy with wide eyes. But she nodded weakly and turned away so that Izzy could easily place the saddle on her back. The ponygirl shuddered at the touch of the leather. Izzy hurriedly walked around her and tied the top straps first, her hands shaking no less than Grall’s hands had done when he first tried to saddle her. “This next one is a little awkward, but it has to be done.” She grabbed Lisande between the legs, who yelped in surprise. Izzy held her by the shoulder with one hand and pulled the strap between her clenched legs, then fastened it to her belly and pulled it so tight that Lisande squealed. “That was the worst of it,” lied Izzy, who hadn’t failed to notice that a new horse bit was lying beside her — a training bit that would press into her tongue and palate. But first she let Lisande slip into her new boots, which she clearly liked. Her short steps on the lead caused the familiar clop-clop-clop and brought a smile to the young woman’s face for a brief moment. Izzy allowed her the short break, even though Oozol pawed his feet impatiently. Finally, she picked up the horse bit and held it in front of Lisande’s face. “First, we’ll take the old one out. But don’t talk!” She undid the fastenings and as soon as the bit was out, Lisande gritted her teeth. “You don’t need to be afraid. The practice bit isn’t that bad. I know what I’m talking about, I’ve worn it many times.” Izzy blushed a little, but it was the truth. “If your rider is careful, you’ll hardly notice it. You just have to follow the reins. Open your mouth, please.” But Lisande shook her head vigorously. “You’re too careful with her,” Oozol said, slapping the ponygirl’s bum again. “Stop it. Now!” Izzy ordered loudly and Oozol took a step back. “If you want me to saddle her, I’ll do it my way!” “Right, go on then!” said Oozol, and Izzy grinned slightly. She was enjoying putting the old goblin in his place. It was only right and proper that he quickly realised that the time when he could lead her around by the reins as a ponygirl was over! Now she just had to make sure she didn’t need a goblin to pee any more…. Izzy tried again, but Lisande remained stubborn; despite good words and a lot of sympathy, her mouth remained shut. Finally, Izzy sighed and resorted to a trick she had learnt from the other side. She hated to do it, but she wanted to get away from Oozol as soon as possible. She grabbed Lisande’s breast and painfully twisted her nipple. Lisande howled, and the horse bit immediately went into her mouth. The ponygirl gave Izzy a dirty look, but she just shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sorry, I know exactly how that feels, but it had to be done” She hurriedly attached the reins to the bit and pulled slightly to the right, and Lisande’s eyes widened. “You will get used to it. But if your rider is careful, you’ll hardly notice it.” She handed the reins to Oozol, who passed them directly to Gribat. “Let her gain some experience with the new bit. Later, put a few weights on the saddle to help her find her balance. Repeat this over the coming days until she gets to grips with it.” Izzy looked after Lisande. “Does it always take this long?” Oozol nodded. “With most horses, it can take weeks to get used to the reins and saddle. It’s difficult to find your balance with a goblin on your back. They also hate being ridden. From what my son told me, you must have been the most docile animal ever on this big island. It was remarkable how quickly you were tamed.” Izzy shuddered at the words — because of what they meant, but also how Oozol described it. Fortunately for her, he changed the subject when Grall joined them. “Saxea worries me, she’s too attached to Sunshine. That horse is trouble. It’s not easy for me, but I’m going to tell her tonight that I’m going to sell Sunshine after all,” Oozol said. “It’s hard to tell your little daughter something like that. Wish me luck. If I don’t survive, I want to be buried deep in the ground!” He winked, but Izzy still preferred to keep her distance from the old goblin. — Half an hour later, Izzy was on a cart with Grall, rumbling towards Udamos. It was a new experience for Izzy, despite her many years around the goblins she had never ridden in a ponygirl cart before — apart from the fact that she had pulled a carriage as a horse yesterday. Only once as a child had she ridden in a carriage, but that had been far out west, where carriages and carts were pulled by real horses. The ponygirl, Moonlight, who now walked in front of her, was slightly smaller than Izzy, but stockier in build. Her bum swung back and forth with every step, while Grall steered her with a loose grip on the reins. There was also a whip behind his seat, but to Izzy’s relief, he didn’t bother to use it. Still, it was strange for Izzy to see the ponygirl in front of her; after all, she had only recently swapped places with her. If Pexo hadn’t ridden her into the village at the wrong time, Izzy would probably never have known what it was like to pull a carriage — and would never have wanted to. Izzy swallowed. Grall snapped her out of her thoughts. “Here, take the reins,” Grall said, handing them to Izzy without any further explanation. Izzy didn’t really want to — she knew only too well from her experience yesterday what it felt like to pull a carriage — but it was too late; Grall had climbed to the back and was looking for something in one of the crates, and Izzy had to keep the cart on course. Her hands shook at first, but she soon got the hang of it, and there was something exciting about steering a ponygirl with just the reins. She gave a tentative tug to the left and she could clearly see the bit tugging a little at the left corner of her mouth; Moonlight immediately steered the cart in the direction she wanted and Izzy had to counter-steer. It was a strange feeling of power, and she was almost embarrassed. So often Grall had steered her with the reins — as Gribat had on the carriage — and now she was sitting on the coach seat, steering a tethered young woman through the world. It was completely crazy, but also exhilarating. She steered the cart for a few minutes, but when Grall returned with a small snack, she hastily handed him the reins before losing herself completely in the sensation. There was also something else that needed her attention. “Stop a minute,” asked Izzy, who had been squeezing her legs together since she left. There were no toilets for humans on the farm — there was only the straw of the stable or a paddock for them, but neither was very attractive; the forest was better. “We’re losing time,” Grall grumbled, but then he understood their plight. “All right, I’ll pull over.” He skilfully steered the carriage to the side of the road and stopped the horse with the reins. “But hurry.” Izzy rolled her eyes and jumped off. There was no one to be seen far and wide, so she ran to the nearest tree and lifted her dress before crouching down. That was all she needed. She’d tried underwear that morning, but the feel of the scratchy fabric was so strangely alien that she’d left it off. “Go on!” shouted Grall, annoyed, and Izzy looked up. Her friend stared back as if it was the most normal thing in the world to watch her do this, and she wasn’t even a ponygirl at the moment! She blushed slightly and waited to see if he would look away, but he did not. But she couldn’t and would do it while he stared at her! Finally, a light seemed to dawn on him; he raised his eyebrows in surprise and blushed slightly himself. “I’m sorry, that was stupid of me…” Izzy nodded in relief; once he turned around, she would finally be able to get rid of this pressure. But Grall thought very differently. “Rhida kess!” he said in a firm voice, and immediately — out of habit, perhaps, or because her body had really been waiting for it — all of Izzy’s dams broke. “I’ll think about it sooner in the future. Sometimes I forget how well you’ve adapted. Don’t worry, it’s quite normal for a ponygirl.” Izzy glared at him angrily, but it wasn’t easy, while at the same time she felt a genuine sense of relief. To make matters worse, she wasn’t sure if her body hadn’t been waiting for the command after all. Confused, she sat back down next to Grall. “What if the pony has to go, too?” she asked sympathetically, after all, she knew the situation only too well. “She’ll last a long time, you’ll learn too.” He chuckled, but Izzy wasn’t amused by the joke, and they both fell silent for the rest of the journey to town. — The sight of the high wall brought back unpleasant memories for Izzy, but at least the gatekeeper didn’t seem to recognize her. He greeted her with the usual friendliness that he probably showed to every young lady, which in his case only amounted to a curt grunt. But that was fine by Izzy, she didn’t want to engage in a conversation with someone who had recently mistaken her for an animal and grabbed her between the legs. She suddenly felt the tax tag between her legs again and rubbed her thighs together nervously. The ponygirl was less fortunate, however; the guard checked her with the same dedication that Izzy had had to endure, but the pony was probably more used to it and didn’t even make a face — which wouldn’t have been too easy with the horse bit in her mouth, anyway. After another suitable deposit had been paid — to Izzy’s pride, Moonlight cost less than 50 thalers — the cart rumbled undisturbed along the broken roads to the blacksmith’s store. But instead of stopping, Grall steered the cart into a small side street and then behind the store, where no curious townsfolk could ogle the ponygirl. Izzy nodded in satisfaction. “Sometimes I learn something,” Grall said, and Izzy helped him off the cart with his broken leg. When Grall wasn’t looking, Izzy went to Moonlight, put a finger to her lips and took the bit from the ponygirl’s mouth. Both winked at each other. Grall led Izzy back to the main street, where she felt the first glances on her and guessed that not everyone had forgotten her. “What are you waiting for?” he asked, snapping Izzy out of her thoughts. “Come inside.” She shook herself and felt like hitting her head. Of course, as a human, she was allowed in! How quickly she had forgotten… she followed Grall into the warm and stuffy store. After an hour, all business was done and Izzy was delighted to breathe some fresh air again. Her time as a ponygirl had accustomed her to a life in stables and under the open sky; workshops like this now seemed strangely hostile and unnatural. While Grall was still sorting out the finances, Izzy walked out the door alone and froze in shock. A small crowd was waiting outside and gawked at her as soon as she stood in front of the store. It was mostly men of all ages who seemed to undress her with their stares. Izzy arched her back and struggled forward, but she had barely taken a few steps when she felt the first hands on her body. The matter-of-factness with which these men grabbed her — and only her! — was disgusting and also frightening. This couldn’t be a coincidence, which was confirmed by the whispers of some men: “Does the horse want some sugar?”, “Are only goblins allowed to ride you?” “Why don’t you let me see your tax tag?” It was disgusting, and Izzy didn’t hesitate to ram her elbows into the bellies of the nearest men, who went down groaning. One of the advantages of not being tied down, Izzy thought, and proceeded to dish out kicks, headbutts and a few punches as well. It was the great luck of these men that Izzy wasn’t wearing hoofed pony boots today, or a couple of the guys would have had to greet the evening with busted kneecaps. Nevertheless, a few of the men lay thrashing on the ground after Izzy had successfully fought her way through the crowd. “Bloody Amazon,” one of the men hissed, but Izzy gave him another little kick and silenced him. “What are you guys doing? Get out of here, you scumbags!” hissed Grall, scratching the hard stone floor with his claws. The sound was ghastly, and so at least he had the attention of the men, who would otherwise have missed him because of his size. “What happened here?” asked a guard, the same one who hadn’t been much help yesterday. “Did your ponygirl do that? Why is she attacking these poor citizens?” “You mean my friend here?” grumbled Grall. “Can’t you see she’s been attacked? What are you doing about it?” “I recognize the horse, thank you very much, even a dress won’t change that. I’ll have to fine you for this trouble. 50 thalers. Now!” Izzy glared angrily at the guard. “That’s not right!” “Exactly, you can’t do that!” Grall agreed. “Whatever you say. I can also confiscate the animal, then you can release her later for a higher fine. Our stables aren’t very nice, though.” “You don’t have any coins with you, do you?” asked Grall, and Izzy shook her head. Even as a human, she was dependent on him. He sighed, reached into his wallet and grudgingly paid the fine. “You’re going to make me poor.” He took Izzy by the hand and hobbled to the cart. “Don’t worry, it’s not your fault — this town is just rotten! I hope they’ve left the cart alone.” To Izzy’s relief, they had woken the dozed girl — she hadn’t noticed any of the fuss — and stuck the bit back in her mouth before her friend noticed anything. Grall spurred the pony on and steered it out of the town as quickly as he could without any detours. “My father can do the next shopping alone. I’m not coming back here!” “You’re lucky, they didn’t feel you up,” said Izzy. It was a terrible experience — and a whole town now knew her as a ponygirl! Luckily, she was far away and no one would tell her village about it, but it was still awful. Grall preferred not to say anything, and the journey back was quiet. Once in the village, he dropped Izzy off with her father and thanked her for travelling into town with him. “If you like, we can meet at the lake tomorrow. Just to talk.” She nodded and disappeared quietly into the house, where her father greeted her with a smile. “Oh, a rare visitor. You’ve been making yourself scarce at home lately. Oozol still won’t tell me what Grall and you actually do all the time when you’re not here.” Izzy bit her tongue. “Oh, it’s… not much to tell. I’ll explain later… I promise.” Hurriedly, she ran to her room and hopped into her bed. As she noticed through the window, the cart remained outside the house for a few minutes until Grall drove the ponygirl off again. Like a few nights before, Izzy didn’t get much sleep that night. She stared at the ceiling and thought of all the strange things that had happened to her over the last few days. She had probably jumped off just in time — who knows where this path would have led her if she had become a ponygirl just one more time. She still hadn’t fallen asleep well after midnight when she heard a call from the forest. Grall limped over to her and waved his arms. “What are you doing here, it’s the middle of the night!” she shouted at him. But Grall didn’t stop, his face was contorted in pain. “Saxea is gone!” Pony heroine “Come in, you are completely frozen.” Izzy opened the door for him, and her father had also woken up. “What’s going on, Isabel?” Grall swallowed. “My sister Saxea has disappeared. It’s probably because of Sunshine, after…” He bit his tongue and his gaze darted briefly to Izzy. “We have to go and find her. “Does your father know about this?” asked Izzy’s father, Matheus. “He and the others are about to ride out, but they don’t know her hiding places as well as I do.” “Then help them!” Izzy snarled at him. “Then what are you still doing here?” “I want to, but I can’t do it without you, you have to… support me. I can’t get far with my leg. Please!” “Of course, Isabel will help you, am I right?” Izzy looked desperately at her father, who couldn’t understand why she was hesitating — it was Grall’s sister, after all. She swallowed and nodded slowly. “Alright, I’ll help.” Even if that made me a ponygirl again, Izzy thought desperately. The ground seemed to give way beneath her feet. Matheus helped Grall to his feet. “Can I help, too?” Grall nodded. “Stay here, maybe she’ll come around. She’s run away many times, but never at night. Besides, she took Sunshine with her. Hopefully they won’t get far.” He took Izzy by the hand and pulled her out the door behind him, where she took him in her arms — unseen — and ran with him to Oozol’s yard. The night was particularly gloomy, and Grall had to stop her from running straight into a tree several times. “Why don’t you take one of the other ponygirls,” Izzy asked breathlessly. “You have dozens of them!” “Most of them are still untrained, the other goblins have taken all the good ones. Besides, I’ve only ridden you so far. We have to find my sister before something happens to her. I can’t do it without my horse.” Izzy snorted, but said nothing. She didn’t believe a word he said either, with so many ponygirls on the farm, there was bound to be one left for him to ride out on. No, he just didn’t want to ride any other horse but her. If it hadn’t been for his sister — and Sunshine, for which she felt guilty — she would have sent him to hell for it. But they could talk about that later. The farm was brightly lit, torches were burning everywhere and goblins were running around wildly. Ponygirls were saddled by the dozen, and goblins rode along the streets and into the forest in all directions. It was a great hustle and bustle in which no one paid any attention to her until Oozol called her name — or what was now being used as her name here. “Very well, my son, you have fetched Buttercup. Saddle her at once, you will investigate the coast.” Again, Izzy realised that she was only considered a horse, and only Grall was given the job. Grall nodded and Izzy was dressed faster than ever. It was strange how routine it was for both of them, she even opened her mouth before Grall had the horse bit in his hand. Izzy was a little ashamed of it, but in this case, it was necessary; she couldn’t see enough that night without Grall. It was true, they were a good team, she just had to give up her humanity, her freedom, and everything that had meant something to her so far… she sighed. Grall led her back to the yard, climbed into her saddle with the help of the stirrups, and had his father explain the way. Izzy listened carefully. The destination was the sea to the south, quite an impressive distance at night, but as Saxea also had a ponygirl with her, they had to assume that she had made it there. As Oozol explained, they had already investigated the immediate surroundings, now they were all riding to places Saxea knew. “Did you understand everything?” asked Oozol, and they both nodded, even though Izzy hadn’t been asked. “This is important. If you have to, you’ll ride down the whole beach, do you understand?” They nodded again. “Go on then!” He gave Izzy a firm slap on the bum and shooed her off. The ride went past the stables and out the south gate, which Grall didn’t usually use. The first few metres led steeply down a path to the lake, but Izzy wasn’t in the mood for a swim. They rode around the lake and crossed a bridge into an unspoilt forest that neither of them had yet explored — partly because they were generally convinced that there were no interesting ruins waiting for them there. Instead, the mighty trees stood close together, their canopies shielding the forest floor from the faint light of the stars. For Izzy, it was an impenetrable black wall, through which Grall pushed her onwards with small kicks. Here and there he pulled on the reins and Izzy could almost feel the trees against her skin as she narrowly missed them. It was a scary ride, and it required a lot of trust between rider and horse, but thankfully the two were well-aligned. Still, it was a long way through a dangerous darkness where even a small mistake could cause a painful fall at this fast pace. Despite the cold, Izzy was sweating with exertion and fear, and Grall was also shifting nervously in the saddle. The farm was already far behind them when Grall stopped Izzy. “There’s something in the darkness,” he whispered, his arm pointing into the blackness to her right. Izzy couldn’t see anything, but she felt Grall tremble. “RUN!” he shouted, his voice echoing throughout the forest. He kicked her with all his might and slapped her hard on the bottom. “RUN! FASTER!” Izzy heard a loud panting behind her. She didn’t have to turn around to know they were being chased by a pack of wolves. Her legs flew over the uneven forest ground; one misstep and they both wouldn’t reach the farm alive. Her heart pounded like a drum in her chest. What she wouldn’t have given for a lamp, but this way she had only Grall to rely on as she charged blindly through the forest, hooves pounding the dirt floor in quick time. “We’ve almost lost them, there’s only one left behind us!” That was just fine with Izzy, her legs were starting to get tired. He led her in a sharp right turn around a tree as he brought her to a halt with a sharp pull on the reins. “A dead end!” Izzy was breathing heavily, but even without seeing him, she knew the wolf was behind them. He, too, was winded and rattling as he came closer and closer with heavy steps. “You have to kick him!” Grall demanded. Izzy didn’t understand, what good would a kick do against a wolf? “Your hooves are made of metal, you can hurt him badly with them!” She nodded and got ready. She stood sideways and gathered all the strength she had left. Her leg was bent, and she waited for the command. “NOW!” All the strength of her trained legs was in that kick. Her leg was almost fully extended when she felt something hard under her hoof. The loud crack echoed through the forest and the wolf fell to the ground, not moving. “You broke his neck,” Grall said admiringly. “Move, before his friends arrive.” He led Izzy out of the dead end and rode on southwards. Izzy followed the reins, but her mind was still a few minutes behind. Had she truly run away from wolves and killed one with just a kick? She shuddered. She had never thought herself so strong — or dangerous, if looked from the perspective of the goblins who often worked right next to ponygirls legs. She swallowed. So that was why they were always tied up, for the goblins it had to be a game of death if a ponygirl was ever in a bad mood. Grall urged her on, but they were spared wolves the rest of the way, but Izzy sensed that Grall had become even more nervous. She couldn’t blame him either, if they had both narrowly escaped the wolves, what chance had Saxea had? Izzy pushed the thought aside, there was no reason to believe that the girl had come this way. The forest opened up and a long cliff with a beach deep below appeared in front of them. It was a fantastic sight, especially on this calm night, but neither of them was in the mood for it. Grall led Izzy slowly along the edge, and at first, it seemed like they were wasting their time, but then they saw someone in the distance, hiding behind a tree. Izzy ran off even without Grall’s command — which he acknowledged with a grumble. It was Sunshine! The ponygirl was tied to the tree and tugged at its reins. It was a sad sight, but as soon as Sunshine noticed them, she didn’t try to hide again but jumped around excitedly. “What happened,” Grall asked, and she looked towards the cliff. Izzy’s heart stopped. Grall limped to the edge and looked down. “She’s alive!” Izzy ran to him and leant forward on wobbly legs. Saxea laid unconscious on a small ledge just two metres below them, but from there it was a 30-metre drop. The ledge wasn’t much wider than the girl, she only had to roll to the side once and her life was over. “You have to lower me down!” ordered Grall, but they didn’t make it. He hung on to her reins, but there was still almost a metre to go. Izzy moaned, his whole face pulling at her head, but it just wasn’t enough. She backed up slowly and heaved Grall back onto safe ground. Grall hurriedly took the ponygirl clothes off her, but even so they had nothing with them to overcome such a great height. Grall could, of course, just jump down, but then there was no way up. “I have an idea,” said Izzy and ran to Sunshine, who was staring at her with wide eyes. “Please help us, we can only do it together.” Sunshine nodded without hesitation. Izzy took the ponygirl gear off her, too, a freedom she clearly wasn’t used to any more. She stretched out her arms, moved her mouth and looked longingly at the forest for a moment. “If you run, Saxea will die,” Izzy warned. Sunshine took a deep breath. “Good,” she said in a voice she probably hadn’t used in years. Izzy was momentarily caught off guard to hear her talk, but then she shelled herself for the thought. Of course, they could talk! “Why did Saxea ride off with you in the first place? You manipulated her, didn’t you?” asked Izzy sternly. “It was her idea, I just gave her a little nudge to make her do it. You can’t blame me, it sounded like a good idea. The girl is very stubborn, when she wants something, she won’t give it up — including me, I think. But now I feel sorry for her, I didn’t mean for something like this to happen…” Izzy nodded. “And I’m sorry about your punishment.” Sunshine walked past her. “It’s okay, I was an arsehole. I didn’t want Grall at all, I was just jealous. But…” “But what?” Izzy pressed on. “The others were all caught if they didn’t come from a breeding programme. Nobody else is a ponygirl by choice. But you are. It just felt wrong… like you were a traitor. That was silly of me, you can do whatever you want… even something so stupid.” She winked. “Just make sure you don’t get in too deep. The goblins will never give you up once they have you. You can take my word for that.” The two of them tied the reins together and let Grall down. Even now, there was still a stretch missing. Izzy grabbed Sunshine by the legs and let her down a little over the edge. It took a lot of trust, but it was enough for Grall to reach his sister. He took her in his arms and Izzy pulled as hard as she could. She moaned loudly; she had strong legs, but her arms were average at best — the long hours under the saddle hadn’t made it any better. Her loud cry cut through the silence on the cliff and she managed to pull Sunshine, Grall and Saxea to the safety of the ground. The four of them hugged each other and it was quite a while before they let go. Saxea was also slowly waking up. She had an injury to her head, but it didn’t seem too bad. Sunshine looked towards the forest again. It must have been the first time in years that she wasn’t tethered, Izzy thought. It was her chance to escape, to live without the goblins. At least in theory. Izzy’s gaze travelled down Sunshine’s body, from the registration number on her chest to the brand on her bottom. Here, in this part of the world, even many humans would heed those markings and return a runaway ponygirl to her rightful owner — for a reward, of course. The ponygirl’s eyes continued to dart back and forth between the forest and Saxea. Finally, Sunshine shook her head and took Saxea in her arms. With a slow trot, she made her way to the yard. Grall dressed Izzy again and the two followed her. — The journey back was less exciting than the trip there. Even the wolves stayed away from them this time; the hooves of two full-grown ponygirls seemed too dangerous for them, after all. Sunshine continued to carry Saxea in her arms, who had fallen into a deep sleep. This left Izzy alone with her thoughts — she kept thinking about Sunshine’s possible escape, and it brought back an old memory that she had almost forgotten. A few years ago, a young girl had appeared at their door… — It had been a cold autumn day, the leaves were almost all on the ground and the sun had lost much of its power, but a strong wind swept through the forest. Izzy had only been ten at the time, but of course, she had considered herself mature and grown up enough to cope with all of life’s difficulties. Therefore, it was only right that her father had not taken her to fetch wood, but had left her alone in the house. She was reading a book when she heard a noise outside the door. “Why are you back already?” she called out, leaning casually on the window, but to her surprise it wasn’t her father standing there, instead there was a girl — perhaps seven or eight years older than herself — who was wrapping herself in a blanket from the washing line. “Hey, they’re ours!” Izzy hissed, but the girl just glared at her wide-eyed and pulled the blanket tighter around her body. “What are you doing out there anyway? Are you stupid or why aren’t you wearing shoes?” The girl looked down and blushed. “They stole my things,” she said in a raspy voice, as if thick dust had settled onto it over the years. She coughed. “Can you lend me something? A dress, or a pair of trousers. And a shirt. I’m terribly cold.” Izzy frowned. The girl was a lot taller than her, her clothes certainly wouldn’t fit her. But maybe her mum’s clothes would. They were old and the moths had eaten away at them, but they might fit. “Wait a minute!” The girl nodded and looked around uncertainly. Izzy came back with some clothes, shoes and a shirt, and the girl put everything on — two dresses and the shirt on top. “You must be freezing!” The girl smiled weakly. “What’s your name anyway?” “Blue L…” she bit her tongue. “Whose name is Blue?” “No, forget it. It’s just a… nickname.” The girl thought for a moment, as if she had to search for her name deep in her memories. “Maria. My name is Maria.” “You’re not from the village, I’ve never seen you here before. Where are you from? You have a strange dialect…” Maria smiled. “From very far away. Very far.” “Then your family moved here?” She shook her head. “No, not my family. Just me. Have you any food? I’m hungry.” Izzy pondered for a moment. Politeness demanded that she invite a visitor into the house, but she didn’t know Maria, and what if she… wasn’t nice? On the other hand, the girl didn’t seem dangerous. Izzy waved Maria inside and led her into the kitchen, where she fired up the oven. Maria moved her chair to the fire and closed her eyes. She leaned forwards a little and Izzy saw a strange mark on the girl’s bottom in the corner of her eye. Her heart stopped. She had always stayed away from ponygirls, but she knew how to recognise them. Izzy walked quickly to Maria, pushed her shirt down and caught a glimpse of the registration number before Maria slapped her on the fingers. “Do you ogle every girl’s breasts?” Maria asked irritably, but Izzy wasn’t fooled. “You’re a ponygirl!” Maria bit her lower lip. “What does it matter to you!” “Ponygirls aren’t allowed to run around without a goblin. You’re a runaway, you escaped from your owner! You belong to Oozol, don’t you?” Izzy pushed her nose closer to Maria curiously. “Owner, pah. But no, I’ve never heard of him. My owner,” she spat snidely on the ground, “rode me here from the east. You have no idea what that’s like. I’ll never do that again. Why should I? Women aren’t animals!” “But you are his.” “Humans don’t belong to anyone.” It got louder outside the house, the voices of men could be heard. “Please don’t give me away.” Izzy walked wordlessly to the door and looked to see who had come. To her surprise, it wasn’t goblins, but some merchants from the village. She knew the men, they had all always been nice to her. “Hello Isabel,” said the watchmaker Sigismer, who had grown particularly fond of her. “We’re looking for a girl who may have strayed to you. Have you seen one?” “Why are you looking for her?” asked Izzy innocently. “She ran away. We just want to bring her back, so everything is in order again.” “Is she a ponygirl?” “That’s right. She attacked her owner and ran off. We can’t allow that, we all must respect the law. And she’s the property of a goblin. Have you seen her?” Izzy nodded and pointed to the door. The men went into the room and pulled the struggling young woman out. To Izzy’s great shock, Maria screamed terribly; she struggled against the men, but they were too strong. They took off her clothes and tied her up until she could only squirm like a worm. Whenever she struggled too much, the otherwise friendly men slapped her on the bum — the clapping echoed throughout the forest and made Maria whimper even more. Izzy stood intimidated at the door and watched everything. The last thing they did was to tie a bridle around the girl’s head and shove a horse bit into her mouth, which also made her lose her voice. Izzy trembled and made herself smaller and smaller in the doorway. Maria stared at her from behind the watchmaker as tears streamed down her face. “You don’t need to be afraid, Isabel, we’ll just get her back to her owner. Then everything will be fine. She’ll soon be a good horse again and will serve her owner well. She won’t escape him a second time and bother you, I promise you that. If you like, you can feed her later.” Izzy shook her head quickly and closed the door and windows. She only looked through a small crack and watched as the men and their prey disappeared into the forest. — Izzy saw Maria days later on a local road. Her owner was sitting high in his saddle, while the girl had deep red welts all over her body. She looked at Izzy with a sad expression while her rider drove her forward with a whip. Now that Izzy thought about it, that must have been the moment she no longer wanted anything to do with ponygirls. She had avoided them in the past, too, but since that day she had actively shunned them. How could she have forgotten that? Or had she repressed it? Whatever the case, one thing had certainly become clear on that day: Once you were a ponygirl, you would stay one. There was no escape, the brand, and registration were final, after that, humans and goblins would always bring her back to her owner; there was no escaping your own skin. Izzy wasn’t sure how close she had come to that future, but for now, she had a goblin on her back, leading her through the forest with reins, and she had to decide what to do next. But first Saxea had to get home, and to Izzy’s relief the forest finally opened up and the lake appeared before them. They ran around the water and tramped up the path to the farmyard, where some goblins — including Oozol — were already waiting. “They’ve found Saxea!” shouted Pexo and Oozol rushed forwards. Sunshine placed the girl at her feet. “Wash the two horses and take them to their stables,” Oozol ordered, after which he only cared for his daughter. Grall also had only eyes for his sister, neither of them noticed Izzy’s silent complaint, but she was actually too tired to go home and tolerated the renewed humiliation if she could at least sleep quickly — even if her bed was made of straw tonight. Sunshine also endured it in silence. She was immediately given a horse bit and her hands were tied behind her back. This ended her brief freedom, and Izzy suspected that she would not be released as a reward either. It was unfair, but it was the goblins’ law. Izzys stared at her stable’s ceiling. Sleep was impossible, her thoughts were racing in her head and were keeping her awake — as did the increasing pressure in her bladder. She crouched down in a corner, but nothing happened. She pushed harder, but it didn’t work. Damn Grall, Izzy thought, biting down on the night bit in her mouth; how could he have trained her so well so quickly? Goblins were considered magical created creatures, but they didn’t have magic of their own, did they? — Early the next morning, the upper part of their stable door opened. Grall climbed a few steps up to the door; he was grinning all over his face. “Has my favourite horse finally had a good night’s sleep? You’re the heroine of the yard, you should be proud of yourself!” Izzy, however, stood prancing in a corner and squeezed her legs together. That wasn’t necessary — after all, urinating was her problem to begin with — but at least it took some pressure away. She hoped that he would finally open the door so that she could at least go behind the stable, but Grall didn’t think that was necessary. Grall laughed and nodded. “I see, I’m sorry. Squat down, please.” Izzy almost dropped. “Rhida Kess!” Izzy didn’t care that someone was watching her this time, the feeling of relief was indescribable. Here we go then, she thought, but tomorrow it has to happen without him! Meanwhile, Grall opened the stable door and once Izzy was ready, he gestured her over, avoiding going into the stable himself. He attached a leash and led her across the yard, giving Pexo an embarrassing order: “Buttercup has flooded her stable. Please dry it out quickly, or we’ll all get wet feet.” Izzy neighed in displeasure, but her friend clearly enjoyed teasing her. Even some of the other horses were also giggling in their stalls. “I know you didn’t want to be a ponygirl any more, but you were really great this night,” he said, picking up her saddle from the shed. “You were just born for this. Without you, my sister would be dead right now.” He put the saddle on her back, and Izzy winced from the feel of it. To her surprise, he took the horse bit out of her mouth. “Is it all right with you if we go for another ride today? As a farewell?” Izzy hesitated. Was this really what she wanted? Where had all the anger from yesterday gone? Was it because of the stable, or Sunshine, who had decided in favour of Saxea and against freedom? She grumbled. “All right, one last ride. But don’t overdo it!” Grall smiled and hurriedly put the other parts on her as well. A new horse bit went into her mouth, followed by reins and boots. He then led her to Oozol, who was standing next to Saxea and Sunshine. Saxea seemed to have survived the night well and Sunshine was back in her role. The two of them seemed like a good team, and at least it had become clear that night that they could trust Sunshine, Izzy thought. “There’s our heroine. Buttercup, you’ve done well.” He patted her on the bottom and offered her a treat, which she ate greedily from his hand. She still hated being fed, but the treats had really grown on her and she was willing to endure a little humiliation for them. It was an addictive flavour, and she hummed contentedly as the sweet melted in her mouth. “Sunshine, too, of course. After the last trouble, I was actually going to sell her, but Saxea made it clear to me that I should think twice about it.” He pinched his daughter’s cheek. “Besides, Sunshine has done well. Few ponygirls other than Buttercup come back once they’ve been free. Actually, I only know Buttercup otherwise. Most girls would never voluntarily wear a saddle or a bit.” Izzy was almost in tears with shame. What was meant as praise struck deep into her heart. She turned away hastily so that no one would notice her trembling. “Grall, you should ask her father for his approval, you shouldn’t keep a girl like Izzy waiting unnecessarily, don’t you think?” Izzy looked at him, confused. What kind of approval? Was it what she thought he meant? No, that was unthinkable! There was no such “bond” between humans and goblins. No goblin had ever asked a human girl to marry him. And besides, she didn’t like Grall in THAT way. Grall fidgeted. “No, I can’t do that… It’s not the right time…” “You say that now and then someone else snatches her away from you. Look at her, you’ll never find another one like her.” Sunshine giggled in the background, and Izzy tried to give her a dirty look, but couldn’t do it. All she managed was a puzzled look while her best friend and his dad talked about her like that. “What if he says no.” Oozol laughed. “You won’t know until you ask him. He’s a modern man who knows us goblins well. If anyone says yes to this union, it will be him.” Grall hesitated further. “And if she doesn’t want to?” “You young people are strange. Since when does it matter? Every so often, you have to take what you want.” He patted Izzy on the bum and Sunshine almost fell over laughing. Izzy snorted. Goblins really were very unromantic. Where the heck were we when a girl had no say in her wedding? She had thought about it for a second — her mind had also wandered to Grall’s finger between her thighs — but no more. That was simply outrageous! She stomped off angrily. “Fine, I’ll ask him, but I’m sure he’ll be surprised when I try to register his daughter as a ponygirl.” This turn of events not only literally knocked Izzy off her feet; she landed painfully in the dirt and stared up at the sky. She had gone too far after all. One last trip… my ass! — The trip didn’t take them as far as the previous ones, but as it brought them to the goblin side of the island, they remained cautious. Both were still a little exhausted from the night’s exertions, so Grall took it easy. “Let’s take a little break,” he said after half an hour. He led her deeper into the forest and stopped her in a small clearing, where he climbed out of the saddle with the stirrups and took the bit out of her mouth. “Do you really think I’m going to let you register me?” scolded Izzy. “Of course not against your will!” he defended himself. “But it doesn’t hurt to ask, does it?” Izzy snorted angrily. “You say that so easily, but nobody wants to put a brand on your ass either!” Grall ignored the accusation and spread a blanket on the floor, but Izzy just grimaced. “You don’t want me to lie down for you, do you?” “We’re in goblin country. That, or I’ll tie you to the tree there. But then we can’t talk; it would be too loud, someone might hear us. If I lie on top of you, we can still whisper a little.” “You’re a fool, Grall.” “Oh come on, surely it wasn’t that bad.” Izzy glared at him defiantly. “If you say so, I can lie on top of you, can’t I?” “If you weren’t so heavy, sure!” Laughing, he dodged her kick, which wasn’t so easy with his leg, and playfully slapped her bum. Izzy was surprised at how nimble he could be — when he wanted to be — and pushed him over with her bottom, but unfortunately for her, she knocked him sideways onto a rock. “Ouch!” he cried, his face twisted in pain and holding his ribs. “I didn’t mean to!” Izzy moaned and knelt down to him. “Is something broken?” “I don’t think so, it just hurts. You sometimes forget how strong you are,” he reminded her and stroked her face, wiping away a small tear. “Don’t think I’d take advantage of it, but it would be really nice to lie on something soft right now.” His words came in little bursts whenever he got some air. Izzy rolled her eyes. “I suppose I owe you that. But this is still an exception!” Grall nodded, removed the saddle and allowed himself a quick “Grexipel!” for which Izzy would have liked to throw him on the stone again, and lay down on her back. “Keep your fingers to yourself; you can put your head on my breasts, but nobody said anything about touching me! There was that strange feeling again when he lay on top of her. She looked at him and gave him a little kiss on the forehead. “What was that for?” he asked in surprise. “A little apology.” Obviously heartened by the gesture, he reached for a breast and pressed it to himself as a pillow. As expected, Izzy said nothing in response. “I could sleep like this every night,” he said dreamily, almost falling into a half-sleep. “Then you’ll just have to find your own ponygirl for it. You can forget that with me!” “You mean like Sunshine? She’d bite my head off if I tried… No, you’re the only ponygirl I want. You know that!” “Where does Sunshine actually come from?” Izzy asked after they had both been quiet for a while. “She’s from somewhere far away, right?” “Probably. Some ponygirls come from breeding, but you’d be surprised how many goblins don’t want to ride a horse like that. It’s something we don’t really like to talk about, but most goblins want a captive ponygirl. They are considered more natural. It’s a matter of faith. Our great book says that humans were created by the gods as a gift to serve the goblins, and it’s our right and duty to make your kind our own.” Izzy shuddered. “I don’t believe that, of course!” he added quickly. “I wouldn’t do that to you!” “Good because I’m not your ponygirl!” Izzy rolled her eyes. “It’s not good for a ponygirl to be ridden where she was caught. It just gets people in trouble. So they sell them far away where nobody knows them. That’s probably what happened with Sunshine.” “Will she ever get home again? “Her home is here now,” he said quietly. “Luckily, we found her in time with Saxea. Speaking of which: I saw a ruin there during the night. Not big, but we should have a look at it. I’m sure the wolves won’t dare come near you again. And if they do, I have a surprise for them!” He pulled a long knife out of his jacket, which made Izzy a little nervous. “Impressive, certainly looks good next to your bitten-off arm,” she mocked. A wolf was twice the size of Grall, even with a knife he wouldn’t stand a chance, she was sure of that. “Fine, let’s ride there. But if I hear a wolf, I’m off! I’ve never seen wolves react where.” “That was down to me. Animals don’t like us, you know that. Most of them just flee from us, but some attack us; they go into a real rage. Then nothing can stop them. My grandfather once tried to stroke a goat when he was drunk — it tore him to pieces. It’s not like with humans, no animal will tolerate us near them. Never. It’s flight or fight.” Grall got off her belly — giving her bosom a little kiss that made Izzy blush — put the saddle back on her and climbed onto her back. The ride was slow and uneventful, and luckily for her, there wasn’t a wolf to be seen — or heard — anywhere. The forest was generally quiet and peaceful, with only a few birds chirping in the branches, a few squirrels running up the trees and the occasional deer peering between the bushes. Compared to the stress of the previous night, it was paradise. Afterwards, they rode on in silence. The ruins were hardly worth mentioning, but for today Izzy was content with that; it was good to have a lazy day for once. — Izzy was lost in her thoughts as they rode back to the farm and relied entirely on the reins, as she was used to doing by now. She only had to move her legs, with Grall leading the way. It was almost liberating, but above all it gave her enough time to think about her future; regardless of what she did, she always ended up as a ponygirl. This could not and could not go on like that. Hardly anyone knew about it yet, but it was only a matter of time before word got around. The road surface changed to the loose sand of a dirt track, and Izzy looked up briefly. Her heart stopped when she saw her father in front of his hut. He was looking at her with interest; his expression was difficult to read. Izzy’s eyes were wide open, her mouth was hanging down and only the bridle held the bit in her mouth. Grall steered her in front of her father and nodded to the man, whom he could look directly in the eye for the first time ever. Izzy, on the other hand, just stared at the ground, which, as before, simply refused to open for her. She stomped angrily, but it still didn’t do her the favour. She waited nervously for her father to make a sound. Her heart was pounding nervously, but she also felt a small glimmer of hope. What if he simply banned the entire thing? Then Izzy wouldn’t have to solve the problem herself. It wasn’t very heroic, but at least it would be over. “Hope you had a nice ride. Was my angel good?” her father said, ruffling her mane. His gaze flitted over her tax tag and for a moment he raised an eyebrow. Izzy’s eyes twitched upwards. How could he react so calmly to his daughter being tied up and ridden by a goblin? She snorted angrily. No one could be relied on any more! “She was wonderful, as always.” Grall stroked her head, and Izzy would have liked to bite his fingers off in return. Matheus nodded. “You can imagine my surprise when Oozol told me about Saxea’s rescue and Isabel’s part in it. Children… you never know what they’ll think of next. But now that I see you together, it all makes sense, you make a good pair. It’s rare to see a horse so well suited to its rider.” Izzy blushed. “It’s all voluntary, isn’t it? Oozol is a good friend, but he’s merciless when it comes to business.” “Of course, am I right, Izzy?” She bit her lip. Did she really have to tell that? Of course, it was the truth — no one had forced her to, at best there had been misunderstandings — but it still felt strange to tell her father that she had allowed herself to be turned into an animal without much resistance. They both looked at her expectantly, then Izzy nodded slowly. “Excellent. As long as it’s voluntary, I won’t stand in your way,” he said, patting Izzy on the head. He’d done that before, but now it felt different — like a beloved pet, and she hated it. Grall shifted nervously in the saddle. “There’s something else I want to ask you. “Do you want to come in? How do you do it, do you want Izzy in the stable until then or…?” Izzy glared angrily at her father. She knew he was not against goblin traditions, but this was going a little too far! “No, no, she should be joining us. It’s also about Buttercup.” Don’t use that name, Izzy wanted to scream, but with the horse bit in her mouth, it wasn’t possible. “Buttercup?” her father asked, raising an eyebrow; and for a moment his gaze seemed to wander into the distance. “I mean Izzy.” “You call her Buttercup?” He smiled. “That’s nice.” There was a dreamy glamour in his eyes. Grall searched in his pockets and showed Izzy’s father a gold ring of some kind. Izzy’s father’s eyes widened, not in shock, but in amazement. “This is a big thing you’re planning.” Grall nodded. “That’s why I’ve come to you. I want to ask you for your daughter to be my ponygirl.” This time, Izzy shook herself and neighed. “She’s a bit nervous, but the nose ring would suit her well! “Seems like she’s not quite ready,” her father remarked, and Izzy nodded. “You have my blessing, but you’ll have to get permission from your horse.” Izzy blushed again. It felt strange when he called her that. “All right, but one thing at a time,” Grall said, smiling. “She already has her own stable with us.” He patted Izzy on the flank and took back the nose ring. “I have a ring for me, too.” “This bond is for life, you know that, right?” asked Izzy’s father. “You wouldn’t even be allowed to sell her, even if she can no longer be ridden. You’d have to look after her for the rest of her life; it’s very different to just buying a horse. Think it through, it’s not a small step. For both of you.” He looked deep into his daughter’s eyes. “Come to think of it, we should have a father/daughter talk. There are some things I need to talk to her about. You can leave her here and I’ll send her to the farm tomorrow with the gear.” “Okay,” Grall said, and dismounted after a short “Tack” — which nearly drove Izzy mad. He limped off and looked back at Izzy from a distance. “She needs help with… well… she listens to Rhida Kess!” he stammered, before hastily disappearing behind the trees. It was one of those moments when she would have liked to twist his neck. To Izzy’s great surprise, her father was clearly very skilful at undressing a ponygirl. Every move was spot on, and it only took a few minutes before she was standing naked in front of him. As expected, she was very embarrassed, but he didn’t even seem to mind. He handed her a sponge and water — there was nothing else in the hut anyway — and let her wash herself. At least he spared her this humiliation. Then he handed her a dress and they sat down together in the kitchen. The oven was already glowing and spread a cosy warmth throughout the small room. “It’s not what it looks like!” Izzy blurted out when she finally found the courage to open her mouth, but her father only raised his hand. “You don’t have to explain yourself or be ashamed. But I want to make sure that no one forces you to do this. How did it even start?” Izzy gave a detailed account of everything that had happened in the last few days — only she preferred to omit her more private feelings. Apart from that, she put everything on the table, even her annoyance about the peeing. Her father listened in silence, nodding occasionally and grumbling. After Izzy had finished, she waited anxiously for his reaction. “You’re a wonderful friend to him. I don’t think anyone else would have done something like this. But I’m not surprised either … I should have seen it coming.” He picked up a glass and poured himself a whisky. Izzy watched as he poured himself a second and third glass. He wasn’t really much of a drinker, but she couldn’t blame him. He took her hand and led her out into the stable, which Izzy hadn’t often entered as a child. They had no animals, and nothing that had ever lived in the stable. Her father never went there either, but now he did, and Izzy was nervous about what he was going to show her. The whole world seemed to have become a little more intense — she felt the wind in her hair, the small stones on the path digging into the soles and a very subtle smell of sea salt that carried from the distant shore to her cottage. But her eyes were fixed on the darkness of the stable in front of her. Her father lit a large candle and placed it on the windowsill. The stable was as always — empty. There was some old straw on the floor, but that was all there was to see. Or so Izzy thought, until her father bent down, pushed the straw aside and opened a secret cellar. Izzy’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. The room was dark and not big, but what she saw from above on the shelves and on the wall took her breath away: it was the gear of a ponygirl! “Wait up here.” He climbed down a shaky ladder into the cellar and brought up a wide saddle. Izzy knew, of course, that it wasn’t made for a human to ride on, but then what was her father doing with it? She picked it up reluctantly and immediately realised that it was of very high quality, even better than her own. The stitching was gilded and there was even an elaborate coat of arms in one place, as befitted a king. She turned the saddle, and her heart stopped when she read a name on it: “Buttercup!” “Y-you have a saddle for me?” stuttered Izzy, taking a startled step back. How far did this madness go? He shook his head and grabbed Izzy’s shoulders. She had never seen him so upset. “No, Isabel. That was your mother’s saddle! In the past Fog covered the narrow streets of Xedelia, the capital of the goblin kingdom of Hawa. Dark blood streamed down the cobblestones; like a small river, it ran from high above from the King’s castle down to the quarters of his impoverished subjects. Matheus shuddered and wrapped his cloak tighter around his shoulders. “Forward, soldier,” ordered the commander, who along with him was the only survivor from their company. The goblins may be small, but they were fearsome, fast fighters who could take a man by surprise with their superior numbers and tear him to pieces. “We’re almost there. We’ll gather with the others in front of the castle and finally put this pointless war behind us!” Matheus nodded. He hadn’t seen his homeland for three years. He had almost been a child when the soldiers had dragged him out of his house and thrown him on the cart. His mother’s screams still kept him awake every night — when it wasn’t the horrors of war he had encountered. Just a little peace and beauty in this cruel world, that was all he wished for, but all it presented him with were blood and death. The commander pushed him onwards, past burnt out houses and things Matheus preferred not to even look at. A few larger shadows darted past in the distance. “Get back!” the commander ordered, pushing him into a doorway. “Goblins?” Matheus asked quietly. “With their horses.” The commander spat on the ground. Matheus knew all too well how he felt about the ponygirls. It was one of the worst things about this war: not only did they have to slaughter their enemies, but often these innocent girls and women died, forced into cruel slave labour as mounts by these little green monsters. What a terrible fate, Matheus thought: tied up all day, controlled by a petty demon and treated like an animal. What had these girls done to be tortured like this? Perhaps their swords were a salvation for the girls, but they couldn’t show any mercy anyway. When a ponygirl and her rider approached them, they had to act, one way or another. Their blood also flowed down the street that day. After the goblins had ridden on, Matheus sneaked on with his commander. The town was already almost conquered, but the goblins fought to their last breath. There was no defeat for them, only death. That was also what made them such formidable opponents, there was no negotiation, no dialogue — only screams, weapons, and war. Who had started this madness was long forgotten. The war had been going on for many years, and in the end nobody cared. The only question many soldiers asked was whether it was possible to win at all. A loud horn sounded and Matheus looked up at the palace with wide eyes. The goblins’ flag was lowered, and a new flag was waving in the wind: it was that of his king. So they had won after all! “Don’t rejoice too soon,” warned the commander. “You can still die in this shithole. One goblin is all it takes.” They walked on and came across a group of soldiers running down from the hill. “The king is dead?” The first soldier shook his head. “That would be nice. We’ve taken the castle and most of the goblins are dead; all his guards are spread out in many small pieces in the throne room. We have the old king’s head, but his son — the prince — has escaped. He is now the new king, and will continue the fight if we don’t catch him. We send seekers in all directions, but he had a ponygirl with him. She looked fast — if we’re unlucky, he’ll be over the border into Potsch in a few days. Their goblin ruler will surely harbour him.” “But I want to go home,” Matheus pleaded, and the other soldiers nodded. “When will this be over?” “When they’re all dead, or we get a peace after all. But with goblins? Unlikely. Go back to the camp, you’ll get new instructions there.” — The camp was outside the city, which was now ablaze. Nothing was to be left of Xedelia, that was the order — and so it was done. But that was not the end of it, the king was still on the run, as Matheus learnt. “Tomorrow, you’ll search the forest in groups of two, maybe we’ll be lucky and he hasn’t got as far as we fear. And if that’s not the case, then you’ve had a nice walk.” Matheus raised his hand. “What do you want to know?” Matheus cleared his throat. “Did any of those… ponygirls survive?” Some of the soldiers laughed. “Try to concentrate on your task and you’ll have more blood in your head.” “No, I mean… they were victims of the goblins too, weren’t they? Did we at least save a few?” No one laughed any more. “No, none. Most of them fell in battle, we gave them an honourable burial. We managed to capture a few alive, but they wanted nothing to do with us. They attacked us, some chose to protect their goblin rather than help us. We had no choice.” “Not a single one?” The soldier shook his head. “Not a single one. I guess the goblins know how to deal with the ponygirls. Maybe they’re not used to a different life. Or maybe they fear us even more than those little monsters.” Another soldier raised a glass. “Then these ponygirls are smarter than I thought. I bet we’d ride them even better than those goblins — if you know what I mean.” Most of the soldiers understood very well, and apart from Matheus, they all laughed. — A cold wind swept through the dense forest. It was not strange for Matheus, this forest was the first familiar sight he had seen in months — it looked exactly like the forest back home; it was the same trees, bushes, and plants. Even the birds could have originated from his forest. Their journey to Xedelia had taken him out of his forest and through deserts, over mountains, along the sea and through deep valleys. He had never realised how big the island really was and how much there was to see. But a war was not the right time to marvel at nature. Even now, Matheus barely had an eye for the beauty of the world — what was a goblin king like, Matheus mused. Like a normal goblin with a crown, or was it a separate species? Perhaps such a goblin looked entirely different. But he couldn’t shake off another thought: what would happen if they found him? They said they wanted him dead or alive, but the commander had only winked at “alive”. So dead it was. But what about the ponygirl? The soldiers’ words still sent a shiver down his spine. They crept on and came to two large rocks that formed the entrance to a small valley, like a portal in the middle of nature. They scurried up and, to their surprise, saw a human tied to a tree. A ponygirl! Matheus gulped. She was beautiful, at least to his taste. Most people would have described her as crude, but Matheus had never cared for porcelain dolls. Her strong legs stood securely on the ground while her mane fluttered in the wind. Her hands were hidden under her saddle, while her feet were in high pony boots. She turned to the two men and, as expected, a broad horse bit was stuck in her mouth. “Be careful, there will be a goblin around here somewhere.” Matheus nodded. He went through the gap first — it was just wide enough for him to squeeze through — and studied the surroundings, but all was silent. His companion followed him, but he was barely in the narrow passage when a goblin leapt out of the shadows above them and killed the man. Matheus jumped back and drew his sword. It was old and rusty, but that was all he had as a soldier, only the officers had decent blades. The goblin skilfully rolled off the corpse and held his sword in front of him. To a human, it would have been just a knife, but on a goblin it looked large — and very sharp. It was a quality blade, better than any steel Matheus had seen in this war. “You’re the prince, or king now, am I right?” asked Matheus. “And you’re about to be dead. You humans are getting on my nerves. What have we done to you that you can’t leave us in peace? Is it just the ponygirls? Then why are you slaughtering them too? They’re innocent!” “You started this war!” shouted Matheus, although he was far from sure. “Do you really believe that? Why should we, or are you believing that we are winning? Your kind wouldn’t even talk to us. Destroy just want to destroy us, that’s all. But what do I tell you, in the afterlife you can ask your comrades about it yourself!” The goblin king leapt forward and missed Matheus by a hair’s breadth. Their blades crossed on the next blow, cutting Matheus’ sword deeply. “If you surrender, I will kill you quickly and painlessly. Your people weren’t that generous to mine!” Matheus dodged again, using his quicker legs. Goblins were nimble with their arms, and their light weight meant they could survive impressive falls, but they were inferior to humans when it came to running. He sprinted to the ponygirl and cut through her reins. “Run away!” Matheus shouted, but the ponygirl just looked at him with wide eyes and stayed put. “Fool, she will never leave my side. Buttercup is a royal mare. The last horse you didn’t murder.” “I haven’t killed anyone who didn’t attack me first!” The king laughed. “Good for you. But that doesn’t change anything.” The next blow hit Matheus’ sword again. He took a step back and stumbled over the ponygirl’s outstretched leg. He only managed to save himself from the goblin’s blade with a quick roll. “Don’t do that, you’re human too!” hissed Matheus, but the ponygirl only neighed. “How about a compromise: you run away and I’ll chase you with Buttercup. If you’re faster, you can go. If not, you’ll pay the price for your cruelty.” The goblin spread his arms and grinned broadly, but there was one thing he hadn’t considered: a soldier had more than one weapon. Matheus pulled a small knife from a pocket behind his back and threw it at the goblin so quickly and skilfully that the goblin fell over backwards with the grin still on his face. Before Matheus could approach the corpse, the ponygirl pushed him aside and threw herself over the fallen king. It was a heartbreaking sight, had it not been so repulsive to Matheus at the same time. She was human, weeping for her slave master; was it just habit that made her do it? “I’m sorry, but I had to do it. You heard him.” He carefully approached the bound girl — actually more of a young woman, he realised. She wasn’t listening and seemed to have completely forgotten about him. “What am I going to do with you? If I take you to the others, you’ll probably suffer a fate almost worse than death. If it’s true and you were one of the king’s special ponygirls, you won’t be treated well.” Buttercup — as Matheus remembered the king had called her — turned to him and glared at him hatefully. “If you promise not to scream, I’ll take the horse bit out of your mouth.” Her eyes continued to burn like fire. He came closer and after a few attempts managed to remove the horse bit. “What’s your real name?” She looked at him blankly. Her jaw moved back and forth as if she hadn’t been without her bit for a long time. Matheus waited for her to speak, but she remained silent. “You can’t talk at all, can you? But do you understand me?” The young woman nodded slowly. “At least something. Where did they catch you… I mean, are you from far away?” Buttercup tilted her head and looked at him like he was a terrible fool — which probably wasn’t far from the truth at that point. “You’re from here? Are you,” he hesitated, using that word for a human seemed fundamentally wrong, “from a breeding farm?” The girl nodded, and Matheus dropped to the dirt. Humans who were bred. Until now, he had thought it was a fairy tale to make the goblins look even more like monsters, but so it was true. What other surprises did this war have in store? “You don’t need to be afraid any more. I will take you to a safe place where no one can harm you.” Buttercup’s gaze wandered back to the king. “But first we’ll bury your goblin.” — “And then you went home and you married her?” asked Izzy after her father had taken a long break. He was visibly exhausted by the story. “It wasn’t that simple. The war wasn’t over yet, and as a soldier, you can’t just leave the battlefield when it suits you. It made no difference that the king was dead — or rather, the young king. It was not for me to decide the end of the war. Then there was your mother: the prince had grown up with her, which is another reason why his death was such a shock to her. From what she told me, their relationship was similar to yours and Grall’s, except she was officially a ponygirl from birth.” “But I’m not his ponygirl.” “At least earlier, you were one.” Izzy made a face but said nothing. “Can you imagine how difficult it is to get from there to our home if you desert? No, you can’t. And I’m grateful for that. But I can tell you a few things, including how I met Oozol.” Izzy nodded and sat back down in the straw while her father walked around the small stable, remembering. — “What’s wrong?” asked Matheus as he held Buttercup’s reins. It was still strange to lead her with them, but it had soon become clear that there was no way round it. She was a ponygirl all her life; she trembled as soon as he took the saddle and bridle off her. It seemed to him that she was afraid of the world without her gear, almost as if the freedom threatened her. The bridle had become a part of her personality, and he quickly realised that she felt as naked without her ponygirl gear as he would without his trousers. But since they were in great danger, it appeared wiser to him to postpone the solution of this problem until later, and to put as much distance as possible between himself and the other soldiers for now. But that was no easy matter; he knew from the officer’s descriptions that soldiers were looking for the king everywhere. It was only a matter of time before they ran into a troop — there was no doubt that he would be recognised immediately as a deserter, and then Buttercup would be done for. He looked back at her and blushed. A ponygirls clothes hid little, especially the things that mattered. Especially her… — Izzy interrupted her father. “You don’t have to tell EVERYTHING!” She had gone pale. Of course, she realised how others saw a half-naked ponygirl, but she really didn’t want to know what her father thought about her mother’s body. That was just disgusting. Old people shouldn’t be allowed to have such thoughts, not even in the past! “Well, let me put it this way: it was love at first sight. First the primitive kind, but later the real one.” “Go on. PLEASE!” Matheus smiled, clearly taking some pleasure in teasing his daughter about it. It was one of the few pleasures that all parents shared. — To his surprise, Buttercup didn’t seem to be cold despite the thin clothing. He offered her his coat several times, but she always refused — and he guessed that she thought he needed it more, even though he was already wearing trousers, a shirt and a vest. He led her further through the forest; for hours they walked crouched through the undergrowth, always careful to avoid any major path. It was a strange mixture of the absolute peacefulness of nature and the horror that hid somewhere behind it. Buttercup was nervous too; she may have been a ponygirl, but she seemed to understand exactly what was at stake. She made no unnecessary noises as she trotted across the dry leaves in her hoof boots. It was an impressive sight to see how elegantly the ponygirl ran through the forest despite the heavy constriction. But a few hours later, Matheus noticed a tug on the reins. Buttercup neighed softly and led him behind a large tree. She squeezed her legs together and pranced around slightly. “What do you want?” asked Matheus. His thoughts were all about their escape, and he overlooked the obvious. “Come on, we’re far from safe.” He wanted to move on, but Buttercup refused. She crouched down and looked him straight in the eye. “Oh, of course. I’m sorry.” Matheus blushed all over as he released Buttercup from the strap between her legs. He turned around, but Buttercup just neighed again. “Go on, we don’t have time!” — Izzy giggled. “You really had no idea, did you?” “Not the slightest. You’ll let me know if you… you know…?” “Don’t you dare to say it!” Izzy bit her tongue. “Maybe later…” Matheus laughed. “Let me continue, now comes the important part!” — Buttercup wriggled around, but Matheus had no idea what was wrong. His eyes wandered past the trees with concern. They shouldn’t stay here too long, otherwise the danger of being found was far too great. A soft giggle made them both freeze. They looked around, but they were alone. Someone giggled again. Buttercup and Matheus stared at each other, then both raised their heads at the same time. Their gazes locked on a goblin hanging upside down from a rope above them. The goblin put his hand over his mouth, but his eyes were already watering with laughter and he couldn’t hold back the sniggering. “How does a fool like you get a fine specimen of a ponygirl like that? Isn’t that one of our prince’s saddles? Oh, you’re in big trouble! Soldier or not, this won’t end well!” “Shut up, we’ll be heard. Do you think you’ll be spared then?” “Oh, and you will? You’re a soldier of the humans, what have I got to lose? But thank you for this little show, you’ve given a doomed man a last reason to laugh.” Matheus rolled his eyes. “If you know what her problem is, why don’t you say so?” “What good would it do me?” “Your life.” The goblin laughed snidely. “You humans are all liars. You’d just take me to your commander, who’d cut off my ears and then my head.” “You’d have to get in line, my head would roll first,” Matheus said, running his finger along his throat. “What’s your name? “Oozol. And you, what is your name, and what have you done to be so unpopular with your own kind?” Matheus told him what had happened, and the goblin fell silent. “Then all is lost. Our king was a terrible fool, but his son — the prince — was a good goblin. But that’s war, I suppose, the good and the bad die. Let me down and I’ll help you.” “First tell me what’s wrong with the ponygirl. “Fine. She wants to pee, but a ponygirl can only do it if she’s allowed to. You’re her master now — after all, you killed her owner and claimed her — so you have to let her.” “I freed her!” “Looks to me like she’s still a ponygirl.” Oozol shrugged his shoulders as best he could while upside down. “Here’s what you need to say: Rhida Kess. Then it’ll work.” Buttercup looked at him suffering, she had heard the words but was waiting for Matheus to say them. “Rhida Kess,” he said, and immediately the forest floor got damp. He looked away and instead searched for the end of the rope that hung Oozol from the tree. It had been thrown over a high branch and knotted at the bottom of the tree trunk. The knot was quickly undone with the knife, and Matheus carefully lowered the goblin down. Before Oozol could do anything, Matheus tied his arms behind his back and fastened a rope between his legs so that he couldn’t run away. “What are you doing, I helped you!” “That’s why you’re still alive. Nobody said anything about freedom. Maybe later, when I trust you — if I ever trust you. I grew up with a dog who could judge people very well; and like all animals, he couldn’t stand you goblins. Without a lead, he would have torn any of you to shreds. What is it about you that animals hate you so much… For now, you stay with us, I can make good use of your knowledge.” Oozol spat on the ground. “How do I know you won’t end up handing me over to your soldier friends? I’ve seen what they do to goblins, you might as well kill me.” As the two argued, Buttercup paced nervously around them. It was obvious that she wasn’t comfortable and was waiting for a new order. “Zhrak!” the goblin shouted, and Buttercup dropped to her knees and bowed her head. “What are you doing?” hissed Matheus. “She was restless, I ordered her to sit down. You know, like dogs. Sit, stay and so on. That will calm her down. She won’t run around again until we tell her to.” “Don’t do that, she’s not an animal!” Oozol laughed. “You humans really don’t understand ponygirls. So, what’s next?” “As soon as we’re safe, you can go. I can’t offer you anything more than my word. How do you know so much about ponygirls?” The goblin stared angrily up at Matheus, but eventually, he grunted and answered. “My father traded ponygirls, it runs in our family. Can I have the ponygirl when we’re safe?” “No. And your arms will stay tied until I no longer need you. Otherwise, you’ll ride off on her. Isn’t that what you want, am I right?” To Matheus’ surprise, Oozol nodded. “That’s what they’re there for. It would get me to safety quickly. Don’t kid yourself, you’re the reason we’ve been in danger here for so long. Without you, we’d have been up and gone already.” Matheus paid him no further attention; he took Buttercup’s reins and led the way. “Come along, or are you going to wait here for the soldiers?” Oozol grumbled and followed them. “You’ll lead us at night, then we’ll see how good your eyes really are.” — The next few days remained quiet. With Oozol’s help, they managed to get past the humans unseen at night and made good progress. Although they were in goblin country, they only met a few of Oozol’s kind, and to Matheus’ surprise, he also led them past them, although the humans often only noticed them when they had already left the troop of greenskins behind. On the fourth day, Matheus thought he had seen a human village and ventured forth alone from the others, but the humans there turned out to be nothing but ponygirls and stallions. He crept back slowly, but his heart froze at the sight of his king’s soldiers with their boots on Oozol and Buttercup’s necks. With a leap, he hid behind a tree and nervously surveyed the situation. “What have we caught here: a goblin and his ponygirl. Disgusting. Rotten. But that won’t be a problem for much longer,” said the taller of the two men. “Last words, greenling?” Oozol rattled, obviously the man was squeezing the air out of him with his heavy boot. Buttercup was also turning blue. Matheus drew his sword, but a loud growl stopped him. A large dog had crept up behind him and bared its teeth. Before he could bite, his master called him: “Brutus, to me! We’ve got a little fun for you while we’re having ours.” The dog howled and ignored his easy prey, but as soon as he got close to the goblin, he almost went into a frenzy. The big man grabbed the dog and barely managed to stop it from tearing Oozol apart on the spot. The sword in Matheus’ hand gleamed in the sun; it was clean and reflected the warm rays on the weathered tree bark. But Matheus knew that was about to change. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and for a brief moment savoured the songs of the birds in the trees and the gentle breeze that would blow through his hair for perhaps the last time in his life. The little moments were often so precious and simply not honoured enough, he thought, before leaping forward with a long jump and striking the big man’s head off his shoulders. The man’s hands tightened around the dog’s collar, holding him down as Oozol struggled to free himself from under the powerless boot. But the second soldier was not so easily defeated, he also drew his sword and a fierce fight broke out. He silenced Buttercup with a swift kick to the head, then crossed swords with Matheus. The noise of battle raged through the forest and most of the animals fled, only the dog tugged wildly at his collar to pounce furiously on Oozol. The swords cut deep gashes and sparks flew with each clash, but neither fighter gained the upper hand — they were evenly matched, and only chance could help one of them to victory; chance or a ponygirl which had awoken and kicked an attacker hard right into Matheus’ blade. The man gurgled blood, then the spark of life in his eyes extinguished just as the dog managed to free himself from his dead master’s grip. “Please don’t leave me behind!” pleaded Oozol. Matheus looked at Buttercup, but she only nudged him with her head in Oozol’s direction. Matheus nodded. He jumped at the goblin and skilfully cut his bonds before they both dodged the dog, who only had eyes for Oozol. With a quick grab, Matheus pulled the knife from its sheath and tossed it to Oozol. The dog turned around on the spot — in a blind rage, it charged forward and ran straight into Oozol’s waiting blade. Matheus and Oozol fell exhausted into the dirt. They gazed into each other’s eyes for a long time, neither of them saying a word as Buttercup watched them wait. She pawed nervously with her hoof shoes, but eventually the two men shook hands. “You killed people of your kind for me,” Oozol said quietly. “Actually, I did it for Buttercup. But I know people like those two. They’re almost worse than the war itself. If they had survived it, they would have brought the horror of war with them to their families. No, it’s better this way. Believe me.” Oozol was silent, but then he asked: “Where do you actually want to go?” He spat some blood on the ground. “Only to the west. Somewhere where I don’t have to be afraid of goblins. Or humans, like these two. And what were you doing in the forest?” “I just wanted to get away, somewhere where I wouldn’t have to be afraid of you giants any more.” They were both silent for a moment. “But it looks like this isn’t the right place yet. The war is too close.” “The war can’t go on forever. Anger and hatred eat away at a soul.” Oozol handed him the knife. “Thank you.” “Keep it. Just don’t cut my neck in my sleep, all right?” “Could you do without a few fingers?” They both laughed, and Matheus guessed that he no longer had to be afraid of this goblin. — Their journey took many weeks, during which they managed to escape the dangers of war through cunning, prudence, and a lot of luck. They were only days away from their future home when Oozol crept back through the darkness of the moonless night, bringing news with him. He snuck up to the ancient ruins and — once he was sure no one was following him — walked along the collapsed walls and squeezed past the statue of a fat goblin king with a broken nose from times bygone. “What have you found? Have we finally put the war behind us? Tell me, Oozol!” asked Matheus excitedly. They hadn’t met any soldiers — humans or goblins — for a few days now, and slowly he allowed himself a little hope in these cruel times. “Tell. Oozol. Tell!” Buttercup also squeaked. It still seemed unusual for Oozol to hear a royal mare speak, but Matheus had insisted that she learn to talk. It had not been easy, after all, she had spent her life listening at best, but never saying anything herself. The first words came slowly and with effort, but like a small child imitating its parents, Buttercup had become good at mimicking Matheus. She still insisted on having the horse bit in her mouth most of the time, but even she was curious enough now. Matheus smiled at her, every word was a great victory for him, and brought the woman a little closer towards her freedom. “Patience, you two, I’m telling you!” he explained, deliberately slowly, to annoy his now dearly endeared companions a little. “We’re almost safe!” He raised his hand before the cheering became too much. “At least Matheus and I are. In this part of the world — close to the border of the human world and goblin country — peace is already a reality. There’s a village a few days away where humans and goblins live in peace. That’s where we should go.” “Then what are we waiting for?” asked Matheus in surprise, who couldn’t help but notice that Oozol was looking worriedly at Buttercup. “It’s safe for you and me. But Buttercup is a ponygirl. She won’t be allowed to live free. Not the way she looks now.” He pointed to the saddle and the bridle with the bit and reins hanging down. All this had often been useful to them in the last few weeks, after all Oozol was too small and slow to keep up with the humans without Buttercup — besides, the ponygirl clearly enjoyed being ridden — but now there was a problem with that. “If you really want her to be human, she has to stop being a ponygirl.” — “She liked being ridden?” asked Izzy in surprise, blushing slightly at the thought. She herself had enjoyed a few rides, but… “It was her life. It was what she was used to. In fact, Oozol still rode her often later when she wanted to. Being useful to someone gave her life meaning. She told me it filled her with a purpose, a reason to exist. Imagine how hard it must have been for her to give up everything that had made her happy. The saddle there is not her original one, but Oozol had it made as a gift for your mother.” Izzy nodded slowly. She understood that well. It had made her feel good to help her friend when he was in need. — Buttercup neighed nervously, even though she didn’t have a horse bit in her mouth. It was probably pure habit, and yet she sounded very anxious. “It’s time,” Matheus said and put his hand on Buttercup’s shoulder. He would have liked to hold her hand too, but as so often, she had insisted on the saddle and that her hands were tied underneath. None of this was necessary, but Matheus had long since understood how much she needed these things to keep her from losing her mind. But it had to stop now. “We’ve talked about this. You deserve to be free. Nobody knows you here, you can start a new life!” “Or you can give her to me,” Oozol suggested, as he had done many times before. Buttercup also nodded eagerly. “No!” Matheus shouted far too loudly, and the others looked at him reproachfully. “No,” he repeated more quietly. “I’m walking this path with you so that we’ll all be free in the end. Including Buttercup. Freedom can be scary sometimes, but at least you should experience it. If you still want to be a ponygirl later, I won’t stop you. But you should make that choice of your own free will.” — Izzy swallowed, but she didn’t interrupt her father. — “Let’s get started,” Matheus said, and loosened the first strap from Buttercup’s saddle. She whimpered softly, even though this was not the first time her saddle had been untied. But she knew that this might be goodbye forever. Matheus lifted the saddle from her back and placed it on the ground, but Oozol hissed loudly. “That’s not the way to do it. It’s a sin to free a ponygirl. If we’re going to do it, let’s at least put the gear under the statue. Maybe that will appease our god. The statue isn’t dedicated to him, but that’s as good as it gets.” Matheus nodded and placed the saddle in a large niche beneath the statue. Then came the bridle, the reins and finally the bit. Buttercup gritted her teeth so that he couldn’t take the bit from her, but Matheus was patient and waited until her strength gave out. A tear ran down her cheek as Matheus placed the bit in the alcove. “No. No,” she begged, but Matheus just shook his head. “Did you get what I asked you for?” asked Matheus, and Oozol nodded. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a crumpled, thin summer dress. “Here, this is for you. You can still keep your boots on, nobody will see them under the dress. But we need to remove the hooves.” That was quickly done, and for the first time in weeks she was no longer announced by the tap-tap-tap of her hooves. He helped her into the dress, and although she was beautiful to him in it, he couldn’t help but notice how unhappy she looked. “I promise, you don’t have to be human if you don’t like it. I’ll take you to Oozol and you can be his ponygirl. But do you trust me, and will you try?” Buttercup nodded. “Try. Briefly.” “That’s good enough for me.” Oozol slapped his thigh. “Then it’s time for us to go to our new home. Let’s hope we can finally find peace there.” The Party Izzy looked at her father in amazement. “You’ve left a lot out. An awful lot…” “There were a few adventures and problems afterwards — your mum couldn’t even boil water! — but that’s not relevant now. The village welcomed us with open arms, and we were all able to make a new home here. No one ever knew — except Oozol and probably Grall — that your mum was a ponygirl, although I think a few suspected it. But it was also a little easier than with a normal ponygirl: the prince’s mare didn’t have to be registered or pay taxes — the privilege of the nobles. Only her brand could give her away, and her missing teeth because of the horse’s bit.” He hung the saddle on a hook and stroked it carefully. “But once, horse hunters came to our village and your mother narrowly escaped them. If anyone in the village suspected the truth, they didn’t give your mother away.” Izzy bit her lower lip. She herself had once surrendered a ponygirl… a feeling of deep shame spread through her. She had denied a poor girl the protection that her own mother had probably received. “After that, we secretly registered her to Oozol, so we were covered in an emergency. Within a few months, your mum could speak quite well; and whenever someone asked us about it, we simply explained that she was from far away and had to learn our language first. It probably convinced most people. Apart from the three of us, only old Hersia ever knew the truth for sure, but she also helped you into the world, so it was hard for us to hide the brand. However, after that, it was no longer important…” They both looked sadly into each other’s eyes. They had rarely spoken about Izzy’s mother’s death, partly because it was difficult for a child to understand that it was not their fault if their mother died in childbirth. Today Izzy was older, and understood things better, and yet she felt a burden on her that wasn’t really hers. “It would be so wonderful if she could see you today. I’m sure she would be able to give you better advice than I can on this subject. But you’ll have to make do with your old father. But as you can see, I trust Oozol and his son. To the extent that I’ll entrust you to them too, if that’s what you want.” She chewed hard on her cheek until she could taste some blood. “I’m not sure. It’s… not as bad as I thought. And somehow it’s also…” “Liberating? Your mum always told me that life as a ponygirl was more carefree. As a horse, you don’t have to worry about many things, the difficult issues are taken off your hands. She described it as a positive emptiness; she only learnt about real worries and hardships during the war and as a human. That’s why she often went to the stables later in difficult times and occasionally let Oozol ride her. Maybe it was just nostalgia, but something about her old life had real meaning for her.” “In her former life, did she…” Izzy chewed on her lower lip. “Am I her…” Matheus cleared his throat before answering. “She never wanted to tell me about that. I’m sure she didn’t want to hurt my feelings. You have to understand that as a ponygirl, she had no choice. But the truth is also that even if you had siblings out there, the war will probably have eaten them. We all lost something in those years.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “While we’re on the subject, hopefully you’ll give your old dad many grandchildren one day. Bastian always looked good to you.” Izzy suddenly blushed. “Yes, but he’s also a cocky bastard. Besides…” “Oh, grand foals would be fine too, of course.” “Stop it…!” Izzy gulped, preferring to change the subject hastily. “Has she ever forgiven you?” “You mean about the prince?” He stared thoughtfully out of the door. “No, never really. It was a hard blow for her. It never tarnished our love, but it was still painful for her. That’s why I have an inkling of what it’s like between you and Grall. Everything I did for her was out of love, even if it didn’t always feel that way to her straight away. But she trusted me and in the end she was happy. Give yourself time to think. It wasn’t an easy choice for your mum. She often thought about going to Oozol in the stable. But our love grew with each passing day — it was a long journey, but you can believe me when I tell you that we were both happy in the end. She would have loved you very much.” He wiped a small tear from his eye and took a deep breath. “I’ll go to Oozol and tell him you’re ill and can’t come. That will give you some time to think. But before you go to bed, I’d better take you behind the stable again.” Izzy blushed, but nodded gratefully. — Two days later, Matheus and Izzy were sitting down for breakfast. The bread was fresh and the cheese homemade. They ate it in silence, but both sensed the question in the air. They had not exchanged a word since their conversation in the stable, although they had often met — as was inevitable in such a small house. But Izzy was still unsure of herself, and Matheus seemed to sense this. He gave her the time she needed. But something was different at this breakfast. Izzy felt strangely alone, unneeded. As if she wasn’t doing what she was supposed to be doing. She gritted her teeth. “Do you want to try again?” her father finally asked, as if he had noticed his daughter’s thoughts. Izzy was almost startled by the sound of his voice. Two voices were shouting at each other in her head: Her emotions and her mind. Her feelings were about Grall, the rides and the fun they had often had together as ponygirl and rider. And then there was her mum… but at the same time her mind was screaming what a stupid cow she was to even think about it! The road could only end one way, and that wasn’t good. But for a moment, her emotions got the better of her and she nodded. “But you have to understand one thing, Izzy: goblin law is different from ours, especially when it comes to humans. There is a clear separation between humans and ponygirls, and that separation is irreversible. Only the goblins determine who is a human and who is a ponygirl. But most importantly, habit can lead to ownership in goblins. If too many goblins see you as a ponygirl, you’re a ponygirl. Then Grall can declare you his property, even if you don’t want him to.” Again, Izzy nodded dumbly. Her mind screamed even louder, but she didn’t listen. They both finished breakfast in silence, then wordlessly walked out into the yard and into the stable. “You know how to do that?” she asked, even though she knew the answer. Her dress fell to the ground, and he skilfully put the saddle on her, then the bridle and boots. He held the horse bit in his hand. “Are you sure you want this?” “Not forever. But I want to try again.” “You don’t have to do it just because your mum was a ponygirl.” Izzy thought for a long time before answering. It was a strange feeling, and maybe it was true — it wasn’t just about Grall, her mum was a reason too. “I want to understand how she lived. Just one more time. Then I’ll stop.” — Matheus led them along a narrow footpath to Oozol’s courtyard so that no one could see them. They both stopped in front of the entrance. “Have fun, Buttercup,” her father said before tying her to a post and walking back. It was still very early and dark, the yard was asleep, so she had to wait until almost dawn to be found. It was strangely humiliating to have to wait tied up like that, but of course, she had no choice — but somehow it was also exactly the kind of life she wanted to experience again. Her time was meaningless; she was only there to be available to her rider at all times, and otherwise wait to be needed. Izzy endured it without grumbling — her mum had grown up like this and she wanted to feel what it meant again; it was the first time in her life that she felt truly connected to her mother. Does everyone else feel like this when they follow in their parents’ footsteps, Izzy wondered, shuffling her hooves. With the rising sun, Pexo found her and, yawning, loosened her reins. Without a word, he led her across the yard and past her usual stable. “Your stable isn’t clean yet, you’ll have to wait somewhere else for a moment,” he explained, his eyes dropping. “This one should be fine.” He put his hand over his mouth, then opened the door, pushing Izzy inside and slamming only the bottom door shut behind her. The sun was rising behind the stable, so it was still gloomy inside despite the open top-half of the door, but Izzy was used to that by now. She sighed and was about to sit down in a corner when she noticed a movement in the darkness. She startled and pressed herself against the door. Although her eyes were still used to the night, it was not enough to recognise more than a shadow, but she knew by instinct that she was not alone. Another pony was in the stable with her. But who? She lifted her nose into the air and detected an unfamiliar odour — it was pleasant and tart, strange and yet familiar. She ventured a step forwards; was it Sunshine? No, she smelled different. All ponygirls smelled different. Her legs became soft. She neighed softly, it sounded shrill and anxious in her ears too. The answer was also a neigh — it was deeper, more powerful. A stallion. Izzy trembled. Was it Titan? The stallion she had seen before? He was big, powerful, strong, interesting… and exciting. She swallowed and took a step into the darkness. By now, more light was coming into the stable and she could make out the first outline. The stallion rose slowly and Izzy sensed that he was studying her closely. She was already more in the light and must be a pleasant sight for him. She knew very well how men reacted to women — in this case, that probably translated well to a stallion and a mare. She neighed once more and the stallion took a step forwards. It was only a small movement, but with his muscular legs he crossed half the stable until the chains stopped him. The sun revealed more of his form, and also the enthusiasm he showed for her. Izzy blushed; but wasn’t it also flattering? Had she ever been able to get another man so excited for her? She didn’t know for sure, but here it was right in front of her. The stallion grinned through his bit. There were still a couple feet separating them, but only for as long as Izzy wanted. Something drew her to him, close to him, to his strong chest. She licked her teeth and took a step towards him. Not enough to be with him, but enough to make him tug wildly at the chains. “What’s going on?” shouted Grall. Izzy turned around on the spot and stared at Grall and Oozol, who were leaning over the stable door watching her. Horrified, she took a few steps backwards and bumped into the stallion, who enthusiastically thrust his manhood between her thighs, but didn’t quite reach his target. She was startled and hopped forwards again; she stumbled and hit the door. “Take it easy, Buttercup. What are you doing in the stable with Titan?” He turned to the yard and shouted, “Who put my horse in the stable with Titan? “I’m sure it was just an accident, son. Calm down. Nothing happened after all. Although Buttercup looks a bit disappointed,” Oozol sneered. Grall was upset like he rarely was and Izzy looked at him with wide eyes. “How could you look at that so calmly? You know her — did you want her to have a foal?” “She’s not a ponygirl, like she always says. She can decide for herself. Are you telling me she wasn’t interested?” Izzy’s head was spinning. Oozol really was a true goblin. Would he have watched if… if… no, it wouldn’t have happened! She was just curious. Nevertheless, she felt something wet on her bum that the stallion had left behind. Was that what a ponygirl felt like? Her mum had too… — she quickly suppressed the thought. “Look how unhappy Titan is. You should give them some more time,” Oozol suggested, but Grall shook his head vigorously. The young goblin opened the door and pulled Izzy roughly by the reins behind him. “How could you! You really offered yourself to him!” he scolded, visibly indignant. “You… oh, I should have known. You ponygirls are all the same.” He took her to her own stable, which, to her surprise, now even bore a plaque with her name and a few dates — her ponygirl name, of course: Buttercup, Riding Horse. Tame. She rolled her eyes. Tame; of course, what else could a goblin think of her? Grall walked away without a word, but he threw his arms in the air several times on the way and grumbled something unintelligible. While she waited for Grall, the other horses were prepared for their day, and then it was her turn. Grall seemed to have calmed down a bit, he even smiled a little. “I’m sorry I was so rude — I was just surprised. Fortunately, nothing happened. But it’s nice to have you back. You did choose me, didn’t you?” He took the horse bit out of her mouth. “You only have me for today, then I’ll stop,” she explained, and Grall nodded disappointedly. “My father told me everything about my mum. It’s just too much for me. I can’t and don’t want to be a ponygirl forever. Besides, school starts again tomorrow. You only have a week’s holiday left, too. When we’re finished, I’ll get rid of this stupid tax stamp, it always rubs my leg!” She blushed slightly when Grall looked at it. “How could my mum live with that?” Grall put the bit back in her mouth with slumped shoulders, but something about his eyes told Izzy that he hadn’t quite given up yet. But ultimately, it didn’t matter, this was her decision. “If she was the prince’s horse, she certainly didn’t have any. A prince doesn’t pay taxes. As a farewell, I have something special planned,” he said. After a quick “Tack”, he sat in the saddle and rode her out of the courtyard. Izzy was determined to let every experience sink in today. She was already completely used to the horse bit, but today she concentrated again to taste the metal and the wood, to feel the sensation on her tongue and never forget any of it. Grall pushed her along and soon they were on a short ride on the goblin side of town, but still far enough out so no one could see them. Her hooves kicked up dirt from the footpath, while birds sang softly in the trees. It was another beautiful day, and a pleasant farewell to the holidays that had changed so much for Izzy. She was lost in her thoughts again and Grall stopped her with the reins before she even noticed the goblins ahead. She froze in shock. “So you really weren’t lying. Well, well, a real ponygirl,” said an ugly little goblin boy. Izzy always had a hard time guessing the age of goblins, but this one had to be about the same age as Grall. Izzy had heard about these goblins before, they were from Grall’s class, but that didn’t make it any better that they saw Izzy like this now; slowly the names came back to her: The boy in front of her was called Kreks, next to him — slightly taller — was Yreo and behind them were two girls: Mexi and Lidea. “I always tell the truth. This is Buttercup I told you about,” Grall said with pride in his voice. Izzy’s blood froze in her veins. She wanted to look at him, but the reins prevented it. How dare he tell others about her like that! Oozol had promised her that no one would find out, and now her own best friend, of all people, was betraying her. “Looks good,” Yreo said as he walked around Izzy, patting her flank and bum repeatedly. “Gorgeous build, good stature. Good round saddle bum. Decent breasts; the bit sits well in the mouth, only the mane is a bit wild.” Izzy closed her eyes at this description, but her ears remained open to her displeasure. “It does make me a little envious, my father just won’t buy me a ponygirl. You’re one of the few in the class to have your own, lucky you.” He doesn’t have his own ponygirl, Izzy thought, but discussing it with the horse bit in her mouth was impossible. Besides, she wanted to know how a ponygirl felt, and that was the way it was. You were judged and evaluated, but had no say in the matter. But she also remembered her father’s warning well; she had never been so dangerously close to the real life of a ponygirl — and, to her shame, she felt a warm feeling in her underbelly when she thought about it. “Tack!” Grall ordered and got out of the saddle with the help of the stirrups. “You’ve trained her well,” Yreo remarked. “She’s very docile,” Grall boasted to Izzy’s displeasure. “Does she sit too?” “Why not? I haven’t tried it yet, but I’m sure she listens. Zhrak!” Izzy blushed. She had only recently heard the command in her father’s story, but she knew exactly what was expected of her now. She bit her lip, looked angrily at Grall for a moment, then dropped to her knees and bowed her head. It was humiliating — like so many things before — but she probably had no choice if she didn’t want to give herself away. The girls watched Izzy at a distance, but Kreks was less shy. “Come on, let’s go for a ride too. You said she was fast.” “She’s the fastest horse in my father’s stable.” “You can tell a lot!” Grall pondered, and Izzy was beginning to hope he would turn it down, but a sharp “Tack” showed her he wasn’t. What a fool! “Ladies first!” He grinned at the two girls; Mexi in particular blushed. Izzy was fuming, but Grall just stroked her bum — and even briefly between her legs to her horror — and made soothing noises that only excited Izzy more. “Please play along. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut, I’m sorry about that. I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” He turned to the others. “You don’t have to be afraid, Buttercup is a very tame horse, she won’t harm you.” Izzy stamped her feet. The girls approached her uncertainly; there was genuine fear in their eyes. Izzy was a little ashamed that she had frightened them so much and lowered her head. Mexi mounted Izzy first. Grall held Izzy’s reins tightly so that she didn’t jump up in fright. It was still a strange feeling for Izzy to have a rider besides Grall in the saddle. The girl took the reins with trembling hands and gave Izzy a kick so light she almost didn’t notice it. Now she really had become a ponygirl — she no longer allowed her best friend a place in the saddle, she was ridden without being asked. The girl was lighter than Grall, so light that Izzy almost didn’t notice the weight on her back. She trotted along the road for a short loop before Mexi dismounted again. “That was so exciting, my first ride on a ponygirl. Thank you, Buttercup!” She gave Izzy a little kiss on the forehead and received a friendly neigh and a place in Izzy’s heart in return. She was followed by Lidea, who was already a little more seasoned. They travelled halfway down the road with, as did Yreo, who was clearly an experienced rider. He held the reins lightly and only intervened when necessary. Grall could learn a thing or two from him, Izzy thought, and she realised that she could now even judge the qualities of different riders; what a strange experience. “She has a good gait, if still a little raw. I’m sure your father can still train her a little more.” Last up was Kreks. The boy was very excited, he immediately jumped into the saddle and gave Izzy a good kick before she had fully risen. Grall warned him to be careful, but Kreks urged Izzy on. Behind the last row of trees, he pulled hard on her reins and steered her painfully onto the next road, out of sight of the others. As soon as they had disappeared behind the trees, Kreks took a thin elastic twig out of his shirt and cracked it like a whip on Izzy’s bottom. Izzy howled loudly, but at the same time she jumped forwards as if she could escape the whip. That was nonsense, of course, as her tormentor was sitting on her back, and yet it worked with every stroke. The whip alternately cracked against her buttocks and sent Izzy galloping across the gravel track like a whirlwind. “Faster, faster!” Kreks shouted and tormented Izzy until her bum was covered in welts. The loud clop-clop-clop of her hooves echoed through the forest. Kreks led her in a wide arc back to the others, where she stopped, exhausted and in tears. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her whole backside was burning like fire; she didn’t even notice the horrified looks on the faces of the other goblins when Grall pulled the boy out of her saddle. The first blow hit Kreks directly on the nose, which broke with a loud crack. Kreks cried out loudly, but Grall didn’t let go of him. He hit the boy again and again until his hands must have hurt and he hit the boy with the same branch he had maltreated Izzy with. Izzy, on the other hand, was too shocked to do anything. Not that she really wanted to stop Grall, but his anger still surprised her. Finally, Grall was satisfied; he threw the stick into the Wood, leaned against an old tree and took a deep breath. Izzy had never seen him so furious. Was it just because of her, or was it because Kreks had damaged something that Grall considered his property? She looked at him for a long time and could only hope it was a sign of his true friendship. “Nobody beats Buttercup — without my permission. And certainly not like that!” His voice cut the air like a sharp blade. The other goblins nodded hurriedly. Kreks was still lying on the ground, whimpering and hiding his face. “Can I have a look?” Mexi asked, carefully walking around Izzy. “That looks bad. A branch is not a good riding crop. I’ve brought some ointment, can I apply it?” Izzy was about to nod when she realised, grumbling, that the question was addressed at Grall. How could it be otherwise? Grall nodded, and Mexi spread the healing ointment on Izzy’s bum. It felt strange the way the girl massaged the ointment in, but Izzy tried to smile at her through the horse bit anyway. “Tack,” Grall said, taking Izzy’s head in his arms. He wiped the tears from her eyes, then whispered, “You were really fast. Incredibly fast. We need to talk about this.” Izzy rolled her eyes. She was certainly never going to let anyone ride her with a branch in their hand again! Or ever… But she also noticed the pride she saw in his eyes, and if she was completely honest with herself, she was a little proud too. He mounted her saddle and was about to ride off when Mexi stopped him. “We want to make it up to you!” she said, and the others — except Kreks — nodded. “We’re having a big party at my house today, does that sound good?” Grall appeared to be thinking. He tapped Izzy on the shoulder, who turned her head towards him. She’d never been to a goblin party before, but there’s always a first time, Izzy thought, and these goblins owed her one. She nodded slowly, then Grall nodded too. He gave Izzy a little kick and she trotted off alongside the goblins. Izzy’s mind raced. What was a goblin party like? She had known goblins all her life, but outside the village feasts most goblins kept to themselves. Grall was a goblin, but he was more of an outsider there and, like Izzy, still very green behind the ears when it came to partying — even more green than usual. Surely, they had their own drinking games and music, she thought, and was actually starting to look forward to it. It was about time she got out of the ponygirl stuff again. The experience just now had made it clear to her that the life of a ponygirl — her mum’s life — just wasn’t for her. They turned away from the forest path and, to Izzy’s horror, the ride also took them through a neighbouring goblin village. The people hardly noticed them, only a few had a closer look at the interesting ponygirl. Izzy blushed slightly. As a ponygirl, she was used to being half-naked among goblins by now, but she had seen some of the goblins here in the village before — and judging by the looks on their faces, they recognised her too. Her father’s warning echoed in her head, but it was too late now anyway. Her destination was not in the village, but on a small hill further on: It was a magnificent estate that towered above the trees, exuding power and influence. Mexis’ family must have a lot of money to be able to afford a house like this, Izzy thought. At the top, they stopped in a large courtyard, with the manor house to the left and a row of warehouses and stables to the right. Mexi waved to a man — a human — to whom she handed Izzy’s reins. “This is Buttercup, my new friend Grall’s horse here. Please take it to the stable and look after it. We’ll be at the party and pick it up in the morning.” Grall nodded and stroked Izzy once more, then disappeared into the manor with his new friends. Only Kreks gave her another dirty look. Izzy’s heart sank to her knees. She had been a fool again — the invitation was of course only for Grall, not his animal; it was a goblin party, and would probably remain so. How could she even dream of that? Now she would spend the night in a strange stable while her best friend partied wildly. The man led her to a small stable and freed her from her clothes, but not without keeping her tied up — as was customary with the goblins. Still, it was more humiliating than usual; it just made a difference whether a human or a goblin washed her. “You’re a really good horse,” he said in a tone befitting a groom. Izzy hated it, but she had no choice. His hands were big and rough, and it was obvious he thoroughly enjoyed his work. “Take it easy, you’ll be clean in no time. They’ve done a number on you, you poor thing.” To her relief, she soon stood shining in the square, ready for her night quarters. “Come on, you’ll love the stable. No one will bother you there.” Izzy neighed and the man laughed. He led her on a lead to a wide door, through which he pushed her into the stable. But she wasn’t alone — this wasn’t her stable at home, it was a group stable of all the guest ponygirls. The other horses barely looked up when Izzy arrived. Why should they, they were all just animals waiting for their owners. It was dark and windy in the stable, so the other horses stood in a corner and warmed each other up. One mare neighed briefly and nodded in their direction, and Izzy quickly realised that she should stand there too. She didn’t really like being this close, even the saddle was often too much for her, but as a ponygirl you had to get over yourself. It was actually a little cold in the stable, and the rosy skin of the other ponygirls looked promisingly warm. Like Izzy, they were all tied up at the arms and legs and had a night bit in their mouths — so there was no need for false shame. She plucked up her courage and pressed herself against the other horses. It was a strange feeling, a bunch of unfamiliar bodies all rubbing against each other. Most of the ponygirls were silent as they did so, but a few seemed to be taking great pleasure in the situation, and Izzy couldn’t blame them, she too felt that odd warmth in her belly again. — The hours passed and the music from the house became louder and wilder. The party crowd roared into the night and many a couple sneaked past the stable into the woods. For Izzy and her new friends, however, the evening was no reason to celebrate, even if she herself at least had a new experience — she had wanted to know how her mother must have felt, and now she was right in the middle of it. The party had been going on for many hours when Izzy heard voices outside the stables. Her heart froze — it was Kreks and Yreo, and they both sounded very drunk. They were slurring their words and ran into the stable door laughing several times before they could open it. Izzy stamped anxiously, but the groom from earlier came into the stable with them. “Which one is it?” the man asked. “That one there… Buttercup!” Yreo slurred. “We want to apologise to her owner…” He burped, but then managed to hold it in his stomach. “… We have a great idea!” The man nodded slowly. “Remember, she’s not your ponygirl. I’ll get her out of the stable for you, but you’re not allowed to ride her!” Izzy was grateful for the man’s kindness, even if she would have preferred to stay in the stable altogether. He led her out into the frosty night and, on the instructions of the two goblins, tied her over a special rack beside the stable, just as Izzy had seen Oozol do. She had to lean over a cold iron bar at waist height, then her lead was tied to a second, lower bar behind it. Before Izzy could react, the man tied her legs to two poles. Her legs were well spread and Izzy tugged at the restraints, but to no avail. She was helpless, and her most private part was stretched upwards against her will. It was terribly humiliating, especially as she felt the eyes of the two goblin boys on her. Surely, they weren’t going to…? Izzy squeaked excitedly. “What are you going to do now?” “You’ll see in a minute,” said Kreks. “You really messed her up,” said Yreo and hit Kreks over the head, who moaned softly. “Grall just can’t take a joke…” “Cruelty to animals is no fun!” grumbled Yreo, slapping his friend again. The two disappeared briefly into an old warehouse, but Izzy couldn’t see what they came out with. “That’s it?” the man asked. Izzy noticed Yreo beside her. To her horror, he grabbed her breasts and stuck two bells directly onto her nipples. It was terribly silly; she wriggled around and the bells rang loudly. The man grumbled. “She doesn’t seem to like that.” Neither of the goblin boys minded. “Did you see the mark on his shirt?” Izzy couldn’t see what Yreo did next until she felt a damp pencil on her bum. It was still very sensitive due to the welts, but Yreo still drew an intricate pattern on her bum with abandon, then went back and looked at it with satisfaction. “Grall should tip me well for this.” Izzy guessed that they had put some sort of brand on her bottom; they were colourless scars in themselves, but most owners added colour after a while to make it more visible. Completely unnecessary on her, but also somehow… she pushed the thought aside. “Not bad,” Kreks agreed. “But here’s the important part! Again, Izzy couldn’t see what the boys were doing, but the man raised his hand in warning. “You have to start small, you don’t know if she’s used to it.” “Oh, nonsense. Look at her, she’s an experienced ponygirl. I’m sure Grall has just lost hers. We’re starting big!” He slapped Izzy lightly on the bum, who immediately whimpered. “Which colour fits best?” He walked with Yreo to Izzy’s side and — to her great misfortune — held a series of ponytails to her hair. She’d seen this sort of thing in the past; some ponygirl wore them deep into their bums, and now Izzy saw how they were attached: The hair was stuck in large wooden plugs, and she had no doubt where they were going, and who was about to endure it. She wriggled and tugged at her restraints, but it was of no use. “This will make it a little easier.” The man hands them both some butter, which they spread on the plug more sparingly than Izzy would have liked. The piece of wood seemed huge, as if it would split Izzy in two. Kreks went to her bum and pressed the wood against her entrance. Izzy whimpered, but Kreks pushed harder and harder. Without a choice, the wood pushed into Izzy, opening her wider and wider, penetrating deep inside her where no one or anything had ever entered before. She had never intended to, but now she was bound over this hideous frame and had a ponytail shoved up her bum by a strange boy. She wanted to know how her mum must have felt, but not that much! With a plop, the plug disappeared into her bum and was so securely there that she would probably never be able to remove it again. Izzy’s forehead was dripping with sweat and her head was bright red with exertion and heat. She felt the unfamiliar foreign thing inside her, taking its place and pressing into her with every little movement; how was she supposed to be able to walk with it? As a ponygirl, she had already suffered many humiliations, but this was the worst of all! But something else irritated her deeply… this new feeling seemed strangely familiar, like a memory from another life. She shook the thought aside and focussed on the here and now. “Ready!” shouted Yreo. “Come on, let’s go party again. Grall will be surprised tomorrow morning!” Kreks giggled drunkenly. “Keep your tail inside, little horsey. Ponygirls who lose their ponytails get punished hard!” The man led Izzy back into the stable, where the other ponygirls were already waiting for her at the door. “Listen to his warning,” he said. “If I catch you without a ponytail tomorrow, I’ll have to report you. Those are the rules!” Izzy neighed and hugged herself to the other ponygirls who had been watching her ordeal from the stable. The warmth among the horses was a harsh contrast to the terror outside the stable, and only the other ponygirls seemed to really understand. School lesson The next morning didn’t come quickly enough for Izzy. The ponytail in her bum robbed her of sleep that night, plus the unfamiliar surroundings — even if the other ponygirls did their best to welcome her. The bells on her bosom were not very helpful either; whenever she moved too much, she woke up the other ponygirls, so it was a long and sleepless night for everyone, but at least the other ponies were understanding. One by one, they were taken out of the stable and handed over to an overtired Goblin, while Izzy started to get nervous. Today was the first day of school, and even though she didn’t have a watch — why would a horse need one — it was clear by sunrise that time was running out. She certainly didn’t want to be late on her first day, especially as Mrs Flinchel, her teacher, had it in for her anyway. There were only a few months to go before she could finally leave school — and the other pupils — behind her, but until then, she had to hold out a little longer. She pawed nervously and kept looking towards the house, but there was no sign of Grall. She had been the only ponygirl in the stable for an hour when the little goblin finally staggered down the grand staircase from the manor house and ran to the stable. “Get me my horse!” he slurred so loudly that he covered his own ears. He obviously had a hangover, but Izzy didn’t care, after all, she had had to endure a lot during the night while he had been enjoying himself at the party. She was hastily saddled by the groom — it was the man from yesterday again. His fingers stayed where they belonged for the most part, only once brushing unnecessarily between her legs. To her displeasure, the ponytail stayed where it was. “You look good,” Grall said, propping himself unsteadily against Izzy’s bum, running his fingers briefly through her tail as well. His breath smelled of expensive wine. Izzy knew all too well that goblins couldn’t tolerate much alcohol. “Kreks wasn’t lying… it looks good on you. So does the mark.” He swayed slightly. “But the bells are a bit much. Zack er Tack!” The groom lifted him into the saddle and he gave Izzy a light kick as usual. He waved goodbye once more to the manor and Izzy was sure Mexi was waving back from one of the windows. The ride wasn’t far, but for Izzy every meter was a new experience. It was the first night with a plug in her bottom, and now it was the first ride since her rear deflowering. The ponytail was big and hard, her buttocks pushing it back and forth inside her; it was simply impossible not to notice it with every step. A burning heat spread through her abdomen. They hadn’t gone far when Grall stopped her. “You need to walk a little smoother, those bells are way too loud!” he grumbled, as if it was Izzy’s fault that she had the bells on her breasts. “Try walking a little softer. Don’t stomp like that.” He yawned, not seeming to realise how patronising those words were. But since Izzy was also annoyed by the tinkling, she did as he asked. It wasn’t easy to keep her upper body still, but after a few steps she got the hang of it. But even apart from that, there was a tension in the air that even Grall noticed in his condition. He cleared his throat and searched for the right words, which probably wasn’t easy with a heavy head. “You know I really care for you… I’m sorry you had to sleep in the stables, but it was a goblin party… no ponygirls allowed in there, I’m afraid. They think you’re my horse, so I couldn’t take you to the party. You understand that, don’t you?” Izzy shook her head and neighed discontentedly. He took a breath and collected his thoughts. “Kreks didn’t tell me about the ponytail until it was too late. Don’t be angry with him, he’s a bit rough, but you can get along with him. I’m sure he meant well about the tail; it was his way of apologising to me.” He cleared his throat. “It’s not customary for us to ask a horse’s permission for something like that beforehand.” He coughed sheepishly and continued to search for the right words. Izzy only half-listened, her ponytail demanding much of her attention. “The painted brand looks good, and the tail looks great on you. If you don’t mind, I’d like you to wear it all the time.” Again, Izzy wasn’t really listening, she just nodded under the reins and tried to keep a clear head. But Grall was happy with that. “Very well, I’ll have one of my own made for you straight away!” He leaned forward in the saddle and gave her a kiss on the neck. From a great distance, they heard church bells ringing over the forest. Izzy lifted her head and neighed nervously. “What’s going on? Is my little ponygirl up to something today?” he asked jokingly, but then it hit him like a hammer blow. “The school!” He gave Izzy a harder kick and spurred her on. Her feet flew across the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust behind them. “I’ll ride you straight to school!” Izzy shook her head vigorously. “You’re right, that would be stupid. We’ll take a shortcut to your house, then maybe you can still make it!” He slapped her lightly on the bum, and it was surreal for Izzy: Grall seemed completely exhausted while she was doing all the work. He yanked on her reins and led her along a track, but to Izzy’s great shock, Grall had forgotten that this was also a popular route to school. Izzy raced across the junction, only to hear Grunhilda laughing loudly behind her. Damn! “Crap,” grumbled Grall. “But I’m sure she didn’t recognise you. You’re much too fast! Just forget about her!” He steered Izzy into the forest and led her through the countryside to her house. Izzy came to a halt in front of it, her soles burning. Grall immediately took her gear from her while her father threw her a shirt and a pair of trousers. Izzy ripped the bells off her nipples and threw them straight onto the rubbish heap. “Neglecting school wasn’t part of the deal,” her father murmured, and Izzy nodded. “That’s Grall’s fault, he’ll explain it to you!” She got into her trousers and, to her great shock, it was only then that she felt the ponytail that was still stuck up her bum. She turned bright red and disappeared behind the house before returning with her trousers on. “Grall, we’ll talk about that later!” “Don’t worry, your own will fit you better” Izzy grabbed him by the collar. “Forget that quickly! That’s it, I’m not your ponygirl any more. Tell the goblins what you want, but I’m out.” Matheus scratched his chin. “Did you find out what you wanted? Did you get close to your mother?” Izzy closed her eyes briefly. “More than I wanted. It was very intense, but I’ve had enough. For a lifetime.” She picked up her school things and ran off. She gave every child a wide berth and arrived at the small school just as the bell rang. Mrs Flinchel stood at the front door and tapped her pocket watch. “Late on the very first day, that’s what we like! You all always want to be so grown-up, then behave like it!” “That won’t happen again,” said Izzy and was startled when Mrs Flinchel slapped her on the bottom as she walked in. She had never done that before! The pupils stared at her — Grunhilda in particular grinned and whinnied softly as Izzy sat down. So they had recognised her after all. Izzy buried her face in one of the schoolbooks and didn’t look over it again until the first break. It was awful, what was she supposed to do now? Although the other students had probably guessed it beforehand — and a few of the goblins certainly hadn’t been able to keep their green flaps shut — now they had actually seen her doing it. During the break in the courtyard, Izzy kept to herself as usual, but the sight of her table for the next lesson made her heart freeze. There were oats all over the table — exactly the kind you would give a ponygirl. To make matters worse, there was a large bag of them on her chair. “Take your food away from there,” ordered Mrs Flinchel after she had called everyone back into the classroom. “It’s not mine!” barked Izzy. “It’s hardly likely to be from one of the students. Come on, let’s get this class started.” Izzy carried the bag out of the classroom to the laughter of the other students; they were all the same age as Izzy, yet they were behaving terribly childishly. It was humiliating, but as she was soon to realise, the problems didn’t stop there. — After school, Izzy fell into her bed, exhausted and humiliated. The others had been making fun of her all day and it was clear that this was not going to end any time soon. It was all Grall’s fault; if he hadn’t ridden past the other students with her, it certainly wouldn’t have happened! She took off her dress and was about to pull the covers over her head when she noticed something on her arms. There was a strange mark on both forearms, the silhouette of a ponygirl, and she guessed where it had come from. She jumped out of bed, ran naked out of the door and grabbed the saddle that Grall had left behind. Indeed! There were symbols right where her arms had been tied. The saddle must have been pressing the mould into her skin for days, and now they weren’t fading even after hours. She examined the saddle more closely and her heart stopped at the sight of more stamps. Just above her bottom — where the saddle pressed past her arms — was Grall’s personal mark, which had also been painted on her bum, and a word that made Izzy want to explode: Buttercup! She felt over her back and could feel the mark and her name with her fingers. “That bastard!” she hissed so loudly that her father stuck his head out of the window. “What’s wrong, do you want me to saddle you?” he asked, confused. “Have you looked at the saddle? It has my name on it. That’s my saddle!” “I know that, Grall had it made for you.” “No, I mean he made it for me BEFORE I became his ponygirl. It was always my saddle! He had a saddle for me, even though I never wanted to wear one.” She slumped against the house. “Were we ever even friends, or was I always just an animal to him?” Matheus put a blanket over his daughter’s shoulder. “Goblins and humans have a difficult relationship. Especially when it comes to ponygirls. I’m sure he’s always been an honest friend to you, but there’s probably no denying that he’s always wanted a ponygirl of his own — you. How was your day at school?” Izzy only reported the good things, she was too embarrassed to talk about the other things. “You’ll be graduating soon, then the whole world will be open to you.” “Or I’ll become a ponygirl,” she said sarcastically. “Grall has already planned it all.” “You think too badly of him. Besides, it’s not a bad thing from his perspective. Remember, he’d even make it official. But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Go to school tomorrow and we’ll see.” Izzy nodded. School wasn’t her favourite place at the moment, but at least it was better than sitting here in the dirt. If she wanted a future, she had to study, and she needed a degree; otherwise she really might end up with a real brand on her butt and a registration number on her breasts. She went to bed, but she couldn’t sleep that night. But even worse, she was missing something — something she would never admit to missing. She had only worn the ponytail for a few hours and a short ride, but it was already dominating her thoughts. It was as if he had left a void inside her, and now she wondered if that feeling would ever go away. — The next day greeted Izzy with its warm rays of sunshine through the open window. A little squirrel perched on the windowsill and watched the sleeping girl before her father woke her with a loud knock on the door. “Come on, get up. You don’t want to be late again, do you?” he asked, yawning tiredly himself. Like every day, he had been up for two hours tending to the farm. Life in the country didn’t allow for late sleepers, and Izzy had had to help often enough. “Just one more hour, please,” Izzy grumbled, but her father shook his head. “Get up. Go!” His voice had taken on a commanding tone that Izzy knew only too well. There was no point in arguing. “You’re worse than the grooms…” Izzy slipped into some clean clothes and threw on a light summer dress with long sleeves so no one would notice the imprints from the saddle. Her teeth were quickly brushed — strange, she thought, it was rarely done on ponygirls. “I wonder if there was something in the feed that protected the teeth?” She took her school things and ran out. It was a beautiful day, the sun was warming her skin and the leaves on the trees were a bright-green colour. If only it wasn’t for school… Goosebumps were running down her spine. Hopefully, the others were getting bored, or she was in for a bad few months. She avoided the most common routes to school and reached the building just in time. Mrs Flinchel was standing at the door, waving the pupils in. “There’s Isabel,” said one girl, giggling. “What’s she still doing here?” “Mrs Flinchel,” Grunhilda chortled in a honeyed voice. “What do you actually do when you find a lost animal?” Mrs Flinchel ignored her: “Inside, we still have a lot to learn today. It’s a special day.“ The way she emphasised the special made Izzy shudder. The first lesson was reading and writing, which Izzy would have happily done without. While reading was still possible, writing was too repetitive — grammar often just didn’t make any sense; the rules seemed random and based purely on the gut feeling of some old monk who had decided on a windy Sunday hundreds of years ago that you had to put a comma right there, even if all the other rules said otherwise. And she didn’t even want to start on the strange spelling of some of the words — she didn’t even want to imagine what nasty goblin had come up with this nonsense. But at least the other pupils had to listen closely, so they didn’t have enough time to get into trouble again. After the break, there were some oats on her table again, but Izzy swept them down carelessly and sat down in her chair without a word. She was determined not to give anyone the satisfaction of responding to this nonsense. The next few hours continued as before and Izzy thought she would get through the day — apart from Grunhilda’s comment and the oats — without too much trouble. But at the beginning of the last lesson, Mrs Flinchel gave her a strange glare that didn’t bode well. She knew her teacher well and was aware of her strict and often even unfair attitude, but this was a particularly bad sign. “For the last lesson today, I have invited a guest. Due to some unusual developments, it seemed appropriate that you all learn a little more about the traditions of our neighbours — the goblins.” She looked Izzy straight in the eye, who could hardly get any smaller in her chair. So this humiliation wasn’t over after all. The other students laughed quietly, Bastian in particular — who was sitting in a corner at the back — was having a great time. That hit Izzy the hardest, but what else did she expect? The teacher opened the door and invited an ancient goblin into the room, pulling a wheelbarrow of old ponygirl stuff behind him into the classroom. “This is Mr Werdox, and he’s going to give us a demonstration on ponygirls today. As you’ve all seen many times, goblins ride these animals. In the past, this was a big point of contention between our species, but today there is peace — partly because we know the clear difference between a girl and a ponygirl.” Mrs Flinchel smiled at Izzy, who buried her face in her hands. Please let this day pass quickly, Izzy thought, but the lesson was only just beginning. “Thank you, Mrs Flinchel,” boomed the goblin. “I’d best show you how to saddle a ponygirl first. Is there a volunteer?” “Izzy will do it!” shouted Grunhilda. “Shut up, I’m not doing anything!” snapped Izzy back. Mrs Flinchel hissed reprovingly. “Watch your language in my classroom! Isabel, come to the front!” “But why me?” whined Izzy. “Why not you? It would be far too humiliating for all the other girls here. Now come here or you’ll be expelled from school.” Izzy swallowed. She had a good idea where this lesson was going, but what choice did she have? She stood up shakily and walked with weak knees to Mr Werdox, who smiled kindly at her. He nodded. “You’ve got a good physique for a ponygirl, this will work well.” The praise made Izzy blush, and the class could hardly contain their laughter. Only a loud admonition from Mrs Flinchel brought some calm to the excited pack. “Please be so good as to take off your dress.” Izzy almost died of embarrassment as she lifted her dress over her head in front of the others. Although she still had her underwear left, it wasn’t enough to stop her feeling almost naked. It was strange, but even as a ponygirl, clad only in a few straps, she had never felt so observed. But unlike usual, she knew the people in this room — besides, the social rules for humans and ponygirls were entirely different. Here she was a human, at least for now, and felt the piercing glances of the other students on her. “Oh, how exciting. You’ve already been ridden, I’d recognise the signs of a saddle anywhere. I recognise the symbol there too, so you’re a ponygirl from Oozol’s son Grall. Wonderful boy, we all feared he would never find a horse.” These words were enough to drive the class completely mad for a whole five minutes. Even Mrs Flinchel was lying on her desk laughing. Izzy could only stand there and wait for it to finally continue — or until she found the courage to simply walk out of the room. But what was the point, she had already gone this far, what else would happen. And besides, her schooling was more important than any shame. “So you really are his little mare,” Grunhilda mocked. Another girl grunted with laughter. “Do you sleep in his stable too?” The old goblin didn’t seem to understand the uproar, but he waited patiently until he could continue. “For a good ponygirl, a saddle that fits is important. You’re a bit too big, but it has to work. Tack!” Izzy immediately went down on her knees, which sent the class into an uproar again. She closed her eyes and wished herself somewhere else, but nothing happened. The goblin hoisted the saddle onto her back, where Izzy had already crossed her arms. Practice was practice. Unlike her own saddle, this one was a poor fit. It pinched and pressed everywhere, and the material was rough and brittle — and Izzy realised how high quality her saddle was, and could only guess at the sums Grall had spent to keep her, and therefore his horse, comfortable. Grunhilda scoffed: “Is the saddle comfortable?” A fire flared up inside Izzy. “No, mine is more comfortable! But wait until I’ve got the pony boots on, then I can give you a good kick up the ass!” The class was silent for a moment before the usual laughter rang through the room. “Please, that’s unnecessary,” pleaded the old goblin. “I have a solution for that.” He took the bridle and put it over Izzy’s head, fastening an old, hard wooden horse bit into Izzy’s mouth. He was right, at least Izzy wouldn’t be able to object now, and from his standpoint, that was all that mattered with a horse. Mrs Flinchel nodded. “We probably should have done this earlier. She never had anything important to say anyway.” Next came the pony boots and, much to her annoyance, he tied her legs together too — he didn’t want to take any risks. “She sounds like a real horse,” shouted a boy as the clop-clop-clop of hooves rang through the room. “Are they finished with that?” “Almost!” The goblin took something else out of the box. The class was amazed. Izzy turned round and, to her great shock, saw a ponytail on a large plug. It was even bigger than the one at the party and would surely split her in two. She whimpered softly. “Not every ponygirl has a ponytail, but I’m sure our… what’s her name?” “Buttercup,” Mrs Flinchel replied, confirming Izzy’s worst fears. “Anyway, I’m sure our Buttercup here has had a ponytail or two in her bum. I’ll show you how to insert it now.” So far, Izzy had at least been allowed to keep her underwear on — although some of the boys had loudly pleaded for a better view — but now the goblin was cutting the thin fabric with his claws, which he carelessly threw to the floor. “She even has a tax tag!” yelled one of the girls, who was probably more familiar with ponygirls than Izzy. “What an animal!” Werdox smeared something slippery on the plug and guided it to Izzy’s bum. “It’s important that you always push hard against it. You also have to twist the plug a little so that it slides in more easily. Watch carefully.” The boys especially liked doing this, even if they hadn’t usually praised Izzy for her looks; but a naked girl was probably a naked girl, Izzy thought. She could feel the plug against her bum, pressing harder and harder against her entrance. She tried to resist, but it was no use, the wood was stronger and slowly she opened up against her will. It was too late to escape, also thanks to the restraints, and she no longer had her reputation to lose anyway. The plug pushed harder and harder, stretching her beyond anything she had known before; then there was a pop and the plug sank into her bum. It was that strange, warm feeling again that the first ponytail had already given her. “She likes it,” shouted a boy, and he was probably right. Fortunately, the strap of the saddle protected the rest of her from any prying eyes. “That was easy, she must have had bigger ponytails up her arse. “That’s quite possible,” confirmed the goblin, who had probably missed the obvious insult. He seemed to have completely misjudged the situation. “You must be proud of your classmate. An excellent ponygirl, she’s her rider’s pride and joy. A ponytail is one of the unmistakable signs of whether you have a ponygirl or a human woman in front of you. For a ponygirl it’s a kind of reward, but a woman wouldn’t put up with something like that.” “I can promise you that,” scoffed Mrs Flinchel. “But we’re not here to admire Isabel’s secret passion, we’re here to learn something. Class, tell me, what makes a ponygirl?” “The saddle!” said a boy. “The horse bit, and the reins!” shouted a girl. “No, the registration number!” shouted someone else. Mrs Flinchel shook her head vigorously. “Not at all, what does the animal itself matter!” The class fell silent for a moment, then a girl raised her hand. “She’s submissive?” A boy shouted, “Rough!” and that broke the dam. “Stupid!”, “Simple-minded”, “That’s the same thing!”, “Housebroken”… Izzy’s head was buzzing. How had they gone from the first humiliation to complete annihilation? There was no stopping the class, hardly an adjective was even remotely kind. Izzy had to endure it all while standing tied up next to the blackboard. Mrs Flinchel hurriedly took notes. “She’s not human,” Bastian finally said, which finally broke Izzy’s heart. “But not at all! Ponygirls have countless good qualities,” Mr Werdox stammered, but no one listened to him. “Enough of this. This demonstration is over for today. Mr Werdox, please take the horse outside and tie it to the tree.” Her broad grin almost split her face in two. “And you, Isabel, don’t need to come back here. This school can’t teach you anything you can’t learn better with a horse bit and whip from your goblin master. You are hereby expelled from the school!” “It almost makes you envious… No more school,” Bastian mused aloud. Mrs Flinchel grimaced. “Anyone who wants to follow Buttercup is welcome to do so. You’re all grown up, do what you think is right. But you won’t get a proper degree in a stable… anyone want to join the ponygirl?” All the students shook their heads. Mr Werdox handed Izzy, who was trembling and close to tears, a treat on the flat of his hand, and despite the giggling class, she ate it gratefully from his palm. He stroked her flank and legs to calm her down a little and led her out. “Humans have a hard time accepting something they don’t understand. We goblins know all about it; the great war taught us many things. Come on, I’ll ride you home. Your owner will know what to do.” Izzy got down on her knees and let the goblin mount, now nothing mattered anyway. Not even the reference to her owner bothered her any more — was it far from reality anyway? He gave her a light kick and rode her gently and kindly from the yard under the gaze of the class. The crop As Izzy quickly realised, Werdox was a kind and cautious rider. His interventions were calm, level-headed, and never stronger than absolutely necessary. The old goblin could be accused of stupidity, but at least he wasn’t cruel. But that hardly reassured her; after all, a stranger was still sitting on her back and using her as nothing more than a horse — and she was at his mercy like any other ponygirl. An animal that only served to be useful to its rider. And to make matters worse, she had come a good deal closer to a future as such — after a few goblins had already seen her as a ponygirl, she had now even been seen in this degrading form by people close to her. She had even been observed being saddled and fitted with a horse bit; she had not even been spared the ponytail. It was a deep humiliation that would probably not remain without consequences. She was deep in thought, blindly following the instructions of the reins by habit by now, and was standing in Oozol’s yard before she even realised it. Of course, Izzy thought bitterly, where else would a goblin take a horse if not to the stable where it belonged. For Werdox, the school must have been the exception, and not Oozol’s farm, to which she clearly belonged for Werdox thanks to Grall’s markings. A groom promptly appeared and helped the old goblin — after a snappy tack! — out of the saddle. “What’s going on, why isn’t she at school?” asked Grall, who had stormed out of the house, confused. Werdox seemed surprised by the question. “They didn’t want her there any more. But a school isn’t a good place for a ponygirl anyway. Especially not such a gorgeous one.” He patted Izzy’s shoulder in praise, but she wasn’t receptive to it today. Grall took the bit out of Izzy’s mouth. “Tell me what happened.” Izzy did, and Grall’s eyes narrowed with every word. He turned to Werdox, who looked at him uncertainly. “This is your fault! You old fool, why did you do this?” The old goblin was visibly overwhelmed and stammered. “But… she’s a horse! And the teacher wanted a demonstration… I didn’t mean any harm!” Grall wasn’t satisfied. “It was meant to be a secret from the humans. Haven’t you thought about it?” “Nobody told me -” Werdox began, before Izzy interrupted him. “Don’t act so pretentious, Grall; as if he was the only one not thinking something through…” Izzy grumbled. “You presented me to your friends first. And if you hadn’t ridden me onto the big road, we wouldn’t have been seen at all! Damn it, it was your fault we were late in the first place!” Grall got a little smaller, as if the air had been let out of him. “You’re right, that was stupid of me. But that doesn’t give your teacher the right to treat you like that. When we’re done here, I’ll go and complain about Mrs Flinchel! We goblins have no power over these people, but my father still has some influence. Nobody tricks a friend of mine just like that!” Izzy snorted angrily. “Oh, is that so? Then you can surely explain why you had a saddle for me long before you were allowed to put it on me.” A bright fire burned in her eyes, and Grall took a few steps back. Izzy must have been a mountain of muscle on the verge of exploding in his eyes. Even some of the grooms were putting down their work and getting ready to calm that wild horse. Izzy’s eyes twitched to the side, and she realised that despite their long experience, many of them were quite mindful of her presence. Strangely enough, that was a quite good feeling for her. “Did it leave you speechless?” Grall swallowed and his hands plucked restlessly at his clothes. Gotcha, Izzy thought, even if she didn’t enjoy it. He was still important to her, but there was a good chance that this would be the end of their friendship. “You’d better have a good explanation, or I’m walking off the farm and never coming back!” Grall understood; he swallowed, nervously wiped a few stones away with his feet and began to speak quietly: “It was just an idea; my father always talked about me choosing a ponygirl… but I didn’t want to, also because we are friends. How could I ride a girl when you were there? But somehow — deep down inside — I was probably hoping that you would become my ponygirl one day.” His gaze was fixed on his feet. “One day I was supposed to order saddles for my father; it was from one of the best saddlers on the island, and I had a lot of time to look at his craftsmanship. The fine leather, the perfect stitching, the curved shapes and the firm straps. They were perfect, something you’d give a ponygirl as a gift if you really cared. But my father had given me too much money, and as luck would have it, there was enough for another saddle — thinking about it, it was a bit suspicious. But as it is, I then had another saddle made — just for you. It was simple, but still of good quality. It was just for fun, I just wanted to tease you a bit. But when I held it in my hands, I knew I couldn’t do it. You were and are too important to me for a joke like that. So I put it in the stable, where it stayed until you got too big for it; you grew up awfully fast.” He chuckled lightly and Izzy nodded too. Her growth spurts had almost driven her father to despair too; in the end, better turnip sacks were almost the only solution, but they also brought with them some ridicule and scorn. On those days, Grall was often her only comfort — and only friend. Now it was strange to know that the most expensive clothing for her at that time was a saddle, which Grall hid in a stable. “I looked at the saddle a lot, and later bought a new one. It was just a daft idea, but it made me happy somehow. Then you got too big again and I bought another one. Each one was pricier and better than the last, and I always wanted to show it to you — but I never dared. Your current one is the fourth saddle, the best of all, for the best friend in the world.” But if Grall had hoped that these words would appease Izzy, he was mistaken. “You mean for the best horse…” Her gaze hadn’t softened. Her head was burning, but in a strange way, so was the rest of her body. The thought that her friend had a saddle for her all this time, and secretly thought of her that way, should have shaken her beyond belief, and yet it made her feel warm more than anything. Was it just the tail that irritated her with every step? Or was there more to it? “Don’t flatter me. Why does it fit me so well, if you only commissioned it?” “Because I just know you well,” he said, grinning sheepishly. “Everything about you. You’re just important to me.” Izzy snorted. “Our neighbours care about their dog too, but he’s still just their pet. And I’m probably yours. You’ve even marked me already.” She turned round and showed the marks on her arms and back. “What do you have to say to that?” She had expected at least some shame from him, but he just smiled and bit his lower lip. “It was just part of the saddle. But it does make me proud to see you sporting it.” “You could at least have asked me!” She took a quick step forwards and the grooms did the same. One more move and they would probably be all over her. Let them, thought Izzy, today I decide! “I just hadn’t thought about it,” said Grall, raising his hands apologetically. “But what’s the big deal? The marks will disappear again. It’s just part of our culture. You humans always say you’re tolerant.” Izzy looked at him menacingly. “Don’t you dare portray yourself as a victim here! You’ve always been able to tell me everything, but I have the right to decide for myself. Why do you care so much about riding me?” Werdox ventured forward slightly. That seemed unusually bold for a man like him to Izzy, but she had no intention of hurting him anyway. “Good…girl, that’s what you’re made for…isn’t it?” There was no doubt in his last word, but real fear. Again, Izzy realised how big the difference was between a human and a goblin. It was no wonder the greenlings trained the ponygirls so much — an uncontrolled pony was a considerable danger to any goblin. But Izzy was in no mood for such talk. “Shut up, just because Grall isn’t innocent, didn’t mean they had to saddle me in front of the whole class. Why couldn’t they at least do without the ponytail!” She growled angrily, but turned her bottom away when Werdox tried to remove it. Before the argument could escalate any further, Oozol rode into the yard. He jumped elegantly out of the saddle and looked at the group in amazement. “What’s going on here? Why is everyone staring at my son and his horse? Get back to work, you’ll realise when there’s something to do here!” The grooms immediately dispersed again and Izzy also felt the words take some of the wind out of her sails. The goblins’ fear had given her a boost, but there was no sign of it in Oozol. His gaze was like a cold bucket of water over her head. Grall hurriedly reported what had happened, then Oozol nodded. “Dear Werdox, you are truly the cleverest fool on this island. How could you believe that humans would want to know about our traditions?” He raised his hand and silenced Werdox before he had even opened his mouth. “That wasn’t a question. Now go away before I pull your ears out. Just because you’re older doesn’t mean I won’t still treat you like the naïve boy you obviously are in your head!” “I am truly sorry. I obviously misjudged the situation. The humans and us goblins are probably still a long way apart. But I’ll tell you one thing, good girl: A few of your classmates would make good horses.” He winked and hurriedly ran from the yard before he was thrown out. Izzy grinned slightly. “Now for you,” Oozol said, looking Izzy seriously in the eye. “Shall we take you to your father?” This question came as a surprise to Izzy; she hadn’t even thought about it in all this time, but Oozol gave her some time to think. “I’m sure he’ll be disappointed when he hears about me not getting a degree.” “Then stay with us for a while. I’ll send a messenger to your father to excuse you. Good, then that’s settled. Grall, we have some chores to do too, you can play with Buttercup later.” He waved a couple of grooms over to take Izzy for a wash. They looked nervous and, to Izzy’s annoyance, the horse bit was put back in her mouth. But as Oozol had also called her Buttercup, this was to be expected. She was a horse on this farm, there was no doubt about that by now. If she wanted to be a human — then this was not the place for it. — Grall stayed busy until nightfall; obviously Oozol didn’t want him to go to Izzy that day either. She saw through the stable door, which was open at the top, how the light in his room faded, then it was dark and quiet everywhere in the yard. That left plenty of time for a lost girl to find her favourite dark spot in the stable and stare at the ceiling with heavy thoughts in her head. Of course, her arms had been tied behind her back again and a horse bit had been stuck in her mouth; even her ponytail was still in her bum — although that may have been because she had always playfully turned away when the groom tried to pull it out. Even a horse was allowed to have some fun in the evening, thought Izzy and grinned sheepishly. She would never have dared to do something like that before, but life as a horse was relieving in its own ways — as restrictive as it was, you could get away with a few things that were unthinkable for a human. Nevertheless, she now had to think about what her future would look like. But whatever she did, in the end she always found herself back in this stable as a horse. This place was like a magnet, exerting an invisible force on her. Maybe it was fate, or maybe it was just in her blood… or… she brushed the thought aside angrily. It simply couldn’t be that she herself wanted it that way. That simply wasn’t true! She shook her head. No, she thought, it was just coincidence and a friend who would like to have a horse. She was deep in thought when footsteps sounded outside the door. Izzy lifted her head at the soft squeak of the stable door. It was Grall; he had a blanket with him, which he carefully spread out in the centre of the stable. The little goblin sneaked silently to Izzy, released her arms and took the horse bit from her mouth, but before she could say anything, he pressed a finger to her lips. He lay down on the blanket and patted the space next to him. Izzy gladly accepted the invitation; perhaps not everything had broken between them after all. She hoped so because she could hardly imagine life without Grall. They had known each other practically since birth, and hardly a day went by without them exploring the world together. Strange how quickly things could change, she thought. The two of them fell asleep quickly, but Izzy woke up after a short, wild dream with a light weight on her breasts. She opened her eyes sleepily and found Grall in her arms, lying on her breasts like a small child. She must have cradled the sleeping goblin in her arms like a stuffed animal during the night because she would surely have noticed if he had climbed on top of her. She looked at the sleeping greenling thoughtfully as she felt his heartbeat. It was a fast drumming rhythm in a 6 beat, which was typical of goblins. He was so small and vulnerable, almost like a child, and yet already an adult. She kissed him on the forehead, hugged him a little tighter, and sank into a dreamless sleep. — The next morning, Izzy leaned over the door of her stable and watched the hustle and bustle of the large yard with a blank expression. Grall had woken up before her and — probably so as not to wake her — had quietly slipped out of the stable. The trainers were practising walking with saddles with some of the newest ponygirls, while other horses were being harnessed to a cart. She sighed. This farm was really becoming her home more and more. Where else would she go without a degree? She had a room with her father, but he wouldn’t be able to feed her forever. The stable was at least a retreat — even if it came with a price called saddle. “Hope you slept well,” Grall called as he hobbled across the yard, and Izzy made way for him to open the door. “Are you still angry with me?” he asked as he carefully closed the door behind him and spread the straw again with his foot. It was one of those little gestures that got on Izzy’s nerves — why would he distribute the straw if he didn’t think she needed it… She snorted. “How could I not? Look at me, I’m a horse! In your stable — heck, in my stable!” “You can always go home if you want. But I don’t want to lie to you — I like having you here with me.” Izzy snorted again, but said nothing. “I’m deeply sorry about the saddle, I should have told you the truth. But how do you tell your best friend that you want to ride her half-naked through the forest? How do you start a conversation like that?” Izzy smiled slightly, she would have liked to see him try, knowing full well that she would have ripped his head off. It was hard to believe how much their relationship had changed. They used to be eye to eye, despite their size difference, and now it was usually the smaller one who set the tone. But in moments like these, everything seemed normal again — apart from the fact that she had her arms behind her back and could be saddled up as an animal for a ride in a matter of minutes; even against her will, as happened to other horses all the time. “Thank you for being a better friend than I am a friend to you,” Grall said with a pale, wet gleam in his eye. “What can I do to make you feel better?” “You could untie me.” But to her surprise, he didn’t. “Most grooms are a bit scared of you. You’re strong, and unlike the other horses, you’re not trained. Not properly, anyway. Most horses fear goblins — I don’t need to explain why. But you are… a strong girl. They told my father they won’t work if you’re not secured.” “They’re really that scared of me?” asked Izzy, irritated. She had seen the grooms’ reaction, but thought it was just the unusual situation. “Let’s call it respect.” He winked. “Sorry, but if you want to stay, you’ll have to be secured like any other horse. The only thing we can probably do without is the horse bit. Although it looks good on you!” Izzy rolled her eyes. “Oh, how generous. Good, whatever. But I’m going crazy here in the stable, I have to get out of here.” “I’ll get your saddle,” Grall squealed a little too happily, but Izzy stopped her friend abruptly. “Forget it. Can’t we do anything else without you riding me?” asked Izzy snappishly. “Yes, but I won’t get far with my leg. I can’t do more than a walk around the farm.” Izzy nodded dumbly. “Good, I just need to get something. Shall I take your ponytail out first?” “No!” she said a little too quickly and turned away from him. “I mean… it’s easier if it stays in, isn’t it?” Grall smiled cheekily. “Good, but you shouldn’t always wear it overnight in the future.” After a few minutes, he returned with a leash and collar. He looked at her sheepishly, but after a short sigh, she leaned forward and let him put both on. Her hands remained tied behind her back. “If you want, I can take you to your father at any time, but your arms must remain tied in the yard” The sun outside the stable was wonderful, the light breeze tickled Izzy between the legs and ruffled her mane. She felt almost free, apart from the fact that her best friend was walking her like a dog on a leash. In a strange way, this was more humiliating than life as a ponygirl — saddle, horse bit and reins were completely normal for humans on this farm, whereas this walk made her an oddity here. This was also because, unlike ponygirls, she was having a relaxed conversation with Grall. All eyes were on the unusual couple taking their walk across the courtyard, talking about the weather, the birds and some nice ruins in the forest. Everything was normal except the situation; the leash, Izzy’s slightly bent posture and the naturalness with which Grall led her behind him. It was a stark and profound contrast to the topics of conversation, and no one in the yard failed to notice. For a brief moment, Izzy almost wished she was back in the stable — only to bite her tongue just before she found the courage to ask for a horse bit. The pressure to be normal was great, even if that normality was the life of a ponygirl. Her mind wandered as Grall went on. Had her mum felt the same way when her life as a ponygirl was taken from her? Had she longed for life as a ponygirl, or did she just want to be normal again — as normal as she knew it? Izzy continued to feel the stares of the others on her, and something else dawned on her. She stopped and squeezed her legs together. “What’s wrong?” asked Grall, who was engrossed in his monologue. “Don’t ask such stupid questions, you trained me!” The little goblin winked. He led her for a walk to a tree and to her relief, he didn’t hesitate with the “Rhida Kess”. Obviously, he thought that she was already a well-behaved animal in that respect. Since she was bareback, as nature had made her, he didn’t have to undo any straps. Peeing in the yard was nothing unusual for Izzy by now, but in this case, it felt different. She wasn’t his pony, she was his friend on a leash — and that made it almost as bad as the first day. She blushed, and some of the other horses giggled. They did a few more short laps, then Izzy was back in the stable. A wave of relief washed over her after the door closed behind her. “Are you sure we don’t want to go for a ride?” he asked cautiously. “So that more people see me?” “Once your reputation is ruined, you can ride it without shame, right?” he sneered, but Izzy didn’t smile. “Are you going to sit in the stables all day? That’s nothing for a…” He stopped in time before he finished the sentence. “I mean, that must be boring for you. Wait, I have a surprise. Think about it until then, I’ll be right back.” — As promised, Grall returned to her stable half an hour later, but Izzy’s eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw him. “Someone must have put your head on your neck the wrong way around!” she barked at him as Grall ran up to her in his finest riding gear. He had never worn special riding clothes before, and it reminded Izzy even more which of them was the rider and which was the horse. He was wearing a solid brown shirt with his mark embroidered on it — which was also painted on Izzy’s bum — and sturdy breeches, as well as dark riding boots that shone in the sun. Izzy gave him an annoyed look, especially as his outfit included two other things that made her blood boil. “Do you own another ponygirl, or do you really think you’re allowed to use that nonsense on me?” Her furious gaze fell on a riding crop on his belt and impressive spurs on his shoes. It took her a few seconds before she realised what she had just said… do you own ANOTHER ponygirl… she shuddered and hoped he hadn’t noticed. He looked at her apologetically. “These are part of the set, my father commissioned it for me — he says a rider should never look worse than his horse. What do you think, do I look good?” Izzy just grumbled, but she couldn’t help a little nod. As much as it bothered her, the clothes suited him well. No doubt he would look good in them on his ponygirl — which would be her. “You’ve got your own riding gear too, now we finally fit together. I didn’t want the whip, but my father says that sometimes you have to put a horse on the right track.” Grall scratched his neck, embarrassed. “Your father said that about me?” Izzy frowned. “I guess it was just generalised. He likes you a lot, but… when I ride you, you’re a ponygirl to him. You know that.” “It doesn’t matter, I don’t want to go riding any more. It’s only got me in trouble. Besides, it’s too boring for me, I can’t even talk because of the horse bit!” “Then let’s just leave it out. Wait, I’ve got something else for you.” Only now did Izzy realise that his riding gear wasn’t the real surprise. Instead, he took a golden coin out of his pocket, which must surely be very valuable. But it wasn’t the nominal value of the coin that interested Izzy, it was the minting. The coin must have come from a goblin kingdom, as a goblin rider and his horse could be seen on the reverse. The stamping was of the highest quality and the coin looked almost new — apart from two small teeth marks on the edge. “Why are you showing me this?” Izzy asked, but her heart was beating faster. She had an inkling of what it was, but she needed to hear it from him. “My father found the coin by chance. We’re sure it’s your mum and her prince. Look how much the horse looks like you.” And the rider like you, Izzy thought, her breath stopping for a moment. There were no pictures of her mum, but there was one right there. Pressed in gold for all eternity. “I’ll put it in your saddlebag and you’ll always have it with you when you go riding. That’s good, isn’t it? What’s wrong, why don’t you say something? We could go for a short ride, then you can think a bit.” Izzy took some time to think about it. That coin seemed like a nudge from times past, but Izzy wasn’t sure if she had needed that nudge at all to agree to go again. Despite the dangers that came with every ride and her outward reluctance, she was almost magically drawn under the saddle — she could hardly deny that it must be more than just coincidence if a girl ended up with a horse bit in her mouth as often as she did. Sure, she thought, Grall had a big part in it too, but her mother’s influence on her seemed almost overwhelming. “You’re not going to use the spore, are you?” she finally said. It felt like a defeat, even though she had decided on it herself. Why was it so difficult for her to just say no? “Actually, they’re a good idea. You’ve already got bruises from all the kicking,” he pointed to a few places where his feet had often hit her, “and they don’t hurt at all. Unless I kick properly, but that’s certainly never necessary.” “Then at least leave the crop behind.” Grall fidgeted. “Or we could give it a try… ?” Izzy jumped up and almost knocked him over. “You’re crazy, my bottom still has red welts from the branch. And it also hurt terribly. Give me the crop and I’ll show you what it feels like!” “Wait!” he squealed and jumped back a few steps. “That with Kreks was terrible, but this is different. The branch was rough and far too thin. The crop whip won’t leave a mark. I promise.” He showed her the crop, which she examined with a harsh look. “So she’s just stroking me gently?” The sarcastic undertone was unmistakable. “No, it hurts — otherwise it would be pointless — but it doesn’t leave any marks.” “Oh, that’s good then. If my best friend’s whip only hurts like hell but leaves no marks, then of course you can whip me half-naked in the forest.” Unfortunately for her, the heat between her legs returned; Grall also turned away, embarrassed. She hastily deflected. “I’m not in the mood for that now. Forget it!” “Come on, you were much faster than usual with that branch, even Kreks was impressed. Besides, it’s quite normal for a ponygirl — I’m sure I can get you to ride even faster with the crop and spurs.” “Why should I care?” “Because you still want to know how your mother felt, am I right? Besides, you’re curious to find out what you’re made of. The humans think you’re bad because you’re not like them, but together I can show you what you can do as a ponygirl. I can tell by the tip of your nose that you want to know too. Your mum was supposedly the fastest in her stable. I bet you’re faster. And you can be proud of that.” “I am fast,” she replied defiantly, thinking curiously of the coin. The prince’s whip had been clearly visible. “But why do I need you for that? I can run fast on my own.” “But not as fast as with the riding crop!” “You’d lose that bet. She realised exactly where he was trying to push her, but unfortunately for her, he pressed all the right buttons. It was never good when a friend knew you too well. “We won’t know until we try it out. What have you got to lose but a bit of pride?” Izzy’s eyes burned like fire. Grall looked at her challengingly. She knew very well that she was right, but perhaps it was time to show Grall that she didn’t need a rider. “Fine, but only once! Then you’ll see that I can manage just fine without you. And we’ll go somewhere where no people will see us!” As all the grooms were busy, Grall fetched her things himself. First, he put the saddle on her back; he looked into her eyes as he ran the strap between her legs, not missing the opportunity to run his fingers through her ponytail. With a pen, he once again drew her false registration number on her breasts — just in case, he assured her. The pony boots and bridle followed, but without the horse bit and reins; he nevertheless put the horse bit in a saddlebag. He did without the bells, which otherwise would have cost him his life that morning. “Crap, I forgot something. Wait a minute,” he said, shouting a loud “Zhrak!” as he ran, at which Izzy dropped to her knees and bowed her head as if of her own accord. She waited for him to return until she remembered that there was no reason to obey him like that! They weren’t in goblin country… she didn’t have to obey him here — and yet, she had done so, like a well-behaved mare waiting for her owner. She shuddered. Before she could get up, he was already standing in front of her, beaming, with a bag from which he took a new surprise. “A ponytail, just for you. You already have one from Werdox, but it doesn’t suit your mane. So I had a new one made.” Izzy’s gaze pierced Grall like a harpoon. “Well, the truth is… I had it done months ago. Don’t be angry with me. Come on, I’ll put it in you.” Izzy looked uncertainly at the new ponytail. The colour matched her hair perfectly, but the plug was even bigger than the previous ponytails. She was sure it would never fit inside her — although she had thought the same about the others before. “You’ll look like a queen with this. Or a queen’s horse,” he said, pulling gently on the old tail. Izzy whimpered and finally, her bum gave way and the plug slipped out. Grall threw it carelessly into a corner. “Get on your knees, please, it’ll be easier.” Izzy’s eyes glowed with shame, but she knelt down and laid her upper body in the straw so that her bum was pointing upwards. It was the perfect height for Grall to admire everything about her. What a strange development, Izzy thought as Grall pushed the large plug into her bum. Little more than a fortnight ago they were just best friends, sitting by the lake and talking about the world; now she was lying with her face in the straw and her butt up in the air while her goblin friend stuck a plug up her bum. Even though she knew exactly what had happened between those days, none of it made any sense. With a plop, the plug disappeared between her round buttocks and Grall playfully slapped her ass. He gave her a treat on his palm — which she ate greedily as always, having lost all shame by now. “Remember: only a goblin is allowed to remove your plug. If one of the other goblins sees that you’ve lost your tail, you’ll be in trouble. Tack!” Izzy nodded, Grall climbed into the saddle and tapped her with the spurs. She took off. It was true, the spurs didn’t hurt as much as they looked; still, it was humiliating. They passed Oozol’s house, who watched them both with interest. “You look good Buttercup, like a real ponygirl. And you, my son, are a very noble rider. You make a good team. But don’t be back too late.” He puffed his pipe. “Son, don’t be too generous with the crop, your animal isn’t used to it yet.” Izzy grumbled at the word animal, but in her situation a protest made no sense. Grall gave her the spurs again and they rode into the forest, past small rivers and under the crowns of mighty old trees. It was the kind of leisurely ride that Izzy knew well by now — and if she was honest, even enjoyed a little. Her ponygirl clothes were all comfortable, thanks to Grall, and her rider light as a feather; even the ponytail was a familiar companion by now, and not unwelcome to her — though she would never admit that openly. He turned with her onto a long, dusty, arrow-grace dirt track that would be ideal for their next attempt. The path seemed deserted, but they hadn’t gone five metres when they heard familiar voices from behind the trees. Izzy stopped so abruptly that Grall almost flew out of the saddle over her head. “What are you doing, inviting your friends?” She had almost forgotten that she didn’t have a horse bit in her mouth and hadn’t said anything out of habit. So much for a ride with a good conversation, she thought sarcastically. “No, it’s just a coincidence,” Grall replied. “That’s the truth, I didn’t know they were here today.” Maxi came running around the trees and waved to them. “Crap. They’ve seen us. Can I use the horse bit? They think I own you. Please!” Izzy rolled her eyes. So it was the same as always. Something happened, and then she was just a mount again — the whole world had conspired against her. But at least this was only about his friends, and they had already seen her as a horse. So it couldn’t get any worse. She sighed. “Just the attempt with the crop, no more, got it!” After Grall promised, she opened her mouth and accepted the horse bit. He gave her a little kiss on the forehead. She remembered too late that she had not yet spoken to him about his friends. Hopefully, he wouldn’t take it too far this time — but knowing Grall, she had to expect anything. Every so often, he was just a little too boastful. “Look who we have here,” Kreks said, leaning against a tree. Izzy’s heart sank into her stomach — she could have done without Kreks. Now and always. It was bad enough that she had allowed Grall to whip her like a common horse, but now there were witnesses to this terrible humiliation — and Kreks on top of that! And all because she wanted to prove to him that she was fast without him. “What are you up to, this isn’t just going to be a little ride, is it? The new tail looks good. Has your mare got used to it? Some take a while before they can walk properly with it.” “She’s a natural,” Grall replied, stroking Izzy’s head to her frustration. “You’ll see, it doesn’t bother her when she walks. In fact, I think she likes the tail a lot.” He chuckled as Izzy’s cheeks burned like fire. How dare he, just because she… she sighed. “I wanted to test how fast she is.” Mexi came forward. “Can we watch? Wait, I’ll mark the start and finish line for you. It’s best if you ride your horse round the tree back there and then come all the way back. I’m sure Buttercup is as fast as an arrow!” The girl patted Izzy’s thigh affectionately. Izzy pawed nervously with her hooves. She certainly didn’t want to lose to Grall, but even more, she didn’t want these goblins to think she was an easy horse to whip. But if she was honest, it was too late for that anyway. Kreks had already done it, and the others were only horrified because he’d overdone it, not because he’d done it at all — after all, those goblins were also responsible for the ponytail in her arse. She wiggled her bum back and forth, lost in thought, causing the tail to dangle between her legs and brush against her thighs. A shiver travelled up her spine. She neighed nervously and Grall stroked her head again, while Maxi stroked her bum tenderly and ran her fingers through the tail. “She’s already very excited. Are you sure Buttercup is ready for this?” Maxi asked anxiously. “You can still see a few welts from the branch.” She gave Kreks a reproachful look. “Absolutely!” replied Grall. “You’ll see, with the whip, she’ll be the fastest horse in the neighbourhood.” Izzy neighed again, but everyone just laughed. “You seem to be taking this very seriously,” Yreo sneered. “I made a bet with Buttercup about it. I don’t want to lose to my horse.” Yreo raised an eyebrow. “You’re betting against your horse? Don’t you have to… talk to her to do that?” It was obvious that this idea was as likely to him as the moon being made of cheese. Grall, however, was not impressed. “A good rider needs to get along with his horse.” Izzy was extremely uncomfortable with this conversation again, especially because Kreks was strangely silent about it; instead, he stared at Izzy, and there was something about his look she didn’t like. Yreo had Grall give him the whip, which he let whistle through the air several times with rapid movements. Izzy winced. “Well balanced. The leather on the handle is very soft, you’ll be able to use it for hours without your fingers hurting. That’s how it should be: Comfortable for the rider, powerful for the horse. The flap is also good, the right size and hardness for your horse to feel it well. Can I try it out?” Izzy widened her eyes. “No, it’s not a toy,” Grall said, but he chuckled. “Here, take this watch and use it to stop the time.” “Wow, a fine piece. Where did you get it?” “My father gave it to me as a reward for finally riding. He said that a real rider needs a horse, a whip, and a watch.” “How did you get such a good horse? Some say she’s not from a breeding farm, but a girl from the village,” said Yreo, and everyone looked at Grall in awe. Only Kreks continued to stare. A brief smile flitted across his face. “You turned a local girl into a ponygirl? I thought that was forbidden!” said Maxi, walking round Izzy with wide eyes, who was very uncomfortable about it. It was bad enough that she was a horse in front of these goblins, but so far at least they didn’t seem to have recognised Izzy. “That’s right,” Grall said, as if it was a given to talk about such a thing. There he was again: Grall, the braggart. “She voluntarily became my horse.” His voice brimmed with pride, and Izzy would have liked to strangle him. She neighed angrily through the horse’s bit, but the others only took her sound as confirmation. “So you got the watch for making her a ponygirl?” “Not exactly, but for riding her!” replied Grall, and Izzy would have loved to stomp on the watch. “Let’s get started. I can feel how excited Buttercup is. First, we’ll run without the whip. I don’t want anyone to accuse me of gaining an advantage!” Izzy was indeed trembling, but not from excitement: Oozol had richly rewarded Grall for putting her in a bridle and under a saddle, while her reward was a crop on her bum, oats for breakfast and a ponytail in her butt. The world was unfair and crazy. But at least it was another warning to stop playing games. It was already unwise for her to get involved in this bet, but nothing more would happen. You have to get stronger, she reprimanded herself, and say no sometimes! “I’ll give the start signal,” Mexi said and stood in front of Izzy next to the track. She smiled at Grall in a way that made Izzy a little nervous, but they would have to talk about that later. “Get your horse ready. On your marks, get set…!” Izzy felt the spurs at her side and ran. She pushed off from the start line with all her might and jumped towards the tree in more strides. It felt good to canter freely and without constraint over the course. She would show Grall how little she needed him. Her teeth pressed into the horse’s bit and she sped on along the dusty track towards the tree. Grall steered her around it in a tight turn and she made her way back with full concentration, a thick cloud of dust hot on her heels. Her eyes were narrowed to slits; her gaze was completely focussed on the rapidly approaching finish line. It was almost there, and then Grall would hear how little she needed him. She was enough for herself: fast, intelligent and independent. Not a horse that needed to be ridden or driven with a crop. He’d be eating dirt in no time once he heard the time. With steaming hooves she came to a halt behind the finish line — Gralls friends surrounded Izzy and cheered. “That was amazing, you really flew over the sand!” said Maxi, and for a moment Izzy thought the girl was going to talk to her — she had been running after all — but of course she wasn’t. No one spoke to a horse… she had done her job and made her rider proud. Nothing more was needed. “Good girl, take it easy,” Grall said as Izzy pranced around, patting her on the head. “You were really quick, you must be the fastest mare in the neighbourhood. What does the clock say?” “It took you 25 seconds. That’s a good time.” Izzy lowered her head in disappointment. That wasn’t her best time on a course like this, she’d often been faster at school. It must be Grall’s extra weight, she thought, grumbling. But at least she wasn’t going to get any faster. She already felt exhausted, it was unthinkable that she would get any faster. “Ready for round two?” Mexi asked excitedly and Grall smiled. “This is it!” he said, leading Izzy back to the start line. “Get ready!” Izzy snorted, as if Grall really had a lot to do. She felt everyone’s eyes on her, and Grall pressed deep into the saddle. He had the crop in his right hand and was already raised it high in the air, ready to give her a good crack. His legs twitched nervously with the spurs. Time seemed to stand still, even the birds flew more slowly across the sky. The smells were more intense and even Grall’s breathing seemed louder to Izzy. She closed her eyes and waited for the sign. She could have tried to cheat, of course, but that wasn’t her way. If she was going to win here, she was going to do it the honest way. “Go!” Grall spurred Izzy hard, and she took an exhausted first step. She no longer had the energy of the first race, and there was no doubt in her mind that Grall would lose his bet. But her rider must have sensed this, after the second step, the crop cracked hard on her bottom. It was a nasty pain, it exploded on her bum and made her jump forwards with a yelp, with an energy that she had never thought she had in her. She would have given anything at that moment never to feel it again, but even before the next stroke she knew that these two hundred meters or so would bring her many more blows. After a few more jumps, Grall struck again. Again Izzy leapt ahead, just to escape the pain for a moment at least. New strength coursed through her body, she was ready to give everything just to finish this race quickly. Her eyes grew damp, but that didn’t matter, she didn’t need to see, just run; direction and pace were dictated by her rider. After a few strokes, her rump slowly went numb — for which she was grateful, but Grall seemed to have expected it. He changed hands and slapped the other buttock. Izzy yipped again and Grall drove her round the tree at a fast gallop. Half the distance had been covered, but her legs and bottom were already burning. To make matters worse, the ponytail vibrated between her bum cheeks with each of the long jumps when the crop struck again. Izzy’s head was overloaded with pain, pleasure, and one thought: was this what had happened to her mother? Was this the life her mother had longed to return to? She thought of the coin and the whip in her beloved prince’s hand. Was love sometimes full of pain, or did that only apply to horses? “You can do it!” shouted Grall encouragingly. “Go on, we’re almost there. You’re doing great!” As if in reward, he hit her extra hard; but there was nothing but enthusiasm and joy in his voice, he seemed to be oblivious to her pain — or to think it was a normal part of a ponygirl’s life, which he was certainly right about. That’s how different their worlds were, even though they were so closely connected: For him, it was an adventure, a race in which he controlled the outcome. He steered her, drove her and would earn the honour in the end. Izzy, however, only got a sore bottom and the realisation that you were an animal, especially when you lost control of your life — and she had never felt that more than on this dusty road. Grall drove her on and on, the blows with the crop came fast, while he repeatedly gave her hard kicks with the spurs. Both drew a strength out of Izzy that she had previously thought impossible. “Hooo, stop!” he shouted and yanked so hard on the reins that he pulled Izzy’s head back. The metal plates in the bit pressed painfully into the roof of her mouth and onto her tongue. She planted her hooves in the dirt and skidded a few meters until she finally came to a halt. The spectators formed a circle around Izzy again, pulling Grall off his horse and congratulating him. “You’re good with a whip,” Maxi said, a special gleam in her eye as she looked at Grall. “It didn’t leave any marks on your horse either. I’m sure Buttercup barely felt it.” Izzy neighed in displeasure, but the others just laughed. “Well done,” Grall praised, but Izzy was nervous. She suspected it was going to be closer than first thought. “Unbelievable, you’ve improved it to 23 seconds! Now Buttercup really is the fastest horse in the neighbourhood!” A wild storm raged inside Izzy. On one hand, she was proud of her achievement — as Grall had predicted — but then there was also this deep shame that she really had to rely on a rider to do her best. What a disgrace! She had accomplished something great, but only because she had allowed herself to be turned into an animal. It was the horse that had won, not the human. Grall will surely remind her of this to the end of her days. “The crop made Buttercup two seconds faster,” Maxi cheered, hugging the bright red goblin, and Izzy hung her head. “That really is a big difference, she responds great to whipping, you should always do that from now on.” Izzy’s heart sank into her non-existent trousers. What a ghastly realisation, Izzy thought, but Grall looked extremely pleased. He tapped her bottom playfully with the crop and winked at her. “Don’t worry, Buttercup, we’ll talk about this later, I promise.” His friends looked at him in amazement again, but at least this time he hadn’t completely forgotten that she wasn’t really his property; and that he only had her permission for this ride. Kreks grumbled. “There you see what a rider can do. Imagine how fast she would have been with a real rider. No offence, Grall, but you’re mediocre at best. My father wants to buy me a new horse. What do you want for her?” “How much are you offering?” asked Grall, and Izzy struggled against her reins. How could he think he could sell her? “Easy Buttercup, I was only joking. Sorry, you’re not for sale, of course. I wouldn’t even sell you if I could. Never!” “Rubbish.” Kreks crossed his arms. “Every animal has its price. Come on, what do you want for her? Or is she not yours at all?” Grall stared at him, speechless. “What? No, what are you talking about…”, he fumbled around. He looked around for help, but the other goblins also seemed to be waiting for an answer. Izzy stood rooted to the spot and listened. “Of course she’s mine! She’s my ponygirl. Everyone knows that!” Mexi nodded with satisfaction. “There you see it. She’s his property.” “That’s right,” Grall said in a thin voice and stroked the trembling Izzy’s shoulder. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m not selling her. She remains in my stable, eats my animal food and wears my saddle. She’s my horse and she’ll stay that way forever. That’s it!” Another shiver ran down Izzy’s spine. Grall’s words were well-intentioned, but they were almost more of a warning to her than a clarification for Kreks. “Then I’ll speak to your father. He deals in ponygirls, he might see it differently,” Kreks said firmly. He pulled out a piece of paper and copied down the number of Izzy’s bosom. “What are you doing?” asked Yreo. “I’m going to check her details in the ponygirl registry, so I know her bloodline. Then my father can make a fair offer for her.” “You can’t do that!” shouted Grall excitedly. “That’s none of your business.” “Anyone can look at the register, it’s public. All horses are catalogued there. Or…” Kreks looked sharply at Grall. “You know what the penalty is for simply turning a normal girl into a ponygirl and not following the rules. Did you force her?” Izzy looked over her shoulder at Grall, who shifted nervously in the saddle. “All the better. Then you’ll go to prison — or worse — and I might be able to get her anyway. From the look of her, she’s enough of a ponygirl that she’ll be confiscated and auctioned off, so her family can get compensation. A ponygirl is always for life, even if she became one involuntarily. But you’ll get in trouble for it!” “Don’t talk nonsense!” hissed Grall. “I didn’t force her to do anything.” “Then she’s cleanly registered?” Kreks probed. “We’ll see about that. And even if she’s not, I’ll get her anyway.” “Fine, then check. You’ll see, she’s mine and you’ll never get her!” Grall trembled with tension. “She belongs to ME! And ONLY ME!” Kreks laughed dirty. “I hope you’re right, otherwise your Buttercup will soon be standing in my stable, feeling my whip as she rides!” Izzy looked after him anxiously. Was that really possible? She felt herself losing her footing. Once again, she had led herself into a trap. Silly girl, she chided herself, you knew the danger and yet, you let it happen again. She looked over her shoulder at Grall, but his ashen face almost froze her heart. A bad solution Grall hurried Izzy away from his friends. That was fine by her, she wanted to get home as quickly as possible — or rather, back to the farm. “Crap. Crap. CRAP!’ he shouted upset; she could feel the trembling in his hands from the reins and how they pulled more roughly than necessary on the bit in her mouth. But worse than that, she felt the sting of the whip on her bottom; she grumbled, but whatever got her out of here faster was fine with her for now. Her tired legs drummed over the dusty path at a fast pace and Izzy’s mind raced with them; it was a wild jumble of ideas, hope, and worries. Even without the bit, she wouldn’t have been able to get a word out. The courtyard was the usual bustle of activity as it always was at this time of day, and only Oozol took any notice of their return. The old goblin sat in his rocking chair, enjoying the day and puffing on his pipe. “You’re back early, did the whip work well?” He laughed lightly. “Don’t hold it against him, Buttercup. I remember getting my first whip as a youngster. The poor ponygirl had to endure a lot over the following weeks. But that’s the way young men are; you’ll get used to it.” She grumbled; why did she have to get used to it? But of course, she knew why: he was the rider with the whip, she was the horse that was driven with it. “Something’s wrong, I can see it in your eyes. Go on, tell me.” “Maybe it’s nothing whatsoever…” Grall mumbled, forcing a fake smile. Izzy shook her head vigorously until Grall finally took the bit out. “Kreks wants me as his ponygirl. But I’m not a ponygirl, I don’t belong to anyone!” She stamped so hard that one of the horses was spooked and threw its rider off. The groom looked angrily at Izzy, but she didn’t care. To hell with them, this was about her future! The old goblin sighed. “You two are still young, you don’t understand how the world works. Everything has its rules, and you can’t always choose them. People see you as a rider and a horse, so they expect you to behave like that.” “It’s all your fault Grall, just because you had to show them that you had a ponygirl!” “I’m really, deeply sorry!” he blurted out. They had developed a certain routine with these conversations, which got on Izzy’s nerves. She couldn’t buy anything from his apologies either… “You have to tell them that you don’t own me and that I’m not a ponygirl!” “There’s another way of looking at it,” Oozol disagreed, to Izzy’s horror. “We goblins are governed by customary law. Buttercup, you can’t let a goblin ride you almost every day — even with a horse bit, whip, and ponytail! — and then think you’re not a horse. For crying out loud, even at this moment my son is riding you! That’s just silly. Make it official — or stop it altogether. You’re both confused and don’t know where you belong. But if you’re not careful, that choice will be taken away from you.” “I can’t go on!” said Izzy, her whole body shaking. “Kreks wrote down the registration number and said I’d be confiscated if there was anything wrong with it. Oozol crossed his arms. “Kreks’ father visited the farm recently to inquire about Grall’s horse. That struck me as a bit odd. Tell me exactly what he said.” Grall swallowed and didn’t miss a single detail. “So he’s serious,” Oozol said thoughtfully. “They must have planned this together, it’s unlikely that Kreks knows the law that well. That leaves us little time to act.” “They’re not really going to confiscate me and put me up for auction, are they?” Izzy shouted anxiously. “That’s not possible!” Deep wrinkles appeared on the old goblin’s forehead, the likes of which Izzy had never seen before. “We live close to the humans here, and many of our rules and laws are not enforced for the sake of peace. We don’t capture girls here, and we don’t force them under the saddle. All the ponygirls come from far away, so they don’t have a family and history in this land. If Kreks’ father claims that Buttercup was forced, my son could be punished for it. A lack of registration is a strong argument in his favour. But even if Buttercup was a ponygirl by choice, it wouldn’t change anything because there are now too many goblins who have seen her as a mare; they’ll argue that she’s already a horse and forced registration is necessary — if Kreks beats us to it, Buttercup becomes his property. You must understand that there is a deep belief among us goblins that a ponygirl is no longer human and therefore cannot return to its kind. Whether you are a human or a ponygirl would be decided by a council that has never released a girl. In other cases, perhaps the humans would intervene, but your school should be a warning to us that this may not happen to you.” Oozol paused and looked Izzy straight in the eyes. “If Kreks’ father lays claim to you, you may soon bear his brand.” He slapped her on the spot where Grall’s symbol was painted on. Grall had gone completely pale. “We have to protect Izzy. There must be something we can do!” “Kreks’ father is a tough guy. He didn’t get rich by passing up opportunities. No, this is a serious situation. There’s only one solution: we need to register Buttercup as soon as possible. We need copies of the official documents, and we also need the number on her. Only when we are sure that everything is in order and up to date will she be safe.” “That’s impossible!” Grall objected vigorously. “I promised her that I wouldn’t force her! I won’t break that promise. Never! To hell with Kreks, if he gets too close to Izzy, I’ll crack the whip across his face!” “I don’t want that!” A tear ran down Izzy’s face. “There must be another way.” Grall stroked her head reassuringly from the saddle, and Izzy pressed herself against his hand. It was clearly all his fault, but the touch still felt good. Oozol crossed his arms. “If only you had ridden her unseen, we would have options. But there are too many witnesses and evidence. None of us here is forcing Buttercup, but we can’t change the laws. If we don’t do it, Kreks’ father will.” The conversation had not escaped the notice of the grooms or the horses; they stood conspicuously unobtrusive nearby, listening. “It’s Buttercup’s choice. She must decide.” Grall shook his head. “She’s not a real ponygirl, she’s just playing!” His voice cracked; Izzy knew that tone all too well — it was the voice of the little boy she’d known for so many years, desperately rebelling in the evening against the fact that the sun was already setting and their fun was about to end for the day. Izzy nodded vigorously. “I’m not a horse!” she said again, although of course she realised the irony of her situation. It wasn’t easy to say something like that with the big plug of a ponytail stuck up your bum and a tax tag paid for by Grall rubbing against your thigh. “I hope you both realise how stupid that sounds,” Oozol grumbled. “We’re goblins, we ride humans. We’ve been doing it for hundreds of years; it’s part of our faith! It’s a very delicate matter when you live so close to humans, as we do. There are laws — those of the humans, and those of us goblins — that protect our peace, including making a clear distinction between humans and ponygirls. With Buttercup here, it should be clear by now which side she belongs to.” “Then I’ll just stop. We deny everything!” Izzy howled again. “You’re welcome to, but even then, common law applies. You would be an unregistered ponygirl that Kreks’ father will register on himself. As I’ve just explained, you can’t escape that truth. You’ve drawn too much attention to yourself — the game has become serious. You are a ponygirl, the rest is a formality. The registration only determines who becomes your owner. Either you’ll be our horse or Kreks’.” “You should have warned us,” grumbled Grall from the saddle. His eyes narrowed to thin slits. “I don’t remember suggesting you show yourselves to God-and-the-world as horse and rider. That was your choice. Besides, Matheus has told me that he taught Izzy about our customs; she was aware of the customary law, and so were you. You are both adults and must live with the consequences of your actions.” “But…” Izzy began. “Zhrak!” Oozol commanded in a loud, sharp voice and Izzy moved into a kneeling position as if of her own accord — which annoyed her terribly, but she remained in place anyway. He stroked her cheek tenderly. “It’s too late for a BUT. The best I can offer is silence. At least with the humans. With us goblins, you have to become a ponygirl, one way or another. You humans are good at ignoring the obvious; with any luck, you will be able to lead a halfway normal human life after a while — but as Buttercup, you must become a horse. It’s risky, but that’s all we can do.” Izzy swallowed. “So it’s like my mother?” “Not quite, only a few goblins knew about the registration back then. It won’t be that easy in your case, but it’s not hopeless. We still must act quickly. However, we do have an advantage over Kreks; do you know what it is?” She shook her head and stared at him with wide eyes. What did they have that Kreks didn’t? The mean little goblin must already be sitting with his father, searching out the most painful brand for her. The thought made her sick to her stomach. “The lineage is officially continued through the mother. Since your mother legally belonged to me — even if only a few people knew that — I have a claim to her foal. To you. Only on paper, of course, your father and I agreed that you were human.” Izzy’s whole body trembled. This thing was turning out to be an absolute horror, and it was getting worse with each passing day. She was slipping deeper and deeper into this world and there seemed to be no way back. “Do I have to live here?” “Horses don’t live in a stable, they are kept in a stable,” Oozol corrected her. “I’m sorry, but I think it will be easier for you if you accept the truth. It will be better if you stay with us until things have calmed down a bit. But that also means that you will be a ponygirl during this time; without any ifs or buts. Grall should ride you regularly to strengthen his claim on you.” He waited for Izzy to digest this news; a thousand thoughts flitted across her face, but Oozol gave her all the time she needed. “One warning, though: if a goblin sees you later as a human with the number, he’ll think you’re a runaway ponygirl and recapture you. If you’re lucky. But if you’re unlucky, you’ll end up with a horse thief. It would be better if we brand you straight away. Then you’d be harder to steal.” “No!” Grall and Izzy shouted together. Oozol just shrugged his shoulders. “That’s your risk then. But you’ll have to take responsibility for the consequences yourselves.” “And after registration, I’m Grall’s…” Izzy almost choked on the word, “… property?” “Actually, you’ll be mine, but I’ll quickly gift you to him.” All this news overwhelmed Izzy. Now she was at the point where she could be gifted away. A few more days and she would become the property of her best friend and officially live in a — his, no, her! — stable. What madness still awaited her? “Only the registration number is compulsory, it will be painted under the skin and will never disappear. That’s the price for your foolery.” “And what price does Grall pay?” Izzy asked mockingly; she looked over her shoulder at Grall, who was sitting in her saddle with his head bowed. “My dear child, you are the animal in this world, not him. You lose your freedom, he gains an extremely valuable ponygirl. That’s the way it is and there’s nothing I can do about it. But even if it seems unfair to you, I assure you that we will take good care of you. I promised your mother that back when you were born, and I’m sticking to it.” This truth hit Izzy hard. “What if I just run away?” “Then they’ll probably put Grall in prison and hunt you down.” “But… but… I don’t want that!” pleaded Izzy. “Grall, you didn’t want to force me!” “I’m not forcing you; but I guess I can’t protect you from the world either.” Grall’s voice was weak and several times he sniffled and wiped his face dry. He took Izzy’s head in his hand and rested his forehead against it. “It’s too late, we’ve made a big mistake. But I’ll look after you, I promise!” He leant forwards out of the saddle and gave her a kiss on the lips. He had never kissed her like that before! She opened her eyes wide and looked straight into his soul as the taste of earth and friendship wandered over her lips. Something in his gaze told her that she had no choice; but also that there was no other goblin she could trust as much; despite the many mistakes he had made in recent days and weeks, he was still her best — and only — friend. He was her anchor in the storm, albeit one that was dragging her down slowly. She didn’t take her eyes off him. “If there’s no other way, then we’ll do it. But I only agree because I have no other choice. I want to continue being human whenever possible!” “That’s how we’ll do it!” said Grall firmly. “You’ll only ever be a ponygirl for the first few weeks, after that, we’ll find a way.” He reached into his pocket, but Izzy stopped him. “Just the bare minimum, no ring!” she ordered in a clear tone. She wasn’t prepared to give up more than was necessary. Oozol waved a groom over. “When will the veterinarian be back at the farm? He can officially apply the registration number.” “Tomorrow, my master. He’s moved the appointment up because he’ll be out of the country for a few weeks. If you want to register Buttercup, it’s the last chance. But there won’t be enough time to…” “Don’t worry about that. The papers and the number will be there in time. My word carries a lot of weight when it comes to things like this, after all, most of the ponygirls on the register come from my farm.” This news took Izzy by surprise. “Tomorrow already?” “Better get it over with quickly.” Oozol sent the groom away. “You don’t have to worry, registering a new ponygirl is a routine here.” Izzy snorted. So it was just routine for Oozol to turn her life upside down. Of course, she thought, even though she often ignored it, Oozol was dealing with women who had been ripped from their lives and were now forced into a life as a horse. In that sense, she was still doing well — at least she was asked. Sunshine hadn’t had that luck. “That settles everything. Tomorrow Buttercup will officially become a ponygirl, and you, my son, will soon get your first horse. Despite the difficult situation, it also makes me a little proud that you will be getting such a good mount. Her mother was a magnificent mare in all respects. The best there ever was in these lands.” Once again, Izzy looked to her best friend. “You’re never going to… sell me, are you?” “No, never!” he assured her with fervour. “Screw Kreks! Besides, I’d never get a horse that good again.” He tried a weak grin. There he was again, the silly little boy tripping over his own feet. Izzy looked deep into his eyes once more. “Tell me you’re not happy with this.” The young goblin shifted unsteadily in the saddle. “I don’t want you to be forced into this.” “But…?” Izzy asked, her eyebrows furrowing. “I want you to be free and decide for yourself what you do with your life. But maybe it’s your destiny. If there hadn’t been a war, you’d be the prince’s official mare now, while your mother would be the king’s horse.” He stroked her hair. “I’m almost sorry you can’t be that. But at least you can be the best horse in the whole neighbourhood. I may not be a king, but you’ll always be special to me. Come, I’ll take you to the stable.” He gave her a little kick, but it took Izzy a few minutes to make a move. He let her take her time; she was completely lost in her thoughts — he really got her thinking. What could have been if it hadn’t been for the war? What would her life have been like as the prince’s ponygirl, in a royal stable full of other horses; admired, loved, ridden and groomed? It was a strange thought, and although it frightened her, she also felt cheated of that life in a strange way. Now she had her own life as a ponygirl in front of her, only there was no prince or king to be seen in it. — Matheus sighed. “You two have never known when enough is enough.” He leaned on the lower half of the stable door and examined his daughter. “You’ve always looked a lot like your mother, but as a ponygirl, you could be her sister. It was always important to me that you had the opportunity to grow up as a human — but perhaps you were always destined for this path; your mother was from one of the oldest recorded lines of ponygirls, after all. Who knows what traces breeding leaves on us humans. We all claim to have free will, but then there are these inexplicable instincts deep inside us…” A loud gulp from Izzy was the only response. She had a bit in her mouth again and lowered her gaze; her father made no move to remove the bit, there was probably nothing she needed to say about it. But the truth was that she wouldn’t have allowed him to take it out — as much as she didn’t like the horse bit otherwise, at that moment it reassured her and was like a small step towards a future that she couldn’t prevent anyway. She ran to him and he hugged her tightly. “Don’t be afraid. There’s no shame in being a ponygirl, your mother was a horse for most of her life and never spoke ill of that time. I think she even missed the ponytails — but please don’t ask me how I know that.” He giggled. “If that’s your future, then I’m here for you. Don’t worry, your mother also belonged to Oozol and there were never any problems. To be on the safe side, I’ll talk to him anyway. When things have calmed down, you can return home if Grall doesn’t need you for a ride. Remember that you are his in the future; surely he will use you as he sees fit. That’s what ponygirls are for.” Izzy whimpered. “I’m travelling for the next few days. I only came to say goodbye, but now it’s good that we could talk again. I love you…” Izzy’s father seemed to ponder for a moment, as if two figures were sitting on his shoulder, arguing over the next word. “… Buttercup. At least you’ll have to be that for the next few days, then we’ll see.” Izzy made a face. This wasn’t the kind of conversation she was used to – but as a ponygirl it would probably always be like this now. Her father closed the stable door and left Izzy in the dark, only her name — her horse’s name — lingered in the silence. — Izzy stood nervously in the stable and waited. It was already early morning and no one had told her when the veterinarian would be coming. She had been talking to Grall all evening and had finally asked him not to be there for the registration. She was simply too embarrassed to have him watch her being registered. In the morning, Oozol and Grall had taken a cart with two ponygirls and travelled to Udamos. The sun was already high in the sky when a large cart — pulled by three sturdy ponygirls — rolled into the courtyard. The grooms made the necessary space for him and the veterinarian set up his temporary station next to his cart. It was a wild hodgepodge of glasses, instruments, a strange rack and various books and notes. Everything seemed disorganised and chaotic, and yet it seemed to follow an inner logic that was probably only apparent to the veterinarian himself. The man was a stout, middle-aged goblin, his drooping ears were larger than average, but his eyes were hidden behind thick glasses. “Hello everyone, I hope you haven’t missed me,” he piped cheerfully, waving to the ponygirls in their stables, some of whom were even blushing. He tucked his hands into two thick gloves and threw on a leather coat. “Please bring me the first horse, then we can start straight away.” To Izzy’s surprise, Pexo went straight to her stable. “We’ll start with you; he gets a bit sloppy over time, so we always start with the registrations. Please be good, this is an official task,” Pexo explained, and Izzy nodded. It wasn’t common among the goblins to explain things to a ponygirl, but in this case, she was truly grateful for it. “I’ll have to secure you, it’s common for horses to do so in such examinations.” He put a particularly tight ankle cuff on her, and made sure her arms were tied behind her back. She was also given a muzzle instead of a bit. “The muzzle is mandatory for new ponygirls during the inspections.” He also added the usual collar and leash so that he could lead Izzy to the veterinarian. “Luckily for you, your papers arrived just in time. The master really does have excellent contacts with the authorities.” Izzy snorted. Luck…. as if! They had barely left the barn when new visitors arrived at the farm. “Hurry, we’re almost too late!” shouted an elderly lady, followed by a couple of girls like a flock of goslings. They were all human. “It’s been a long journey, I know, but this is the best ponygirl farm in the area. Class, please spread out around the veterinarian’s workspace.” Izzy recognised the school class from a distant neighbouring town and whimpered. She didn’t know the teacher or the pupils personally, but she had seen the lady before; she couldn’t do more than hope that nobody recognised her. It was a strange feeling to be led naked to a vet in front of so many people, but Izzy swallowed the thought. She didn’t have a choice anyway, this wasn’t voluntary after all. The girls stared at her. “Is that a ponygirl?” a red-haired girl quipped. “This here is Buttercup,” Pexo explained, stopping with Izzy in front of the schoolgirls, much to her displeasure. “She’s being registered as a ponygirl today. She has voluntarily chosen to become a ponygirl.” Izzy’s ears turned red with embarrassment. He didn’t have to say that, too! “Who does something like that? Is she… stupid?” asked another girl with freckles on her face. “But no, that’s a good thing. She’s doing an important service for us goblins, and we’re thankful to her. If more girls volunteer, it would be of immense value for the peace between humans and goblins. She’ll be registered today, but first she’ll get a full physical examination, which will go on her record.” Izzy grumbled. Nobody had told her anything about this, including the spectators. Was there any other misfortune in this world that hadn’t happened to her? She looked around for help, but as Grall and Oozol were not there — at her request — there was no one to talk to about it. She looked towards the stables and Sunshine watched her sympathetically. “Tie the mare to the rack, please,” the vet asked. “My name is Doctor Sekor, and today you will learn how a veterinarian examines livestock, and in particular a ponygirl. Take a good look, ladies, perhaps you would like to follow this ponygirl’s example and register yourselves too.” “What if a girl decides to try being a ponygirl but doesn’t like it? “Then she’s made a mistake,” said Pexo, laughing out loud. “Ponygirls are registered for life, like Buttercup here.” He patted her lightly on the bum, then led her to the rack. It had a few attachments on a metal plate, and a few more — height-adjustable — tubes that Izzy had to bend over. She quickly realised how it worked: her hands and legs were tied to the metal plate on all fours, while the frame ensured that she maintained as straight a position as possible. Her head was secured in a special restraint; she could no longer move it and could only stare straight ahead. Nevertheless, she felt the eyes of the girls on her, who could now really admire everything about her in all its splendour. She shook the restraints slightly, but nothing moved even a little. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t move again until the vet had finished with her. “Aren’t you worried that she’ll… well… go everywhere?” one girl asked, her face grimacing. “Not at all. Ponygirls are conditioned very early on to ensure that this doesn’t happen. Our Buttercup here won’t do anything like that outside her stable without instructions, am I right?” He stroked her back, which gave Izzy goose bumps. “Let’s get started then,” he said and stood next to the well-secured Izzy. “As you can see, the animal has been tied to the rack — this is to make sure it doesn’t hurt anyone while we examine it. Many horses are anxious when they first visit a veterinarian. But this horse here seems very tame to me, which is not unusual for volunteer ponygirls. As you can see, it’s also a gorgeous specimen.” “Well, I think she’s a bit… rough,” one girl mocked. “It may be true for you humans, but different rules apply to a horse. Look at her wide hips and round rump. That’s ideal for a saddle, as are her strong shoulders. Her robust build allows her to pull heavy carts and ride long distances. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought this animal was a breeding pony. What a stroke of luck that she volunteered.” There was no end to the children’s laughter, and Izzy felt transported back to her school. But here the situation was more serious, and she didn’t really care about the children. This was about her, and that was much more important. “Let’s start with an initial assessment. The skin looks good, but we need to remove these silly drawings and give it a real registration number.” “The owner wants the number to be adopted, it has a personal meaning,” Pexo interjected. “We’ve just received the papers.” He handed the vet a stack of slips of paper, which also already bore an official seal. “All you have to do is confirm that the horse has been registered.” “Fine by me, there’s just one thing that’s strange,” said the vet, adjusting his glasses. “The date of registration is just a few days after her date of birth.” Pexo coughed sheepishly, and Izzy also listened carefully to the groom’s explanation. No one had told her anything about backdating the registration. “You have good eyes. Buttercup is the daughter — the foal — of a mare with a long lineage as a ponygirl. But unfortunately, because of the war, Buttercup didn’t become a ponygirl straight away. In order not to jeopardise peace with the humans, Mr Oozol wants her registration to be backdated. That way, we can treat this case as if Buttercup had always been a ponygirl. Her mother belonged to my master, so surely something can be done, right?” Izzy was amazed at how logical it all sounded — probably also because there was some truth in it. She looked eagerly at the doctor, who smiled quickly. “Why not, we’ll do anything for peace, after all. But first I want to hear from the horse that she’s really doing it voluntarily.” He looked Izzy in the eye. “You really decided to become a ponygirl of your own free will? Without coercion?” Izzy nodded. “Please be so good as to say it out loud. The audience will serve as witnesses. There must be no doubts about such serious matters. If you say no, you will be released immediately, and I will personally ensure that you are taken to a safe place.” Izzy nodded gratefully, even though this was not her way out. With her face contorted, she managed to get out the necessary words. “No one is forcing me; I’m here by choice and I want to be a… ponygirl.” That wasn’t the truth, but she knew the alternative all too well. A loud murmur went through the audience — many of the girls looked disgusted. “Thank you very much, then we can continue.” He seemed to have quickly forgotten that she was intelligent and could speak. “This horse looks very alert, that’s a good sign. Let’s have a look at her teeth.” He released the muzzle and Izzy instinctively opened her mouth. “Good girl. You’re well-behaved. Your owner will have a lot of fun with you.” Izzy turned even redder at the praise. “Your teeth are in good condition, they’re all still there. Slight signs of a bit, you’ve probably been ridden a few times.” He fastened a bulky horse bit into Izzy’s mouth and secured it with a strap behind her head, then turned to the other girls. “That’s not uncommon, most volunteer ponygirls have a history, and don’t make up their minds blindly. Let’s have a look at the other end. Just as I thought, you can see traces of saddle straps between her legs; in fact, she also has marks on her back and arms. This animal has been ridden a lot; the marks on her anus clearly show that she was wearing a ponytail not so long ago.” Again, the pack burst out laughing, but Izzy had already endured too much to be shaken by this. “It’s very nice for many ponygirls to be ridden. If you’d like to try it, I’m sure the farm could organise something.” The girls all declined politely. “However, it’s unusual to tax a ponygirl before registration. All right, let’s move to the first tests.” Izzy heard a few surprised “Ohhs,” behind her, then she felt something ice-cold against her bottom. It slid right in. “The thermometer is very unpopular with some animals, but it’s a must. Rules are rules.” The glass flask was cold and thick, and a humiliation she would have gladly done without. But worse than the flask in her bottom was the realisation that she had absolutely no say in the matter. This wasn’t her first visit to a doctor, but it was the first time that a doctor had spoken to her as if she were a human being, only to shove a glass flask deep up her bum shortly afterwards — without asking. The brief moment as a human had deceived her about how much she really had no say as an animal. She wiggled her bottom in irritation, which was immediately commented on. “She seems to like that,” said the teacher. “It’s probably one of THOSE girls. Watch out carefully, or you’ll end up like that too!” “Behave yourself, lady. This horse will be part of a stable with the best reputation. No need to be mean,” warned the doctor, who was clearly proud of his work. “I agreed to your visit on the assumption that you wanted to inform your students neutrally about the subject of ponygirls. If you don’t show the necessary seriousness, this demonstration will end immediately. This is honourable work with animals.” “But that’s a girl!” exclaimed the girl with the freckles. Sekor swayed his head back and forth. “That was certainly true in the past, but now — here and at this moment, and from now on, for all time — she is an animal. A horse. A ponygirl. This is the way that has brought peace to humans and goblins. If you are interested in this peace, then you should not look down on her, but ask yourself if it is not worth doing the same!” Izzy would have loved to warn the girls about this and share her story with them, but this was not the place or the time. But it seemed the girls were scared off enough as it was. Good! “Never!” shouted some of the girls. “Then at least be quiet while I do my work,” said Sekor angrily. “The thermometer can stay in for a while — she really seems to like it — and we’ll give her a few injections meanwhile.Vaccinations and the necessary ones against worms and other vermin. It’s the law for all ponygirls.“ He gave her the injections directly into her buttocks — dozens, Izzy counted unhappily. In the end, he also took out the thermometer and inserted a couple of large suppositories instead; again, of course, without asking. Finally, he pressed a large “Veterinary exam passed” stamp directly onto her forehead. “Now just a few small jobs — I see this horse doesn’t have breast rings yet. These are common nowadays, do you want her to have some?” Pexo shrugged his shoulders. “I wasn’t told about that, but a few of the other horses have them too. But why not? Is there anything else to do?” “She still has all her teeth, which is unfavourable for bits in the long term.” The young groom was visibly overwhelmed. “Do whatever you think is right!” Izzy trembled. Was the registration not enough, what was all that about? What kind of breast rings, and what was wrong with her teeth? Before she could think about it any further, the doctor bent down to her sagging breasts. “She will be able to nurse many foals with them. But for now, there are breast rings so you can control her better.” He took a pair of large metal rings and a special plier with which he attached the rings to her nipples. It hurt terribly, but tied up like this, Izzy had no choice. “The next step is a little more painful, but we have some good medicine.” He held a small bottle under Izzy’s nose, which made her dizzy for a moment. Before she knew what was happening, she had a large frame in her mouth, forcing her jaw open. The doctor reached into her mouth with a force, and she felt a strong tug that she would never have expected from this man. He propped his legs up against the frame, twisted and squeezed, then the first tooth came loose. He threw it to the side and continued. Izzy’s head was still spinning, the pain seemed to come from a great distance. One tooth after another followed, then 8 molars lay on the floor, and Izzy’s mouth had a lot of new space for a bit. The doctor sprayed a thick liquid on the wounds and the distant pain immediately subsided, Izzy’s head also cleared up. “Brave girl, you’ll soon be through it.” He had a pile of sheets brought to him and hurriedly filled everything in. He was also handed the declarations from Oozol and Matheus, as well as the documents from Izzy’s mother. “So mother and daughter have the same name. That’s wonderful. Buttercup, I like it.” He stroked Izzy’s head and smiled at her with the sincere warmth of a man who had dedicated his life to animals — of which Izzy was now one. Izzy stared nervously at a small device into which the doctor was pouring some colour. “Let’s move on to the last step.” With skilful hands, he removed the old number from her breasts and put the machine on. It stung terribly, each needle digging deep into the sensitive skin of her breasts, and it seemed to take hours before the number was finally finished. In reality, it was only minutes, but Izzy had lost all sense of time. She hung powerlessly in the rack and just waited for him to finish. The doctor smeared a protective paste on her chest, then signalled to the groom. “Now Buttercup is a ponygirl for life. That’s worth a little reward, don’t you think?” He took one of the treats out of a bag, which Izzy was almost addicted to by now. She ate from his hand without hesitation. “There you see, a good horse knows when it has earned a treat. These sweets are made according to ancient goblin methods: Their recipe has been passed down among the goblins for centuries; they are said to make the ponygirls big and strong, but also tame and more docile. That’s quite possible, and my observations confirm it.” Izzy almost choked on the candy. Did these sweets really have this effect? Was that why she had become so willing to put up with all this? She swallowed the sweet and grumbled. “Then again, it could just be a nice story to make us goblins feel a bit more comfortable around such strong animals. Who knows for sure? Would any of you like to try one?” All the girls declined, especially under the stern gaze of their teacher. “Good, then Buttercup can go back to the stable now. It’s been a big day for her.” He slapped her lightly on the bottom and the schoolgirls laughed as Izzy was taken back to the stables — her official home — with little tripping steps. She was now a ponygirl, a horse; an animal owned by a goblin and now wore Grall’s personal number permanently on her breast. Soon she would officially belong to him too, but until then, she was the property of Oozol. She looked out of the stables and watched the girls leave after an hour, chattering — free people who could do whatever they wanted, while Izzy stayed behind as a horse. The punishment Izzy’s heart raced as she stood back in her stable. It had really happened — she was officially a ponygirl. A horse. An animal according to the goblins. She looked down and stared at her body: she really was a ponygirl, through and through, there was no longer any doubt about it. On her feet were the sturdy pony boots with their hooves, which announced her every step with an unmistakable knock-knock-knock. The tax tag dangled between her legs — paid for by Grall, a disgrace she would not soon forget. On the other side, she felt the large plug stuck in her bum, the ponytail sticking out and tickling her thighs. Further up, her eyes caught two shiny rings that would soon be used to tie her up somewhere; above them, a number with jet black numbers was tattooed on her breast, telling everyone immediately that she was nothing but cattle. She belonged to someone; like a chair, a house — or a cow. She sighed. That was all she had left because the horse bit in her mouth — held by a tight bridle around her head — was the last missing piece of the puzzle that was necessary for her transformation into a horse. Only the saddle and reins were missing, but a ponygirl didn’t wear such things in the stable. Ponygirl, it echoed in her head. It was unbelievable and utterly wrong. And yet, it was true, she was standing in a stable waiting for her owner. O-W-N-E-R! Her stomach turned at the mere idea. Even she — who had accepted each of the many changes far too easily until now — was struck by this notion like a hammer blow. She leant against the wall and took a deep breath. But whose fault was that? … Her own, Izzy had to admit with sagging shoulders. As much as Grall had a part in it — and there was no doubt about that, he had had the saddle made in the first place — she had to accept her own part in it. She would have liked to slap herself for it, but with her arms tied behind her back, that wasn’t an option. Another sign that she was a horse. She berated herself for being so foolish and allowing a saddle on her back just because of her mother. No, she corrected herself, she had wanted it. That was the final mistake — that, and thinking goblins would take her — a ponygirl — to a goblin party. It had all gone down the drain after that. The ponytail, being seen on her way home, the school… her life had been like a row of dominoes, and that night the first dominoes had finally fallen. If only she had listened better to her father’s warning. She slid to the floor and felt the ponytail in her bum. Well, not everything was bad, she had to admit, and she didn’t mind the rides per se; nature was wonderful, and Grall as a rider gave her the opportunity to let her thoughts wander freely. But that didn’t change the fact that she was about to lose her future. No tail up her bottom could make up for that. — The hours passed slowly, and it was almost evening when the cart with Oozol and Grall pulled into the courtyard. The young goblin immediately jumped down and ran to Izzy. He stormed into her stable — but first put something next to the stable door so that Izzy couldn’t see it — and found her huddled in a corner. “How are you?” asked Grall; his voice was full of concern, but also a hint of excited curiosity — which was not surprising, after all, he got a precious ponygirl that day. He carefully sat down next to her in the dry straw and gave her a gentle hug. Izzy allowed it; Grall straightened up again and looked at Izzy closely. “He did the number well, the digits are finely worked. He knows his trade. Before you say anything, nobody said anything about rings. I promise!” He bit his lip. “But… maybe it’s quite practical… wait, listen to me first, please! My father is serious about you living as a ponygirl for the first few days or weeks. It’s safer that way. But it also means that you’ll always have to be tied up like all the other horses — I mean, like the real ponygirls, of course. Otherwise, you would always need a collar or a horse bit, but this way I can secure you just like that. I know it’s annoying, but you’ll have to get used to it… for sure” Izzy grumbled angrily, trying to tell him something through the horse bit. As always, it sounded more like a whinny, but Grall was smart enough to take the horse bit out of her mouth in a hurry. She stretched her jaw before she spoke. “Great, then I have something to look forward to…” she said sarcastically. The words came out with difficulty, her tongue felt strangely wide because of her missing teeth. “Besides, that’s not all!” She opened her mouth wide so that Grall could see the vet’s dirty deed. “It looks good,” he complimented, as if he was admiring the paint job on a new house rather than Izzy’s missing molars. “We didn’t ask for that either, of course, but I was worried about the bit damaging your teeth. Nobody likes a horse with toothache; my father says it’s very uncomfortable when wearing a horse bit. The bit will also fit better now, so you can keep it in for a longer on lengthy rides.” He was right about that, Izzy knew, but it didn’t really reassure her. There was something dangerous in her gaze, and Grall raised his hands so quickly to reassure her that a small book fell out of his trouser pocket: Animal husbandry for beginners — From buying to breeding. Izzy jumped up quickly. Her menacing shadow darkened the world around Grall, just as the moon sometimes obscured the sun. “Wait!” Grall squeaked and made himself a little smaller. “It was a joke.” He scratched his head sheepishly, and his innocent smile was disarming enough for Izzy to sit back down. “I guess my sense of humour isn’t the best. Although there are some useful tips in the book…. all right, I’m sorry, this is all my fault.” Izzy leaned forward and hissed at him. “Your fault? Of course, it’s your fault too, the saddle didn’t get into your barn on its own.” Grall lowered his eyes, embarrassed, but before he could say anything, Izzy continued. “But it’s my fault too. I let it happen and kept ignoring the warning signs. I should have drawn the line at the horse bit. I can see that now.” Her voice trailed off; it felt strange to talk about it so clearly and distinctly. It was almost liberating. “Still, we have to do something, I don’t want to be a horse forever.” “It’s not forever,” Grall tried to reassure her. “We’ll find a way to make it like it used to be. Just with occasional rides. It would be a shame to let the saddle gather dust.” He winked at her, but Izzy didn’t respond. She looked at her breasts. “But how? People have seen me as a horse. You don’t have to lie to me, I know there might be no going back.” “But you wanted to be human again!” “Of course I want that! But… How is that supposed to work? Look at me, I live in a stable and look like any other ponygirl. What makes me different from the other horses?” “I know something!” He turned round and hurried to the door, where he bent briefly to the side and hid something behind his back. “Close your eyes!” “If that’s a new whip, then…” she said, but she dutifully closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Grall was holding a large bouquet of flowers in his hands — including buttercups, of course. “What makes you different from the other horses? Well, for one thing, you’ll be mine, and for another, they don’t get flowers from their best friend.” Izzy bent down and smelled the flowers. It was a pleasant odour of wilderness and freedom that she had always cherished, wafting into her nose and instantly lifting her spirits. Grall wasn’t wrong, no one brought a gift to a simple animal in a stable; none of the goblins were usually interested in what the ponygirls liked. For a moment, all was right with the world again for Izzy, even if her arms were still tied behind her back and she was squatting in a stall with her future owner. “When it’s all over, we’ll go for a nice ride together and everything will be fine,” Grall said, tucking the bouquet between the wooden planks so that it wouldn’t fall to the ground. “Then you understand that I don’t want to be a horse, even if I officially belong to you?” “Absolutely. I would love to have you as my ponygirl — not just on paper — but I understand that you don’t want that. You’re more important to me as a friend. Nevertheless, we have to keep up appearances over the coming days. My father insists on it.” He had this special gleam in his eyes that made it clear to Izzy that at least this solution wasn’t keeping him awake at night. She couldn’t even blame him, from his perspective the thought must be quite pleasant. “So you’re going to be treated like a horse for the next few days. I have to ride you, too, so that the goblins see that you are mine.” She neighed out of habit before remembering that she could still speak. “After this, we’ll find a way?” “If there is one, we’ll find it!” After a sharp call from his father, Grall prepared to set off. He also put her horse bit back in, which to her displeasure found its perfect place in her mouth behind her teeth and pulled her cheeks back slightly. — The next two days were largely uneventful. As announced, Izzy was handled like any other horse: In the morning they cleaned her stable, then got her ready for the day. She was given a light bridle and, as always, her horse bit, which was placed behind her teeth. Apart from that, she only had her arms tied and her own ponytail tucked into her bum, after which she was taken out to pasture, where she was also given food and water. There was plenty of time for her to have fun with the other horses, who had now firmly accepted her into their herd. However, she was the only ponygirl who always wore a ponytail; Grall had insisted on it. Izzy whinnied, but in truth she wasn’t particularly unhappy about it — even if she would never have admitted it. New ponygirls were picked up every day for long training sessions — Lisande was always there too, but there was nothing that could be done about her fate. So far, Izzy had been spared these exercises, but like most of the ponygirls, she was requested and saddled by her rider at any time as required. Grall followed his father’s instructions to the letter, using Izzy even for short rides so they could be seen together. Sometimes it was just a ride to the edge of the village so he could buy some sweets. Otherwise, he had never been there that often, but the freedom of a ponygirl probably made things easier. He was always friendly and treated her well — sometimes he even apologised to her when he had to ride her — but ultimately, she was still an animal that was useful to him. These were no longer the rides of two friends with a common goal; these rides were all about what Grall wanted and needed. When goblins were around, which was almost always the case, he didn’t speak to her either, which she wasn’t surprised about, who spoke to their mode of transport? At his destination, he usually tied her up somewhere or ordered her to wait for him with a short “Zhrak”. To make matters worse, the whip had also become a normal part of her rides — but what really bothered her about it was the realisation that it continued to work excellently on her. Izzy counted the days and hoped that things would soon calm down enough for her to be human again, although she had little doubt that Grall was slowly getting used to life with a mount in the stable. Izzy was sitting bored in her stable, staring at the ceiling, when an unfamiliar voice caught her interest; visitors were rare on the farm and most new arrivals were prevented from speaking by a horse’s bit. But this voice was strong and confident, it resounded across the yard and seemed to be coming closer. With a click, the door opened and Oozol invited a guest into the shady stable with a sweeping gesture. Izzy’s heart stopped. Behind Oozol, a well-dressed, older goblin entered the stable, clearly reluctant to step onto the straw, but Izzy’s shock was directed at the second visitor: Kreks! The young goblin grinned broadly and meanly, but luckily kept his mouth shut. “That’s the one,” said Oozol reservedly. Whatever was going on here, he didn’t seem entirely happy with it either. “I wasn’t promised too much. She is magnificent. Get the animal up so I can have a closer look at her.” “Why, she’s not for sale,” grumbled Oozol. “I want her,” Kreks croaked to the man who was obviously his father. “You’ve seen her papers, she’s too good for this farm — and Grall!” “Oozol, please do me a favour, or my son will not give me peace.” Oozol sighed and signalled to Izzy, but she wasn’t willing to be a puppet for these goblins. What was the point anyway? “Stand up, Buttercup, so Vepox can look at you,” he said with a certain sternness in his voice, but Izzy shook his head and retreated deeper into the stable. His gaze darkened. He went out for a moment and came back with a riding whip. “Buttercup, you’re making me look bad. Get up.” When she still didn’t do it, he gave her a good smack on the bottom. She jumped to her feet instantly. “Behave yourself in front of my guests, Buttercup.” Izzy grumbled unhappily. Old Oozol had never beaten her before, but she had never been his property before either. Had he done the same to her mother? No, her father had said he was good to her. That must have had something to do with Kreks and his father. Maybe her mum was just a little better behaved than she was, Izzy thought, rolling her eyes. Vepox, who looked like a wrinkled version of his son, took his time. He walked slowly around Izzy and looked at her with interest from all sides, as one would judge a — well — horse. He pinched her buttocks, allowed himself, after a loud “Zhrak!” a close examination of her breasts and also looked into her mouth, commenting favourably on the absence of her molars. He even reached between her legs, and it was only the threat of Oozol with the whip that made Izzy sit still while the guest gave her a light internal examination — front and back. “Easy, Isabel, easy,” Vepox said as his fingers stroked between her legs. She squeezed her eyes shut; so he knew who she had once been. That knowledge only made things worse — it was one thing to be groped by someone who thought you were an animal, but quite another when they knew for a fact that you were actually a human from this area. Vepox even waved his son over and he did the same. It was more humiliating than even the visit to the veterinarian; at least he was a professional, but neither Kreks nor his father Vepox seemed to be looking for anything besides their own entertainment. The young goblin in particular grabbed her all over and until Izzy shivered. Her head was spinning, the changes coming at her so fast she barely had time to think. Days ago, what these goblins were doing to her would have been a crime, but now she had to endure it, and was even punished if she resisted. “Excellent. This is what I’ve been looking for.” Vepox raised his hands as Oozol was about to say something. “Let’s talk about this later. I’d like to ride the horse, if it’s allowed.” “She’s fast and worth any money!” Kreks boasted, as if Izzy was already his. His father looked at him discerningly. “Restrain yourself, my son, so much enthusiasm raises the price!” Izzy snorted. She had no price, she was not for sale! Oozol seemed to think for a moment, but then he nodded. “Fine, but only a short ride.” He handed Izzy one of the sweets as a reward for her compliance, which she greedily took after a moment’s hesitation. It was too late for shame anyway, plus something inside her craved the sweet; it was that particular smell and the lure of the melting candy on her tongue that almost drove her wild — plus she could do with some cheering up right now. He leant forward and whispered: “Don’t worry, it’s just out of courtesy. Play along, there’ll be no problems and it’ll be over quickly.” Izzy nodded — even though the courtesy was obviously not extended to her — and allowed the grooms to saddle her without any resistance. With bridle, ponytail, and saddle, she stood in the arena and waited nervously to see what would follow. At least it wasn’t Kreks, Izzy thought. The little goblin stood on the sidelines and seemed to be visibly enjoying the show. “Tack,” Vepox shouted and Izzy was on her knees before she’d fully heard the word. Whatever she thought herself, she was a well-trained ponygirl. Izzy looked around for help. Where was Grall? The old goblin climbed somewhat awkwardly into the saddle and let Izzy stand up. He was a little heavier than Grall, which was probably due to his big belly. Still, he was a lightweight to Izzy; her unwillingness to carry him wasn’t because of his weight, she just hated having someone other than Grall as a rider. If she had to be a horse, she at least wanted to be Grall’s own ponygirl. The old goblin gave her a good kick and steered her from the yard with a rough pull on the reins. He wasn’t a very skilful rider, or he didn’t trust her — he controlled and corrected her every move with a rough hand. On the first straight, he took the whip and cracked it on her bottom. “Let’s see if you’re really that fast!” Izzy jumped forwards as usual, driven by the whip and her wish that it would stop soon. She flew over the sandy ground again and let her rider drive her in circles around the yard. The heat was burning on her skin and sweat was pouring down her face. “Faster!” the man called, beating her without pause. It was degrading, a long string of humiliations, and yet she could do nothing about it but follow her rider’s wishes. As much as she loathed it, the number on her bosom made her an animal that had to obey. Eventually, he steered her back through the gate and stopped her just short of Oozol. Izzy breathed heavily through the horse bit and was relieved when the “tack” came. “Very impressive, she’s really fast.” Oozol looks at the other goblin’s handiwork, visibly displeased, but doesn’t mention it. “She’s my son’s pride and joy, and I must say: Rightly so. The best horse in my stable.” Izzy’s ears burned at this praise. It was clearly heartfelt, and yet it robbed her of all humanity. “She would certainly win numerous races, but your son is probably not interested. An animal like that is a waste on him — no offence. He’s a good boy, but any other ponygirl would do for him.” Oozol nodded slowly. “I’ve always told him that too, but he only wanted this one. You have no idea how much he always got on my nerves with that. Isabel here, Buttercup there. I showed him dozens of other ponygirls, but I only wanted this girl.” Izzy listened attentively. But it was no longer a surprise to her how much Grall wanted her as his horse. Now he had what he wanted. “Grall has good eyes for horses, I’ll give him that. Still, you should at least listen to my offer.” Kreks stood next to his father and nodded eagerly. Despite how cheeky he usually was, he had good control of his tongue around his father. Izzy could only assume this had taken a few painful lessons. She savoured the thought. “She’ll be my son’s soon, so she’s not for sale — until he wants to sell her. Besides, she’s the daughter of a good friend. She’s like family.” The old goblin laughed. “You’ve really gone soft over the years. In the past, you wouldn’t have hesitated. Look at her, you’re wasting her talent. She should be a racehorse and win races. Just two or three years on the racecourse, and she’d make big profits as a broodmare.” Izzy’s ears burned with shame. She tugged at the reins, but Oozol gave her a light tap with the whip, flicked the blinkers shut and quietened her — luckily for her, he’d been a bit sloppy about it, so at least she could still see around the edges. “Come on, if you don’t want to sell her, at least lend her to me for the races. We’ll split the proceeds from the breeding. Look at her hips, she’d produce many healthy foals.” Izzy neighed unhappily. How could this goblin talk about her like that, right in front of her? But of course, he could because she was just an animal to him. If Oozol had wanted it, she would have a stallion behind her and deep inside her that very evening. The thought made her nervous, in more ways than one. Her legs trampled nervously over the sandy ground. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. How long has your son had his eye on her?” Oozol asked and laughed. “Kreks has wanted her for a long time, long before he saw Grall on her saddle. None of us would have expected a girl from these lands to become a ponygirl. You know me, I’m ready for any mischief, but that surprised me. Without Grall’s daring, we wouldn’t be negotiating with each other here today. In our family, we know what we want. Tell me the price and we’ll negotiate.” “She’s not for sale,” Oozol repeated, but his voice revealed that these words gave him as much pleasure as a toothache. “Nothing is not for sale. How about my son riding her a little while we have a cosy chat about the final price? I’m sure he’ll ride her home today.” Izzy neighed unhappily again, but Kreks was already getting ready to climb onto her saddle. He even had his whip in his hand, which looked unusually thin and painful. “Soon you’ll be mine. The whip is brand new, especially for you, like a nice, fine, thin branch,” he whispered in her ear after he sat down in the saddle. Izzy was still kneeling, but her heart was already racing. She could feel him in the saddle, almost smell him! Her worst nightmare — apart from everything that had happened so far — had come true. Kreks, that bastard, was back in her saddle, and he was obviously determined to make a habit of it. Izzy would have loved to jump up and throw him into the sand, but she knew full well that trouble would follow. She struggled to control herself, but Kreks only laughed harder when he felt her trembling. “Enjoy the feel of your new master on your back.” His father wasn’t finished yet either. “How about a hundred thousand thalers?” The surprised squeal from Izzy made both men laugh. “Don’t stare at me like that; a good horse — especially one that produces many foals — doesn’t come cheap. Come on, agree and we’ll seal the deal.” The old man raised his hand and Oozol’s hand twitched too, but before Izzy could see if he would really give it up so easily, a loud shout stopped the two goblins. “Stop!” shouted Grall across the square; he hobbled over to Izzy and yanked Kreks out of the saddle, flinging him into the dirt. Next, he slapped his surprised father’s hand away. “What is this?” His head was as red as a tomato. “My son, if I may introduce you…” “I know who that is,” Grall interrupted his father coldly. “Kreks won’t get Buttercup! You have no right to sell her!” He stroked Izzy’s leg and stood protectively in front of her. It was almost a comical sight, the little goblin trying to protect the much larger Izzy, and yet it impressed three other goblins at once — and Izzy herself, who for a moment felt almost as safe behind him as behind an iron shield. Oozol coughed in surprise and straightened to his full height, still not reaching Izzy’s waist. “Son, in business you at least listen to an offer before you turn it down — which is what I was going to do!” “You can’t sell my best friend for a few measly thalers.” “10000 thalers is hardly shabby. That’s the price of a whole new stable, including a few ponygirls.” Oozol looked sternly at his son, who had almost gone pale. “You’ll never see that kind of money again in your whole life,” sneered Kreks, but Grall — without looking — slapped him so hard that the other goblin fell to the ground, dazed. “One hundred thousand thalers,” Grall stuttered and swallowed. “That really is a lot of money.” Izzy stomped angrily — narrowly missing his foot — and snapped him out of his thoughts. “Never mind, you can’t do that, she’s MINE!” Izzy wasn’t entirely happy with that either, but at least it was better than all the alternatives. At least she wasn’t exclusively an animal to Grall. “My boy, my name is in the register. She eats my food — that’s not for free either — and she’s in my stable. She is, after all that is good and right, my property. And if I wanted to sell her, I would be allowed to. In theory, of course.” “And the fact that she grew up in front of you has no meaning to you? Grall’s voice had become shrill, full of fear and even disgust. Izzy was trembling too, the situation was serious, she realised all too clearly. She was just an object, an object with a price tag, hardly any different from the dress she was wearing just a few days ago. But the fact that Oozol was discussing it at all made her even more speechless than the horse bit in her mouth… “My son, I have helped foals into the world, which I later personally brought in for mating; I then brought their foals into the world too. Buttercup is my friend’s child, she is dear to me — but a ponygirl always has a price.” “What would Matheus say to that? “He’s well aware of the rules for ponygirls.” Oozol crossed his arms. Grall walked right up to him and pressed a finger into his chest. “Then you would have sold her mother in front of him too? She was yours, too.” “Well, that was different…”, the older goblin fumbled around. “Oh, and what was different about it?” asked Grall, looking sternly at his father. Izzy did the same. Oozol grimaced. “You’re worrying unnecessarily. Just like I said: I was just listening to an offer, like a good businessman does. But Matheus visited me before the registration and asked me not to sell Buttercup. Believe me, I wouldn’t make such a promise to just anyone. Nevertheless, you should know that such a promise is not binding. Everything has its price, even friendship. I’m surprised that you of all people don’t understand that. After all, she’s here today as a ponygirl because of you.” He looked at his son very sternly. “You seem to have forgotten that you took the first step yourself — or do you remember a moment when I even showed Izzy a saddle? You started this, not me.” Izzy and Grall both shook their heads in silence. As much of a hard businessman as Oozol was, he had never led Izzy down this path. Oozol had never even invited her to the horse farm or asked her about ponygirls. He had only been her best friend’s father over the years, and had never tried to lure her into the ponygirl life. Meanwhile, Vepox helped his staggering son to his feet; the slap from Grall had worked well, and when Kreks tried to open his mouth once more, Grall only had to raise his hand to silence him. Strangely, Vepox didn’t seem to mind, he was probably tired of his son’s squeaky voice too. “Perhaps we will come to an agreement another day. Rest assured, Oozol, that this conversation is not over. With all due respect for the reputation of your farm, a mare with royal pedigree and her qualities is not in good hands on this farm. You’ll soon realise that. If it’s all about the money, then tell me your price.” He looked Izzy straight in the eye; a shiver ran down her spine. With this man, she had to expect anything. But Kreks was certainly not hunting her for the last time either. Life as a horse brought nothing but trouble! Meanwhile, Kreks had pulled himself together. “You beat another goblin for a horse?” He laughed dirty. “She’ll be mine soon anyway.” “With any luck, you’ll never have a horse. You don’t deserve one either.” Kreks tilted his head. “Didn’t you know? My father gave me a ponygirl a few weeks ago. She responds well to the whip, just like yours. But Buttercup is something special, she has noble blood and is also from here. No one else has a horse that comes from this area. Everyone would envy me if I rode her through the streets.” “You have a horse? The poor animal…‘ was Grall’s only comment on the matter, although it hadn’t escaped Izzy’s notice that his chest heaved slightly at the mention of envy over Izzy. Oozol grabbed his visitor by the shoulder. “We shall see. Come, we have another very new horse for sale,” he said, pulling his guest towards the stables. Izzy’s heart froze at the next words. “Lisande isn’t fully trained yet, but someone like you will surely recognise her value. She could pull your carriage.” For the next hour, Izzy had to watch as Lisande was ogled and ridden by Vepox and his son, only to end up being sold like a piece of livestock — which, to the goblins, she was. The young horse looked to Izzy for help, but she was trapped in this life herself. The ponygirl was led from the yard with loud shouts, and Izzy had to learn to accept that this too was part of the fate of most ponygirls. Not only had Lisande been brought into this life as a horse against her will, but her future afterwards was not in her hands either. Kreks gave Izzy one last look, then ran after his father. — Izzy couldn’t sleep again that night, the experience of the day was still too much in her bones. She kicked the door with force and tried to scream, but the night bit prevented her from doing so. Even the ponytail didn’t lift her spirits. It was all so frustrating — why had she allowed that stupid saddle to be put on her back in the first place? She knew where it could lead and now she was in this mess with no way out. To make matters worse, Grall was busy for the next two days and she had no choice but to wait bored in the stable — or lie in the sun in the pasture, but even that quickly became boring. She wanted to go out into the world, search for ruins and learn something; not have to wait for her owner, or fear that Oozol would get the idea that he preferred quick money to the affection of his son. Her frustration grew with every day and every hour, and the other ponygirls also moved out of her way more and more often to avoid getting bumped or kicked by her hooves. It wasn’t until the third day that Pexo finally took her out for a ride. It was humiliating how much she now longed for these moments under the saddle to at least escape the monotony, but that was probably how her life was going to be from now on. He put her bridle, bit, boots, and saddle on and Izzy danced around excitedly on the spot. “Calm down, girl!” said Pexo, laughing, but Izzy was still frustrated. It was humiliating that a ride was the only special thing in her life, but it was better than nothing. Fittingly, Titan had just been led across the yard too — a welcome sight for a starving mare, Izzy thought to herself somewhat foolishly, and she lusted after him. “Concentrate!” admonished Pexo as Izzy squeezed her thighs together because of this and he couldn’t secure the saddle between her legs. But she still didn’t listen and it took a slap on the buttocks to bring her back to reality. As soon as the last strap was fastened, Gribat brought bad news. “You can take them off again, the master’s son has to get ready for school. He doesn’t have time for his horse.” Izzy lost her temper — nothing could be relied on! She swung and kicked with all her might, narrowly missing Pexo, and smashed a table with her hard hooves. “What’s going on here!” Oozol shouted across the entire courtyard, and immediately everyone was quiet. The old goblin came running up and looked at the broken table and the two grooms who had jumped to one side. “I’m sorry,” Izzy wanted to say, but the horse bit prevented her from apologising. Pexo looked at her with wide eyes, and Izzy was heartbroken to see this nice little goblin groom terrified. What had she done? Gribat turned red. “Your dangerous mare nearly kicked us. She must be tied up,” he demanded angrily. Oozol nodded, and Izzy soon found herself in an even tighter restraint than usual; she couldn’t have walked a step if she’d tried. “Zhrak!” Oozol waited until Izzy had dropped to her knees and laid her head on her chest in shame. “Buttercup, we don’t tolerate that sort of behaviour on this farm. The same rules apply to you as to all animals. I have to make sure that no livestock on the farm endangers one of the grooms like you just did. So you’re forcing me to do something I don’t like doing either.” He had a small tin filled with a thick paste brought to him. Oozol took some of it on his fingers and ordered the grooms to loosen the strap between her legs. His fingers penetrated deep inside Izzy in one swift movement and she howled in shock and shame. She felt the goblin spreading the paste inside her, deeper than any man had ever penetrated her with anything before. Pexo watched them sympathetically as a terrible burning and itching sensation spread through Izzy’s abdomen. It wasn’t the good kind of heat, it was just hot and painful; but worse than the pain was the realisation that Oozol wouldn’t have done this to her just a few days ago — but she was human back then, and now just a ponygirl. This knowledge burned more intensely than the cream. With her hands still tied behind her, she couldn’t even reach between her legs, and rubbing her thighs didn’t make it any better, the ointment was spread too deep inside her. “Take her to her stable and give her some time to think. If you do something like that again, you’ll get it in your backside too. When we come back for you and you’re tamer again, you’ll get the antidote.” From a distance, he watched as Izzy rubbed her lower body against the stable. — The hours passed sluggishly, and her stall offered no way to relieve the burning. It was real torture, and — she was sure — it was meant to be. It was meant to make her docile, controllable and tame. And even if she didn’t like to admit it… it worked. She would do anything just to make it stop. Finally, she heard the lock of her stall and saw Grall coming to her with a new paste. She whimpered — out of pain, but also because she didn’t want her best friend to do it, but she had no choice. Without him asking her to, she knelt in front of him, pressed her upper body into the straw and presented her wide bottom to him so that her private parts were easily accessible to him. It was the most humiliating pose she could imagine, but she wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. Even Grall looked unsure as he took the paste on his fingers, brushed the ponytail aside and slowly entered her. Izzy neighed loudly through the horse bit. He turned his head away as he spread the paste all over her with careful movements. She felt his fingers and pressed against him so that he could spread the ointment deep enough. The burning slowly subsided and was replaced by a new heat, but Grall hurriedly pulled his fingers out of her. He wiped his hands clean and stood up. She saw immediately that something was wrong. “Some grooms — especially Gribat — aren’t satisfied with this punishment. Pexo has spoken out in your favour, but the others have stood their ground. They are demanding a harsher punishment. I’m so sorry, but my father has no choice. He’s dependent on the men, and they’ll go on strike if you’re not treated like the rest of the livestock. They’re afraid it would set a bad example for the other ponygirls. And they fear you.” Two grooms came to her side and secured her well again, but this time at least she could walk. Still, she felt like a criminal being taken to the judge. Grall attached a lead to her two breast rings — probably so she wouldn’t forget what she was — and led her out into the yard where, to her horror, everyone was already gathered. Grooms, ponygirls and Oozol stood in a circle around the table she had smashed. It had been hastily repaired, but the cracks were still clearly visible. Izzy stopped in front of Oozol and immediately dropped to her knees after a sharp “Zhrak!” from Grall. “That’s good,” said Oozol unusually gently, stroking her head. “You will receive another punishment for your misbehaviour. Lie down on the table and you will get five strokes of the whip on your bottom.” He hesitated briefly and looked grumpily at his grooms, who were watching everything expectantly — only Pexo looked unhappy. “If you refuse, we’ll tie you up and you’ll get five extra strokes.” Izzy’s whole body trembled. What kind of choice was that? But she recognised the whip in his hand and knew he was serious. So it was the same punishment as Sunshine’s; now she really was an animal herself to be beaten like this. She looked at Sunshine, who was standing at the other end of the ring, but there was no gloating or satisfaction in her gaze — just genuine pity, like all ponygirls had in their eyes. “What do you decide, Isabel?” Izzy’s eyes widened. What was that all about? Why did he have to use her real name now of all times when she was more removed from it than ever before? Was he mocking her? But there was no sign of that on his face — he seemed almost as unsure as she was. Was the name supposed to comfort her? If so, it missed its target — no, it was only the thought of hiding behind the role of ponygirl that gave her the courage to look at the table and accept the punishment. It was a horrible thing for animals — but normal — but it would be unthinkable for a human to be treated like this. With trembling legs, Izzy hobbled over to the table and lay down on it. The wood was rough and full of splinters that dug into her stomach and breasts. That alone was almost punishment enough, but she knew only too well that it didn’t end there. She looked at Oozol, who handed the whip to Grall with an unsteady hand. “No, I can’t do that!” the young goblin said, startled, and stumbled back a few steps, but Oozol pushed him forwards again. “One day you’ll have to run this farm. You’d better learn what it takes. Buttercup will survive, only her pride — and her butt — will be hurt. If you don’t want to do that, you’ll be responsible if a ponygirl injures someone. You’ve learnt to ride with her — now learn what it means to own an animal.” Grall looked at his father in bewilderment. “You’re just afraid to do it yourself!” he hissed, but his father didn’t even disagree. “If you don’t do it, Gribat will,” Oozol finally replied, Izzy had never seen him so torn. Not that she felt sorry for him at that moment. One look at the keeper was enough for Grall to decide. He gripped the handle of the whip tightly and let the rest dangle downwards. His whole body shook and sweat ran down his forehead, stinging his eyes and turning them red. “I’m sorry.” The whip whistled through the air and hit Izzy’s bum surprisingly timidly. “He didn’t hit her properly!” Gribat nagged, and other carers joined in. Scumbags, Izzy thought, and Grall hissed too. “Fine,” Oozol grumbled, his eyes narrowed to slits. “Grall, if you don’t do it right, the strike must be repeated. Until you have mastered it.” The young goblin nodded and swung again. The whip shrieked in the air and hit Izzy much harder. A red welt was left on her bum. Izzy yelped in pain, also at strike two. But strike three had been too gentle again. “What did I just tell you?” Repeat the stroke. No more games.” Izzy stared at Oozol with a burning stare; grooms or not, this was silly! Where had the nice old goblin gone who had given her a doll as a child? But even Oozol’s forehead was covered in sweat. Izzy’s head exploded with pain when the new blow hit her bum. Grall had hit her with all his might and it was worse than any spanking before. The other ponygirls howled as if the whip was kissing their bottoms too. “Three!” Again Grall apologised, but it lost its meaning under the blows. Izzy’s head buzzed under a cloud of red pain and Grall’s shouts. The riding crop was a soft feather in comparison. “Four! Five!” “Is that enough for you?” asked Oozol bitterly, and most of the grooms nodded, only Gribat shook his head. “Don’t be an arsehole!” shouted Pexo, who was after all the youngest and least experienced of the grooms, and ran to Izzy. “Five strokes are enough! She’s a good horse.” Even some of the grooms who had voted in favour of her punishment nodded. Gribat was fuming with rage. “Then you’ll be responsible if she does it again!” Grall threw the whip into the dirt. “Pexo’s right, that’s enough. I’ll take full responsibility for Buttercup, no matter what happens! She’s my ponygirl, and my duty!“ The ponygirls around Izzy stamped their hooves in agreement. Izzy barely noticed, the blood was still pounding hard in her ears. “Good,” Oozol said, smiling at his son. “So you do understand what’s important after all. Quick, bring me some ointment, we need to tend to her wounds.” Izzy tried to get up, but she wasn’t quite up yet when the world spun before her eyes and everything went black. — “Give her some time,” Izzy heard Oozol’s voice as someone rubbed lotion on her buttocks. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not a monster, it didn’t bring me any pleasure either. I never enjoy it when a ponygirl has to be punished. It’s even worse with Buttercup, I remember well when she was a little girl — once she put a dress on me so we could have a tea party with her dolls. She was a sweet child, and not half as exhausting as you! But today she’s a ponygirl; an animal on my farm. Whether I like it or not, I have to keep order. No matter what the cost.” “The punishment was too harsh!” “Perhaps.” Oozol sighed, “Certainly. But we also have a responsibility to the grooms. The ponygirls are much bigger and stronger than any goblin. If we are not careful, they can hurt us badly. The grooms have to trust us and the animals; Buttercup has paid the price for her mistake, and hopefully learnt something from it.” “And hopefully you’ve learnt that family isn’t for sale!” grumbled Grall. Izzy blinked. She would have liked to rub her eyes, but her arms were tied behind her back, as they almost always were by now. Oozol sat behind her, gently treating her wounds. The deep marks of the whip were red reminders of what she now had to expect as a ponygirl if her owner thought it necessary. She sobbed and Grall took her head on his lap. “You have to be good from now on. You’re officially registered, so all the ponygirl rules apply to you. Especially on our farm.” Izzy didn’t manage more than a brief nod. “I’ll leave you two alone,” Oozol said in a brittle voice. Only then did Grall took the bit from Izzy’s mouth. “How do you feel?” Izzy stared at him. “What do you think? My best friend just whipped me senseless. How am I supposed to feel about that?” Grall’s eyes grew moist too, the first tears streaming down his face. “That’s not what I wanted!” “Do you think that makes it better?” He shook his head. “Are you sometimes afraid of me, like the grooms?” asked Izzy. “I’d trust you with my life!” he replied without hesitation. “I mean it. If you want to kick, I won’t fight back. I promise!” But Izzy shook her head, more violence was not what she felt like now. “I really was a bad friend to you today.” Izzy turned away from him in the straw and stared at the ceiling for a long time. The silence was uncomfortable for both of them, but Izzy knew she had to sort out her thoughts before she could say anything else. Something fundamental had changed today; the days since their first ride had brought many changes, but the whipping today was one step too many. Something had broken between them — at least for Izzy. Grall waited tensely, and finally, she was ready. “I don’t think we’re friends any more.” These words hit Grall like a bomb; he jumped up and stumbled back with his mouth open. “How can you say that? I didn’t whip you voluntarily! Izzy, please!” She realised he was calling her by her real name again, but eventually, it didn’t matter. Here and now she was Buttercup, whether she liked it or not. “That’s not the problem — and somehow it is. You have far too much power over me. A friendship can’t work like that.” “But…” stammered Grall. “It’s… you have to…” He searched desperately for an answer, but finally gave up. “What now?” “Now I’m just your horse, I guess, or do I have a choice?” She didn’t miss Grall’s trembling, but perhaps it was time to speak the truth. You can’t be a friend to your horse. You can love it, care for it, look after it. But friendship can’t work if one person can tie the other up somewhere or even whip her; or even sell her at their own whim. “Please leave me alone.” “But…” “You wanted me to be your horse. Now you’ve got what you wanted. And take the flowers with you; a ponygirl doesn’t need any.” A new strength flared in her. Even if this wasn’t the way she had wanted it, but at least for the moment it felt like she was in control again. It was a good feeling. Grall did as asked and walked to the door, but turned round once more and put the horse bit in Izzy’s mouth — as was required. “Are you sure?” The bunch of flowers hung limply in his hand. Izzy nodded mutely as her knees went weak. She hurriedly turned away from him. She couldn’t admit it to him, but she did it for him too. If this was her life in the future, he had to see her differently, too. For the next few weeks, at least, it was better if they played their parts. A goblin simply couldn’t be friends with his horse; it was silly to even try, Izzy knew that by now. “Alright, if that’s what you want… but I’ll still keep my promise. You’ll be a ponygirl for the next few days, but when that’s over, I’ll find a solution. Then we can be friends again! If I had wanted a stupid animal, I would have been happy with any other ponygirl.” He gave her a gentle hug and then left her alone. Izzy looked after him thoughtfully. Maybe he really would find a way, but until then, she had to learn to accept what she was now. The Belt Grall stared sheepishly at Izzy’s butt the next morning. “Still doesn’t look good. Well, I mean the wounds, not… you know.” He blushed slightly. At least he hadn’t lost all sense of shame, Izzy realized, yet she rolled her eyes. He had come to her first after getting up in the morning with a healing paste and had taken the horse bit right out of her mouth. Her arms were still bound, but that didn’t surprise her — as Grall had warned her, she was now considered a ponygirl on the farm. There was no exception when it came to safety — especially not with her — but at least he was trying to make the situation more comfortable for her. Not that it would, or could, change Izzy’s decision. He still had too much power over her, even his sheepish smile couldn’t change that. “Don’t wriggle around like that,” Grall complained, but that was easier said than done. Her bottom still ached — which was why the night hadn’t been very pleasant — and the rough skin of his green fingers wasn’t particularly gentle on her bruised bottom. She shuddered at the thought of his fingers; life as a horse had brought some changes, but this intimacy with Grall still unsettled her deeply. Of course, she knew that something like this could happen, but it was different when you were actually confronted with it. Oozol had also touched her in this way, but Grall had been her friend and lacked the necessary distance and professionalism. She pushed the thought aside. None of that mattered to a horse, and Grall would soon be her owner anyway. If they couldn’t find a way out for her, she would probably have to get used to moments like this. She sighed. Grall looked past her wide bum. “I’ll be done in a minute. It’s quite a lot of space to cover.” He laughed, and Izzy couldn’t help giggling too. There was nothing actually funny about it, but the sight of the little goblin disappearing almost entirely behind her mighty buttocks was strangely entertaining. “You’re sure you don’t want to change your mind?” Izzy tilted her head. “To make you feel a little better? If you want to know how I feel, have a closer look at my bum.” “It would be beautiful without the welts,” Grall replied as he spread some ointment right between her legs. He almost choked on his words. “I mean, for a horse, of course.” “Of course…” “But seriously, it’s not just about me. I’m sorry that…” “You’ve said that before. Thank you, but that doesn’t help me. Besides, I don’t believe you don’t take some pleasure in the fact that I might always be your horse.” He put on a mischievous smile that he used to have when he was caught doing something forbidden. “It’s great to have a horse in the stable. But you’re not like the other ponygirls. I’m only happy if you are too. We’re friends.” “We were,” Izzy interjected harshly. Grall swallowed. “You’re still important to me, and that hasn’t changed. Even if you don’t see it that way.” “I didn’t say you aren’t important to me. But we can’t be friends like this. We just can’t. You have too much power over me and I don’t know if I can trust you.” “Then I’ll prove it to you. I promise!” “That I’m worthy of being your horse, or your friend?” He thought for a long time. “If it’s up to me, then both. That’s my dream. Don’t laugh, I’m serious!” Izzy actually had a big grin on her face. Grall was a dreamer, she knew that. But how was something like this supposed to work? The strangest thing about this pondering for Izzy, though, was that she hardly cared about her life as a ponygirl any more. Something about it felt almost normal by now, even if it hadn’t been her first choice. But in a life like that, there was simply no room for friendship between animal and owner. She didn’t even know what Grall could do to help her. How could she be human again if the whole neighbourhood knew she was a horse in Grall’s stable? The hope of one day being human again was too tempting not to cling to, but now it seemed more like a burden that kept her from acknowledging the truth. But even if she could be human again, albeit on a part-time basis, Grall was still officially her owner, and such a thing required a great deal of trust — or outright submission, but at least Izzy was sure he wouldn’t demand that of her. — A few hours later, Grall saddled Izzy himself to ride her to the village. Izzy put up with it, after all, this was her designated role, at least for now. Besides, it wasn’t the first ride of its kind — and yet, it still felt strange that Grall was using her as nothing more than his means of transport. He brought her to her knees with a short “Tack!”, climbed into the saddle and gave her the spurs straight away. His wallet jingled and she guessed that it would be another short ride to the shops. But she didn’t really mind — at least she got out of the stable and could enjoy the warm summer sun, and Grall was usually a friendly rider, especially when he spared the whip — even if, as she would never tell him, she now understood when this form of motivation made sense from a rider’s standpoint. Even if she was the horse, he was spurring on with it. Not all horses had the luck of a careful rider that day. The loud neighing of a ponygirl made Izzy stop. Grall also turned around at the sound. “Animal abuser,” he growled gruffly, forgetting that he too had ridden Izzy hard. But something about the neighing was different, more pleading. They both caught a glimpse of it through the trees; it was Kreks, who was charging through the forest on Lisande. The poor animal was being whipped by its rider and driven on at a fast gallop. It was a terrible sight that broke Izzy’s heart, but with the horse’s bit in her mouth, she couldn’t even say anything about it. Grall seemed to share her thoughts. “Bastard. Lisande is still too inexperienced, she needs guidance, not beating.” Izzy neighed in agreement, and Grall stroked her head. “Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do, she’s his. Poor thing.” He gave Izzy the spurs again and she trotted on with her head down. Poor Lisande, she thought, nobody deserves this. When she arrived in the village, she was again the centre of attention, even more than in the previous days. Word must have got around by now that Izzy was a local girl. Such a thing was extremely unusual, but even if Izzy had liked to have done without this attention, the reactions were at least positive — which in essence almost worsened it. Izzy saw a glint of hope in their eyes, and she could well imagine that most of the goblins in the village were wondering how they could get more girls under saddle for free. The thought of receiving a valuable animal at no cost from the human ranks had to be like a godsend, especially for the poorer goblins. Izzy could only hope that she hadn’t led any of the other girls from the area down this path. It wasn’t always good or right to be a trailblazer, some doors were better left closed. Without giving it a second thought, Grall tied her up outside the sweet shop, as was required of a ponygirl like Izzy, and disappeared briefly into the shop. The wait was awful, especially being secured to her breast rings in public was hideously humiliating. The light chains offered her little room for manoeuvre and pulled on her sensitive nipples with every movement. She could only stand bent forward and wait while her rider chose sweets for himself at his own whim, while only oats and water awaited her. The sun burned hot on her skin; without shade, even the best weather soon became too much. Hurry, Izzy thought, before Grall came out of the shop again. He had already taken one foot out of the door when Kreks rode past at the edge of the village with Lisande. “He’s been doing that all day,” the shopkeeper said. “You wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Poor thing. I hope he loses the fun of it soon.” Grall nodded in agreement, as did Izzy, though of course no one noticed. Only now did Izzy realise that Grall had two bags with him — she immediately straightened up a little, until the chains stopped her painfully. For a moment, she pushed the gloomy thoughts aside; two bags could really only mean one thing… “Don’t mix up the bags; otherwise you’ll only end up with sweets for ponygirls. And don’t eat too much, I’m sure your horse doesn’t want a fat rider,” shouted the salesman, and Grall got a little smaller as Izzy whinnied with laughter. She had indeed noticed that Grall had become a little chubbier due to the lack of exercise — unlike Izzy. My little chubby one, she thought, and went down on her knees even before the “Tack!”. As much as the situation annoyed her, she had been trained well. “He was joking,” Grall grumbled to Izzy, but she shook her head vigorously and poked him in the stomach with her nose. “Don’t do that!” He was obviously embarrassed, but Izzy didn’t care. After all, it was his own fault — as was the fact that her legs had become much more muscular in the meantime. It was probably only natural that horses were more trained than their riders. When she thought about it, Grall had always been a little wirier than goblins with ponygirls; but that time was probably behind him now. “If you’re not good, you don’t get a treat.” Izzy huffed angrily, but Grall just grinned and gave her two sweets at once. For a moment, they really were just horse and rider, and Izzy couldn’t deny that it almost felt right. It certainly had its good parts at the best of times, she mused, savouring the taste of the treats on her tongue as they spread around the horse’s bit and filled her whole mouth. — When they arrived at the yard, Grall tied Izzy to a post near the training area and left her there for a short time. This gave Izzy enough time to have a look around. As usual, some of the newer horses were being trained at this time: they ran behind their goblin trainers, had to trot with practice saddles or obey real riders. Some also pulled small training carts behind them. But their real attention was focussed on Titan, who was being led across the yard again. This didn’t seem to be a coincidence, Izzy realised, but part of the training. The mares were probably supposed to deliberately ignore him and concentrate on their task, and it seemed to be his job to distract them from that. Izzy, on the other hand, had enough time to have a closer look at the magnificent stallion. Titan soon realised this too, giving her all his naked attention. The goblin on his lead apparently didn’t care, and so Izzy and Titan gave each other more than a few clear glances. Perhaps the vigorous wiggling of her bum in his direction was a little too much, but his attention did her good. The unaccustomed attention of a man — even if he was a pony stallion — made her skin tingle pleasantly. Some of the ponygirls giggled at the sight of the excited Izzy, and her behaviour had not escaped the attention of a few of the trainers either. They were not alone in this. “What are you doing?” Grall shouted. “So that’s what’s going on here. And I thought you just didn’t want to be a ponygirl.” Izzy didn’t quite understand what he meant, but his voice cracked, and a look of genuine pain travelled across his face, as if she had betrayed him personally. “What do you have to say about this?” He took the bit out of her mouth. “I was only joking!” Izzy defended herself, but she had to admit to herself that she had completely forgotten about the audience for her little demonstration. Her whole body turned red. Not only that, but the other signs gave away the lie — anyone looking between her legs or at her chest could clearly see how Izzy felt about Titan. Grall’s whole body shook. “You humans have no decency. That you would trade me for a stallion…” Izzy snorted. “You want me as a horse… what do you expect? That I wait for you every day and have no life of my own without you?” “Of course not!” Grall blurted out, but some uncertainty showed in his eyes. “That’s… don’t be silly. I just don’t want anything to happen to you. This is going too far. You want to be human again, what do you want with a stallion?” “I don’t want anything from Titan. I was just joking!” But her body still betrayed her and showed the truth clearly. “You said you didn’t trust me, but now you’re lying to me. Everyone here has seen what you’ve done.” “Then there’s nothing more to talk about,” Izzy hissed. “Are you sure? If we can’t talk any more, I’ll have to treat you like any other ponygirl.” He looked her closely in the eye and waited for her response. Izzy knew he was challenging her. That wasn’t a surprise, but she wasn’t ready to back down either. He had to finally realise that this power difference was real, and had truly changed — even ended — their friendship. “Do what you have to do.” Grall bit his lower lip. “Fine, but I really don’t like doing this.” After a short sigh, he walked off, leaving Izzy with her thoughts for half an hour. Titan was back in his stables and Izzy waited agitatedly — in more ways than one — for Grall’s return. When he finally turned the corner, he had a strange metal object in his hand, visibly freshly polished, with a particularly shiny spot right in the centre. Izzy’s blood ran cold. “Are you sure we shouldn’t talk about this?” he asked again. He didn’t seem happy either, but Izzy wasn’t prepared to budge from her position. If he wanted a friendship with a ponygirl, he had to figure out how to make it work himself. Or find a better way. “You know what this is?” “A chastity belt,” Izzy grumbled, the words coming out of her lips with great difficulty. This was not a common topic for humans, but obviously for ponygirls. She looked at him challengingly. “No other horse wears one.” “Because no one minds if they get pregnant. A few more foals won’t make my father miserable. But with you, I do care.” “You could just trust me. He sighed again. “After you just lied to me? I’m not blind, I can see what’s happening here.” He nervously moved a few small stones around with his feet. “You’ve changed. You say I have too much power over you, but you’re also acting like a ponygirl — even when you don’t have to. What am I supposed to think?” Izzy avoided his gaze. He had hit a sore spot. “If I have to do this to protect you, then so be it. You might even thank me for it one day.” He swallowed, then undid the strap of the saddle, revealing what he was about to hide. A warm breeze wafted between Izzy’s legs and she guessed it would soon be a distant memory. He pressed the cold metal to her most intimate place. The tax stamp — the deepest humiliation yet in this region — was barely recognisable under the metal; any tax inspector would probably have to look extra closely, but after Izzy’s experience they certainly wouldn’t be worried. The iron pressed against her thighs and Izzy quickly realised that she would almost have to relearn how to walk with it. Once all the straps were secured, Grall stroked the metal almost lovingly, but Izzy felt nothing of it. “How long do I have to wear it?” she asked uncertainly. The feeling of the still cold metal between her legs was an unpleasant and humiliating reminder of how much freedom she had lost. “We’ll take it off you when we wash it. It’s built so you can wear it all the time otherwise.” With a deft touch, he also placed the strap of the saddle over the metal, but Izzy — almost to her displeasure — couldn’t feel it either. “But for how long?” “For as long as it takes. Until you can be human again — and I can trust you — or until I get you…” He bit his tongue and didn’t finish the sentence, but Izzy’s wide eyes told him that she understood. He was clearly not happy with this outcome either, but Izzy couldn’t and wouldn’t change that. He needed to see her problem clearly; too often he had only focussed on the positive, it was time he saw the bleaker side too, even if that meant things got worse for Izzy before they could get better. He offered her the horse bit and Izzy opened her mouth. Everything had been said anyway. — It was another night full of new experiences. The metal had warmed up in the meantime, but that didn’t change its hardness. The belt rubbed against her thighs and kept her awake for a long time until she had found a new position in which neither her tied arms nor her thighs complained. She was completely exhausted when Pexo took her out of the stable and tied her to a post using a light chain on her breast rings. Unlike the other grooms, his behaviour towards her had not changed. First he took care of her morning problems — peeing under supervision had become an everyday occurrence for Izzy — then she let him saddle her without resistance; although she did wonder where Grall wanted to ride off to so early. “Good morning,” Grall called across the arena, still slightly sleepy, and Izzy’s jaw dropped. “You want to ride me to school?” she tried to say through the bit, but little more than mumbling and neighing came out. Grall was wearing his finest school uniform, a backpack full of books and shoes with detachable spurs. “Of course,” she chided herself in her mind, his holidays were over too, and she had made it clear herself that she was his horse in the current circumstances. So why shouldn’t he ride her there; she had only herself to blame for that. “Do I look all right?” he asked playfully, turning in front of her so quickly that his backpack lifted off his back. “A new uniform, for all students who ride a horse.” Izzy tilted her head. The uniform looked good on him, only the spurs weren’t to her taste. “How was the night with the belt?” Izzy just neighed. “You’ll get used to it. When you’re ready to talk to me, I’ll be there for you. Mostly on your back.” He winked, but Izzy just lifted her nose in the air and ignored him. He looked at her expectantly, and Izzy clearly realised that despite everything, he still didn’t quite understand what her problem was. He took the bit out of Izzy’s mouth, which still made Pexo visibly uncomfortable. Talking horses were certainly unusual — almost unnatural — for all goblins. “You really don’t want to understand, do you? “There are only two ways: I can make free decisions about myself again, or I trust you so much that I can live with you having so much power over me. Neither is true right now. Or do you think a chastity belt is a sign of trust?” Grall was clearly not satisfied, but he put the horse bit back in her mouth and climbed into her saddle after a “tack”. After a kick with the spurs, she ran off. “You’ll see, I’ll find a way to make you happy.” Izzy whinnied ambiguously. — The chastity belt took some getting used to for Izzy, riding with a piece of metal between her legs was a wholly new — and wholly unwelcome — experience. The metal demanded her full attention with every step; although the iron was quite narrow, it was wide enough that Izzy had to change her gait to avoid rubbing. Grall stopped her at a small crossroads. She looked over her shoulder, but his gaze was fixed on a gate at the end of the path that stood slightly open. Nothing happened for a few minutes, then Mexi came riding out unsteadily on an elegant mare. This surprised Izzy — and probably Grall too — as Mexi had told them that Izzy was her first horse. The ponygirl’s skin and hair were the colour of light limestone, while the straps and saddle were midnight black. It was a handsome contrast that lent the animal a touch of elegance, which was emphasised by her feather-light gait. Against this horse, Izzy felt almost like a pack mule, but of course, she knew that goblins held their ponies to different standards than humans would. “What are you doing here?” Mexi asked shyly, beaming at him. “Have you been waiting for me?” She leant forward and stroked Izzy’s head affectionately, who was happy to oblige. As unhappy as Izzy was with her situation, at least Grall seemed to have good taste in Mexi. The girl had always been kind to her — you can always tell a good character by the way someone treats animals, Izzy thought bashfully. “That was just a coincidence.” He winked. “Actually, I was going to offer you a ride on Buttercup, but I doubt that’s necessary any more.” Mexi smiled sheepishly. “Albaea was my aunt’s; I’ve known her for a long time, but I’ve never dared to ride her before, but we always got on well. My aunt was so happy that I finally started riding, she gave me Albaea straight away!” “She’s gorgeous!” said Grall. The ponygirl neighed contentedly and Grall stroked her cheek. “Is she fast?” “Find out!” Mexi spurred her mare on and rode off. She was clearly not a skilful rider, she let the reins hang down and did her best not to fall out of the saddle. Grall gave Izzy a little kick and rode off after her. Mexi’s pony was fast, but she was no challenge for Izzy, as she quickly realised; good looks weren’t everything. Grall kept Izzy level with Mexi. “We still have some time, shall we go down to the river?” “You ride ahead,” said Mexi, which Grall was happy to do. It was better that way, as Albaea could simply follow them while Mexi continued to cling to the saddle. Grall spurred Izzy on and steered her along a narrow path between the trees that led through the dense undergrowth to a small branch of the wide river. It was a quiet spot, with a tiny beach extending right into the riverbed. A few frogs sat among the reeds, croaking at each other and the new visitors. Grall jumped off Izzy and wordlessly tied her to a tree with a tight knot, as if she would otherwise run away from him. Izzy rolled her eyes, but Grall just shrugged his shoulders. Mexi did the same to Grall and secured Albaea to a branch; the horse hardly seemed to notice, she looked around with wide eyes — whether leaf or bird, everything was examined closely and with great curiosity. It was almost cute, Izzy thought. Albaea must be a little older than Izzy, but she still seemed innocent, almost childishly naive. “Don’t look at me like that,” Grall whispered to Izzy. “That’s what you wanted.” Before he could say anything else, Mexi’s voice struck him like a slap in the face. “What have you done to Buttercup?” the girl asked indignantly, stroking Izzy’s sore bottom gently. “That’s cruel!” She shoved Grall into the dirt, and Izzy immediately liked her an extra bit more for it. “Tell me that wasn’t you!” Grall bowed his head, embarrassed. “Unfortunately, I did. Buttercup nearly kicked a groom. I didn’t mean to, but my father — or rather, the grooms — insisted.” “Rubbish, ponygirls aren’t so stupid that you have to whip them so cruelly. That’s pure barbarism!” Mexi’s horse agreed vigorously. “You’re right, I’ll never allow it again!” Grall defended himself. “She’ll officially be mine in a few days, then I can protect her.” Izzy neighed. That may have been true, but it actually made the problem between them worse, and Grall still didn’t seem to fully understand. “You don’t have to promise that to me,” Mexi barked, “but to your horse.” He nodded slowly. “I already have. She knows I won’t allow it again. But this punishment has broken things between us. It’s going to take time for us to trust each other again and be friends once more.” He avoided Izzy’s gaze, who was listening carefully. Mexi raised an eyebrow. “You’re really friends with your horse?” There was nothing malicious in that question, Izzy realised with relief, but a genuine wonder. After all, she had seen that Grall had treated her like any other horse so far. No doubt many goblins loved their animals, but friendship was probably unthinkable — and by now Izzy quite understood why it was seen that way. Grall seemed relieved at the change of subject. “She was my best friend until very recently, but I’ll find a way to make it up to her. Ponygirl or not, she means a lot to me.” He smiled at Izzy, whose stone-cold shell around her heart melted a little. “Maybe you’re right. After all, some ponygirls used to be human, and some of them are quite clever.” Her ponygirl neighed in agreement and Mexi laughed. “Albaea, you’re my favourite in the world, but as a breeding pony, you don’t know anything about this sort of thing.” Albaea snorted playfully, gave her rider a kiss and let her mistress scratch her head. “You have a beautiful horse. Does it come from the Far East? I’ve heard that these white horses are specially bred there.” “That’s true. She was very expensive, her breeding pedigree goes back over a dozen generations. Your Buttercup is a stunning ponygirl, how can she be so perfect but not be bred?” Izzy’s ears turned red at this praise. “She also comes from a long breeding line, her mother was the ponygirl of a king,” explained Grall proudly. “Her father is a free man. You could say I snagged a priceless pony for free.” He stuck his tongue out cheekily at Izzy, who responded to this provocation with feigned arrogance. She lifted her nose as high into the sky as her tied reins would allow. “Come on, I didn’t pay anything for you, did I?” She playfully nudged him aside with her broad bum. What else could she do, he was right after all. She was — she knew this by now — a valuable ponygirl, and she had simply put herself at his mercy for nothing. “Come on, let’s go to the water.” With that, the two left their ponygirls by the tree. Being left behind like this would probably never become normal for Izzy; but she was, after all, just an animal that should — even had to — wait for her rider. She looked after the boisterous goblins thoughtfully. A wild storm still raged in her head; despite the anger, it felt good that her — former — friend had found someone so well suited to him; but at the same time, here she was, tied to a tree, and if this were her future, she wouldn’t be able to share that happiness. No boy would court her, give her a kiss or take her somewhere so romantic. Not that Izzy had hoped for anything like that to happen before; her daydreams of Bastian were never more than that: dreams. Although, nothing would happen with the damn chastity belt anyway until its owner allowed it. In her mind’s eye, she could already see herself tied to a hard rack while a stallion pleasured himself to his heart’s content. This was not the kind of romance she had always dreamed of, and yet it might well happen, the metal between her legs left no doubt about that. A pleasant warmth spread through her lower body. She hurriedly tried to push the thought aside, but it wasn’t as easy as she had hoped, partly because the memory of Grall’s rough fingers and how they had felt between her legs came back to her mind instead. A ponygirl had a lot of time to think, Izzy realised, and cursed the reins for it. Grall and Mexi rolled down the beach — already stripped to their underwear — intertwined and tumbled into the water laughing. Their mouths appeared to be fused. Neither of them seemed to be bothered by the fact that two girls tied to a tree were watching them. But why should they mind being seen by their animals, humans showed no shame in front of their cats. “That was nice,” Mexi purred and lay down on the beach, but something didn’t seem right. “What’s wrong?” asked Grall, overprotective. “Have you been hurt? “No, but there are lots of small stones in the sand.” Her green lover looked around frantically; Grall was probably afraid that their brief snogging would end abruptly if he couldn’t find a blanket or something similar. His search became more and more desperate, and Izzy could only roll her eyes: he was really ill-prepared, and if he didn’t try, his fun would be over quickly. She would kick his ass with her hooves if he messed up with Mexi. She watched him for a moment, then she had an idea. She neighed loudly, but Grall waved her off. She continued neighing and kicked the tree so hard that an acorn fell and landed on Grall’s head. “Ouch! Stop that,” he hissed and stomped over to Izzy. “What do you want, I’m busy.” He took the horse bit from her mouth. “You’re the clumsiest boy in the world,” she whispered in his ear. “Untie me, I have an idea.” “Where do you get a blanket from?” He didn’t have to emphasise the “you” so much, Izzy understood perfectly well that she was just a ponygirl. Izzy sighed, “What have I done to deserve you. Untie me and lead the way.” He put the horse bit back in her mouth and led her cluelessly to the bank, but his face immediately brightened when Izzy lay down on her back next to Mexi and looked at her invitingly. “Oh! I mean…” he grinned sheepishly, “if you’d take a seat, please?” He held out a hand to Mexi and pointed invitingly at Izzy’s breasts. “You mean you want me to lie on her?” Mexi asked uncertainly. Grall half threw himself onto Izzy — who was slightly breathless — and pulled Mexi towards him with vigour. “You’re pretty bold,” Mexi whispered, looking him straight in the eye as they both rested their heads on one of Izzy’s breasts. It was a strange sight for her to see the two goblins gazing lovingly at each other while lying on her stomach, but there was also something strangely beautiful about it. The love between the two was so fresh and pure that it warmed Izzy’s heart even in this odd situation. However, she also hoped that nothing more would happen; despite the warm feeling in her stomach, she didn’t want to become their love nest. The two goblins lay on their backs and, holding hands and with their heads softly cushioned, looked up through the treetops into the morning sky. The forest was already wide awake and life was celebrating its daily dance above their heads. It was a beautiful spectacle, Izzy had to admit. The two goblins were light, and the sand was by no means hard for them; Mexi had probably exaggerated a little to give Grall a chance to be gallant, Izzy surmised. Clever girl. “Will that work with Albaea?” Mexi asked dreamily, but the pony neighed discontentedly. “It’s not for every ponygirl, but it’s fine with Buttercup. She’s plump enough that her bones don’t poke you and she’s very well-behaved.” Izzy was about to snort, but there was nothing malicious or spiteful in his voice. It was just an observation, and it was true. Grall looked at his watch. “It’s time to get going.” The two goblins were dry by now and slipped into their clothes — although Grall accidentally pulled up Mexi’s dress first, much to the amusement of the other three. “I’ll get Albaea,” Grall offered, but Mexi only whistled briefly. Her pony pulled on the reins, which immediately loosened. “You haven’t tied her up?” “Why should I, she won’t run away. She likes to be with me. Don’t you trust Buttercup?” Grall scratched his head. Izzy could clearly see him struggling with an answer. “My father requires her to be secured at all times,” was his only explanation in the end, but Izzy knew he had evaded the question. “Then I guess your father doesn’t know anything about ponygirls after all; dealer or not. But that’s to be expected, you deal with so many ponygirls that you never really get to know them. But Buttercup is your own ponygirl. Look her in the eye and you’ll know what she’s thinking. She’d never run away without a good reason. Right, Buttercup?” Mexi rummaged in her bag and pulled out a small packet of the treats and Izzy ate it from the flat of her hand faster than Mexi could shout stop. “You’re pretty greedy, no wonder you’re so soft.” Albaea hadn’t missed the scene either, she stomped around jealously. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten you, you little brat,” joked Mexi, throwing one of the sweets in a high arc to her mare, who caught the sweet elegantly — and despite the horse’s teeth — in flight. Izzy watched the spectacle with wide eyes; she couldn’t have done it. It wasn’t easy not to feel like a clumsy mule afterwards, Izzy had to admit to herself, but Albaea’s disarming grin dispelled any envy. “We’d better hurry or we’ll be too late,” Mexi adjusted her dress, which Grall’s hands had really messed up, and climbed into the saddle. “I bet I’m faster at school,” Grall quipped, urging Izzy on, but he whispered in her ear, “Please let her win.” Izzy nodded slightly and took off running, but not so fast that Albaea couldn’t keep up. Stupid, stupid bet The goblins’ school was hidden by a small hill behind the forest on the edge of the village; it was a flat building made of mud bricks and an old thatched roof that blended in nicely with the landscape. A low hedge framed the school grounds and also enclosed a stable and a couple of sheds belonging to the school. “You’re doing well,” Grall praised Izzy, who didn’t have much trouble keeping close behind Albaea. The bred pony was visibly excited and pleased to be in the lead in this little race. With every other stride, she took a small jump, which of course only slowed her down. Luckily for Izzy, Grall also refrained from using the whip, but he didn’t want to win anyway; nevertheless, it was a relief for her battered bottom to get a little break. The main gate was on the other side of the school grounds, and Izzy followed Albaea down the hill. They had almost reached the bottom when a loudly screaming Kreks whizzed past them. “You’re too slow, Grall!” he shouted, spurring Lisande on with hard blows. One of the blows hit Izzy on the rump as she rode past, who howled angrily. “I’ll show you!” He kicked Izzy in the side, who immediately took off running. As soon as she started moving, she was hit with the first blow of the riding whip, motivating her to gallop faster — the time for recovery was over. She stormed past Albaea and took up the chase. “Faster. We’ll catch him!” But that was easier said than done; Kreks had a good head start and the path was narrow and ran close to the hedge. Small branches protruded and cut open Izzy’s arm. They were rounding the last bend when it happened: a mole had dug a hole in the ground, and Izzy stumbled halfway into it. She was lucky to avoid a fall, but her foot twisted painfully despite the sturdy pony boot. Izzy groaned and Grall immediately jumped out of the saddle. “Calm down, Buttercup, let me have a look first,” he said, feeling her leg through the boot. Izzy whimpered at the touch. “Nothing seems to be broken. We just need to take it easy on you and I’m sure it will heal soon.” He led Izzy by her reins into the school grounds. They were both limping. “You can rest for the next few hours. We’ll have a closer look when we get home.” Izzy gave him a dirty look, but then she nodded. There was nothing more they could do anyway. “It wouldn’t have happened with a real rider,” Biscuit sneered patronisingly. He obviously had no sympathy for Izzy’s pain. “That wasn’t a fair race, you had a head start.” Grall gritted his teeth. “She’s wasted on you. Now she’s even limping because of you,” Kreks sneered. His voice left no doubt that he still didn’t really care about Izzy. Through it all, he held the whip in his hand and, even standing up, slapped Lisande’s butt if she moved too much. Izzy’s eyes burned with anger. “Look how well I’ve already trained Lisande, soon I’ll be doing the same with Buttercup.” Lisande looked pleadingly at Izzy, who was almost heartbroken. Kreks looked mockingly at Izzy’s bottom. “Have you finally understood how to train an animal? Perhaps you’re not a lost cause after all.“ Izzy growled angrily, but unfortunately that didn’t impress Kreks. Mexi had also arrived by now and pushed her way between the arguing boys. A fiery glare met Grall’s eyes. “You wanted to let me win. I know Buttercup is fast, you didn’t have to trick me.” Grall blushed. “No, I just wanted to ride with you for a bit. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?” “Don’t ever do that again, or else…” said Mexi and rode past him. Albaea also snorted angrily, which seemed rather comical in her case. It was hard to take offence at the white mare. Saxea, who had so far kept to the background with Sunshine, trotted up slowly. “What a disaster,” she mocked. “Do you like her? Admit it, you’re in love!” The little goblin girl grinned and winked at Izzy, but Grall just rolled his eyes. Until now, Izzy hadn’t thought about the fact that Saxea had to go to this school too — but it made sense, there was only one goblin school in the neighbourhood after all. Like Izzy, Sunshine seemed a little nervous, after all, it was also her first ride to school as a horse. The two nodded knowingly to each other, waiting anxiously to see what happened next. A goblin teacher with big glasses and a walking stick came out of the school, ringing a small bell in his hand. “Come in quickly. Tie the ponygirls to the post, the caretaker will look after your animals.” The pupils tethered their horses as instructed, with Grall briefly informing the caretaker of Izzy’s problem. “Nice horse,” a boy called out to Grall. “So it’s true, you’re finally riding. Congratulations!” Several other goblins also looked at Izzy, Sunshine and Albaea with interest before the teacher herded them into the school with a broom. Apparently, new horses were not common, and three in one day was probably very unusual. Yet, Izzy would have gladly done without the attention, it still made her nervous when new goblins only saw her as an animal — even if it was true. The beginning of the first lesson not only marked the start of a new school day, it was also the dawn of a whole new day for Izzy. While the children of all ages studied hard for their future, she and the other twenty ponygirls would have to wait for their riders until the end of school. Izzy guessed that it was a daily routine for most of the ponygirls, but for her, it was unfamiliar, and it wouldn’t be long before it became a mind-numbing routine for her too. The caretaker turned out to be a petite, wrinkled and, above all, stone-aged goblin, who walked towards them bent over with a short walking stick. Izzy watched him with interest as he took the first horse. He seemed to be well-experienced, as his first move was to bandage the ponygirl’s legs — making escape unlikely. He took the horse with him and led it into the stable. Soon most of the other ponygirls had gone — including Sunshine and Albaea — and it took a while before it was Izzy’s turn. That gave her enough time to have a closer look at the school building. It was an old building, older than her own former school, and had no glass windows, but there were shutters to protect the students and teachers from the weather. Thanks to the glorious sunshine, all the shutters were wide open, allowing Izzy an intimate view into one of the classrooms. The floor was made of solid clay — as always, the goblins loved to be directly connected to nature — and the students were perched on small mounds of earth with their writing utensils right on their laps. They sat in a large circle and the teacher stood in the centre and told them about the cities of the humans. Most of the students listened with interest, but Grall only seemed to have eyes for Mexi. His chin was propped up on his arm and he stared at her without blinking, which some other students commented on relentlessly. Izzy rolled her eyes; once this boy was obsessed with a girl, he forgot everything else in the world. Her stomach clenched, and a thousand emotions swirled around in her head. Anger, joy, jealousy, hatred, love… how many thoughts could one actually feel for a single goblin? The whip, the chastity belt, the night in the stables, his mischievous grin, the rough fingers and the realisation that he was meant for Mexi and not her… Izzy sighed. The shackles on her legs dragged Izzy back to reality. The caretaker untied her reins and led her slowly into the dark stable with small steps, careful not to strain her aching leg. Once there, he untied her leg restraints, opened her pony boot and applied a little ointment to the joint. “Don’t put too much weight on it, it’ll take a few days to heal. Don’t look at me so surprised, I know you’re not a bred pony. You’re a girl from the village, I recognise you. Strange to see you here now, but we’ll take good care of you, don’t be afraid.” Izzy nodded gratefully, yet she felt horribly uncomfortable that she had been recognised once again. She lifted her gaze and looked around after her eyes had adjusted to the dimness. The stable was a small building with barely enough room for all the ponygirls. The windows were small, and the roof was low. It was not a nice place, especially not as pleasant as the classroom, and to make matters worse, although he took off her saddle — under which her hands were now additionally tied as usual — Izzy was now, like all ponygirls, almost completely naked. Only her chastity belt gave her some privacy, and she was almost grateful for this terrible construct. There was some food and water in a corner, but as the horse bit remained in — as did the ponytail — eating and drinking wasn’t much fun. But Izzy had another goal, and it was already looking at her for help. Lisande was waiting at a window and neighed with relief when Izzy pressed against her. Shaking hands was out of the question anyway, even a normal conversation was impossible. But they both knew what it was all about: Kreks and the suffering that Lisande had to endure at his hands. Sunshine also joined them and gave Lisande a friendly nudge. Despite the horse bits in their mouths, they soon found a common language of neighs, deep looks and the occasional letter that they drew in the straw with their hooves. It turned out that Lisande’s reality was even worse than Izzy had feared. Her stall was tiny and bitterly cold at night, plus Kreks’ riding gear was deliberately uncomfortable and his riding style harsh and cruel. It was obvious he wasn’t just trying to make her compliant; his aim was to break her completely. Lisande begged Izzy in every way she could to help her, but what could a ponygirl do but feel pity? It was the fate of horses to be at the mercy of their owners and riders. Another thought slowly but relentlessly crept into Izzy’s mind: despite everything that had happened, she had been very lucky with her owner — the thought still felt wrong — after all. Grall was young and wild — and he often didn’t think before he acted — but he never acted out of cruelty. The whip was unwelcome to Izzy, but even she recognised how useful it often was, but apart from that, he cared for her lovingly. And yet, above all, he was now her owner, or soon would be officially; and her rider, who had once been her friend. The remaining ponygirls spread out in the communal stable and dozed off standing or sitting. Izzy marvelled at this ability to completely surrender to doing nothing, but she quickly became bored. She looked out of the only window and watched the birds in the trees as time passed at a snail’s pace. Only Albaea provided some diversion. She kept joining Lisande, Sunshine and Izzy like a playful puppy, where she was often completely blind to when she was interrupting. She seemed to have chosen Izzy as her new big sister and absolutely nothing could change that. Sunshine in particular seemed deeply irritated by the bred pony; her naive playfulness didn’t fit in at all with Sunshine’s rather rebellious nature, who accepted her life as a ponygirl, but certainly didn’t view it with the same devotion as the snow-white ponygirl did. Sunshine always turned away from her, but Albaea seemed to see this as a game and gave the grumbling mare even more of her undivided and highly energetic attention. — The school break brought new life to the courtyard. The goblin students fled noisily from the actually very nice classrooms and filled the courtyard like a green plague with laughter, teasing and a real playfulness that Izzy wouldn’t have expected from them. Grall also came storming out with Mexi, but Kreks was hot on their heels. “Leave us alone!” hissed Grall. Izzy pricked up her ears. “Not until you’ve listened to me!” Kreks snapped, grabbing Grall roughly by the shoulder. “What’s so bad about a race? Are you afraid you’ll lose?” Mexi crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Get lost, Kreks, we want to be among ourselves.” “You can smooch around later,” said Kreks — and Saxea, who was listening to everything from a safe distance, giggled. “Still, I’m right. Lisande has only just become a riding horse, but thanks to me, she’s already faster than Buttercup. You wouldn’t stand a chance.” Grall wiped Kreks hand off his shoulder and put his arm around Mexi instead. “Too bad we’ll never find out.” He led Mexi to the stable and they stood in its shadow, right under the window. It wasn’t a visit to Izzy, she quickly realised, the house only provided a good cover — but she still listened carefully. “He’s a really annoying idiot sometimes.” “That’s what people say about you too.” “Only the people who know me.” Grall sniggered. “Why is it so important to him who’s faster?” Mexi rolled her eyes. “Ignore him, he just wants to tease you. He’s jealous, that’s all. Don’t you have more important things to do?” Grall looked at her confused, then he understood. Izzy turned away, she wanted to give them some privacy, even if they both didn’t care. Albaea was less restrained, she pushed Izzy aside and watched her master unabashedly and free of any shame. Izzy regarded her thoughtfully; had mum always been as much of an animal as Albaea, or was this an outlier? What did such a long breeding line do to a human like her — or even herself? A loud shout from Lidea across the yard separated the two, obviously to Grall’s displeasure. Izzy headed for the window and neighed until Grall opened the window wider and took the horse bit from her mouth. “We can’t talk here, I can’t speak to my horse here,” he reminded her. “Thanks for reminding me, I’d totally forgotten about that. I wondered why they put a ponytail up my butt!” Izzy explained sarcastically. “Listen, we have to do something for Lisande. She can’t stay with Kreks, he’s cruel!” Lisande agreed, whinnying, and Sunshine nodded too. Albaea stood a little further back in the stable; it was obvious that she was uncomfortable with a horse-to-rider conversation. “That’s not possible, she belongs to Kreks, or rather his father. I don’t like what he’s doing either, but there’s nothing I can do.” “You’d better think of something. You said I could trust you. Prove it. Show me that you really care about a tortured ponygirl. Earn my trust,” she said brusquely. Albaea neighed uncertainly, she was probably not used to an animal making demands — that was even worse than speaking. Her hooves trampled nervously on the straw floor, and her eyes were as big as tea plates. The little greenling was silent for a while before finding an answer. “That’s not fair of you.” He was right about that, Izzy knew that too, but the wretched sight of Lisande did not leave her heart untouched. “Well, I’ll see what I can do. But I can’t promise you anything. What he’s doing is legal.” Lisande stood next to the window and sobbed a little. “Promise me you’ll take it seriously.” “Is it really that important to you?” asked Grall. “Absolutely. No matter what it takes, you have to help her.” “I promise you!” With that, he put the horse bit back in Izzy’s mouth, stroked her and Lisande’s cheek once — and ruffled Albaea’s hair, who whinnied and fought her way to the window — and closed the window. Only Sunshine had stayed in the background; Izzy had often noticed that she only accepted Saxea, while the other goblins were still not very popular with her. Grall walked around the school, visibly thoughtful, and Izzy realised with a grumble that he hadn’t even asked about her leg. — The rest of the school day was as boring as the first half. While the students concentrated on their lessons, the ponygirls had nothing to do but wait. The sun was already high in the sky before the caretaker struggled to push open the old stable door. The weathered wood swept aside the loose straw and fresh air flooded the small, stuffy room. Izzy was standing in a corner with Sunshine, Lisande and Albaea; the four of them were dozing peacefully, leaning against each other and blinking at the bright light coming in. The caretaker took one of the ponygirls out at a time, saddled them up and tied them again in front of the school so that the students could ride home. That was what the ponygirls were there for after all; it was their purpose to be a means of transport for the students, that was the only reason they were here in the first place. It was still a strange thought for Izzy, partly because it made her own time seem so insignificant. Waiting for hours so that a child had to spend a few minutes less on the way to school seemed utterly silly to her, and yet it was the reality of this place. Albaea was jumping around so excitedly that the caretaker gave her priority treatment, followed later by a very unhappy Lisande, Sunshine and finally Izzy, whose leg was still hurting. The teacher opened the door and let the students out. One by one they jumped down the small staircase; most of them ran from the yard on foot, while others mounted their horses and rode off. Saxea also ran to Sunshine, both greeting each other with an affectionate kiss on the nose. Only Mexi and Grall were nowhere to be seen, instead Izzy heard a loud discussion from the door. Before she fully understood what was going on, Kreks flew down the stairs. He had a black eye and was rubbing his head, but he quickly picked himself up and seemed ready for a fight. His small fists were aimed at Grall, who was standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at him with a burning gaze. “You’re a coward, Grall,” the other boy shouted. “And you’ve got a big mouth, but I’ll shut it if you don’t stop!” hissed Grall with clenched fists, Mexi barely able to stop him from jumping down to Kreks. “Besides, it’s not about that stupid bet. You should stop telling your lies!” “It’s not a lie, I’m sure of it. We can all see the way you look at her. And she looks at you. No, there’s something going on between you and Buttercup!” Izzy stomped off in horror, Grall had also turned red again. The remaining ponygirls — apart from Albaea and Lisande — neighed in disgust at Izzy, who gave them a dirty look in return. Even Sunshine grimaced, even though she stayed silent. “I would never touch an animal like that!” shouted Grall. That was the truth, Izzy knew, unless he was forced to, but the disgust with which he had said it was still hurtful. Did he really feel that way, or was it the accusation of breaking such a well-known taboo that he was so angry about? It was considered unthinkable among the goblins to have an intimate relationship with a human, especially a ponygirl; still, it was one thing to know a rule, but quite another to have it thrown at you with such fervour. He turned his head briefly towards Izzy and his gaze softened. There was something apologetic in his eyes. “There’s that look again! Disgusting. Prove she’s really just an animal to you and get in on the bet!” “Shut up, Kreks, my brother’s not like that,” Saxea hissed from Sunshine’s saddle. She clearly towered over the older goblin boy, but he seemed unimpressed. “You have no clue! Are you telling me they’re never alone? Has he ever slept in her stable?” “Yes, but…” Saxea stuttered. Izzy swallowed. She had hoped that no one on the farm had noticed. “There you have it. Grall, what do you say?” shouted Kreks. A mean grin split his face in two ugly halves. Mexi stroked Grall’s arm gently, but he was still looking at Izzy, and Izzy at him. Their eyes kept meeting and there was something about it that Izzy didn’t like. What was he up to? It was obvious to her that he was struggling with a decision; what was he thinking about? “I don’t have to prove anything to you. And to no one else here!” Grall finally shouted. His gaze briefly jumped to Lisande, then he said more calmly. “Buttercup is my horse, and she means a lot to me, but what Kreks says is a lie. But I’ll take the bet. After this, you’ll never talk such bullshit again!” “When it’s over, my lips are sealed. I promise!” Kreks pulled at his ears, which among goblins was considered a sign of an important oath, even if it looked very silly to Izzy. Kreks really meant it. That sealed the deal. Grall gave Mexi a kiss on the cheek as he went past and ran wordlessly to Izzy. He loosened her reins, jumped into the saddle after a “Tack!” and gave her the spurs before Mexi could say anything. Izzy limped from the yard, but Grall hardly seemed to notice. Although he spared her the crop, his shaky hands roughly guided the reins as he kept giving her the spurs. Something was very wrong, Izzy realised, but what had just happened? Why had Kreks claimed this nonsense, and what was this ominous bet? It was only after five minutes — they were already deep in the forest — that he stopped, clumsily climbed out of the saddle and ordered her with a weak “Zhrak!” to kneel in a waiting position, which she did out of instinct. Izzy watched him confused. She, too, was trembling at the accusations — and also because she herself was still unsure how she really felt about Grall — but something about him was different. Grall had leant against a rotten tree and began to sob terribly. Tears ran down his face. A deep pain ran through Izzy’s heart: her — former — best friend was sitting so close and crying, but she couldn’t help him; their roles in life were like a wedge between them. She would have loved to comfort him — despite all the trouble of the last few days — but with her arms under the saddle, she couldn’t even hug him. With a ponytail up her butt, she was probably not made for comforting a goblin, she thought bitterly. Above all, she was puzzled by her own calmness — it was she who was the animal waiting for her rider, yet he seemed helpless and vulnerable in this situation. Was that a sign of strength, or had she already distanced herself so far from him that his tears no longer touched her as much as they used to? She shook her head slowly. No, it wasn’t that. Even if she hardly admitted it to herself, she was actually upset too; it was more of a deep tension that made her almost silent — but she felt that could change at any moment. After a particularly loud sob, he wiped his face dry. “I did something stupid,” he said in a brittle voice. “Kreks really wanted to have a race. Him against me, you against Lisande. I didn’t want to, but he started telling his lies.” Izzy lifted her head and snorted angrily. She didn’t want to become part of a stupid bet, or race for the entertainment of goblins. She felt the tension turn to anger. What was he thinking! Grall, you’re an idiot, she thought. She couldn’t tell him through the horse bit, but no doubt her eyes revealed her thoughts all too clearly. Grall lowered his head and gulped. “That wasn’t all,” he whispered, turning away as if he could no longer look her in the eye. “It wasn’t a normal bet, there was a stake too. I didn’t really want to do it, but then I thought about what you said about Lisande and… I wasn’t really thinking it through. He knew exactly how to make me angry. He set a trap for me and I walked right into it. The worst part is that I forgot about your leg. I was so sure you were going to win…” Slowly, Izzy’s anger gave way to deep concern. It wasn’t the first time Grall had made a stupid mistake, but it had never made him cry so much. It had to be something bad, and she guessed the answer to the unasked question even before he opened his mouth again. But she had to hear it from him. She formed a word around the horse bit with her lips. He nodded slowly. “We bet on Lisande.” He shivered. “And on you. The winner gets both horses.” Izzy neighed and jumped up. Her leg protested, but she ignored it. She tried to say something, and finally Grall took the horse bit out of her mouth. “You dumbass, you should be helping Lisande, not surrendering me to Kreks!” hissed Izzy shrilly. “Besides, I don’t belong to you, I belong to your father. You have to cancel the bet, I can’t win with my damaged leg.” “I can’t do that, everyone has heard that I’ve accepted. For my father, bets are sacred. Once made, they must be honoured. He’ll punish me severely if I lose you, but he’ll give you up anyway. You know how he is. He loves you, but he also sees you as a ponygirl and will do what he thinks is right. I’ve held it against him that you don’t sell family, so you can imagine his reaction when I tell him now that I bet you.” Izzy bit her lip. She had wanted to help Lisande, and once again her willingness to help had blown up in her face. Maybe she should stop trying to help others, Izzy thought, but she knew all too well that it was probably just too much in her horse’s blood. She turned pale and slumped down into the moss. “What happens next? “We’ll ride home and get you ready. The race is in three days, so we don’t have much time. We have to concentrate on your leg. Remember, if we win, you’ll both be safe.” He was about to climb back into her saddle, but Izzy turned away from him and stayed seated. “Tack!” he said irritably. Izzy shook her head. “Not so fast. There’s something else we need to talk about. I mean, what Kreks said…” Now it was Izzy’s turn to gulp loudly. Grall avoided her gaze. “You want to know if I love you?” Izzy noticed his cheeks blush and she unconsciously did the same. “Do you?” “Of course!” he said without hesitation, but he didn’t look her in the face. Something was wrong, Izzy realised. She waited impatiently until he finally continued: “I love you, with all my heart. More than a goblin has ever loved a ponygirl — or a human. But… it’s not that particular kind of love — that way I love Mexi. You’re…” “A pet?” asked Izzy, immediately hurt, though he hadn’t even implied that. “No, it’s different.” “Like a sister?” Izzy asked, and the tremor in her own voice didn’t escape her either. “Not like my stupid sister either,” he replied, grinning again. His red eyes were a stark contrast to that. “Of course, I love Saxea, but it’s different with you.” He was visibly desperate to find the right words. “In the end, doesn’t it matter how I love you? You are important to me. You have always been. I’d go to hell and back for you if I had to. And you, do you love me after everything that’s happened?” Izzy knew this question had to come, but she had no answer. She dusted off the deepest corners of her soul, dug into hidden depths that she herself had almost forgotten, and looked at more than one precious memory from a new perspective, but nowhere was the answer to be found. So she had no choice but to listen to her heart. “You’re… I think I’m…” she paused for a moment. “You’re the only goblin I’ll ever love.” It wasn’t an easy answer for her, but it was the truth. “But… I guess you can’t give me what I need.” She nudged him as he laughed filthily. “That’s not what I mean! Well, not just… but I need a human, I guess. Or maybe not, it’s all so confusing.” Grall exhaled deeply and sat down next to Izzy in the moss. “So you’re not jealous about Mexi then?” “Hell no! She’s the best thing that’s happened to you in a long time!” She gave him a little bump with her head that almost made him roll off the moss. “You’re right, I’m very lucky with you two. I’m marrying Mexi, and you’re getting my brand.” He stuck his tongue out at her teasingly, knowing exactly how she would react. “Careful, don’t take it too far. But if you don’t love me like that, what’s with the chastity belt? I thought you were jealous of Titan.” “Maybe I am,” he admitted to her surprise. “But you really have changed. It’s just to protect you. There’s no evil thought behind it, that’s the truth. Are we friends again now? After all, we’ve just confessed our love for each other.” But to his disappointment, Izzy shook her head. “I guess love is sometimes illogical and painful. I’m not ready to be friends again yet. Not as long as you still have so much power over me. You know I’m right, you just bet me!” Her voice had become sharper, and Grall bowed his head. “When the race is over, everything will change. You’ll see, I’m a man of my word. We’ll win and free Lisande — then we’ll finally be friends again.” “But first you go to Mexi and tell her that you love her. I swear to you, if you mess up with her, I’ll kick you to the mainland!” “You’re right, I should show my love more clearly.” He leaned forward and gave Izzy an intense and long kiss on the mouth. Only his tongue held back, but his rough lips pressed tightly against hers. She looked puzzled into his eyes after the kiss. “What was that about?” she asked uncertainly. Everything had seemed clear until just now, and now she was as confused as she had been at the beginning. “So that you never forget how much you mean to me.” He smiled warmly and licked his lips. “I just have to find a way to explain all this to her. You’re sure you can live with the fact that I love Mexi?” She grinned broadly. “She’s nice — much nicer than you, actually — and a good match for you. Hopefully, I’ll find someone who suits me that well, too.” His taste lingered on her lips. “A nice stallion, perhaps?” joked Grall, but Izzy just rolled her eyes, yet she didn’t refute him. This was not what she imagined love to be, but the thought alone had an effect on her. Apart from that, it was good to have spoken to Grall. Her problem was not solved, but the certainty that Grall felt so much for her gave her a feeling of security. Especially because she believed him without any doubt. He wasn’t fooling her, she knew that; he wasn’t perfect, but who is, Izzy thought, and let him climb into the saddle. For a moment, the future seemed brighter again, but then she thought of the bet, and the dark clouds gathered on the horizon once more. In three days’ time, her future would be decided. Either a friend would be waiting for her afterwards to help her regain some freedom, or Kreks would show her the darker side of life as a ponygirl. — Back at the farm, Pexo lovingly tended to Izzy’s leg. It was swollen, but the medicine eased the pain. Nevertheless, the race was close and it was foreseeable that she would not be fully recovered by then. In full health, she would no doubt have left Lisande far behind, but now that was no longer so certain. That evening, Izzy heard Oozol shouting at his son half the night for this stupidity, although he was probably more concerned with business than with Izzy. He obviously wasn’t a big fan of his son losing a ponygirl on a bet, especially one as valuable as herself. But for Izzy, it wasn’t about money, it was about her freedom — her whole future. But it wasn’t just her freedom that was at stake, she also had to be strong for Lisande. If she won, they would both be safe, but if she lost, they would face a bleak future together. — Izzy stood in her stable and thought hard — the night was still young, and the sun had only just disappeared behind the mountains — when she heard soft footsteps outside her stable. The door was opened carefully and Pexo beckoned her out. This was very unusual, but Izzy did as he asked. He didn’t even have a lead for her, instead he simply waved her behind him, like a good friend to whom he wanted to show an exciting secret hiding place. That was nonsense, of course, but Izzy was curious and a little excited about what he wanted to show her. Finally, he stopped in front of Titan’s stable, and Izzy’s jaw dropped. She neighed excitedly. Pexo winked. Izzy looked around confused, but there was no-one else to be seen — just Pexo and her in the yard, and Titan in his stable, she smelled. It was a strong and pleasant odour, exciting and inviting. Pexo opened the stable door and stepped aside. He gave her the choice. This wasn’t breeding, it wasn’t forced, it was an offer she could refuse. But she was already standing in the stable and heard the door close behind her before she had finished thinking. Her body had answered for her. Pexo closed both halves of the door. Suddenly, it went dark. All was silent for a moment, then Izzy heard the familiar sound of Titan rising from the straw. Although she had come to the stable voluntarily, she was nervous at the thought. He was big, almost enormous even compared to her; and in more ways than one. She heard his rapid breathing and his approach. There was the sound of the chains again, so Pexo hadn’t untied him from the wall; that left Izzy with a retreat if necessary. The big stallion came closer and closer until she could feel his breath on her neck. She stood with her back to him and he pressed lightly against her. His muscles quivered on her back; they were hard and hot. She shivered pleasantly. His scent was overwhelming, clouding her senses and making her head feel light and terribly heavy at the same time. She felt him getting excited, his hardness pressing against her soft butt, the contrast of the two igniting a fire between her legs. How much she had longed for this moment, more than she had ever dreamed of Bastian. Titan had dominated her dreams for days, he was a perpetual presence in her thoughts. Had she become so much of an animal that this was necessary for her to feel pleasure? Or was it simply because of how undeniably more masculine Titan was compared to all the other men in the village? Like herself, Titan also had a horse bit in her mouth, so kissing was out of the question. Not that horses were known for that anyway, and yet she longed for it. She felt her knees slowly soften, but then Titan took a few steps back and neighed. Izzy looked over her shoulder into the darkness and understood. He wanted her to come to him. She was to be a good mare and come to her stallion, let him mount her at her own will and devotion. It was a game of power and he knew he held the better cards. He wanted to dominate her, and deep down she wanted it too. Izzy sighed, at that moment she probably would have done anything. She turned away from him again and took a few steps back, deeper into the stable and butt first to a stallion that wanted to pleasure himself on her. How much more of an animal could she become, she thought, but ultimately, it didn’t matter. She needed him. And he needed her. Titan was now pressing against her for good. His chin was above her head, and she felt terribly small and weak. He must weigh almost twice as much as she did — and he didn’t have an ounce of unnecessary fat on his body. He bent his knees a little and pressed his magnificent body between her legs, then neighed in displeasure. Of course, Izzy cried to herself, she was still wearing the chastity belt! Then Grall had probably been right about her needing it after all, if not for the belt she would certainly have marched back to her stable that night with a foal under her heart. Her other gate was also sealed with the ponytail, and her mouth filled with the bit. Whatever Titan could have of her, her innermost was denied him, at least for this night. But that didn’t seem to upset him much. He gave Izzy a little push and she landed on her knees. She understood what he wanted. She was an animal and so she had to give herself to him; and to make matters worse, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. It was honest, pure and somehow also very arousing. Just a few days ago, such a move would have been unthinkable for her, but something about the conversation with Grall had changed her. She now knew that he loved her, but in a way he had also released her, just as she had released him. They could love each other in a pure way that was not in competition with their love and lust for others. Their love was not exclusive, and therefore probably particularly deep. While she was thinking far too hard, Titan was only focussed on himself. His arousal dripped slightly from his hard steel and as he rubbed between Izzy’s legs, it was enough to slide between her thighs. It was no substitute for the real experience for Izzy — which she had not yet been granted — and yet, it was unique. Feeling him, smelling him, knowing he was behind her and above her almost took her mind away. He rubbed himself further and further between her thighs, close to the metal that hid what longed so much for him. But it was still overwhelming for Izzy. When he finally spurted between her legs against her stomach and breasts, she almost collapsed under the sensation. Her heart raced in her chest and she lay down on the fresh straw with him, exhausted. Although he was a stallion, he could not be accused of being cold-hearted. He pressed himself against her from behind and his closeness soothed and warmed her. They were almost asleep together when the door opened once more — albeit only the top half. Izzy looked out and the moonlight shone on Grall, who looked down at her with a warm smile. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. They both knew that Izzy had taken another step in the life of a ponygirl, but even he recognised that she felt no remorse in doing so. Yet another thought flashed through Izzy’s mind as she looked at Grall’s silhouette against the moonlight: who was it that was looking back at her? Was he her friend, happy for her to enjoy a night of fun; or was he her future owner, giving his mare a taste of her future? Was there even a difference? The race “Good morning, sleepyhead,” Grall said over the edge of the door and smiled at the sleeping Izzy. The rising sun was behind his head, giving him the appearance of a halo — which, in Izzy’s opinion, he certainly didn’t deserve. She blinked confused, tossed and turned a little and managed with difficulty to sit up, but to her shock there was straw stuck all over her body; not that she was entirely surprised, she quickly remembered the wild and long night that lay behind her. Titan, for his part, was snoring away in a corner, clearly not yet re-energised for the day ahead. Izzy came to the stable door on shaky legs, and Grall removed some straw from her face. Her eyes stared at him uncertainly. “Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. A little fun never hurt any ponygirl… well, it won’t hurt you. I hope.” Izzy lowered her eyes and whinnied softly with the horse’s bit in her mouth while Grall scratched her behind the ears. This was new, but she liked it. He opened the stable door and led her by the hand to the washing area, where he secured her to her breast rings with a lead before taking everything else off her — including the bit. Only her arms were secured behind her back again, as was the rule. “Zhrak!” She went to her knees on instinct. “How’s your leg?” he asked as he poured a bucket of warm water over her head. It was strange to Izzy how normally he talked to her while treating her like a horse. The duality of such situations was still hard for her to grasp — especially when her whole body was covered in dirt due to Titan’s sticky love. She swallowed quietly. “It hurts again, the night was a little rough.” His wide grin was no help to her. “You’ve really pushed him, I’ve never seen him so tired. Usually, he’s only with the mares for a short time, a whole night with you must have satisfied his hunger for days.” He playfully slapped Izzy on the bum, who neighed out of habit, which amused Grall even more. As a human she would have been terribly embarrassed if Grall had even thought such a thing, but as a ponygirl it seemed strangely unimportant who knew. The love of horses seemed more public and less private. “We’ll give you some new medicine right away and your leg will be better. I’ll take it easy on you until the race, you’ll stay in the stable. I’ll walk to school, that used to work too.” “I didn’t want to go there anyway,” Izzy grumbled, but of course, she knew it wasn’t her decision. While she was thinking about it, Grall undid the chastity belt and her gaze drifted briefly to Titan’s stall. “Don’t even think about it, as long as you’re a horse, it stays on. You clearly showed why that’s necessary that night.” There was a certain sternness in his voice. “You promised that you would find a solution after the race. Then I can decide for myself again!” He nodded slowly. “I promise. When we’ve won, we’ll go on a trip, just like before. But you can forget about Titan, no human is allowed in his stable. I’m sorry, but stallions are for mares.” She noticed his intense gaze, he must have guessed her thoughts. While he washed her between her legs, he continued: “If you still want to be my horse from time to time, I might forget the ponytail occasionally. Purely accidentally, of course…” Izzy’s mind split in two at this offer. One side was desperate to be human again, but the prospect of a night with Titan was promising. As so often, Grall held the door to life as a ponygirl open for her, and that no longer surprised her. But what was more important now was whether he would really keep his promise. Once she was halfway free, she could make a new decision for herself without coercion or influence. The day alone in the stable was hardly more exciting than waiting in the school stable. Although there was more to see in the yard, it was still lonely without direct contact with other horses. As was to be expected, Saxea came back first with Sunshine after school, and to Izzy’s great surprise, the little goblin girl led her ponygirl straight to Izzy’s stable. “Here, Sunshine, you can keep Buttercup company for a while,” the girl whispered and even took the horse bits out of their mouths. “But no talking!” She winked and closed both halves of the stable door to give them some privacy. Sunshine stretched her jaw. “How are you?” “I’m bored out of my mind. Besides, my leg still hurts. How am I supposed to win a race with that?” “You should have kicked Grall’s ass for that. A little kiss from your hooves would make him think twice.” Izzy grinned and nudged Sunshine playfully. “You wouldn’t do that to Saxea either.” “She’s not as stupid as your owner.” “Oh, so Miss I’m-a-special-horse doesn’t have an owner. Nonsense, you belong to Oozol, and he’s going to gift you to Grall.” “Still, Grall isn’t my owner yet,” said Izzy grumpily. “How is Lisande?” Sunshine paced around the stable and seemed to avoid the question, but Izzy followed her until Sunshine realised that silence was pointless. “She wasn’t there. Kreks was missing too, his father excused him. I’m sure they’re practising while you’re just standing here with a damaged leg. Shall I give Grall a little kick? I don’t mind a few smacks on the butt.” “If you try that, then…” Despite all the fun between them, Izzy’s look left no doubt as to what was meant. Sunshine’s eyes travelled back and forth between Izzy’s powerful thighs and her own rather meagre legs. “It’s okay, I was only joking. But it’s bad at school without you. Albaea never leaves me alone, she’s so…” “Cute?” “Annoying!” scolded Sunshine, but Izzy just giggled. “She’s just a breed pony, she can’t help it.” “But she’s so… naive! She wouldn’t even run away if you forced her to.” Sunshine rolled her eyes. “You’re some kind of breed pony too, and you don’t act like it!” She bit her lip. “At least not in the same way.” “What are you saying?” Izzy looked Sunshine straight in the eye, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. “It’s like this… you’re the only volunteer ponygirl in the whole area. Besides…” Sunshine swallowed. “We all overheard your night with Titan. You weren’t exactly quiet. He’s handsome, no question, but he’s an animal. A stallion and not a man.” Izzy blushed slightly, then arched her back. “So what? Most of the ponygirls have been with Titan.” Sunshine tilted her head. “Actually, no. Usually, the goblins take him to the mares that are tied up the most. You’re the first one to spend a whole night in his stall.” “Oh.” That was all Izzy could manage. She had suspected it, but hearing it like that felt different. “Don’t worry about it. We all do what we have to do to survive as ponygirls. You’re registered and, like us, you have no choice, so don’t get upset.” “What if I did have a choice?” asked Izzy uncertainly. Grall had promised her a piece of freedom that Sunshine would never have again. Was that unfair? Sunshine took a step back. “You’d be crazy to stay a ponygirl by choice. You felt on your bottom, how stupid that was of you. Do you want to be whipped again? Or wait until Oozol sells you? Breed pony or not, don’t throw your life away.” There was real fire in her words. Sunshine took a deep breath and swallowed. “But maybe that’s just the difference between a captive ponygirl and you.” Izzy felt those words deep inside her. Even though Izzy had only slipped into this life herself, this fact seemed to put a wedge between Sunshine and herself. “Cheer up, you’ll make the right decision, whatever that means. You’d better concentrate on the race. Lisande is inexperienced, but fast. You’ll still win. Why should she do her best and then stay with Kreks? She’ll probably stumble on the first lap accidentally and let you win.” “I hope so,” said Izzy and grinned — but a small yet intense spark of doubt blazed inside her. It couldn’t really be that easy. Kreks was a monster, but he wasn’t stupid. “You need to tell me a bit more about your night with Titan, I can even smell him on you. Grall still needs to practice washing,” Sunshine joked, and Izzy was only too happy to share the night’s experiences with the other mare, who was yet to have her encounter with the magnificent stallion. Although Sunshine clearly didn’t appreciate life as a ponygirl, she didn’t seem completely averse to TitaWhat are we doing n. — There was only one day to go until the race and Izzy’s leg was still not fully healed. The tension could be felt throughout the yard. Pexo and Grall came to her stable every hour to check her leg — as if anything would change that quickly — but with the heavy hoofed boots, a clean trot was simply not possible, let alone a fast gallop. “An injury must be enough reason to cancel!” shouted Grall across the yard, but Oozol, who was walking slowly behind him, just shook his head. “She was already injured beforehand, that was your mistake. You have to make the best of the situation.” “And if we lose? Am I going to go to her father and say: sorry, but I lost your daughter?” grumbled Grall. “But that’s precisely what you did. Besides, he probably won’t be back for another two or three days. Let’s hope we have better news then. This is your fault, my son. But in this family, we honour bets. No matter how the race turns out, one of you will lose a ponygirl in the end.” Grall turned around on the spot and looked his father straight in the eye. “Even if it’s Izzy?” “Even if it’s Buttercup.” It hadn’t escaped Izzy’s notice that they both couldn’t agree on her name, but eventually, it didn’t matter. She was Oozol’s property, and he chose Buttercup. “There must be a way! You have so many books, isn’t there something in any of them?” The old goblin crossed his arms. “Don’t look at me like that, I don’t want to lose her either. But she’s a registered ponygirl, and you bet her. That’s how life works. But look through the books if you think you can find anything. How’s her leg?” “Not good, the boot makes it difficult to walk. But there’s not enough time to get another one. All the other boots we have are too small for her. Hers were the only ones that fitted. Her breeding line is just very different from the other horses.” Izzy snorted in her stall. The thought of being nothing more than a bred animal still angered her deeply, even though she knew it was the truth. The humiliation was just too deep. Oozol lowered his eyes and seemed to be thinking. “Maybe I have an idea after all.” Izzy tried to listen carefully, but the old goblin whispered the rest. — “What are we doing here,” Izzy asked as she followed Grall. He led her behind him on a leash by the breast rings. It was far from pleasant, but Oozol had insisted if riding wasn’t an option. She looked at her father’s house and a sting ran through her heart. Not long ago, she would have described it as her home, but even to her that no longer seemed right. Her home was the stable at Oozol, she knew that. “What did your father whisper to you?” “I didn’t want to get your hopes up, but maybe there’s something in the barn that can help us,” Grall replied, tying Izzy to the front door of the barn out of sheer habit. “Untie me, or are you afraid I’ll run away?” she complained. “There’s no one here to see us!” Grall nodded hurriedly and freed her, also untying her arms. “What are you looking for?” It was an unfamiliar but extremely welcome feeling to be able to use her hands freely again. She stretched and the blood finally circulated properly through her whole body again. Grall pushed some straw aside and opened the secret door in the floor before climbing down the rickety ladder without saying a word. “There they are!” he called loudly after searching for a while. Before he was more than halfway back up, Izzy grabbed him by the collar and lifted him out with ease. “Hey!” he shouted in surprise, almost dropping the pony boots in his hand. He hung wriggling in the air and looked at her with wide eyes. “Put me down!” “What’s the magic word?” Izzy grinned broadly. She had only wanted to help him up, but holding the squirming goblin in her hand felt strangely good. After the hardships of the last few days — and the power he had gained over her — a little role reversal did her good. The little goblin flailed his arms and legs, but eventually gave up. “Dear Butter-… Izzy, PLEASE put me back down.” As he had asked, she carefully set him down on the straw and stroked his head. “This way we could become friends again,” she mocked, but Grall didn’t seem satisfied. “That was mean, I only want to help you!” he grumbled sulkily and threw the pony boots at her feet. “Don’t be so overdramatic,” Izzy said, pricking him with a finger. “You hit me with a riding crop, but if I lift you in the air, the world is about to end.” “That’s not the same at all. You’re much bigger and stronger than me.” Izzy snorted. “You know damn well I would never hurt myself.” “That’s not the point. Never mind. Let’s go check on the pony boots instead. My dad told me they’re your mother’s. Unlike the other things, they really are from the royal family and not imitations. They are of such high quality that no shoemaker in the whole area could make anything comparable. What’s more, they only fit your mother — and with any luck, you.” The shoes were made of the finest leather, and slightly larger than usual for ponygirl boots; just what Izzy needed. They were unusually light, although they seemed even sturdier than her usual boots. There was not a seam to be seen, and the material appeared to mold perfectly to the skin: it was robust on the outside and soft as a cushion on the inside. Izzy put her old boots to one side and slipped into her mother’s pony boots. Her leg immediately felt a little better. The boot supported her and still gave her the freedom of movement she needed to run long distances as a horse. Grall had a closer look at her leg. “Looks good. Fits perfectly, you must really look a lot like your mother. Try it out!” Izzy took a few steps through the stable, but the pain had not completely disappeared. Nevertheless, she felt a warmth rising in her body that had nothing to do with the material. She had taken another step closer to her mother, shared a bit more of her life and was now almost literally following in her footsteps. The shoes must have accompanied her mother for hundreds of kilometres, and now they would hopefully lead Izzy to freedom — or at least spare her a life under Kreks. New courage drove her out of the shed and before Grall could stop her, she was running in a wide circle across the yard, her arms behind her back as if by habit, as if she had long forgotten how to run with her arms swinging. She stopped in front of Grall, who looked at her uncertainly. “What’s going on? Did you think I was going to run away from you?” “No, of course not!” he lied badly. “You just left so quickly all of a sudden.” They were both silent for a moment. The possibility of running away was not completely off the table for Izzy, she would rather try her luck in the forest than suffer under Kreks; nevertheless, it surprised her how much Grall already seemed to be suffering from the thought. Izzy looked across the yard and noticed a strange symbol in the mud between the imprint of the horseshoes. “The hooves leave the coat of arms of a king,” she said in amazement. She didn’t know the coat of arms, but as it was her mother’s pony boots, it could only be the sign of royalty. “My father had the hooves made especially for her. It was a stupid idea, but he probably wanted to make her happy.” Grall shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t worry, no one will notice on the racetrack.” He closed the trapdoor to the secret cellar and pushed some straw over it again. Before Grall could say anything, Izzy got down on her knees and opened her mouth. But the goblin waved her off. “How about we take a little trip just as friends? You’ll get your horse bit back soon enough.” He smiled at her and they both went for a walk through the forest before Izzy slipped back into the role of horse. — “Are you ready?” asked Grall after he had saddled Izzy. His fingers were trembling slightly, which Izzy couldn’t help but notice. He also looked tired, which was no surprise as she had seen the light from his room through the boards of the stable during the night. He must have hardly slept, although she didn’t understand what he had been doing there all this time. “Not really, but I guess it doesn’t matter, does it?” replied Izzy, opening her mouth so that Grall could insert the horse bit. From here on, she was just a horse again, albeit one whose future was uncertain. She felt the wet ointment on her ankle as her mother’s soft pony boot nestled against her leg. This little piece of family on her feet gave her at least a little support for the challenge ahead. “Good luck to you both,” Pexo said as he walked past, patting Izzy lightly on the bum. Izzy neighed gratefully. “Don’t worry, you can’t lose at all,” Grall assured her, wearing his riding clothes again. “Besides, I have a plan.” That was all he told her. He climbed into the saddle and steered Izzy to his father, who was mounting a horse. “We’re done.” “You have to forbid this,” Saxea scolded, riding up on Sunshine. “Why should Buttercup suffer because of my stupid brother?” “A true goblin honours debts. Besides, nobody forced him to make the bet, did they?” “And if he loses?” “Then he no longer has a ponygirl.” Izzy neighed unhappily and Grall wasn’t happy either: “That’s not right, she’s not like the other ponygirls.” Oozol crossed his arms and looked sternly at his son. “She has a registration number on her breast and my name is on the register. You’d better hurry. You can lose if you’re late, too.” Izzy swallowed through the horse bit. Oozol was completely serious, there was no doubt about that. Her only hope was to win the race, or she would be a tortured beast of Kreks for all time. She stamped lightly, but the familiar pain returned immediately. The six — or three, if you counted only the goblins Grall, Oozol and Saxea — rode through the strangely deserted village; even the grey goblin women who usually sat in front of the huts were nowhere to be seen. A faint wind swept through the streets, banging the shutters on the abandoned houses. Izzy shuddered, where was everyone? It was almost spooky. She neighed nervously, not helped by Grall’s occasional stroking; how could he understand her feelings, after all, it wasn’t his freedom and entire future at stake! It was bad enough to be the pet of a — former? — friend, but a life under the whip of Kreks could not be good; the beating with the branch had been enough to make her hate him for the rest of her life, and she could see all too clearly in Lisande what was in store for her too. They turned onto a small avenue at the end of the village with a wide line of trees that led them straight to the place where Izzy’s future would be decided. Although Izzy lived not far away, she had never been here before — what was the point, she never wanted to watch poor young women being driven and humiliated by their owners for the entertainment of others. The racecourse was a place where no human normally strayed — except with a saddle on their back. — The racecourse turned out to be an ancient arena from a dark past, of which only two overgrown grandstands and a well-maintained circuit in the form of a gravel track still bore witness today. Centuries ago, half-naked ponygirls had to be driven around the bends with whips to entertain the green masses. There was an air of eternity about it all; the stone borders at the bends were decorated with weathered goblin runes that no one could decipher today, but alongside them were drawings of young women being ridden hard by goblins. Before long, Izzy would join the long line of horses being raced around the track for the fun of the greenskins. The two decaying grandstands were already buzzing with activity. Apparently, word of the race had spread rapidly among the goblins, which also made it clear where all the villagers had gone. The atmosphere was great and some spectators shouted a few small bets to each other. The goblins stood on the hills all the way down to the racetrack, waiting eagerly in the morning sun for the riders to arrive. Cheers erupted at Grall’s arrival, and Izzy blushed slightly — the celebratory mood of the goblins didn’t match her feelings at all. It was strange for her to have so many eyes on her. The goblins clapped enthusiastically and witnessed Izzy being ridden with reins by one of their own, who would soon be using her as a racehorse. She had actually got used to the experience by now, but there was a difference between having a dozen or a hundred eyes staring at you. The start and finish line was painted just after the first bend; Kreks was already waiting on Lisande and was celebrated by the spectators. His father held the reins and talked to his son before pointing to the new arrivals. To Izzy’s amazement, Lisande wore a tight hood over her head, covering her eyes and ears; only her mouth and nose were exposed. “Look who’s here. Your ponygirl is still a bit limping, hopefully you’ve said goodbye to her,” sneered Kreks. “Surely, you don’t mind walking home.” “Buttercup will never be yours,” Grall growled, and Izzy stamped her feet in agreement. Izzy glanced over her shoulder and noticed an incongruous confidence, as if he was absolutely sure of himself. “I didn’t realise NEVER was in just a few minutes.” “Hello Oozol,” Kreks father said, ignoring Grall and Kreks bickering. “May I assume that you will honour the bet?” “Of course,” replied Oozol. “She’ll be mine!” Kreks nagged again. “Be quiet, son. Show me what you can do at the races and don’t let me down. Don’t you dare lose an expensive ponygirl on this childish bet.” Kreks turned pale. He stuttered with the next words. “I’ll win, father, you’ll see. I’ll make you proud!” His father huffed. “It’ll take a lot more than that.” Kreks had no choice but to bow his head. Izzy would have liked to laugh at this, but it wasn’t the right place or time. The general murmuring among the spectators intensified, but Mexi easily drowned them out. “You can do it! I believe in you!” she shouted at the top of her lungs and Grall immediately beamed. In her hand she held the reins of Albaea, who was prancing around excitedly on the spot. “Buttercup, Buttercup!” The crowd joined in, and her name — her horse’s name — kept going back and forth between the hills. Izzy was blushing; this much attention made her uncomfortable, even as a human it would have been bizarre, but as a horse it was absurd! Above all, it was strange that so many of the spectators thought she could win as a ponygirl — she, the simple girl who had avoided ponygirls like the devil avoids holy water just a few weeks ago. Grall led her on and only stopped before the starting line. Did the goblins know about her mother, or did they just have a good eye for her lineage? Izzy was trembling. This was perhaps the most critical moment of her life. She had been through many crossroads in the last few weeks, but this one was particularly decisive — here and now it was decided whether there was another chance of freedom, or whether she would spend the rest of her life as a common ponygirl under the whip of Kreks. Her heart was beating wildly before she could even take the first step, and her senses were running at full speed: she heard the spectators, felt the hard sand under her hooves, smelled the grass on the hills and felt Grall’s restlessness in the saddle. “Once you’re mine, I’m sure my father will be proud of me,” Kreks whispered to Izzy, grinning grimly. “And you’ll be wearing my brand tonight. Then this belt will come off too, you’ll bring me a lot of money.” Izzy neighed nervously and avoided his gaze, which wasn’t easy with the reins on the horse’s bit. Grall led her to the side and, to her surprise, took the bit out of her mouth. “Does your leg still hurt?” he asked. “What do you think?” she replied snappily. “Let’s get this over with. I want to get out of here as quickly as possible.” “May I…” Izzy nodded. “If you skimp on the whip and I become Kreks pony because of it, I’ll kick the living daylights out of you!” Her eyes burned like fire. “You’ll owe me one after that!” It was a strange thing for her to say; asking him to hit her as hard as possible was really not something that had been on her wish list a week ago. It was almost as if she was talking about another horse, but of course, she knew she was about to feel the hard leather on her rump. “Just one more thing…” She bit her lower lip and grimaced. Grall nodded and led her to a nearby row of trees, where he undid her strap and a small flap on her chastity belt. She knelt down and realised how many of the onlookers were still watching her. It was ghastly, but on hearing “Rhida Kess” she still peed automatically without being able to stop it. “Please line up,” she heard from the side, and Grall quickly got Izzy ready again. It was Werdox, who had saddled Izzy at school; he gave her a friendly nod. “Everyone except the riders and their horses, please leave the track. Good, then we’re ready to go. Today will determine who has the better horse, and is the better rider: Grall or Kreks. The rules are as follows: The race lasts two laps, no one is allowed to interfere and the horses must stay on the track with their riders on their backs. If a rider falls off, he loses. Whips and spurs are permitted, as are horse bits and reins. Ponytails are optional, but I see Buttercup is still having fun with hers.” Izzy lowered her eyes, embarrassed. “Did you get that?” Grall and Kreks nodded, as did Izzy, which amused the onlookers greatly — after all, Werdox hadn’t been talking to the animals, but to the riders. She was just the wager and an animal, but a sport was performed by the athletes — in this case, the riders. “Do both parties agree on the wager?” “I agree,” said Kreks. “Not me!” Grall’s voice was firm and determined. A murmur went through the rows of spectators. Izzy looked over her shoulder, eyes wide — she knew what Oozol would do if he chickened out of the bet — but Grall looked her straight in the eye, then shouted, “I demand the right to Dom’Boxem!” Grall held up a book: “The Dictionary of Ancient Traditions and Customs.” The older members of the audience — who probably knew what it was all about — jumped to their feet and a wild argument broke out, although Izzy understood nothing of it. She had never heard of something called Dom’Boxem, but it seemed to be a big topic of discussion among a small group of goblins. Oozol ran towards them with long strides, his head was red and Izzy wouldn’t have been surprised if smoke was about to come out of his ears. “Have you lost your mind?” the goblin hissed. “You can’t risk everything for a ponygirl! Buttercup means a lot to me too, but you’re my son! Stop this nonsense, right now!” “Father’s right,” Saxea hissed from behind Sunshine’s back. “Buttercup will win just the same, you don’t have to take such a big risk.” “She’s not just a ponygirl,” Grall disagreed, stroking Izzy’s head. “She’s my best friend, and I’m proving it here and now!” The words did not fail to have an effect, a pleasant shiver ran through Izzy and she neighed. Oozol did not calm down. “You could lose everything!” “Better than Buttercup having to go to that monster. I will never allow him to torture her.” Izzy stamped her feet, confused. When would someone finally explain to her what was happening? Grall leaned over to her, “Dom’Boxem means you change the stakes on a bet: I traded you for all my possessions. It would be dishonourable for Kreks to refuse, after all, that’s all I have to offer. It’s the only way I can force him to leave you alone. Since you belong to my father, you are safe.” Izzy stared at him in surprise, even without the horse bit she would have been at a loss for words. It was an affectionate gesture, but in the end it was the same stupidity he had used to get her into this situation. He was still the foolish little boy from before, just a little bigger and older, Izzy thought. “But that only applies if the new stake is higher than the first,” Oozol warned. “Even if it is, I won’t allow it. Withdraw it, or… or -” Oozol seemed to be desperately searching for a suitable threat, and to Izzy’s annoyance, he found it “- I’ll give Buttercup away to Kreks right here and now! Then at least this nightmare will be over.” Grall jumped off Izzy’s back — ignoring his damaged leg — right in front of his father, who took a step back in surprise. “If you dare…” No more was needed, Oozol only had to look into Grall’s eyes to understand the consequences. The old goblin swallowed; Izzy had never seen him so agitated, and Grall never so serious. Finally, Oozol nodded. “Fine, she’ll stay with me. But this is a mistake, but at least you’re taking it seriously. I’m strangely proud of you.” Werdox waved Grall and Kreks over. “The stakes have been changed. Kreks horse for Grall’s possession. Are both sides in agreement?” Kreks laughed meanly. “What’s the point, why do you want to get rid of all your stuff too? What’s in it for you?” “Buttercup will never be yours. That’s enough for me.” “I won’t accept that — if you bet everything, you’ll bet her too!” Grall shook his head. “She’s officially my father’s and not mine. You know the register.” “I want Buttercup,” Kreks insisted. “She’s more valuable than all your thalers and rubbish. You’re a nobody and you can’t claim Dom’Boxem like that!” “Can you prove that you have enough property to claim the right to Dom’Boxem?” asked Werdox uncertainly. “Then I offer myself as well.” “You, as my servant?” asked Kreks, visibly shocked, but he quickly collected himself. A dirty grin flitted across his face again. “Five years, and you must do everything I ask. You’ll only be slightly better off than a ponygirl.” His voice dripped with scorn and derision. “If that’s what it takes. Fine by me.” Grall spat at his feet, but they both shook hands. Izzy got down on her knees for Grall so he could get back up, but he pressed his face to hers instead and gave her a kiss, to the amazement of the onlookers. “Is that proof enough of my friendship for you? We will save Lisande, as I promised you. And the risk is mine alone. Fuck the money. Fuck the farm. Fuck people like Kreks and his father. Only Mexi and you are important to me.” It hadn’t escaped Izzy’s notice that he had mentioned Mexi first, but she felt no bitterness. Fittingly, Mexi fought her way through the thick wall of spectators and hugged Grall. “What a stupid idea, but I love it! Kreks doesn’t deserve a horse like Buttercup. Besides, you’re not in any danger, you’ll win no matter what. See you — both of you — at your victory.” Izzy neighed in agreement, even if she wasn’t so sure about her leg. Her eyes fell once more on Lisande, who was strangely unconcerned. Her head was still hidden under her hood, but now Izzy noticed that something seemed to be stuck in the mare’s ears. She must not have been able to see or hear, which explained why she hadn’t reacted to anything so far. “Prepare the horses.” Grall climbed back into the saddle; a groom came to Izzy and tied a thick black cloth around her head. Complete darkness enveloped her. “Relax,” Grall said. “This is to stop the horse from controlling the race. You have to trust me blindly now. Just watch the reins. A flag is the starting signal, so wait for my spurs.” Izzy nodded, but her mind was still spinning. Until a moment ago, she was sure it was all about her, but now Grall’s future was at stake. Was that better, or worse? He had got her into all this, but… he was her best friend; again. It was bad enough having to fight for her future, but she certainly wouldn’t let Grall down. Hopefully, Lisande wasn’t as quick as she looked. “Just a moment,” a voice Izzy vaguely recognised called from the ranks. All she heard was him apologising many times and the loud “Hey!”, “Ouch” and “Careful” from some goblins. The speaker was probably struggling down the stands and literally stepping on some people’s feet. Izzy heard a cloak rustle beside her and remembered the voice: it was Jedol, the tax collector. “I hope these pretty little horses are still properly taxed, aren’t they? I remember Grall’s, but it never hurts to check.” Izzy felt his cold hand between her legs and shivered, but the goblin kept fumbling until he found the tax tag. He seemed to do the same with Lisande, who whinnied discontentedly herself. “Forgive this brief interruption. But everything must be done properly, right?” He slapped Izzy hard on the rump and left. “Attention!” Werdox’s voice echoed across the arena, silencing the crowds in the stands for a brief moment. It was the same silence that had reigned in this arena for hundreds of years, whenever a new race was about to start and poor girls were waiting outside to be whipped by their masters. Izzy shivered. Time was standing still, then again everything seemed to happen at once. Grall gave her the spurs and she ran off. The wind blew through her mane and she felt the explosion of the whip on her bruised bottom. The race was in full swing, but she had no idea how it was going. With the bandage on, she was blind, but she couldn’t hear Kreks through the noise of the spectators. Was he behind her, or so far ahead that she no longer had a chance? She howled under Grall’s blows and jumped further and further forwards. Her leg complained with every step and she felt herself losing speed after the first few strides. It wasn’t like usual when her legs simply flew over the sand, here she had to push herself and fight against an inner resistance that now decided Grall’s and Lisande’s future. Grall struck harder than ever before, even during the punishment he had not put such force into his blows. The spurs also found her flank again and again. It was terrible, and yet she was prepared to endure anything that would get her across the finish line first. She reached the first bend and willingly followed the reins round the hedge and sprinted on under the pelting blows of Grall. The spectators had quietened a little and Izzy heard the familiar clop-clop-clop of hooves — her own, but also Lisande’s. They were to her left and close behind her; so she was leading, albeit narrowly! But why was Lisande trying so hard, Izzy thought between the lashes of the whip. Surely, she had nothing to gain and only something to lose? Was it too much to ask if she just stumbled for a moment? “Faster!” shouted Grall and struck again. He held on to the saddle with all his strength, while Izzy’s whole body was dripping with sweat. The blood was pounding in Izzy’s ears and she found it difficult to think, but luckily, she only had to run and concentrate on the reins. She was even grateful for that today, as she wasn’t able to do more under this pressure. Grall seemed to take the next bend tightly. The first round was done, but Lisande was still very close. Kreks was certainly not a good rider, but Izzy’s leg was not as fast as usual. The pain increased with every step, and Izzy sensed that the race had better not go on too long. The spectators cheered as Izzy and Lisande were driven hard by their riders. The whip hit her on the bottom again and again, but then a second blow hit her on the breasts at the same time. She howled and the spectators also cursed. Had Kreks just hit her during the race? Was that even allowed, Izzy asked herself, but by then she had already been hit a second time by the other rider. Scumbag. Cheater. Animal abusers, thought Izzy, already planning what she would do with Kreks after the race, but then a light dawned on her. Of course, Lisande knew nothing about the bet. Izzy had only found out about it in the forest. Lisande certainly believed that she would be severely punished if she lost, rather than being set free. Kreks, you monster! “You monster!” shouted Grall, as if he had heard Izzy’s thoughts, but he too howled as if he had been struck by Kreks” whip. “I’ll show you!” Now it was Kreks’ turn to shout, but Izzy no longer felt any blows. The two riders had to fight hard, and Izzy and Lisande often came so close that Izzy could feel the other horse’s breath. The race entered the penultimate bend and the battle became fiercer. More and more spectators roared and the two riders howled under their mutual attacks. It was no longer a race; it was a battle of the riders in which the ponygirls had little part. They reached the final bend and Izzy felt that she was slightly in the lead, but there was no time to cheer; her leg was burning like fire by now and she felt herself losing her balance. She tumbled forwards and her legs tangled with Lisande’s — both fell to the ground, whinnying. Izzy lay dazed. The world seemed to have frozen. It was only when someone removed her blindfold that she realised what had happened. Lisande, Kreks and Grall were lying in the dirt like her and everyone watching held their breath. Grall was the first to get up and limped over to Izzy. “Are you all right? What happened?” Izzy looked at her leg and Grall beckoned a vet over who applied a new ointment to Izzy’s leg. Nothing seemed to be broken, but the pain continued for a while. Werdox pushed forward and looked down sternly at the two riders. “That was a dirty race. You two should be ashamed of yourselves! The crops are for the ponygirls. You don’t hit a goblin with a whip!” Izzy rolled her eyes. “Who won?” asked Oozol. “Both riders have fallen off their horses and the horses are on the finish line. Is it a draw?” “I’ll have to discuss that with the other referees,” said Werdox, retreating under a tree with a pack of goblins while Izzy slowly stood up. Her arms and breasts were cut up by the gravel, but at least she hadn’t broken anything. Lisande seemed to have had less luck, she screamed loudly as a couple of goblins helped her to her feet. Kreks hit her with the whip until his father took it from him and lashed it across his face. “You have disgraced me today. How could you let yourself be thrown from your horse in front of so many people!” grumbled Vepox, Kreks father, grabbing him by the ear. “What do we do if it’s a draw?” asked Oozol. “We could forget the whole Dom’Boxem thing and just swap the ponygirls. That would only be fair, wouldn’t it?” said Vepox. “We can’t do that, I promised my son that Buttercup would stay with us. Let’s wait for the verdict.” Izzy grimaced. Oozol seemed to be honouring the agreement, but everything was still at stake. Grall didn’t look thrilled either, even though he was holding Mexi in his arms. “Keep your fingers crossed. It’s going to be close!” Albaea pranced nervously behind the two of them, whinnying nervously. She kept trying to run to Izzy, but Mexi held her reins tightly. Saxea had also joined her brother and — quite uncharacteristically — held his hand, while Sunshine rested her head on Saxea’s shoulder. Everyone was tense. Finally, Werdox came back and quietened everyone down with a grand gesture. The tension among the spectators was palpable, but Grall and Izzy in particular were trembling with fear. Izzy was breathing heavily through the horse’s bit. “We’ve reached an agreement that, we felt, was the fairest solution under the circumstances,” Werdox said, and Izzy’s heart slipped into her stomach. It didn’t sound like a clear victory. “As we understand, both riders fell off their horses, which should disqualify them — not to mention the heinous use of the whips against another goblin. But there is a small but subtle difference: as we unanimously recognised, Buttercup fell on the finish line, after which Grall fell off her. Kreks, on the other hand, touched the ground in front of his horse. First, in fact.” Everyone held their breath. The result could be guessed, but nobody dared to cheer until it was clearly stated. “So Kreks has -” Izzy’s heart stopped “- lost the race!” Izzy was speechless for a moment, but remained silent afterwards because of the bit, but the spectators stopped her cheering. They lifted Grall high into the air and carried him across the track, shouting loudly; Izzy was also surrounded and hundreds of little hands stroked her, someone even spread some new cream on her battered bottom. Only one goblin seemed more interested in the track, while the rest celebrated. Kreks stood on the sidelines, boiling with rage. He rushed back to Lisande and was about to hit her again, but Grall jumped forward and gave him a good punch. The other boy fell to the ground unconscious. “Stop hitting my ponygirl — Lisande is mine now and we’ll take good care of her.” “You did well,” said a warm voice from right beside Izzy. She turned round and looked her father straight in the eye. “I guess I came back just in time. You truly are your mother’s daughter. I was told what happened here. I’m very proud of you for helping the other ponygirl.” He hugged his daughter tightly. “You’re even wearing her pony boots. They look good on you.” It hadn’t escaped her notice that he hadn’t taken the horse bit out of her mouth again. As much as he loved her, she really was a ponygirl to him by now. But something else was more important to Izzy. She got down on her knees next to Lisande and gave her a friendly nudge while someone took off her blindfold. Lisande obviously didn’t understand what was happening, but Grall explained it to her in short words. The sobbing horse’s eyes were wide open and she pressed herself against Izzy. Sunshine also joined them, while Albaea pranced around the three of them with wild leaps like a young foal. Sunshine rolled her eyes, then took a step back and pressed Albaea against Izzy and Lisande. All four ponygirls neighed contentedly. Izzy smiled broadly; everything was almost all right again. If Grall kept his word, she would soon be in a dress again. Lisande was safe and Grall hadn’t lost everything. It wasn’t perfect, but things were better than they had been a few days ago. She looked around at the spectators when she recognised Bastian on one of the hills. Her heart froze. Horse thieves “Where are you looking at?” Matheus asked his daughter, who turned to him briefly. She looked back at the hill, but Bastian was gone. His face, however, was burnt into her retina and would probably remain so for a while. She had expected anything, but seeing curiosity in his eyes had thrown her completely off balance for a moment. Of course, there was the familiar look of disgust that she was all too used to seeing in people, but curiosity? What had he expected from her life after seeing her as a horse in the school lesson? And why was he interested at all? What had he been doing on this hill when no human ever came here — except as an animal? If he wanted to see her humiliation, why this reaction? Izzy blinked and remembered that her father had asked her something. She tilted her head and mumbled something until her father finally got the idea to take the horse bit out of her mouth. “It’s… I’ve seen Bastian.” Her father scratched his chin thoughtfully. “It’s not like no one amongst the humans knows what happened to you. But I understand why it makes you uncomfortable. Do you want to talk about it?” “Not today,” Izzy replied, but before she could say more, Kreks had woken up and was obviously in a fighting mood. “This isn’t over yet! I’m going to get Buttercup, you’ll see!” But to Izzy’s astonishment, it wasn’t Grall who knocked some sense into him, but his father. He slapped him hard on the back of the head and hissed: “Haven’t you brought enough shame on you and me yet? Forget this horse already, it will only bring you bad luck. No horse is worth that.” He dragged his shrieking son behind him by the ear, and Izzy could only hope that was the end of the matter. “What are you looking at me so strangely for?” asked Matheus as Izzy focussed on him again. “Did you leave the horse bit in with my mother if you didn’t want to listen to her, too? Matheus suddenly blushed. “Well… maybe sometimes. She must have felt the need in her later years to make up for everything she couldn’t say before. She was an angel, but the horse bit was occasionally a blessing.” He looked at her guiltily, but Izzy just grinned. Her father was a good-natured man, and she could well imagine her mother accepting it just for his sake, to keep him happy. “Anyway, I’ll go congratulate your rider.” — “You really are the fastest horse in the whole neighbourhood,” Grall slurred. It must have been his third beer, and the spontaneous celebration was only just beginning. Word of the victory had spread quickly among the goblins — even among those who weren’t interested in horse racing. The celebration was spontaneous; everyone brought something, a small group played music and the rest danced, celebrated and laughed. Izzy and Lisande were extremely popular, they were always being given treats and stroked, but they were still not guests: they stood — together with Albaea and Sunshine — tied to a post at the edge of the square and could only watch the hustle and bustle. Izzy hadn’t expected anything else by now, but at least they had been treated by a vet beforehand and given a few medicinal herbs so that they were no longer in pain. Lisande had become visibly more relaxed since the race, now that she had realised that her life was back on a better course — even if she would remain an animal for all time. “You deserve a reward, my sweet. What do you want?’ said Grall, taking the horse bit from Izzy’s mouth, which had been reinserted meanwhile. She stretched her jaw and relished the freedom. “You promised me that I could be human again. You owe me something for this trouble here. I want to be human among humans again. But not here, too many people know by now that I’m…” “That you’re a horse? Fine, fine, if that’s what you want, we’ll do it together. I promise! We’ll travel a bit further away, where people don’t know you.” “Can’t I go alone?” Izzy asked sharply. Grall raised his hands in defence. “Yes, but I also have to take a few things to the bank, and I thought you’d like to do something with me again. As friends, of course.” “Friends don’t bet each other,” Izzy reminded him, grumbling slightly. “Won’t happen again.” He turned to Lisande, swaying. “Welcome back. You did well at the race, congratulations. Nice of you to lose, though.” He hiccupped. “After the party, you’ll be in a nice, clean stable. Strange, last week I didn’t have a ponygirl, now I’ll soon have two.” Lisande neighed uncertainly. “Do you look after your horses?” asked Oozol in a warm voice. He obviously liked his son in this role; not unusual for a man who wanted to inherit his farm at some point. “It’s good if you practise.” Grall crossed his arms in front of his chest and Izzy guessed what would follow. “While we’re on the subject of experience with ponygirls, you could use a little practice too,” he said in a voice loosened by alcohol. “Your training methods are bad. Bad, bad, bad!” Mexi listened in the background and nodded. “What?” asked Oozol, surprised. “You want to teach me a lesson about ponygirls?” The old goblin puffed himself up, but Grall stabbed him in the chest with his finger so hard that his father literally ran out of breath. “Exactly like that! Admit it, you’re afraid you’d like a ponygirl as much as Buttercup’s mother again. That’s why you haven’t had a steady horse for all these years.” Grall waited for his father to say something, but he just looked at him with wide eyes. “Gotcha! You need your own ponygirl again so you don’t forget what it’s all about. And as luck would have it, I’ve got one here! You need to change a few things about yourself, and that’s a good start.” He attached a lead to Lisande’s horse bit and handed it to his father, who continued to look at his son speechlessly. “Have fun. And no excuses. Lisande is your permanent ponygirl now. Be good to her — she’s mine, and I’ll be furious if you’re not nice to her!” Izzy watched the spectacle in silence and admired Grall’s courage in standing up to his father. Even though Oozol was rather small for Izzy, she also had respect for him — and not just because of the whip. Oozol kept looking from his hand to Lisande and back. “That’s… you never cease to amaze me, my son,” he finally said, scratching Lisande’s head. “All right, I’ll give her a chance.” “No, I’ll give you one,” Grall said, chuckling. Another small beer had disappeared into his stomach. “She’ll serve you well, I’m sure of it. Why don’t you take her for a ride right now?” Oozol swung himself into the saddle and actually took Lisande for a short ride, and Izzy couldn’t help but smile as he did so. Although Oozol had all the horses in the world at his disposal, something seemed to have changed for him. Perhaps he really hadn’t got over her mother all those years, Izzy mused, and Lisande was now a new beginning for him. The connection of goblins to their ponygirls would probably remain a mystery to Izzy forever; the strange mix of submission and affection — at least among the good goblins — just didn’t make much sense if you weren’t a goblin. The party then continued to develop splendidly. Luckily for Izzy, there were no humans to be seen, but that was little consolation after Bastian’s gaze from the hill. Hundreds of goblins already knew her as a ponygirl, she was registered and even living that life, and it was only a matter of time before the last human knew about it. A way back seemed increasingly difficult, even if Grall agreed. It was a depressing thought, but she wasn’t ready to give up hope just yet. There was always a possibility, no matter how unlikely it seemed. Even if Grall was now her friend again, it was still the life of a ponygirl, and she didn’t want to rule out the possibility that one day she might have to take a more extreme step. But how far would she have to travel before no one knew her any more and she would no longer be returned to the goblins — and her owner? — Late in the evening, Izzy was taken to the stables with Lisande. They shared a stable for the night and, to their surprise, both had their horse bits taken out of their mouths on Grall’s orders. They talked excitedly until the morning. As expected, Kreks hadn’t told Lisande about the bet or the conditions, instead he had threatened her with a severe punishment if she lost. “He tricked me,” Lisande grumbled. “You almost got caught too!” “It doesn’t matter now, he can’t hurt you any more,” Izzy reassured the other mare. “You’re Oozol’s horse now.” She bit her lower lip. It still felt strange to say something like that to another human, yet it was the truth. Like Izzy herself, Lisande was a horse, and Grall had every right to lend or give her away like that. As the hours passed, they found new topics and eventually Izzy dared a peek at Lisande’s butt, something she had strictly avoided until now. She already knew from shy glances out of the corner of her eye what she would find there, and yet it felt like a harbinger of her own future. It was a brand. Kreks mark was emblazoned on the pale skin and would forever remind Lisande of her former owner. “Did it hurt much?” Izzy asked cautiously. “Are you asking out of pity, or because you’re unsure when you’ll get yours?” Izzy raised an eyebrow. “That’s not going to happen!” she said seriously, although of course she knew it might not be her decision forever. “If you have any say in the matter,” Lisande said. “The branding was terrible. It’s one of the worst things the goblins can do to us. And they’re so terribly proud of it. You’ll see, Grall will press the hot brand on your ass with his own hands.” “Never!” Lisande laughed out loud. “You’re sitting here with a tail stuck in your ass and you really think it’s up to you? It’s all right, you’ll survive. Still, I’ve never quite understood why they’re doing this to us. I’ve seen ponygirls with multiple brandings. What’s the point?” Izzy shrugged her shoulders. “I think they just like to see us with their mark. Especially if it’s forever.” Lisande looked at Kreks’ mark. “Forever…” She swallowed. “Do you think Grall will give me his brand? Or Oozol?” She shivered, but Izzy didn’t know the answer to that. In the morning, Lisande was taken out of the stable first — her wounds were already well again thanks to the medicine — while Izzy was freed from her bridle and got her dress back. Her leg was a little better by now, but she was still left in the pony boots to protect it further, but Pexo removed the horseshoes. The boots disappeared almost completely under her dress, only those who looked closely could see them. It was strange for her to be able to swing her arms while walking again after such a long time. Some other things were also unusual, her ponytail was missing, even her head felt unusually light and free without a bridle. There was only one thing that still bothered her. Izzy reached between her legs, undid the last straps and threw the chastity belt across the square into a corner. It was a liberating feeling, but she also felt strangely naked now. Of course, everything was covered, as it should be, but the loose fabric did not give her the same security as the tight straps and her saddle. Lisande seemed to notice and neighed in amusement. Titan looked out of his stall and didn’t look amused that his mare was dressed up. Izzy winked at him and looked at the chastity belt lying in the dirt, and the stallion snorted happily. Izzy grinned back, even though she remembered Grall’s words well… as a human, she wasn’t meant for a stallion. Grall hobbled over to her and waved a piece of paper. ‘My dad just brought me this, it’s the new ownership documents.’ He was beaming from ear to ear and his eyes shone bright as the sun as Izzy read the certificate of ownership with her name — Buttercup — and dates. So it was official: Grall was her owner. How strange that felt, Izzy thought, her whole body shaking; she was wearing a dress and yet, she was property. Her friend, on the other hand, was beside himself with joy, but he had also just received a valuable animal and hadn’t been given away like a sack of potatoes. But she couldn’t entirely blame him either, she understood by now that this certificate was also a sign of his affection for her, even if she didn’t share his enthusiasm. But at least she was no longer owned by Oozol. She had respect for the old goblin, but she couldn’t help the feeling that she was safer with Grall — despite his many stupidities. Grall would never sell her, she was sure of that. “So, where are we going?” asked Izzy to change the subject. “To Udamos. Wait. I know what you’re going to say, but it’s a good start. They’ve probably forgotten about you by now and no one from the village will meet us there. If there’s any trouble, we’ll leave immediately. I promise.” “And how do we get there?” asked Izzy uncertainly. She actually wanted to ask about the brand for Lisande too, but it seemed better if the other horse wasn’t around in case the answer was bad. ‘We’ll take a cart,’ Grall explained and Izzy noticed Lisande being harnessed to a small carriage. The mare looked uncertainly at Izzy, who could only smile back awkwardly. Sometimes things change quickly. “Don’t worry, we can always go for a ride. You miss it already, don’t you?” he said in a silly tone and she blushed, even though she knew it was just a joke. Or so she hoped. He gave her a kiss on the forehead. “If necessary, I can even ride you back. My father reminded me of a little trick.” With nimble fingers, he pulled a travelling horse bit and some straps from his pocket. “I can ride you bareback anytime with these, isn’t that great?” “What, no! No way!” hissed Izzy, who had the strangest feeling she’d seen these things before. Something at the very back of her mind screamed out loud, and she was absolutely certain that she wouldn’t just let him make her his horse anytime, anywhere — even if she was legally always his ponygirl anyway. “Don’t worry, I’ve got Lisande with me today. But hopefully, we’ll try it out soon, it’ll be fun!” he said, but Izzy just rolled her eyes. Of course, he would have fun with it, but he wouldn’t be turned from human to horse in seconds either. Goblins, Izzy thought, and snorted. The two climbed into the wagon and Grall signalled Lisande to start running. The ponygirl looked over her shoulder at Izzy once more, then trotted off. It was obvious that she was inexperienced at pulling carts, but Grall gave her enough time to slowly get used to it. “Take good care of both of them,” Oozol called after his son. He looked at them from his rocking chair. “And don’t lose Izzy again right away. A city is dangerous, keep her close to you.” Izzy guessed that the old goblin wasn’t too keen on this trip — she could see it in his eyes — but at least he wasn’t preventing it. “Bring me Lisande back safe and sound, too. I’m not giving my heart away carelessly to a ponygirl.” Lisande stamped her feet, which was probably a sign of approval. For the first few meters, Saxea accompanied the carriage on Sunshine. It was a nice feeling for Izzy to be among friends — the two goblins, but also the two ponygirls. It was a rare peace that everyone had earned; even if Grall did have that awful travelling horse bit in his pocket. Just for a moment, Izzy thought back to Bastian; she pushed the thought aside. The class had already seen her as a ponygirl, how much worse could it get? “Udamos is far away, we should hurry,” Grall said, spurring Lisande on. She sprinted off while Saxea said goodbye and disappeared into the forest with Sunshine. Izzy felt the breeze under her dress and leaned back and relaxed. It was nice not to have to do the work herself, even if the sight of Lisande’s rhythmically swaying buttocks reminded her of what it felt like to pull a cart. She knew she wouldn’t be able to run as fast in the dress, but it was a small price to pay for her freedom. The word lingered in her mind; it wasn’t easy to think about it openly while another woman had to pull the cart in front of her as an animal. She knew very well the feeling of being just a means of transport, a workhorse at the service of the goblins. And now she was benefiting from it herself. But on the other hand, it was also a pleasant day, and Grall would have used Lisande for the journey anyway. Nevertheless, she decided to buy Lisande a small gift at the end of the journey if there was enough money left over. The three of them had been travelling for hours before the city walls appeared before them. Izzy gulped as she recognised the guards: They were the same ones from her previous visit, and she didn’t like that at all. But as Grall had noted earlier, with so many people it was practically impossible for most of them to recognise anyone. The guards were more concerned with Lisande — who cost 80 thalers deposit after all — and waved the empty cart through. The town was as noisy and crowded as ever, and Grall suggested they split up; he wasn’t a big fan of shopping sprees anyway, especially not for women’s stuff, he noted with a grin. “But your father warned us,” Izzy reminded him, and Lisande nodded in agreement. “He’s overreacting as usual. Besides, you’re very strong now. One kick and all will be well. Meet me at the gate in two hours, all right?” he suggested. “If you say so. I just want to buy a new dress. Speaking of which… I forgot to bring money!” His big grin really got on Izzy’s nerves, but at least he took a wallet out of his pocket and tossed her a few coins. “You’re not allowed to have money either, it’s forbidden for a… you know… to have money. That’s my money there, and you’re buying something on my behalf.” He winked, but Izzy wrinkled her nose. ‘Yes, master,’ she said, making an exaggerated curtsy. “You’re being silly. See you in two hours.” Grall urged Lisande on again, and Izzy watched the cart go by. The other ponygirl braced herself against the weight of the cart, sweat pouring down her body. They had been so similar that night, and now their lives were so different again. She felt how unfair that was, and a slight pang of guilt rose inside her. Sure, life with Grall was better than under Kreks, but a ponygirl was still a ponygirl. As a horse, she would never wear a dress again, or be truly free. The only question was whether Izzy could be free again, or whether this was just an illusion. The city was buzzing with life, merchants everywhere selling their wares, people doing their business — sometimes in more than one way… — while humans and goblins rushed through the streets. No-one seemed to remember Izzy, but that was a silly idea really, with thousands of people wandering the streets seemingly aimlessly. On her last visit, they had probably only recognised her because they had gone back to the blacksmith in a short time. Today she had a different destination: she had learnt that there was a separate district where mainly clothes were sold. Surely, there would be a shop there with some pretty dresses? She asked for directions and soon found herself in an alleyway where one shop followed the next. The houses were tall and cast deep shadows on the broken cobblestones. The shops were busy — with humans and goblins — and Izzy browsed through them. Some, to her disappointment, only had things for goblins, others were exclusive men’s shops, others only sold hats, shoes, or handbags. She probably had little use for the latter anyway — her arms were usually hidden under a saddle, after all. But a ponygirl in a hat would certainly look funny. “Excuse me,” Izzy asked three goblins who were talking outside a shop. The first one turned round and Izzy took a step back. The goblin was filthy and glared at her. He was missing a few teeth and his clothes were full of holes. “What do you want, human?” “It’s just… oh, not that important. I just wanted to know if there were any shops for dresses around here.” “Do I look like I know?” He spat on the floor. Izzy thanked him and hurried on, but the goblins looked after her and whispered until Izzy disappeared round the next corner. Luckily for her, she found herself in a large square full of nice little restaurants. She sat down at a free table and ordered a warm tea — she hadn’t had any for weeks and it smelled fantastic. But her belly was warmed even more by the smile of a young man from the neighbouring table. “First time in town?” he asked directly, probably used to talking to strange girls. “No, but I’ve never been to this part of town before,” replied Izzy, who was very familiar with this type of young man. Confident, direct, charming, and often hideously deceitful just to get into a young woman’s panties. But she wasn’t concerned about that today, she needed contact with people, and this was an easy way. “Are you always here talking to women?” “Every day,” he said cheekily. “Most people know that I’m a no-good guy. So do you, I can see that in your eyes. But you still talk to me. My name is Jonatan.” ‘Maybe I like that today?’ she whispered, rubbing her legs together. The lack of a chastity belt left her with a few options. How long was two hours really? Jonatan stood up and walked over to her table while Izzy adjusted her dress. His eyes travelled over her body and he already had the chair opposite her in his hand when his movement froze. “You’re… I don’t want anything to do with that.” He turned on the spot and marched out of the restaurant. Izzy looked after him in surprise, then looked down at herself. Her dress had slipped down slightly and the upper part of her number was exposed. So he had recognised what she was. She jumped to her feet and pulled her dress back up, only to hurry out of the restaurant before anyone else noticed. Her heart was pounding in her chest; this was close. She had to be more careful, the city was not a friendly place. Now a little more cautious, Izzy walked down the streets, finally finding a shop that offered what she was looking for. “Huberta’s Best Dresses” promised a lot: the shop window was decorated with gorgeous dresses, pictures, and fabrics; Izzy entered the shop to the ringing of the shrill doorbell, which jolted the old dressmaker out of what must have been a rather sweet dream. She greeted Izzy in a high-pitched singing voice and beckoned her deeper into the shop. — Choosing a suitable dress took well over an hour; Izzy had lost her sense of time. She slipped from one dress to the next — careful never to let her number slip — and each one she liked better than the last. Her fringe boots went uncommented on, even though they rarely went well with the dresses. In the end, she opted for a dress with a plunging neckline that only very barely concealed her registration number. Despite the initial shock, she wanted to enjoy the day to the full, and a little skin would certainly do her no harm, she just had to be careful. She hadn’t brought a brassiere — a horse just didn’t need one any more — so she had to make sure the dress stayed in place. The rest of Grall’s money was barely enough. She thanked the shopkeeper and stepped outside with renewed courage. She had not made it five meters when the three goblins came out of the shadows and blocked her path. “Please forgive me,” said the goblin from earlier. “We were a bit rude. My name is Udexo, and these are my brothers Pikex and Qax. You wanted to know where to buy nice clothes, did I get that right?” Izzy nodded slowly, but there was something about this situation she didn’t like. Other passers-by had also stopped, but that didn’t seem to bother these three goblins in the slightest. “I’ve already bought a new dress.” “We can see that. It looks good on you. Tell me, where are you from?” “None of your business.” The goblin smiled broadly. “Something about you caught our eye. Two things, actually. This place is a magnet for all kinds of folk, and the three of us are wondering if you don’t have something to tell us.” The goblins scattered around them. “Leave me alone or I’ll scream!” “There’s no reason for that. Why don’t you be a good girl and show us your right breast?” “Like hell I will!” Izzy hissed, but the goblins jumped on her. Their skilful hands pulled down her dress, revealing the registration number and her nipple rings. “What’s going on?” a guard demanded, rushing over. Izzy looked at him frantically, but before she could say anything, one of the goblins gagged her and another tied her hands behind her back while Udexo bound her legs. “Oh, I see you’ve captured a ponygirl. Those stupid things. How do they escape so often anyway? How can they be smart enough to do that, but then come to our town, which is full of horse-catchers?” He laughed and turned around. Izzy looked after him in despair as the goblins cut the dress from her body, exposing the tax tag. Hundreds of eyes stared at Izzy as she was dragged naked and bound by her arms and legs through the city by the goblins. There was no pity in the eyes of the humans and goblins; it was disdain — the humans looked down on her and the goblins spat on her because she had escaped from her master and owner. There could be no doubt in their minds about that, why else would horse-catchers be leading her — who had the markings of a ponygirl — around the city. “Your owner will surely reward us well; you’re a magnificent animal, you’ll be worth a lot of money to him,” Udexo said greedily. “Why don’t we sell her ourselves?” grunted Pikex, and Izzy howled unhappily. “She’s not branded yet, that’ll increase her value, surely a buyer will be found quickly.” Udexo scratched his chin. “That may be true, but if the guard finds out, we’ll no longer be welcome here.” So at least they weren’t necessarily horse thieves, just horrible creatures, Izzy thought. Qax swatted her on the rump, scratching her with his claws. “She needs to run faster. Faster!” Qax said. The three of them led her down a dark alley in the worst neighbourhood of the city. Izzy had looked around for Grall on the way, but he was nowhere to be seen; no wonder, they were on the other side of town and what reason would he have to look for her here? She was led into a filthy stable and tied to a post with her back to it, then her gag was removed. “Tell us where your stable is and we’ll bring you back,” Udexo offered. “You don’t need to be afraid, horses run away all the time, I’m sure you’ll only be lightly punished for that.” “I didn’t run away!” Izzy hissed. “My… owner wanted me to be here.” Although it was the truth, the word owner still hurt. Grall had taken on that role before, but now that it was official, the echo of the words drilled deep into her soul. She was her best friend’s property, and that wasn’t just a theory; she could see in his eyes that this was of great importance to him. She was his ponygirl; his possession, like a pair of pants or the magnificent riding shirt that made him so proud. She thought briefly of Lisande and the brand; a shiver ran down her spine. Now that she was standing here, tied to the post, the whole journey as a human felt like a game that had abruptly ended. The reality of a ponygirl was back. Why did it have to be Udamos? “No goblin lets his horse wear a dress. That’s unnatural. Humans don’t give pigs hats, and we don’t give ponygirls dresses. Now tell me, where is your stable? Speak, otherwise we’ll have to ask the registry, and that costs money, which we’ll get from your master. Then he’ll be even more angry. Why don’t you have a brand anyway?” “I don’t need one, he trusts me.” The goblins laughed out loud. “That obviously worked out well.” “He wanted me to buy a dress!” Izzy stomped on as best she could with the restraints. She would have loved to kick the three of them. As if her thoughts had been read, Udexo grinned. “Don’t get your hopes up, we know how to deal with an unwilling horse. So?” Izzy sighed, she just wanted to get home. “My owner is Grall, son of Oozol. Our village is…” Udexo raised his hand and silenced her. “We know where the farm of Oozol is. Everyone knows that. We’ve brought a few ponygirls to him over the years. He doesn’t pay well. But where else would such a magnificent animal come from? Are you a broodmare?” “Are you an idiot?” “Don’t be so cheeky. You’ll have to spend some time with us.” “Grall, he’s in town. Take me to him.” “No, we’ll take you straight to the farm. More effort, more money. Besides, I think I know who Grall is. The boy is still pale behind the ears. He has no money to pay for you. We’d better speak to Oozol directly.” He went into an adjoining room and came back with a bridle and saddle. “We’ll ride you back. Then we’ll see.” As before, when she wore a different saddle, Izzy quickly realised how uncomfortable they could be. It was a blessing that Grall had a better one made for her. As much as the thought still nagged at her, she couldn’t deny that he had taken care of her in that regard. Perhaps it was more a sign of love than she had previously acknowledged. The leather of the new saddle pinched at every turn and her arms barely fitted under the seat. The bridle didn’t fit well either, it rubbed against her head and the horse’s bit was old, grey and tasted disgusting. But none of that mattered once she was out of the city. All she had to do was throw off the goblins and run home. But the three of them weren’t going to make it that easy for her. Before she had even finished thinking about it, they replaced her shackles with two new ones connected by an iron chain. It gave Izzy enough room to walk, but running was out of the question. “Don’t look so disappointed, you’re not the first horse to try to throw us off at the gates,” Udexo said, tying two leashes to her nipple rings and wrapping them around his arm. “So you don’t run away from us. They say it hurts a lot when the rings are torn out.” He took a large whip, tucked it under his armpit and led Izzy out of the stable on a lead. “You two get your own horses, meet me at the west gate.” Izzy grumbled. That wasn’t the gate where Grall would be waiting for her. These goblins stank and were nasty, but unfortunately probably not as stupid as Izzy would have liked. “Tack!” Izzy went to her knees on instinct, hating herself for it. Even this scum could easily control her like any other ponygirl. Udexo climbed into the saddle and she stood up. The feeling of a new rider was still unfamiliar to her. Whilst this hideous goblin wasn’t her first new rider after Grall, it just felt wrong to have someone other than Grall riding her. Riding created a very intimate connection between horse and rider, Izzy knew that by now from personal experience, and nothing was quite as irritating as having another greenling on her back. The weight was wrong, the movements weren’t right, the breath smelled different; everything was unfamiliar and unwelcome, but the reins and whip left her no choice. She was not an equal partner on this ride, but once again just an animal. A horse. A ponygirl in the service of a goblin, whether she liked it or not. After a quick kick, she reluctantly started moving. Now that she was dressed as a ponygirl, most people no longer paid any attention to her, only her anklet still attracted some attention. But even now, people were still disgusted by her — as if it was her own fault that she had let herself be ridden by a goblin. She had no way of knowing that in her case there was a spark of truth in this. Udexo pulled on the reins and skilfully led her through the dense crowd out to the west gate. They had to wait a while, then Pikex and Qax joined them on two for-hire ponies. The two horses looked a little older and worn, and Izzy’s stomach tightened when she noticed the blank look on their faces. “Here we go then.” He gave Izzy another kick and rode them out of town. With the short chain between her legs, little more than a slow trot was possible. “We’ll have to spend the night halfway. Boys, keep your eyes open.” The journey was particularly arduous with the chain between her legs, and Udexo didn’t spare the whip, although Izzy couldn’t help the speed. He was a restless fellow on her back, and the conversations with his friends often made her shudder. She soon realised that these three also worked as thieves — if you could call them that — and generally never missed an opportunity, however disreputable, to earn a few thalers. Above all, however, she was only being used like an animal on this ride; again, she was just a means of transport, albeit one with value in this case. This was not about her personality, her humour, her looks or what she had to say; it was only about her usefulness as a mount and her value as a merchandise; nothing more. — The sun had already disappeared deep behind the trees before Udexo steered them towards a small clearing at the side of the path. “We’ll do the rest of the route tomorrow. I hope you don’t have a problem sleeping standing up, do you?” Izzy neighed miserably. Could a human even sleep standing up? As much as goblins loved to treat humans like ponies, they usually knew very well that ponygirls weren’t real horses either. “Pony can lie down after drinking,” Qax mocked, pulling his trousers down only to pee a little at Izzy’s feet. “Thirsty?” Izzy turned away with utter disgust in her eyes. This was too much to ask, even for her, who had already experienced so many humiliations. This was a line she simply couldn’t cross. To her horror, her two companions were less shy; life as a rent horse must have brought its own challenges. The two horses got down on their knees and took what the goblins offered them, only to be allowed to lie on the ground as a reward. Izzy, on the other hand, remained tied to the tree, standing; Qax had thrown her reins over a branch and made sure Izzy couldn’t lower her head. “Grall, save me!” she pleaded unintelligibly through the horse’s bit, but it was hopeless. — The night was unpleasant. Cold wind whipped past the trees, and Izzy found it impossible to sleep standing up. Not that she felt safe enough to do so with these goblins around, but even as it was, it was dreadful. The next morning, the goblins didn’t share food or drink — at least not the kind Izzy would tolerate — with their horses, and so Izzy’s next ride began with aching bones, hunger, and thirst. Despite the slow pace, they couldn’t be far from Oozol’s farm, Izzy thought, after all they had already walked a long way yesterday; but she wasn’t sure if that was really a good thing. They were on the main road and it was only a matter of time before the first people from the village would see them. She looked around uneasily, but she heard the laughter before she saw the familiar faces at the roadside. “You were right, she really has become an animal,” Grunhilda mocked and poked Bastian in the side, who laughed along loudly, but his eyes remained strangely serious. “That’s what I told you. She ran a real race and won.” For a moment, Izzy thought she heard something like astonishment in his voice. That was impossible; why would he feel anything other than pure disgust? His eyes followed her closely. “Is that your horse? Has Grall finally sold the useless cow?” Grunhilda asked Udexo, who had been ignoring the students until now. “No, she just ran away. Horses often do that.” Udexo gave Izzy one with the whip, who neighed loudly to her own displeasure. It was an instinct, and hideously embarrassing. “I’ll bring her back, for a reward.” “Someone’s paying for her?” “Of course. She’s a valuable object.” Grunhilda gave a dirty laugh. “At least as an animal, you’re worth something.” Izzy would have loved to kick them, but unfortunately that was out of the question with her legs tied up. The unwanted onlookers accompanied them for a while, then to Izzy’s relief they parted ways. She looked after them briefly, but only Bastian turned round again. It was strange; only yesterday she had wanted to go back to humans, but now it seemed almost safer among goblins. She practically longed for her stable, where she would no longer be stared at, laughed at or regarded as a curiosity. She was a ponygirl in the stables, but that was normal there. — “What’s going on here?” asked Oozol as the three riders rode through the gate. “Where is my son?” “Oozol, my best, don’t you recognise your old friend Udexo, who has already brought you back so many horses?” Grall’s father’s eyes narrowed to a slit. “You mean the horse thief who first stole them from me and then kindly offered them to me for a reward? “If that’s the way you want to put it, maybe we’ll just take your horse with us again.” Udexo patted Izzy on the side and leaned on her shoulder. “Where your son is, we don’t know. We picked up his horse alone in the city. Anything could have happened to her there. Just imagine!” “I don’t have to, I can see it right in front of me,” Oozol murmured. “I’m warning you: If you have done anything to my son, the island isn’t big enough for you to hide.” The four eyed each other suspiciously. Luckily for Oozol, the yard was full of grooms, who slowly spread out around the square. They may be small, but for goblins they had strong arms due to the hard labour. Sunshine skirted the horse thieves and stood in front of the yard gate where she stamped her hooves threateningly; no one would leave the yard without her permission; and certainly not with Izzy. A wave of relief washed over Izzy. As many unpleasant memories as the farm brought, she could still rely on the horses — and Sunshine in particular. “Now we can talk.” “No need for trouble, I’m sure he just needs to walk.” Just at that moment, Grall came riding up on Lisande — he had obviously left the cart behind. He was as pale as night and his eyes widened when he saw Izzy. “There you are. I thought you’d run off. I searched the whole town for you, but no one knew where you were!” Izzy neighed nervously and tried to throw the goblin off her back, but Udexo cracked his whip hard and kept a firm grip on the reins. “You are Grall, I remember you. Then you own this mare?” “She’s mine, she’s my property!” said Grall sharply, and the pride in those words didn’t escape Izzy. It was a clear statement, but also something he would certainly like to shout to the whole world. “Hand her over!” Udexo laughed. “She shall be yours again, but first I want to see some money for my troubles. After all, she ran away from you in the city and we had to go to some lengths to get her here. 5,000 thalers certainly isn’t wrong, is it?” “What?” Grall almost fell out of the saddle. “Who do you think you are?” “A horse-catcher; and you’re a boy who can’t look after his pony. You may outnumber us here,’ he hurriedly counted the grooms, “but we can cause some problems too.” As if in passing, he took a knife from his pocket and cut off a strand of Izzy’s hair. “It’s only a small finder’s fee.” Grall looked at his father, but he just snorted. “That was your stupid idea, son,” said Oozol. “You’ll have to pay for it. “Wait here,” said Grall and ran into the house, from where he emerged after a while with a bag full of coins. “Thirty-five hundred thalers. That’s all I have.” Lisande joined Sunshine and looked at the horse catchers with a gloomy expression. Udexo leaned forwards out of the saddle. “Then you can have just as much of your horse. We could cut off her arms and keep them. She doesn’t need them, does she?” Izzy bristled and struck out, but the goblin would not be thrown off. “A wild animal. Someone like you can handle that? Five thousand thalers, or we have a serious problem.” “Fine, I’ll keep looking.” Grall threw the money to his father and disappeared back into the house, after which he walked the stables and even disappeared into the forest. It took him over an hour before he had collected a pile of coins, some of which still had dirt on them. “4290 thalers. That’s all I’ve got. Are we in business?” “Don’t let anyone say we’re being unreasonable.” He brought his knife to Izzy’s head to everyone’s shock. “Don’t be so nervous, I just want a trophy.” He yanked at Izzy’s mane and cut off her long hair. “That hair was terrible anyway. You need to take better care of your mare.” He tied the mane in a knot on his belt and jumped off. Then he grabbed the money. “We’ll keep an eye on your Buttercup in the future in case she escapes again.” He winked and a shiver went down Izzy’s spine. “You can keep the saddle.” “Have you learnt your lesson?” asked Oozol as they both took Izzy to the stables. “The outside world is dangerous for a wandering ponygirl. You’ve ventured too far out. A town may be anonymous, but you don’t know who you’ll meet either. I’ll send a rider to Matheus. We were both worried yesterday when you two didn’t come back.” “Why didn’t you help me? They tried to hurt Buttercup!” Oozol shook his head. “These men are rough and have bad manners, but they’re not fools. They wouldn’t have risked a fight for a few thalers, besides, they would never have left the farm with Buttercup, Sunshine and Lisande would have made sure of that. Besides, I knew exactly how much money you had. I know your hiding spots.” “Owning an animal makes you poor quickly!” Grall lowered his eyes, then led Izzy across the yard. “I was terribly afraid for you. Where’s your dress anyway?” He took the old horse bit out of Izzy’s mouth and threw it in a bin. “My old dress is in the bin and the new one — it was so beautiful — they just cut it up.” “We’ll buy you a new one. But we have to be more careful. Udamos was probably not the right place. Or…” Grall bit his tongue. “Or what?” asked Izzy sharply. “Or we can leave it at that. I know I promised you, but I’m scared for you too. What if they don’t bring you back here next time?” “You want me to be just your ponygirl?” “And my best friend. We now know what we have to do. Isn’t that enough?” Izzy shook herself. “It’s not enough for me!” She sighed exhaustedly. “Can I go into my stable?” “Later. But if we want to get back into the human world, we need a plan. With guys like these around, we need to be prepared. We’re not splitting up any more. And I need to be able to prove you’re my horse if necessary.” He took the travelling horse bit out of his pocket and Izzy snorted unhappily as he took the saddle from her. “Give it a chance. If it helps us get you walking around as a human again without danger, it’s not so bad, is it? I’m sure you’ll like it,” he said as he put the horse bit in her mouth. Izzy folded her arms behind her back of her own accord. “You know how to do that, don’t you?” he asked in surprise, but Izzy just shook her head; she didn’t know herself how she’d guessed how to ride bareback — and she didn’t want to think about it either. He climbed onto her back and slid his legs under her armpits, resting his bum on her arms. It was a strange sensation for Izzy, one she would have gladly done without. Without a saddle, he was unusually close to her, with nothing but thin fabric separating them. Over the next few hours, they both practised finding their balance as she felt him close to her skin and heard his breathing in her ear. It was a different kind of riding, and Izzy strained to think why it seemed so familiar. Soon Grall left his shirt behind as well and they both swept through the warm forest as one being. It wasn’t as bad as Izzy had feared, and yet it was humiliating in its own way. Because even if he decided to give her another day as a girl in the future, she knew he would always have something with him to make her his animal again and ride wherever he pleased. She was only one reach into his pocket away from having him on her back again, and the thought would never leave her. Was that still freedom, or just an illusion, a nice little lie they were both allowing themselves? And did she even want to go back to the humans? She had experienced nothing but ridicule and rejection from everyone except her father and the ponygirls lately. Maybe there was no way back. As she continued to run through the forest, she thought of Bastian again. That strange look in his eyes, what did it mean? A special kiss Izzy watched the morning activity on the farm thoughtfully from her stable, as she had done dozens of times before. All of this had become her new normal; she was a part of the farm, and the farm was a part of her. But there were differences, she knew — things that applied only to her, but not to any of the other horses. The chastity belt was wrapped around her groin again; Grall had promised her that he would always take it off when she was travelling as a human, but as a horse on the farm he insisted on it — and as her owner he was allowed to. She was also the only mare who was occasionally allowed to be in the stable without a horse bit, and only she was sometimes asked for her opinion. Even Lisande, who was now Oozol’s horse, would probably not enjoy these advantages. But no matter how you looked at it, she was still standing with her arms tied in a stable whose door was locked so that she could look out, but she couldn’t go anywhere without her owner’s permission. This was not a punishment, as it would have been for a prisoner, but simply practical thinking on the part of the goblins, who always wanted their property — their valuable possessions — to be precisely where it belonged. Just as you put a shoe outside the door, an unused ponygirl belonged in a stable. Even though Grall wasn’t lying when he called her his best friend, she was also his ponygirl, and for him — and for all goblins — she belonged in a stable. The separation of ponygirls and humans was apparent in this way, not to mention the other clear signs. She could still hide them, but how long would it be before there were marks that remained visible? Her way back would be blocked forever. She thought of Bastian again, and something deep in her heart tightened. That strange look… “Good morning,” Pexo fluted, snapping her out of her thoughts. “How’s your leg?” He opened the stable door and patted her on the bum, but — of course — didn’t take the horse bit out of her mouth. Instead, he ran his hands down her leg and lifted her foot to examine the joint. In fact, the pain had almost subsided by now, but she wished she could just tell him that. “That looks good. This calls for a little surprise! Close your eyes. Tack!” Izzy looked at him uncertainly, then got down on her knees and squeezed her eyes shut. She felt his rough fingers on her face and a gooey liquid that he was spreading all over it. She would have liked to see what he was doing, but she didn’t dare open her eyes for fear that something might drip into her eyes. More and more of the liquid covered her skin until Pexo was finally satisfied. She felt him drying her face with a cloth, then heard him take a few steps back on the straw, which to her deep shame was a little damp. “Open your eyes.” She blinked and stared in shock at the small hand mirror he held in front of her face, in which her brightly painted face was reflected with her eyes wide open. Pexo hadn’t left a single piece of skin untouched, and fine patterns adorned her cheeks and forehead. She swallowed. In this part of the island, it was customary for humans and goblins to paint their animals brightly once a year and parade them through the villages so that everyone could marvel at the wealth of their owners. Izzy had never liked it much. She could understand it with cows, chickens and horses, but this close to the goblin border, it was mostly half-naked women who were paraded through the villages by their owners. The pride in the goblins’ eyes when dozens of colourfully painted women followed them on a lead was etched deep in Izzy’s memory, and yet she hadn’t thought about it for a long time. Oozol was one of the few who had never joined in, though with so many ponygirls on the farm it would probably have been impractical. More importantly, Izzy had completely forgotten the date; or rather, it had lost all meaning to her. There was no calendar in a stable, and there was nothing to plan when you were an animal. Only humans and goblins did that. It was more proof of how far she had drifted away from it. “Is something wrong?” asked Grall — wearing his finest school clothes again — from the doorway, then he stopped abruptly. “No, Pexo, I wanted to ask her first!” He ran to Izzy and hurriedly took the horse bit out of her mouth. “Really? I thought it was a joke. I know she’s different from the others, but why would you ask her first?’ Pexo said uncertainly and patted Izzy lightly on the bottom again. “What’s wrong with that?” Izzy snapped at him. “It’s not the sort of thing a horse should decide,” Pexo said, and it didn’t escape Izzy’s notice that he had said it to Grall and not to her. “It’s too late now, but it looks good, you’ve got talent.” Grall took Izzy’s face in his hand and looked at Pexo’s work from all sides. “What do you say Buttercup, do you like it? It’s the best colour I could find.” Real pride resonated with his words, and again Izzy realised that as a goblin, he had such a wholly different view on such matters. For him, it must be a sign of love and devotion to see her painted in this way — after all, he would be out in public with her like this. He smiled as if he had given her precious jewellery and not had a clear sign of submission painted on her skin. Izzy grumbled and turned her head to examine the whole work in the mirror. Her lips were obscenely red, as were her ears, while her cheeks were covered in a surprisingly intricate pattern that she wouldn’t have given Pexo credit for. On her forehead, he had painted a simple version of Grall’s mark that made their connection all too clear. She hardly looked like a human in such colourful make-up; but she would certainly hardly stand out in a herd of similarly painted cows. “There’s a little celebration later, and as the winner of the race, I wanted you to be especially pretty,” Grall squeaked. He rubbed his arm and avoided her gaze, like a little boy who had given his mother a bouquet of flowers, but had briefly forgotten that you weren’t allowed to steal flowers from your neighbour’s garden even for such noble purposes. “Wash it off,” Izzy demanded brusquely. “Right now.” She stamped furiously, enjoying the little jump Grall and Pexo made at that. She might be Grall’s horse, but she was a horse that couldn’t be easily ignored. “I’ll do it myself,” said Grall and sent Pexo to fetch a bucket of water and a sponge. But no matter how hard he rubbed, the colour remained stubborn. It may have faded a little, but it was still clearly visible. “It won’t come off,” he whined. “This colour is worth the money…” “You didn’t test it first?” Izzy shouted in anger. “You…” “Is there any trouble here?” asked Oozol from the doorway. “Why aren’t you in school yet?” “The paint won’t come off!” grumbled Izzy. “And why exactly is that a problem? The colour lasts a few days, or longer. Besides, you look fantastic with it, as you should. Get on your way, I don’t want Grall to be late for class.” “I’m not going out the door like that!” shouted Izzy. “No way!” Oozol crossed his arms. “And why not? Because then everyone would think you’re a ponygirl?” His smug grin annoyed Izzy, partly because he had hit a sore spot. “It’s humiliating!” “Buttercup, it’s a tradition here, you know that. Besides, it’s a bit silly to complain about a bit of colour while your ponytail is swaying between your legs. Get going, you’re already late.” He gave her one of her favourite sweets on the flat of his hand and stroked her head. Izzy’s gaze could have lit a fire, but as always, the ponytail was too clear a sign of where she belonged. The tail was both a curse and a blessing: she loved the feeling, but it also left no doubt that it was far too late for shame. Grall hurriedly saddled Izzy and rode her at a fast gallop to the school. Mexi must have ridden ahead as the gate to her estate was open. At the school itself, unfortunately for her, Izzy was the only painted ponygirl that morning, although she guessed the others would be painted later that day. Still, it felt strange for Izzy to be particularly recognisable as an animal even amongst the other ponygirls. Albaea seemed oblivious to Izzy’s worries, always bouncing around excitedly and looking at Izzy’s colour with great curiosity; as Izzy suspected, it was her first festival of this kind — such a thing was by no means common everywhere. Sunshine, on the other hand, just grumbled. The only bright spot of the day was that Izzy soon learnt that Kreks hadn’t turned up at school today. After the defeat, he had probably switched to homeschooling for now, and Izzy wasn’t particularly unhappy about that. “You look good,” said Matheus. Grall had just taken Izzy to the stables, where her father was already waiting for her. He gave his daughter a kiss on the forehead. “Grall can paint well with his fingers, I wouldn’t have thought he was capable of that. His father is a complete failure at everything artistic. A good man and friend, but he couldn’t even draw a house if his life depended on it. He simply lacks imagination. He’s very practical, but I’m sure you’ve realised that by now.” Izzy tried to correct him, but with the horse bit in her mouth, she couldn’t. Instead, he patted her lightly on the bottom, as was customary with ponygirls. A simple gesture of comfort that didn’t require an intelligent response. “You’ll be the most beautiful ponygirl in the whole village.” He noticed her uncertain look. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be able to be human again. Your trip to Udamos was very unfortunate, but it doesn’t always have to be that way. He told me about the travelling horse bit, that’s a good idea. That way you can wander around the forest, but if necessary ride back quickly. You have to adapt a bit, life doesn’t always take the straight path; sometimes it takes twists and turns that we don’t foresee.” He still hadn’t taken the horse bit out of Izzy’s mouth, and she was beginning to suspect that he was doing it on purpose. Maybe it was just his way of making her life easier by treating her “appropriately”, but it didn’t make a real conversation any easier. She mumbled something through the horse bit and wiggled her linked arms. “Better not, Grall told me he wants to take you for a ride soon. He’s your owner now, you have to listen to him. You two are good friends, I’m sure you’ll find a way for you both to be happy with it. I trust you will.” Izzy rolled her eyes, but her father just grinned at her. “Smile for me. Just once.” She grimaced as best she could with the horse bit. “That’s good.” But Izzy grumbled again and looked over her shoulder at her bottom. Matheus was clearly skilled at interpreting the words of a ponygirl with horse bits in her mouth. “I’m sorry, my angel, but the whip is just part of it. Your mum was my everything, but every so often she was also Oozol’s ponygirl. I often saw her with a red bottom after a ride. She never complained because she knew it was normal for a horse. You’ll get used to it and maybe even miss it. Once Oozol didn’t need her for a while, I had to whip… no, let’s not go into that,” he said, and Izzy’s eyes widened. “There’ll be lots of painted ponygirls in the village today, but you’ll be the prettiest. Make Grall proud. Goblins care a lot about their ponygirls, you know that. Always remember, you are his ponygirl. And he is your rider.” Izzy neighed. “You’re right, you are different from the other ponygirls. I’ll talk to him so he doesn’t forget that. I promise. Your mum wasn’t a normal ponygirl, and neither are you. You’re special.” — “Where’s Buttercup?” Mexi’s lofty voice rang across the courtyard. Izzy lifted her head and saw the smiling goblin girl waving to her. Next to her stood an already very excited Albaea, but also Saxea with her Sunshine, who was clearly very unhappy. A couple of pots of colour stood next to both horses. Grall took Izzy out of the stable and tied her up next to the other two ponygirls, while Pexo brought Lisande. She didn’t seem too keen either, but all four ponygirls had no say in the matter — except perhaps Izzy, but Grall’s enthusiasm had already provided her with plenty of colour. Oozol was nowhere to be seen, which was no surprise to Izzy after her father’s explanation. “Who’s going first?” Mexi asked, but before Saxea could say anything, Albaea had already jumped forward and knelt in front of her owner. “I guess that means we have a volunteer.” Lisande and Sunshine rolled their eyes and both looked briefly at Izzy, who understood perfectly well that they were both lumping Izzy and Albaea together as breed ponies. Izzy couldn’t even blame them, after all she was standing in front of them with her already colourful head. “But red is mine!” Saxea said and brought Sunshine to her knees with a Zhrak. Sunshine took her time, it was almost comical how long Saxea had to wait before Sunshine was on her knees, snorting and grumbling. “Little drama queen. You’ll see, you’ll look great!” It didn’t take a mind reader to realise that Sunshine disagreed, but what difference did it make when you had a horse bit in your mouth and your hands tied behind your back, Izzy thought. After all, she herself was no different. Bit by bit, the girls spread colour on the faces of their ponygirls while Grall painted Lisande. To her surprise, he achieved an astonishingly attractive result. Soon the faces of the other ponygirls were as colourful as Izzy’s. Albaea’s skin was adorned with a filigree light-coloured pattern that alternated with dark lines and followed the natural shapes of her finely cut face. Mexi looked rightly proud of it, and Albaea was also delighted. Sunshine’s mood had not improved, partly because Saxea had turned her into a fiery red dragon. It wasn’t a very good job, but at least Sunshine would still be easy to recognise from a great distance. The mare couldn’t breathe fire, but her look was enough to scare away even the bravest knight. Lisande, on the other hand, just seemed relieved to have it over with. Her pattern was similar to Izzy’s, but with the colours and shapes of Oozol’s own mark. The three goblins looked at the ponygirls with great satisfaction. “You should colour Izzy a bit more, she won the race after all. You should celebrate that!” Mexi suggested, smiling warmly at Izzy, who only grumbled. “That’s a great idea,” said Grall, but then he noticed Izzy’s look and added hastily. “But I should lead her behind the stable first. Wait a minute!” He untied Izzy’s lead, which was attached to her breast rings, and led her behind the stable, where he hurriedly took the horse’s bit from her mouth. “Lesson learnt, I promise! This time I’ll ask you first. Will you allow it?” “No, of course not!” hissed Izzy. “The colour on my face is bad enough. Why do you want it anyway?” Grall squirmed and scuffed his feet in the dirt. “I would like to write a little message on your bottom… something for Mexi, if you know what I mean.” “I don’t know!” Izzy barked, and would have liked to cross her arms, but of course, that wasn’t possible. Not for a ponygirl. “Oh come on. Please. Please, please. Please!” he begged, prancing in front of her. It was a bit annoying, but also cute, she thought. “No!” “What do I have to do to get you to allow it?” Izzy grinned. “Tack!” He dropped to his knees in front of her. “Hey, wait a minute…!” he stammered, looking up at her from below with wide eyes. He immediately jumped up again and patted his trousers clean. “Come on, don’t be so mean.” Izzy struggled to swallow her laughter. “It’s okay, you can, but only because I like Mexi. Don’t think you’re always allowed to do that, it’s an exception!” “Thank you! You’re the best friend in the whole world!” “Tack!” He went down on his knees again, letting go of her lead. Before he could say anything, Izzy rushed back to the others, laughing, while Grall ran after her with dirty knees. — “Done!” said Grall proudly, and finally Izzy was allowed to turn around. Her whole body was adorned with splendid colours, only her breasts were painted in a single, bright yellow that made them stand out clearly from the rest of her body — even more than usual. She was a little ashamed of it, but as a horse you had to put up with it. More important, however, was the large heart emblazoned on her bum, bearing the initials of Grall and Mexi. “You’re hopeless romantic,” Mexi whispered and gave Grall an intense kiss, which visibly disgusted Saxea in particular. “Enough, or I’ll puke!” Saxea said loudly. “Mexi, that’s my brother. Eww!” But Mexi just smiled. “We’ll continue this later. Come on, let’s show the village our beautiful horses. They’ll be amazed!” Izzy neighed unhappily, but it was clear that she had no choice either. Grall dressed her in her mother’s pony boots — to calm her down a little — which once again had the hooves with the royal coat of arms nailed to them. “You’ll be fine. Don’t worry, this is normal for a ponygirl,” Grall reassured her, and strangely enough, these words did not fail to have an effect. Here, in this group, it really was normal; and normality brought stability and security. “Later, we’ll see how we can get you back into a dress, all right? Don’t think I’ve forgotten. As long as you want that, we’ll find a way.” Oozol joined them and the four goblins gave their horses a kick. It was strange for Izzy to be ridden in such a large group, but being around the other horses actually gave her some strength. She had never been a member of such an intimate and strong group as she was with these ponygirls and goblins. Before, she had been a loner whose only friend was Grall, but now everything felt so much bigger and more meaningful. Life as a ponygirl wasn’t all bad, she thought. While Grall led the way with the reins, her gaze wandered a little. The streets were crowded, but as usual, the humans kept their animals away from the goblins to avoid any trouble. Nevertheless, Izzy noticed a farmer and his daughter chasing two cows along a forest track further away from the road. He, too, must be on his way to a festival where there were certainly no goblins present. Like Izzy, the cows were brightly painted, their heads shining, and their coats painted with elaborate patterns all over their bodies. The daughter, on the other hand, wore a simple dress and gave the cows a good reason to run with her whip. Although the girl herself was quite stocky and strong, it didn’t escape Izzy’s notice that she herself now had more in common with the cows than with the young woman. Like the cows, she was a farm animal that had been controlled by someone and was now being led to the celebration, brightly painted so that everyone could marvel at her owner’s wealth. One of the cows looked over at Izzy and their eyes met; never before had Izzy looked into the eyes of a cow, and never before had she felt the thoughts of another being so clearly, even without words. Grall gave Izzy a light tap with the whip as she slowed outside the village. “You don’t need to be afraid. Get it over with and you’ll feel freer afterwards,” he said. Oozol agreed. “Sooner or later, they’ll have to accept you as a ponygirl.” That wasn’t Izzy’s problem of course, she didn’t doubt that they would accept her as a ponygirl, it was more that she didn’t know if she wanted that herself. But goblins were goblins, and thought differently to humans — or ponygirls. “I’m sure people have heard about your victory, no one will be surprised to see you under a saddle. Keep your head up, show them that you’re proud to be a horse.” That was easier said than done, yet he was quite right; her best chance was not to draw any attention to herself. She walked slowly into the village and felt the first glances on her. People turned around to look at her, whispered and pointed their fingers at her. Some even ran off to tell others about it. With every meter, there were more people on the street, obviously the gossip had faster legs than Izzy — which was a surprise in itself. Sunshine cuddled Izzy lightly to cheer her up, and Lisande did the same. As always, Albaea was overdoing it a little, but Izzy also suspected that she didn’t really understand why Izzy was so uncomfortable. Albaea was clearly enjoying the attention, but for her, life as a ponygirl was the only life she knew. But Izzy noticed one thing in particular: There was no surprise on any of their faces. So the news of her life as a ponygirl and probably her race had long been known everywhere. Instead, the faces of the humans were filled with a mixture of mockery, disgust, and a look given to someone who, through their own fault, had reached rock bottom. But maybe it was just the shock of seeing a girl from their village being ridden by a goblin. The ponygirls were usually strangers; it was easier not to see them as human, woman, or girl. Izzy, however, was well known, and yet she wore a saddle, a horse bit, a ponytail and was steered into the village with reins. The truth about the ponygirls was probably only now being fully realised by some. Izzy quickly realised something else: no matter how much attention she received, no one was coming to rescue her. It was as she had suspected; the goblins’ law was respected by all — even if it wasn’t loved. On their way, they also passed Izzy’s former classmates, Grunhilda in particular giggling loudly. “Here comes our little horse again. We’ve told everyone about you, am I right, Bastian?” Bastian nodded silently. The laughter followed Izzy, who would have loved to hide in the nearest pile of straw — but it seemed to have come straight from the stable of a horse that wasn’t quite housebroken yet. “Just ignore them,” said Oozol calmly. “They’ll soon get bored. Humans don’t understand ponygirls.” Ponygirls. Humans. Izzy sighed. There was that separation again; and hearing the certainty with which Oozol said the word ponygirl left no doubt as to where Izzy belonged. But at least the four ponygirls weren’t alone in the village. Other goblins had also brought their horses, even Kreks and his father — albeit without horses — were present. Kreks gave Izzy a dirty look, but said nothing after his father gave him a stern look. Still, it was enough to send a shiver down Izzy’s spine. The festival was already in full swing and they had to force their way through the crowd. Izzy received some compliments from the goblins, who probably didn’t just like her new colouring. Her performance in the race — despite her injured leg — received many favourable comments, as did her general appearance. Grall thanked them many times and rode Izzy to a free post far at the edge of the square, where he tied her to the nipple rings with a short lead, as was customary with horses, even if it was a particularly humiliating way to be secured. But here and now she was a horse; not just for Grall, for everyone present. The other mares were tied to another post a few meters away. But there was one difference that Grall had not forgotten, much to Izzy’s relief. She had to bend over for him briefly, then he took the horse bit out of her mouth. “Don’t look so grumpy,” he said, stroking her leg. “It’s a celebration, enjoy it!” Izzy rolled her eyes. “And how am I supposed to if you tie me up here?” He looked at her awkwardly. “I’m sorry, you know what the rules are. But you can still talk to people and you can listen to the music all the same.” Before she could object, he disappeared into the crowd with Mexi in his arms, probably to get his first beer. Saxea and Oozol had also left, leaving the four ponygirls to themselves. But that brought a new problem. While the goblins had already forgotten about them, Grunhilda headed straight for Izzy with Bastian and some other students from the school. She turned away in a hurry, but secured by the nipple rings, there was no escape. “How is our good little horse? Everything all right with you?’ Grunhilda asked with a big grin on her face before slapping Izzy hard on the ass. “No? That doesn’t surprise me. After all, your owner doesn’t trust you. Why else would you be standing here tied up and wearing a chastity belt, am I right?” There was more venom in her words than in the fangs of a snake; but above all, Izzy noticed how Bastian’s eyes wandered over her colourfully painted body to her chastity belt. Again and again and again. “Get lost and leave me alone,” Izzy threatened, almost burning red with anger, but it would certainly have been more impressive if she hadn’t been bent over and tied to a stake with a ponytail stuck deep in her bottom; another detail that got some attention from Bastian. Grunhilda grimaced. “Do you talk to your owner like that? You’re a naughty horse! Bastian, what are you staring at?” “What? Oh, I… she’s such… an animal!” “That’s right. Disgusting, isn’t it?” “Of course… disgusting!” Bastian said curtly. Izzy scuffed her hooves. She would have loved to kick Grunhilda, but she knew that wasn’t a good idea; it would bring her into conflict with humans AND goblins. But maybe, just maybe, it was worth it after all… “Look at her ass and her tits. The naughty little horse has to be punished often,’ Grunhilda continued, and the girls in particular laughed, while the boys — especially Bastian — took the opportunity to have a closer look at the situation. “She even has a registration number. At school, it was painted on, but this is real! You’re a disgrace to all of us girls. How could you degrade yourself like that and willingly turn yourself into an animal?” She took Izzy’s ponytail in her hand and gave it a quick tug. Izzy glared angrily at Grunhilda. “It wasn’t like that… you’re too stupid to get it!” “Oh, then you’re not a ponygirl? Look at me.” Grunhilda took Izzy’s head in her hands and turned her around to face her. “Go on, tell me what you are.” Izzy pressed her lips together. “Choke on it!” Izzy hissed. “Say it!” she demanded again, and Bastian slapped her ass. She felt his rough fingers on her flesh and noticed how he swallowed. His hand had left a red mark on her rump. “Say it!” “All right!” Izzy grumbled. She was used to worse beatings, but this was the first time a human had done it. It wasn’t that the pain was the problem, rather, she felt a now familiar warmth rising inside her. Bastian’s touch had awakened something in her… “I’m a… ponygirl” Her voice trembled. “Louder. Tell us everything!” “I’m a horse…” She swallowed. “A ponygirl of the goblins,” Izzy said, and they all waited for her to continue. “I belong to Grall, and he rides me.” With each word, she found it a little easier, partly because each new word distanced her further from these people who tormented her. Anything was better than being like them. It was as if a dam had broken and the truth roared down into the valley. The cards were now on the table, but the others didn’t even understand what had happened. They thought it was just a mean joke, but for Izzy, something had changed in herself. “See, that wasn’t so hard after all,” Grunhilda said, but Izzy just spat at her feet. Much to Izzy’s displeasure, her humiliation did not end there. Behind her, she heard a familiar and unwelcome voice that sent a shiver down her saddled spine. “Well, well, there’s our class horse. Saddled and tethered, waiting for its owner,” Mrs Flinchel sneered, pushing the students aside. “Normally, I only teach you at school, but here you can see what happens when you take the wrong path. Take a good look, you’d better not have to learn this lesson yourselves. You can’t sink any lower.” “Leave the horse alone,” a goblin snarled from the side. Izzy looked up and recognised Grall’s teacher, who looked strangely improper in the village in a fine suit and walking stick. “Cruelty to animals is only for people with bad morals.” “Colleague Aridos,” said Mrs Flinchel in a cold voice. “Your heart for the unloved is impressive as always. How is your class?” The goblin teacher walked with leisurely steps around Mrs Flinchel, who had to turn slowly with him. The man took his time to answer and Izzy waited anxiously for his words. Mr Aridos seemed completely relaxed, his walking stick swinging casually through the air as he looked smugly up at Mrs Flinchel from under his hat. “Surely, you remember our last little competition before the holidays…” Mr Aridos stopped, adjusted his large glasses and leaned on his walking stick; the smile had not left his face. “The tests we gave our students alike. It was a difficult test, and all the better for testing their aptitude; and ours.” Mrs Flinchel drew her eyebrows together, which only made Mr Aridos grin even wider. “In any case, the evaluation has shown a clear picture. I’m sorry to inform you that most of your students failed, while my students all passed. Interestingly, only this horse here did well in history. Maths was not her strong point, but that can be said of all your students.” Mrs Flinchel was almost boiling with anger. “To hell with you, you little monster.” “Judging by your test, neither you nor your students would find the entrance to it even if it were right behind your school. No offence, my dear colleague, but Buttercup has it better here now than at your school.” Izzy was surprised that the teacher knew her name, but Grall must have told him about her in class. She stuck her tongue out at Mrs Flinchel. “You’ve been a terrible teacher. And besides, we all knew you came to school drunk every Monday.” She didn’t know where she suddenly found the courage to say that out loud, but it was enough to make Mrs Flinchel turn pale. Her students preferred to look up at the sky. Mrs Flinchel turned around on the spot and marched off without looking back. Mr Aridos bowed slightly. “Don’t give this horse any more trouble, all right?” The students nodded, then he left Izzy alone with the others again, much to her dismay. She was still tied up as a ponygirl, the verbal thrashing for Mrs Flinchel hadn’t changed that. But the loud conversation had caught the attention of Grall, who fought his way through the crowd and came to a halt beside Izzy with his arms folded. “What’s going on here? Why are you teasing my horse?” “We were just having a friendly chat with her. But she was a bit unruly.” Grall untied Izzy from the post and turned her on the lead so that she could look towards the village square. To her horror, many people, and goblins, had already gathered there to watch the spectacle. “Let everyone hear,” Grall called out in a loud voice. “This here is Buttercup, she’s my horse. Anyone who has a problem with that is welcome to say so now, or shut up forever! But I’m warning you: anyone who causes her problems will have to deal with me!” Although she was grateful to Grall for his moral support, she would have gladly done without the increased attention. Almost all eyes in the village were on her now; most conversations had fallen silent or were only about Izzy. It was unpleasant and ignited a new rage inside her. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? The friends around Grunhilda sniggered and made new dirty jokes at Izzy’s expense; with every word and every laugh, the fire inside Izzy burned hotter and fiercer, the flames clouding her mind and driving her wildest thoughts before her like a pack of panicked animals that simply trampled down any resistance. All this fuelled a resistance in Izzy that surprised even herself. “How do we know she’s doing it voluntarily? It could be some kind of goblin trick,” shouted an old man. “If she really wants to be your ponygirl, she can just tell us, can’t she?” Grall looked eagerly at Izzy, who let her gaze wander between the humans and goblins. All eyes were on Izzy, but only in the goblins’ faces did she recognise anything like warmth or affection. There was genuine love in Grall’s eyes, while Mexi smiled kindly at her; the other goblins also showed no hatred, no rejection, no evil. Only the humans openly despised her. At that moment, she realised again how far she had strayed from life as a human. Here she was, with her hooves in the dirt, brightly painted, and a leash attached to her breast rings, leading to her best friend’s hand. None of it screamed human, but everything about it screamed ponygirl. She lifted her gaze and looked at Lisande, Sunshine and Albaea, who looked sympathetically at her. These three were the most like her, and they were ponygirls, animals in the service of the goblins. There she had her new friends, there she was normal; unlike with the humans, where she was an outcast. An abomination that was laughed at and tormented. But Izzy noticed something else as she looked around: Bastian was one of the few people looking at her with interest, almost hungrily. And she finally understood; he was genuinely interested in her. But not in Izzy, the girl, but in Buttercup, the ponygirl. She had longed for him for so long, had learnt to hate him in the meantime, but now — as a horse — he was interested in her? What a strange turn of events. Was that a sign? He avoided her gaze, but his eyes travelled over her naked body like the warm rays of a candle in the dark. Izzy swallowed, and suddenly, there was this thought; it rose from the farthest corner of a long-forgotten shadow. A memory so small and faint that it should have already vanished; but in that one moment it fought its way to the surface, driven by hatred for Grunhilda, pushing everything else — especially her common sense — aside. Something that would decide her future; ponygirl or human; free or among friends; sheltered or on her own. She felt her body drop as if of its own accord, as if the earth was calling to her or the gravity beneath her was increasing tenfold. She couldn’t have stopped it even if she’d wanted to. The pull was too strong, and her knees hit the sandy ground hard, leaving deep imprints, deeper than the tracks of her royal hooves. The sound echoed across the square. The silence that followed was overwhelming, only her heartbeat pounding thunderously in her ears. The onlookers held their breath; the humans and goblins sensed that something momentous was happening before their eyes, and no one dared to disturb it. Even Grunhilda kept quiet; Izzy looked into her eyes with a challenging, cold stare. Grall watched Izzy open-mouthed; it took him a blink of an eye before he realised what she was up to. Izzy, on the other hand, had not taken her eyes off Grunhilda, still locked on the other girl. She leant forward and only broke her gaze at the last moment… — … and kissed Grall’s feet. — The silence deepened, even the birds stopped singing. Izzy lifted her head slightly and kissed his other foot. A sandy taste lingered on her lips. Grunhilda and Bastian’s faces fell — they stood at the edge with gaping mouths and turned pale; the other humans were also shocked, some turned away in disgust. The reaction of the goblins was entirely different; they rushed to Izzy and Grall and surrounded them, laughing and celebrating. Izzy looked up at Grall, who had tears in his eyes. He bent down and kissed her on the lips. “You are now my ponygirl for all time. Tomorrow, I will give you my brand and the nose ring. Your father will be delighted. I actually wanted to give you a present, but you’ve clearly outdone me.” Only now did Izzy realise that he was holding something behind his back; she was so focused on herself and Grunhilda that she had completely forgotten the world around her. Grall opened the small, flat parcel and inside was a beautiful dress. “I ordered it for you days ago. It just arrived a little too late; otherwise we could have saved ourselves the trouble with Udamos. But you won’t need it any more. That’s behind you now. I’m giving it back. A dress would only cover your brand, and that would be a shame, wouldn’t it?” “Brand?” Izzy repeated and swallowed. In her brief moment of rebellion, she had completely forgotten the consequences that awaited her. But no one listened to her, she had made it too clear what her decision was. She looked at the other ponygirls and saw genuine surprise in Lisande and Sunshine, while Albaea — quite the sweet and exuberant mare — jumped around enthusiastically as far as her lead allowed. “It’s going to be great. They say that a brand almost magically binds a goblin and his horse. I’m sure that’s nonsense, but it’s a nice thought, don’t you think? I’ll send someone straight to your father.” “We’ll have the fires lit as soon as we return,” Oozol said, and Izzy couldn’t help but notice that the old goblin looked relieved, as if a difficult episode was finally over. “Did you hear that? This will be wonderful!” cheered Grall. Izzy swallowed again. Grall’s unbridled enthusiasm was one thing, but her future was something else entirely. Her eyes flicked round, looking for a way out. On the run Izzy’s heart was racing. “You might as well have lit the fire for the brand,” she thought, biting her tongue. Grall, on the other hand, was still beside himself with joy, but he hadn’t exactly given away his entire future either. He jumped around like a little bouncy ball and fell into the arms of anyone who didn’t dodge him fast enough. His happiness was infectious, but Izzy didn’t catch on to it, partly because he kept pointing at her bottom and making burning noises, which really annoyed her. Her friend just never knew when he was going too far. But she couldn’t and wouldn’t blame him, this was her own fault. Once again, her stupidity had set off an avalanche that was now dragging her down into the valley — whether she wanted to was no longer important. She could only wait and watch, but in this case, she knew what was waiting for her at the end of the journey: a branding iron with Grall’s mark, which he himself would press onto her arse with a broad grin so that it would proclaim for all time that she was his. To make matters worse, the goblins gave their friend a lot of good advice, which made Izzy even more nervous: “Don’t be shy, it has to smoke!”, “She’ll be a bit loud about it, but you have to keep it steady until it takes effect” and “Make sure your mark isn’t too small. She needs to feel it well, so she knows you’re her master.” Izzy grumbled. Goblins… “She’s submitted to you, now make sure she stays down,” said a goblin in dirty armour. But here, at least, Grall clearly disagreed. “No, she’s not like other ponygirls, I won’t do that!” Izzy nodded silently, but it didn’t change anything. Even as her friend, she had submitted to him, and now he was going to do what was natural for goblins in such situations. She was already his property, of course; after all, she bore his number on her bosom, which was also filed in an official register with her horse’s name, but this mark was even more personal; above all, more painful. The idea that he would press a burning metalmark into her skin with his own hands so that it would leave a scar made her stomach revolt. To make matters worse, she would soon be wearing his gold nose ring, making it impossible to hide the truth about her status. She felt slightly nauseous again. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel love for Grall, and she had to admit to herself that it felt good to show him her own affection so clearly, but the price was too high. Until now, she had had at least some hope of being able to be human occasionally, but there was nothing left of that after the kiss. Besides, she still had the taste of his feet in her mouth. She looked around; the world was divided in two. The humans stood at the back and kept as far away from Izzy as possible — their faces showed nothing but disgust and sometimes even hatred. That was unusual even for the people in this village, but no girl had ever been stupid enough to allow herself to be humiliated and domesticated voluntarily before. Allegedly, a few young men had occasionally allowed themselves to be turned into stallions, but that didn’t surprise Izzy, as it offered the men their own special appeals. Besides, they were virtually invisible to the human world later; quite unlike the ponygirls who walked half-naked through the villages every day. Undoubtedly, the kiss was just the last straw that broke the camel’s back. She raised her nose in the air rebelliously; this wasn’t all her fault after all; Grunhilda had provoked her to the brink, as she often did, and had given her the idea in the first place, but no one seemed to care. The goblins, on the other hand, still reacted completely differently; they cheered and celebrated; the voluntary devotion of a girl as a ponygirl for a goblin was considered a great honour, and it was celebrated thoroughly. It had to be a good precedent for them, one they hoped many would follow. Izzy knew by now how expensive ponygirls could be; they were beyond the reach of some goblins. The prospect of getting one for free must have seemed like a godsend. Of course, it didn’t matter to the goblins that a girl would have to give up her dreams and her freedom, they were only thinking about the benefits. Izzy couldn’t even blame them, who would refuse a gift? Apart from the remarks about the brand, the goblins were kind to her, stroking and praising her incessantly; there was hardly a spot on her that wasn’t patted, even those that made her blush. There were also all kinds of treats, which Izzy was only too happy to devour. She felt like she was at the centre of this celebration, which was slowly and steadily taking her away from life as a human. Her colourfully painted face, reflected in the windows of the houses, left no doubt about it, too. “That was wonderful,” Mexi whistled, jumping around almost as excitedly as Albaea. The playful mare kept trying to get down on her knees, but Mexi stopped her. “Don’t do that, sweetheart, you just want to copy her. That doesn’t count. Besides, you’re too immature for that.” She gave her pouting horse a little kiss and then turned to Izzy. “You’re a good horse too. Grall is very lucky you like him so much.” She stroked Izzy’s head the way Izzy used to pet dogs. It was humiliating, but at least Mexi obviously meant it nicely. Grall gave Mexi a kiss and hugged her. Over her shoulder, he gave Izzy a strange look, as if his neck was aching and his eyes were twitching. He turned Mexi round to face Izzy and kept looking at her feet. “Oh, I’m sure she likes you just as much.” Izzy breathed in heavily. So that’s what he wanted. It was almost cute how desperately he bobbed his head, but at least it wasn’t an order, she had to give him credit for that, just a plea between friends. It was a pitiful sight, how much he wanted to impress his crush, and Izzy rolled her eyes. “What could possibly happen now,” she thought, “It doesn’t get much worse than with Grall.” She smiled at Mexi, got down on her knees, looked up at the surprised girl once more and kissed both of her clean shoes. It was an impressive sight, not least because the difference in height between the two of them surpassed that of Izzy and Grall. It was like an elephant bowing to a human. Just as soon as Izzy was back on her feet, Mexi jumped around Grall, squealing and cheering. “That was so great, that was so great!” she shouted, stumbling into his arms and their lips locked. Only Albaea whinnied unhappily, as if a toy had been taken away from her. “I’ve never seen such a well-trained horse.” Izzy grumbled softly. “I bet your brand will look great.” She tapped the spot on Izzy’s bottom, and Izzy flinched under the touch. “Do you think she’d like my brand too?” Grall was clearly still in a good mood and before Izzy could object, he said, “I’m sure she’d love it.” Izzy would have liked to kick his ass, but there was plenty of time for that later. The humans still hadn’t come any closer, with one exception: a little girl had squeezed past the goblins and was looking at Izzy with wide eyes. “You’re beautiful,” the girl said, beaming. “Thank you,” Izzy stuttered after remembering that she didn’t have a horse bit in her mouth. She looked at the girl sheepishly; she wasn’t used to people thinking she was beautiful. Not as a ponygirl, and not as a woman either. “Do you like doing this?” Izzy gazed into the girl’s bright eyes, not daring to say anything bad. “You get used to it. Some of it’s quite nice,” Izzy said, unconsciously wiggling her bum. Grall smiled proudly. “When you grow up, you can be a ponygirl too,” he said, and Izzy gave him a brief evil glare. The thought of other girls following her example made her deeply nervous. She didn’t want to be a role model, especially not for this. “That’s not going to happen!” hissed a plump woman, pushing past the goblins. The goblins had nothing to oppose her mass. “Careful, greenlings, peace ends with our children. You can have that stupid girl there if you like, but keep your hands off the rest.” These words should have offended the goblins, but most of them just rolled their eyes or shrugged their shoulders. “We’ll see about that,” said a wiry goblin next to Izzy. “The young women can decide for themselves later. If we’re lucky, we’ll never have to pay for a ponygirl again.” The other goblins cheered at the idea, and it became clear to Izzy that perhaps she hadn’t just condemned herself to this fate. Grunhilda watched the spectacle open-mouthed; she hadn’t said a word since the kiss, much to Izzy’s delight. It was obvious that the shock had worked, but unfortunately that was no longer the case. The girl shook herself and, after clearing her throat loudly, exclaimed: “Disgusting! Revolting! Crazy!” She spat on the floor, but unfortunately for her, she hadn’t realised what was happening behind her. Saxea had untied Sunshine and was leading her straight past Grunhilda. Neither of them took Buttercup’s insult lightly; a quick tap on Sunshine’s bottom was all it took for the horse to give Grunhilda a shove with her wide bum. It wasn’t hard enough to get her in trouble, but it was enough for Grunhilda to lose her balance and land face first in a large pile of very heavily used straw. The girl screamed, but nobody helped her, even the humans preferred to keep their distance. Izzy laughed uproariously, and Grunhilda’s angry looks didn’t change that — in fact, it made it even funnier. Grall also grinned broadly. “How clumsy of you, dear sister.” Grunhilda wiped a brown piece of straw from her face. “That horse attacked me! That’s forbidden, I know your laws. Punish her!” Grall climbed into the saddle, put the horse bit in Izzy’s mouth, and leaned over her shoulder so that he could look down at Grunhilda. “Thank you, but we know our laws very well. No ponygirl will be punished for your little mishap. Sunshine is a good animal. You just have to be a little more careful around horses.” He turned to the other goblins and waved them over. “It stinks here, let’s go to our side of the village, the air is certainly better there. The pack of goblins ran off and Grall rode ahead on Izzy. “Hopefully, we won’t see them again so soon.” Izzy neighed in agreement, she’d had enough of humans for the moment, but unfortunately Grall didn’t make it that easy for her. They didn’t take any shortcuts, but even made a few detours so that every human could see the girl who had voluntarily submitted to a goblin. Izzy would have gladly done without it, but at least the ride wasn’t far. Grall tied her by the reins to a post at the very edge — but didn’t release her from the horse’s bit — and rejoined the other revellers; jugs of ale appeared out of nowhere, while wine, cheese, and bread were served everywhere. It was a lively party and after a short time, a small band was playing a catchy tune. The spontaneous party was in full swing and Oozol arrived a little late. Saxea, on the other hand, was still fully occupied with Sunshine, whom she had even taken the bit out of the mouth. “Please, it’s just a little thing!” she squeaked, but her horse just shook her head. “Buttercup did it too!” Sunshine visibly rolled her eyes, and Izzy understood how the other horse felt about it, but she didn’t make a sound, as a good horse should. “I command you!” Oozol laughed with a rumble. “That’s one of the few things you can’t order a ponygirl to do. She does it because she wants to, or not. You can ride a ponygirl, hit her with a whip, tie her up somewhere, and generally control her whole life -” Izzy gulped at these words “- but you can’t force it to like you. If you want Sunshine to submit to you like Buttercup, you should try to be kinder.” “Even more?” Saxea grumbled, then nodded. “Good, I’ll be even nicer to her. Then she’ll really like me!” Sunshine neighed contentedly and gave Saxea a kiss on the forehead before the horse bit went back into her mouth. “Sister, you still have a long way to go. Buttercup doesn’t just like me, she loves me,’ slurred Grall from further away, who was already far too drunk again after only a short time. The little goblins couldn’t take much. “She was my best friend, and now she’s my best horse. Sunshine is wonderful, but the bond between Buttercup and me is something special.” Saxea crossed. “Sunshine will do the same for me, you’ll see.” Behind her, Sunshine shook her head vigorously, and Izzy had to grin. Sunshine was tied next to Izzy and they both shared meaningful glances, but Izzy was busy with her own thoughts. Lisande and Albaea were also tied next to Izzy again. “One small question,” came an unfamiliar voice from the side. It was a goblin Izzy had never seen before. His clothes were as unusual as his accent, and she quickly realised that he must have come from far away in goblin land. “This horse, is it something special?” He emphasized the S in a very strange way that Izzy had never heard before, almost like he was a snake. Since Grall was already celebrating, only Saxea could answer his questions. “She’s my brother’s mare. Not as good as my Sunshine, of course, but something special. She’s a girl from the village.” “Is her pedigree known?” Saxea thought for a moment. “My father told me that her mother came from far away.” “So the hooves are no coincidence?” he asked with interest, moving to the floor to trace the royal pattern left by Izzy’s shoes with his fingers. She didn’t like it at all, something about this man made her nervous. Why was he interested in this? “An extinct noble line. Very unusual. Is she for sale?” Izzy snorted uneasily, but Saxea paid it no mind. “No, I don’t think so. But my father has many other horses. Come on, I’ll introduce you to him.” With that, the girl pulled the man along with her, who continued to look thoughtfully at the hoof prints. Again, Izzy felt like a commodity, something to be bargained for. From that standpoint, perhaps it was better if Grall gave her the ring after all. Sure, a nose ring wasn’t very pleasant, but at least then she would belong to him in a way that nobody could buy her any more. — The party turned even wilder at midday and really came to life in the evening. As the sun went down, the goblins’ spirits rose and new guests joined them. Sunshine and Izzy’s peace ended when old Hersia joined them. The goblin lady wore an old apron and yellowed jewellery in large quantities, and she had coloured the tips of her ears. Izzy had often noticed that the old woman cared little for the opinions of other goblins, but she had always been friendly to Izzy, and she often had a few sweets with her. Even now, she handed Izzy a handful of treats, which Izzy was more than happy to eat. Her sweets were still the best sweets in the village, but Izzy now wondered if they had the same effect as the ponygirl treats. “Look at you, standing here proud and gorgeous.” Hersia patted Izzy’s bare bottom lovingly and smiled warmly at her — something she didn’t do with many others. “I’ve delivered many foals over the years, but you’ve always been something special. No wonder with a mother like that.” Izzy snorted at the word “foal”, but old Hersia just giggled. “It’s the truth! You were a little foal, so cute and full of potential. Luckily, you ended up under a saddle, as you should have; it’s in your blood. Don’t look so harshly, you were born the daughter of a ponygirl, so of course you were a ponygirl from birth. The line is passed on through the mother!” Izzy raised her eyebrows in astonishment. She had actually heard that before, but had never thought that it applied to her, after all, her father wasn’t a stallion, but a normal man. She shook her head vigorously. “You probably think this old woman in front of you is out of her depth, but you’re wrong, as everyone is! Your father doesn’t matter, neither do the ponyboys. It’s always about the mother. No, no, you’ve always been a ponygirl, but it just took you a little longer to realise it.” Hersia winked, giving Izzy time to process this news before she continued. “Luckily for you, Grall is a few days older than you. You can’t imagine how happy Oozol was when he was able to gift his son his very own ponygirl so soon after birth. You were officially registered on the same day, as is customary for all foals, with Grall’s birthday as your number.” Izzy took a step back in horror, only the reins holding her in place. She gave a startled neigh. No words were needed for Hersia to understand her thoughts, Izzy’s eyes shouted them out to the world. “It was your destiny, or did you think a man like Oozol would pass up an animal like you? How well do you know him anyway? But your father was stubborn; brought stupid new ideas to this village. He wanted you to live as a human first and then make up your mind. He insisted that no one should know about the registration, not even Oozol’s own son; what a waste of time, hopefully he has realised that by now. A horse like you will always long for the saddle.” Izzy was only half-listening, her mind was racing. Why hadn’t anyone told her? Not even now? Had Grall really not known? Was it all just a game for Oozol to make her what she already officially was? But then was the emergency registration also just an excuse for Izzy to accept something that was already a reality? Everything around her was spinning, but Hersia kept talking. “Most people think I’m cranky, but take it from an old woman: always live your life the way you want to. Don’t listen to anyone and don’t bow to anyone.” Those were terribly silly words to say to a ponygirl, but Hersia didn’t seem to notice. “I would have told you all this much sooner, but I had to promise not to at the time. And I know when to keep my mouth shut. Still, hopefully my sweets have helped you on your way. You always loved eating them, just like a good horse should. If I’m lucky, I’ll deliver your foals too. I hear you’re not opposed to Oozol’s stallion Titan.” The old woman gave the rigid Izzy a pat on the butt and marched off. Sunshine neighed and cuddled Izzy for comfort, but she was completely detached from the world. So she really was born to be a ponygirl; she had always been Oozol’s property. Everything else was just an illusion — and if she didn’t do something about it, Grall would very soon press his brand into her skin. Izzy swallowed. The following conversation with the other horses was unpleasant for Izzy. Not that it took many words to have this discussion — and with the horse bits in their mouths, no real talking was possible anyway — but even so, Izzy clearly saw in the eyes of Lisande and Sunshine what they thought of the development. Betrayal was written all over their faces. If Grall and Oozol were lucky, they would only spit in their faces, but Izzy wasn’t sure about that. She had some trouble calming the other two mares, while Albaea just howled under the angry snorting of the other horses. She was probably not used to so much upset. But Izzy was grateful to the two mares, at least she didn’t have to feel this betrayal alone. A deep sting went through her heart. Oozol and her father had kept the truth from her all this time; and even if Grall hadn’t known, it felt like the last few weeks had been built on a big stinking pile of lies. She had never been free. Not when she took her first steps. Not when she drew her first scratchy letters at school. Not when she sat on the grass one summer and watched Bastian bathing and realised what the difference was between a boy and a girl. And certainly not when Grall had put a saddle on her back for the first time. So even then she had been his horse, legally speaking. His date of birth was listed in the register as her number from the day she was born. Lisande and Sunshine stamped their feet angrily, and Izzy did the same. Until now, she had only thought about running away because she feared the brand. But now it seemed madness not to. But she was also well secured as a ponygirl. She needed a way to escape, but there was nothing to be seen far and wide. No goblin would help her. Albaea’s eyes were still wet, and Izzy would have loved to comfort her, even though technically, it was her pain. But the mare was so affectionate that Izzy would have happily hugged her. But now she had to think of herself first and find a way out. — The party was still in full swing, and Izzy continued to search for a way out. If she didn’t find one, she would soon feel the burning kiss of the brand and be trapped forever in the yard of the traitor Oozol. As important as Grall was to her, she simply could not allow that! Her eyes jerked around, travelling from the celebrating goblins, over the thatched roofs, a few old carts, Bastian, a pile of dirty straw and… her gaze darted back. Bastian? She hurriedly turned away and only watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was crouching half hidden behind the edge of a house, staring at her; it was that strange look again, the one she had seen when she was racing. But by now she had an idea why he was looking at her like that. It was lust; desire; his thirst for her body. And his own disgust about it. But maybe, just maybe, she could make something of this. The other ponies hadn’t noticed him and Izzy slowly turned her butt towards him. She knew the effect she had on stallions by now, and maybe it would work on Bastian too. Slowly, no faster than absolutely necessary, she circled her wide bottom and formed a lying eight with it. Lisande looked at her confused, but Izzy was unfazed. She sped up a little and the ponytail, whose plug was still deep in her bum, swung slowly with her. She bent forwards a little and her breasts sagged slightly. She dared to look over her shoulder, but Bastian was gone. Her heart froze, and for a moment, this rejection hurt her almost more than the betrayal of Oozol and her father; but only almost. She was about to stand up when she felt a warm hand on her bottom. It was Bastian! He must have been running around the houses like a wild stallion, his breath was coming fast and he was red in the face. He didn’t say anything, but his surprisingly soft but strong hands travelled along her bottom, following the natural contours, and his fingers slid over the cold metal between her legs. Or it should have been cold, but Izzy herself heated it with her burning body. She neighed softly, bringing Bastian out of his own trance. He swallowed. “You… look good… as a horse, I mean.” They were the first truly kind words he’d ever said to her, but right now, Izzy had no ear for them. What he could do for her was more important. She pressed herself against him and one of his hands went to her breast, where he grabbed it without thinking. Sunshine neighed unhappily, but Izzy silenced her with a growl. On any other day, Izzy would have been in heaven, but today she had a goal to achieve, and Bastian was her tool. She looked deep into his eyes, neighed and tried to make him realise that he had to take the horse bit out of her mouth. It wasn’t easy to make him understand that, and with the goblins nearby there wasn’t much time. Still, it took him a while to explore enough of her body to understand what she wanted. And unfortunately for her, he was terribly clumsy at removing a bit — he clearly had no experience with ponygirls. “Thank you,” Izzy said and as soon as she had said it, he took a step back as if he had awoken from a dream and now realised that she wasn’t a thing, but a person. This was either good or bad for Izzy, but she had to act fast. “Come back here, it’s cold without you.” That was a lie, of course — summer wasn’t over yet, and Izzy was used to being naked by now — but Bastian was only too happy to accept the invitation. It was strange how awkward he suddenly seemed; Izzy had always thought he was a model of masculinity. But he had probably always been like that, but now she saw him as he was, without any flirtation or rose-coloured glasses. “If you untie me, we can go into the woods and… you know… have some fun.” Albaea gave a startled yelp, but Izzy and Bastian ignored it. “I can’t do that, you’re an animal of the goblins,” Bastian said, swallowing as if the thought excited him even more. She couldn’t blame him, it was the same reason Titan was so interesting to her. “You’ll take me back, won’t you?” she said and winked. But their private time was over. “What are you doing?” shouted a goblin from the feast. “Boy, if you disturb the horses, you’re going to get into a lot of trouble.” Bastian straightened up, but before he left, he quickly untied Izzy’s reins. He nodded to her and ran into the forest. Izzy’s heart was pounding. If the goblin came to check on her, he would surely tie her up again, but luckily for her, he didn’t. She waited briefly, gave the three mares a final glance, then ran off. Behind her, she heard Albaea getting restless, but Sunshine seemed to take care of it. Strangely, neither Sunshine nor Lisande had tried to come with her. Perhaps it was for the best; those two would be pursued no matter what, but whether they did the same with Izzy wasn’t entirely certain. She hoped Grall would leave it at that, but with Oozol anything was possible. Her hands were still secured under the saddle, she was a mount after all, but she didn’t have to walk long to see Bastian behind the first row of trees. He greeted her with his hands on her bosom. She almost melted on the spot for him, but she had to be strong. “Untie me. Please,” she had to command him, otherwise he would probably have taken her as a mare right there and then. She could see from the mark on his trousers how excited he was. He awkwardly took the saddle off her and untied her arms. Izzy looked back to the party one last time — she saw Grall, still laughing and telling everyone about a fantastic future that would never come; to her three friends who couldn’t share her freedom; and Oozol, who she thought could burn to a crisp in hell. Before Bastian could touch her again, Izzy sprinted off. She didn’t even look back at him. Her legs pounded over the loose forest floor, carrying her deep into the woods at lightning speed, far away from the goblins and anything connected to them. All she had to do was put enough distance between herself and the goblins and all would be well. The big cities weren’t safe, like all areas on the border; the experience with the horse catchers was still ingrained in her bones, and she didn’t want to repeat that mistake. But deep in the land of men, there had to be places where she was safe. Somewhere she would be given shelter, she just had to walk far enough. But as so often happened when Izzy had a goal, she missed it. Her poor sense of direction played a trick on her again and made her run in the wrong direction; her fast gallop took her deeper into the realm of the goblins with every step — still with a registration number on her bosom, a ponytail in her bottom and colourful paint on her body that made her easy to spot even in the dark. But something else escaped her notice: not all the goblins had lost sight of her. Two small eyes peered through the forest; they followed her shadow between the trees until the distance became too great, then the watcher began the pursuit. — Her legs carried her through the dense forest for hours without a break. She travelled far from the roads, careful not to run into any humans — and especially not goblins. While she had no fixed destination, or even an idea of how far she had to travel to a safe place, she would not stop until she had left all the goblins behind her. The sting of betrayal was still deep in her flesh, but it also gave her a renewed vigour that propelled her forward. Moreover, she had the energy of a mount used to long rides — the irony did not escape her, but for the first time it was to her own benefit. The sun had long since disappeared behind the treetops and the forest was dark and menacing; the shadows of the trees hid the roots and other dangers that lurked on the ground. Without Grall, she lacked good eyesight at night, so she had to rely entirely on her own intuition. Still, she didn’t allow herself a break; if Oozol tried to catch her again, the goblins’ sight would give them an advantage, and speed was her only chance. It was only at that moment that Izzy realised that the goblins would probably question her friends; hopefully they wouldn’t punish them if they kept quiet. Surely, they had noticed her absence by now. Grall might be gullible enough to wait a few days for her return, but Oozol would gather a party of hunters before the village was fully searched. But even if the night gave the goblins an advantage, at least she had fewer people — humans the goblins — to avoid in the dark. The greenlings also preferred to stay indoors at night. This meant Izzy made good progress unseen, but a faint light in the distance attracted her almost magically. It was the flickering of an old lantern, swaying back and forth in the wind on a pole next to a house. The courtyard was quiet and everything was already asleep, with only the lantern to show that there was any life here at all. Still, this was no place for a brightly painted runaway ponygirl to show herself, but something about this yard called to Izzy. Something that made her stomach grumble. She bit her tongue and sighed softly. The thought of spending the next few days or weeks without one of the treats made her hands tremble — the goblins undeniably knew how to control a ponygirl after all, Izzy thought bitterly. Despite the danger, she approached the yard and looked around cautiously. Sure enough, there was a stable for horses, and a small, promising sack hung at the side. She crept over, reached into the bag and popped a few of the treats into her mouth, which immediately melted and spread their wonderful broad flavour across her mouth. Her hand wandered back to the bag, but a voice stopped her. “Hilia, have you escaped from the stable again? Wait, you’re not my horse. Where did you come from? Stop, you can’t just wander around here!” The old goblin farmer waved a pitchfork around, but Izzy only had eyes for the sack she had to leave behind. She briefly wondered if she was too fast for the goblin, but then changed her mind and disappeared into the night. She spent the next few hours wondering how she could have taken such a stupid risk when her legs finally gave way without strength. She braced herself and slid exhausted down a tree trunk. Her breathing was rapid and her heart drummed wildly in her chest. “This will have to do,” she whispered to herself. A deep darkness engulfed her, swallowing the world a few metres away from her. Her heartbeat calmed down, but a new shock drove it up again: in her exhaustion, she had forgotten the direction! “Crap!” she grumbled, but it was too late now. She would have to decide on a new direction in the morning, which would hopefully lead her to safety. She yawned loudly and leant back against the tree trunk, even a ponygirl needed rest. She was just about to lie down when she heard a crack behind her. Before she could react, something was pulled over her and a strange odour hit her nose; her eyes went black. — “Where did you find her?” an unfamiliar voice asked. Izzy woke up slowly; she felt a cold stone floor beneath her and it was dark around her, with only a few rays of light filtering through the tight sack that had been placed over her head. Her hands were bound tightly again and her legs were also tied. Her mouth was still free, but she didn’t dare make a sound. Her captors probably thought she was asleep, so she listened closely. “It would be so much easier if all humans were already domesticated. It’s a shame that our God gave them to us, but we still have so much trouble with them. If I could, I would force them all into my stable.” The voice was foreign to her, perhaps it was a hunter from Oozol. “She’s officially registered, what should I do with her?” “Don’t play dumb. Look at her, she’s something special.” Izzy had to fight hard not to tremble. She knew that voice; his unconventional emphasis on “special” had given him away. It was the goblin who had inquired about her at the party. “Surely, there will be someone who has a use for such a noble pony.” It was only with great difficulty that she managed to lie still. The floor was cold and the room smelled of old manure and dirt. It was a strange feeling, knowing that you had been caught. Had Sunshine and Lisande felt the same way when they had first lain bound at the feet of their new masters? Helpless, hopeless, afraid they would never see their friends and family again? Of course, Izzy had run away herself, but now there was something final about it; if they really were horse thieves, there was probably no going back. “So its owner would take me to prison? Where did you steal her?” The other goblin spat audibly on the ground. “Stole them? What do you take me for?” “A thief, like you are.” “Good, fine by me.” The thief laughed dirty. “But it’s different here. I found her in the forest, she ran away from her owner. Believe me, that’s far away, he won’t come. Besides, she’s valuable, look at her hooves, watch out for the symbol! Surely, her owner doesn’t even know our town, you won’t have any problems.” The other goblin’s heavy breathing told Izzy that he was thinking seriously about this. “What if there’s a finder’s fee?” “Then you’re in luck. Give me my money and you can find out. That’s your risk. Otherwise, I’ll go to Fezon, he’ll pay for her.” “Like hell you will! All right; it’s a deal. She’s mine.” Izzy heard a bag of coins being passed around. So now it had happened after all; someone had paid for her. She had become a commodity, an object defined only by its value through its utility. They put a collar on her and woke her up with a kick. “Get up, we know you’re awake.” She stood up on wobbly legs, but the sack remained over her head. “You’re sure no one will come for her?” “Absolutely. She was alone. I followed her on my horse. Luckily, I knew a local farmer who lent me a cart and a helping hand before she woke up. She was heavy and it took a long time. Even if someone was looking for her, why would they come here of all places?” Her buyer led Izzy by the collar with small steps out of the room and into the sun — she could feel the warming rays on her skin — and tied her up somewhere, then took the bag off her head. The bright light blinded her and she had to squint for a while until her eyes had adjusted. She was standing in front of an old stable on a farm that had seen better days. She shook herself at the sight, it was one of the moments when she really appreciated life on Oozol’s farm. As much as she didn’t really want to be there, it was one of the best places a ponygirl could wish for — even if the owner was a treacherous monster. But this was the opposite. The goblin next to her was barely younger than the buildings, but something in his look told Izzy that he wasn’t joking; the whip in his hand made that clear, too. Her gaze followed the lead on her collar, it ended at the saddle of a tall ponygirl that towered over Izzy. “Don’t make trouble, I have no patience for difficult animals. You will feel my whip immediately if you don’t do as I ask. Understood?” Izzy nodded, intimidated. “I’m going to free your legs now. Don’t make any quick moves or Rainbow will break your legs.” The ponygirl in front of Izzy pawed her hooves, there was something dangerous in her gaze. Izzy obeyed — she remembered well how her hooves crushed the wolf’s head. No doubt Rainbow would be able to break her leg with one kick of her heavy hoofed boots. After freeing her legs, the goblin climbed into the saddle of his ponygirl and spurred her on. Izzy had no choice but to follow the two of them. She looked back once more and gulped at the sight of the hoof prints with the royal mark that could now be her downfall. The journey took them back out into the forest, but now they were following a narrow path that wound its way between the trees. She kept looking around, but there was no sign of rescue. Even if Grall was looking for her, how on earth was he supposed to find her here? She had run too far — straight to her doom. “Not so slow,” the goblin told her off. “If I see the leash tightened again, you’ll feel the whip.” Izzy whinnied and walked closer behind his ponygirl, who had a few deep scars on her rump herself; her obedience was probably not entirely voluntary, but in the end it made no difference to Izzy. As long as the sturdy horse obeyed him, she too was at his mercy. They travelled all day and only stopped in the evening. “Are you thirsty?” the goblin asked, but Izzy hurriedly declined — she remembered the ride with the horse catchers only too well. The goblin looked at her, shaking his head, then took a drinking tube from his ponygirl’s saddle and shared the water with his horse. Izzy grumbled, but after that, he didn’t offer it to her again for the night. — Their journey took three whole days before a large valley opened up in front of them. It was an impressive sight and Izzy sensed that they were close to their destination. She was exhausted, smelly and her legs were burning, but she wasn’t looking forward to her destination one bit. In the centre of the valley lay wide fields of crops and wildflowers, with a small town looming in the middle, crouching almost fearfully behind a high wall. Izzy had no idea what this town was called, or where they were, but it didn’t matter, she would only get out of here as a horse with a rider anyway, she was sure of it. The goblin led his horse at a gallop down the path and past numerous other goblins and ponygirls, but there were no other humans to be seen. You had green skin, or a goblin on your back, there was nothing else. So it was as Izzy had feared: she had walked deep into goblin country, from where she would never return. Her damn sense of direction! Just once, it could have done her a favour and not led her straight to her demise. The journey ended near an old farm just outside the city gates. The houses formed a wall around a hidden courtyard, and even the heavy gate was guarded. Words were written in goblin script above the entrance, but Izzy couldn’t read them. The gate closed behind her with a loud rumble and it was clear that it would not open again for her any time soon. “Durix, what are you bringing me?” asked another goblin, his face scarred and missing an eye. So that was the name of her new master, Durix. “A stupid name, for a stupid man,” she thought, but it wasn’t that simple, as she quickly realised. “Greetings, Pelkor. I want to sell this horse behind me at the auction. Look at her, she’ll bring us good money.” Pelkor leaned to the side and looked past Durix. “It has a registration number. That’s a dangerous piece of merchandise you’re bringing me. But it looks good, I’m sure it will fetch a tidy sum. Still, the risk is high, I’m asking for 50% of the profits.” Durix jumped up in his saddle so violently that his ponygirl was startled and took a step forwards. The lead tightened and Izzy almost fell. “No way! Cutthroats. Criminal! You’ll usually only take 30%, and that’s already too much.” “Then get lost. Why don’t you take her and stick her where the sun doesn’t shine?” “You’re an asshole, Pelkor. 35% and no more, otherwise you’ll feel my whip.” Pelkor laughed. “45%, my last offer, or I’ll have you drowned in the river.” Izzy listened in disgust as these men haggled. It was vile, especially since it was about her! They wanted to sell her on. She should be disgusted by this, but Durix was so awful that it could only get better. Her new — albeit probably only short-term — owner spat on the floor. “40%. That way or nothing.” “Good, 40%. So you’ve come to your senses after all.” He waved two helpers over. “Take the pony to the stable, give it the number 16. She’ll be a surprise at the auction tomorrow. We rarely have such a beautiful animal here, they’ll be amazed.” “Look at her hooves, she has a royal mark.” “Anyone can do that, the house no longer exists, nobody will complain.” “No, it must be something else. Look at her, she’s not a normal animal. I’ve seen this breeding line before, she matches the mark.” “You see what you want to see. They all died in the war.” “We don’t know that. Let the buyers decide. But tell them about it. It’ll drive the price up.” Izzy swallowed. That was not good. Not good at all. Her bloodline had already brought her under the saddle, would it now condemn her to life as some foreign goblin’s dumb animal? But today she was too weak to fight it. “Alright, that’s what we’ll do,” Pelkor said. He took another goblin aside while Izzy was untied from Durix’s pony. “You go into town and see our usual bidders. Tell them to bring some more thalers, there’s a good reason. Tell them there’s a particularly royal pony on offer. A little excitement will increase their interest. It’s all for business, my son. Now go!” The son studied Izzy briefly, then disappeared from the yard. Izzy’s next stop was the stable, where she was first given food and water — both of which tasted awful, but that was probably all that could be expected in a place like this — and then quickly washed so that at least the worst of the dirt was off. No one spoke to her, but she was used to that with normal goblins — none of them even thought it might be worth talking to a horse. Maybe it was easier for the goblins that way, Izzy thought, to make a girl their animal if they ignored its intelligence. Goblins weren’t without morals, but something had to allow them to treat a human like this without tripping over their own values to land face-first in the obvious injustice. The stable itself was cramped and stuffy. The fifteen other ponygirls were standing close together and didn’t look enthusiastic when another one was brought into the stable with them. They were all older than Izzy and some of them made her wonder what use they were as horses at all. Many looked weak and tired, scarred from a long life under saddles and with horse bites in their mouths. Izzy understood why Pelkor was so interested in her — she had nothing in common with these poor creatures, except that they were all ponygirls. But she herself was in the prime of her life, while the others had already lived a lifetime as animals. Izzy hardly dared to look at the others. Was this her future too? Would she be back in a stable like this in many years’ time, after she was no longer of any use to her owner? For sale to… to whom? She knew rumours of what some goblins did with old ponygirls, but she pushed the thought aside. She found a quiet corner and waited anxiously to see what the new day would bring. A falling friend With a heavy crack of the whip, the goblin drove Izzy up the stairs to the grandstand. The rotten wood creaked with each step like the wailing of the many ponygirls who had already travelled this path. She followed the goblin’s reins until he stopped her right in the centre of the platform. The eyes of dozens of goblins were fixed on her; most of them scrutinised her with interest, as one would a piece of livestock — and she had to admit that in this case that applied to her — while others hid their faces under hoods. It was probably not a place you wanted to be seen in; horse theft and dealing with stolen goods was undoubtedly a serious crime. As Izzy had expected, all the goblins were men; it was common among the goblins to keep women out of the horse trade — probably one of the reasons, apart from their beliefs, why the goblins preferred to ride women, they just liked it that way. Perhaps a human male reminded them too much of themselves. Of course, they also feared the strength and ferocity of human men, Izzy thought, there were good reasons why Titan was so well secured at Oozol farm, but that left the hard lot of the mounts to the human women. “Number 16, a horse from the forest. She’s registered, but I’m sure that won’t bother anyone here,” said the auctioneer, and the crowd laughed. “She was given to us from a good source. Her origin remains a mystery, but as you can all see, she is a magnificent animal. She is healthy, young and strongly built, with a powerful body suitable for any task: be it riding or working. A noble animal, no doubt from good breeding.” Izzy blushed as the interest in her increased. Most of them came a little closer to the stage to see more of her. Their gazes literally undressed her, had she not already been naked. But those eyes were piercing through her flesh just to judge whether she was worth the money. “Really magnificent,” said an old goblin right by the stand, scratching his chin. “She reminds me a little of a horse I saw many years ago in the king’s stables in the neighbouring kingdom. What was she called…” The old man stared into the distance, then a light seemed to dawn on him. “Of course, the prince’s gorgeous mare, Buttercup! I wonder if she’s one of her foals. Her stature and facial features are practically identical. I never forget a good horse.” Izzy’s heart almost broke at the mention of her mother; why did he have to mention this now, but to make matters worse, the interest of potential buyers increased. “Are you sure? The prince was killed, wasn’t his horse murdered with him?” “I wasn’t there, but as far as I know, the horse was never found.” The auctioneer had listened carefully and looked extremely satisfied. “There are real connoisseurs here. It was presented to us with hooves of the royal mark of the old house.” “Anyone can nail them to a horse,” grumbled another goblin, but a hooded goblin brushed him aside harshly. The new goblin didn’t say a word, but he held up a gold coin like the ones Izzy had seen before. It showed her mother and the prince, and Izzy already knew the resemblance was undeniable. “They really are like sisters. Or mother and daughter,” said the auctioneer after he too had studied the gold coin. “Who wouldn’t want to buy the foal of a princess mare? But that’s not her only advantage. Come closer and take a good look at her. Tack!” Izzy only went to her knees after a hard blow with the flat of his hand. His ring scratched her skin and she yelped. “Their udders are large and full, they will give you plenty of milk if you want it. Human milk is healthy and nutritious. But she can also feed many foals. Look at her wide hips too. Perfect for any saddle, but also giving birth, she will throw you foal after foal and make the buyer rich and respected. Find the right stallion and you’ll be drowning in royal horses!” Izzy shuddered. The possibility of being mated against her will was not new to her, but so far, it had only been a theoretical danger, but now it seemed terribly real. Not that she disliked men, she still got warm just thinking about Titan, but there she had some choice. But not here. “Look how much she likes that idea,” the auctioneer mocked, grabbing Izzy’s stiff nipples and her wet crotch. “I’m sure you don’t even have to tie her down, she’d just bend over for him herself.” Izzy lowered her eyes, what more insults did she have to endure? Was there no hole in this world where she could hide? To these goblins, she was just an animal that could be mated to throw them children to sell. What a terrible idea; and yet maybe it was her future. And to make matters worse, the goblin was right, as much as it shamed her, it also excited her. Her thoughts flitted to Titan, and the short time in his stables; it was enough to make her blush. “She probably hasn’t had any foals yet either, surely, yours will be the first.” He lifted Izzy’s head up by the chin and looked her in the eye, and Izzy shook her head to the cheers of the crowd. “There you see it. Open your mouth.” After a crack of the whip, she obeyed, and the goblin stepped aside. “This animal has healthy teeth, and as I’m sure you can see in the front row, her back teeth have already been removed, so she can wear a horse bit permanently.” Izzy closed her eyes and tried to just endure all this humiliation, but whenever she thought it couldn’t get any worse, the auctioneer found a new humiliation. “Turn round and bend over,” he ordered, and lashed out before she could hesitate. She yelped and turned her bottom to face the spectators. Her trembling didn’t seem to bother anyone, especially not when she slowly bent over to present her most private parts to the goblins. For the first time, she wished she had her chastity belt back. She had so often disliked the metal, but now the protection would have been even more welcome. “She’s already used to ponytails, even the biggest ones will suit her. Just how well it fits.” The auctioneer grabbed the hair of her tail and pulled. Izzy moaned, the large plug sucking at her insides, but her ass held it with an iron grip. The goblin yanked on it with all his might, but the plug stayed in her bottom. “Impressive, isn’t it? I’m sure your stallions will have fun with it.” He winked and Izzy would have liked to put her hands over her ears, but as usual, they were tied behind her back. The crowd whistled and clapped; there was no doubt that these men knew what he meant. “She seems to like it,” shouted someone from the crowd. “I’m sure she does,” the auctioneer confirmed, running his finger between her moist lips directed at the crowd. Izzy shuddered, and to her misfortune, she pressed herself against him. “Don’t be so hasty, big girl. I’m sure your new master will get you a stallion for this.” He addressed the crowd again. “As you can see, she’s an obedient animal, all she needs is a little encouragement. Certainly, not a sign of resistance, more of low intelligence. But who needs a clever horse, am I right?” People sniggered, and Izzy hated it. Did these people think ponygirls were stupid? Only someone who didn’t know them could believe that — but that was probably the problem. Grall and Oozol knew about the ponygirls’ intelligence — but they still used them for their own purposes, but maybe here it was different. Anyone who never talked to a ponygirl could quickly believe that they really were just dumb animals. “Would anyone like to examine the animal more closely? Only seriously interested buyers, please!” A goblin in the front row raised his hand and came onto the stage. “Beautiful beast, big and noble. Could it actually be from noble stock?” He examined Izzy closely, who still knelt. He felt her breasts — more intensely than was really necessary — and looked into her mouth. When he’d finished, he went to her other end and, to her shock, stuck two fingers in her; one in front, one behind, and slowly pulled them out, then pushed them in again. “She’s responding well. I have a dozen stallions I loan out for breeding, but a mare on the farm might bring some calm. The stallions are too aggressive, but with a mare like that in the stable, they’d be able to let off steam more often. If the price is right.” Izzy barely listened to the words, her whole world consisted of his fingers, and the shame she felt at how much she enjoyed his touch, pressing against him in rhythm. “When can we bid for her?” The auctioneer looked down at her with great satisfaction and casually tucked the whip under his arm. “Right away. Please climb down and we’ll start right away.” The bidder wiped his fingers clean, and Izzy had to stand back up. Most of the goblins had dirty grins on their faces, but some just seemed to look at it with an almost business-like indifference. They had probably, Izzy thought, watched many horses being mated before, so this wasn’t new to them here. “Turn round again for your audience,” he ordered, and Izzy turned slowly on the spot. It was awful, everything about her was being ogled and rated. She was just a commodity for sale, not a human being; above all, she was not their equal. She was just an animal, something useful with which these men wanted to make money. “We’ll start with the first bid. Who offers 5,000 thalers for this magnificent animal that will undoubtedly make the buyer rich. Remember, it comes from the stables of a prince. You won’t find anything this special for sale anywhere else.” “My stallions don’t care,” the goblin from earlier remarked; his fingers were still a little shiny. Nevertheless, he raised his hand. “If I buy her, I’ll name her Oxolia, after my ex-wife. At least one with that name who will listen to me.” “And the only one who will squeal with joy! Or why did she leave you?” another goblin quipped, almost starting a brawl. Izzy, on the other hand, was still shocked. Now they even wanted to take her name — or rather, the name Grall had given her. She had hated it at first, but that was before she knew it was her mother’s name. It was one of the few connections to her, and now even that was in danger. But as always, no one asked her for her opinion, and once she was sold, that would probably never happen again. Not since she had become a ponygirl had she ever missed Grall as much as she did at that moment. If she were to be a ponygirl, then only for him! Not even Oozol could change that. But now this was probably not her future. “Excellent. We’ll increase the bids in increments of 1000. We’ll start with 5000 thalers, who’ll bid 5000 thalers?” The figure in the dark cloak, still clutching the gold coin, raised his hand. “”5000 was bid.” More hands quickly shot into the air and Izzy’s eyes widened in amazement as the numbers poured in: 6000, 10000, 15000, 20000, 30000, 40000… The crowd was unstoppable, even the auctioneer was surprised. “We’ve already reached the highest bids ever at these auctions, but I see an even greater hunger among you. Whether a mount or a broodmare, this horse will serve you well. Or should she share your bed?” The crowd booed — at least some did, while others blushed slightly. “40000 was bid, who offers more?” And they bid more. 50000, 60000 and it went on and on. Many hands went up, but no one raised their hands as quickly as the cloaked figure and the man with the stallions. Both only lowered their hands so that they could raise them again immediately afterwards. It was a tough battle, and the goblin with the stallions began to sweat. Both raised their hands again and again until they were the only ones left to make a bid. 70000, 100000 and it went on. The other goblins watched in bewilderment as the bids continued to rise into the sky. Izzy’s head was spinning as the numbers went on and on. Was she that valuable? She knew the price Kreks father had offered, but that was an official bid, legal and therefore high. This was about a stolen ponygirl — herself! — which was supposed to bring the price down, as it excluded many legal uses for her. But that didn’t seem to bother anyone. In the end, the man with the stallions gave up — he shook his head and left the yard with a fuming head. “”We have a winner, with a bid of an incredible 150000 thalers. As I have to remind you, we expect a quick payment, until then, the animal will remain in our custody. Where would you like the animal delivered after payment?” The figure under the hood remained unrecognised but called out in an unusually croaky voice: “Take her to the nearest blacksmith. She shall receive my brand there immediately.” Before Izzy could resist, her legs were tied together, and the desperate girl was taken back to the stable. — “Wake up, you sleepyhead!” Izzy rubbed her eyes tiredly. She was still lying in her bed — it was the weekend after all, and she didn’t have to help on the farm today — but someone must have thought she’d had enough rest. She yawned heartily and stretched out in all directions when there was another knock on her window. The shutters were still closed, so she couldn’t see who it was, but even so she had a suspicion. She poked her ears with one finger and scratched her itchy back. “Leave me alone, Grall, I don’t have to get up yet.” For her eight years, Izzy was already quite tall, which her bed reflected. Her room, on the other hand, was that of a little girl: there were dolls everywhere and everything was a bit more colourful than the boys’. But Grall didn’t stop, so she opened the shutters and looked out. The little goblin boy had to jump to even reach the window; he was tiny compared to Izzy, as was usual for goblins of his age — he was also eight years old. They didn’t grow very tall as adults, but as children they were even easier to overlook. “Come on, I’m bored.” “Go play with someone else.” Grall grimaced. “They all don’t like me and are stupid. They think I’m a fool for playing with you. It’s your fault!” “But it’s the weekend and I want to sleep.” “The other children aren’t as lazy as you!” complained Grall, and he was right. For her eight years, Izzy was surprisingly sluggish, as if she was already a few years older, but she had an idea why that was. “They don’t have to grow as fast as I do.” She stood up out of necessity and indeed, she was certainly the tallest girl in the whole neighbourhood. She had had a few growth spurts in the last months and the latest one had thrown her completely off balance. Even walking was difficult for her, her legs seemed to be a different length every day. Most people found this funny, but Izzy was just annoyed by it. If she continued to grow like this, she would soon have to bend under the door frame — even if there was still a long way to go. Still, she was getting surprisingly close even to her father, although he wasn’t a particularly tall man. “All right. Wait for me, but I wanna eat first.” “If you must…” he grumbled, looking for some interesting insects to watch. That was his favourite thing — he was terribly interested in animals, but as a goblin that was more of a curse than a blessing; after all, animals couldn’t stand them. Apart from the ponygirls, that is. But insects didn’t show the same disgust for them, probably because they were just too stupid for that. Grall played with worms, woodlice, butterflies and all the other creepy-crawlies that Izzy didn’t even want to touch with a stick. She made herself comfortable in the kitchen for a moment and ate a large loaf of bread and cheese without rushing before throwing on her summer dress and trotting out to Grall in the yard. “So, what are we doing?” Izzy asked, crossing her arms. “It was very cosy in my bed. You better have a good idea!” He held up a snail. “We could play with these. They’re funny. We could let them have a race!” “Ewww!” said Izzy, shaking herself. She knelt down and had a closer look at the snail anyway. “What do you see in them?” “I like animals. They’re nicer than humans and goblins. Plus, they’re useful.” “Animals don’t like goblins, right?” It was half a question, half a statement. At eight years old, she understood the world very well; except when she didn’t, which of course she wouldn’t admit. After all, she was eight years old, and knew everything. Sometimes. “That’s why I play with insects. The only animals we goblins have are ponygirls.” Izzy crossed her arms. “Ponygirls aren’t animals, they’re girls and women.” “They’re animals to us. You don’t understand that. Besides, it’s not bad for them. I’m sure it’s fun.” “Sure, it’s great for a goblin. But not for the ponygirls.” She leant forward and supported herself with her arms. Grall looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. “I bet I’m faster than you. We’ll run all the way to that tree back there!” He jumped up and got ready, but Izzy just laughed. “You have short legs and besides, you’re totally clumsy. You can’t win.” He stuck his tongue out at her. “Are you afraid you’ll lose?” She stood up and looked down at him. “Fine, give the signal and we’ll run!” “Go!” They both ran at full speed. Izzy kicked up some dust behind her and took a big leap forwards. Grall’s little legs whirled around, but it took him nearly four steps, whereas it only took Izzy one leap. It was hopeless, and Grall was barely off the starting line before Izzy hit the tree with force; a few leaves fell and landed on Grall’s head. “That was close!” “It wasn’t,” Izzy cackled. “Back to the house, but I’ll give you a bit of a head start.” — Izzy grinned in the present. She had long forgotten all about it, but now some old memories came flooding back, just in time to give her a little comfort. Grall had been her only real friend for a long time, there was hardly a day when they hadn’t been up to some kind of mischief. “But what happened next?” she asked herself, trying to remember. — Grall nodded and they both got ready. “Go!” he shouted again and sprinted off. He had already travelled half the distance when Izzy leapt ahead and overtook him with ease. It wasn’t that she was really fast — it took her some effort not to trip over her own legs — but Grall was just so terribly slow, his legs weren’t made for sprinting. She reached the house well before him. “You should go back to playing with the snail. You’re a good match,” she quipped, giving him a light poke, but it was enough to knock him over. “That was luck. But I bet you won’t make it on all fours!” He grinned broadly at her, but she just smiled smugly back. “Then I’ll get my dress dirty!” He shrugged his shoulders. “Then just take it off. There’s nobody here who cares. I see ponygirls in our yard all the time.” “I’m not a ponygirl,” Izzy said indignantly and instead knotted the dress tighter around her hips so that at least her knees remained free. “Don’t you dare tell anyone!” “Not a word, I promise! So, are you ready?” — That little bastard, Izzy thought and grumbled softly, but then smiled again. Looking back, it all seemed so innocent, who knew where it would lead? When she thought about it more closely, her journey as a ponygirl had probably started before the saddle. As strange as it was, it was good to know in this terrible situation that at least someone out there would always be thinking about her. — She nodded and got down on her knees, then leant forward and fell on her hands. Her eyes were fixed on the tree and as soon as she heard the “go”, she ran off. Even on all fours she was still fast, and to her great surprise she reached the finish line well before her friend. Grall really was a snail, she thought, and celebrated her victory loudly. “Oops, you lost! Now what? Do you want to lose again?” “That was just luck. Again!” On another “go”, Izzy sprinted off, while Grall barely kept up. He reached the house exhausted and leaned against the door. “How are you doing that? You’re way too fast for a human.” “Or you’re too slow.” “No, really. You’re strong and I’m so light. I’m sure you wouldn’t even notice me on your back.” The victories had given Izzy some confidence. She nodded patronisingly and said, “You don’t weigh anything. I bet I’m no slower with you!” Grall tilted his head. “Rubbish, I’m not that light either! But if you want to give it a go…” He fetched a blanket from the shed and put it on Izzy’s back. ‘So it doesn’t rub,’ he said, and climbed up. It wasn’t exactly like a ponygirl, but the big grin on his face told that he was pleased. — Izzy swallowed in the present. It hadn’t seemed so strange at the time, but now it all made sense. That must have been the moment he’d first seen her as a ponygirl. It wasn’t that he had asked for another ride like that afterwards — he hadn’t been brave enough for that — but only a few months later he had called her Buttercup for the first time. He had stamina, Izzy had to give him that. She should be angry about it, she knew, but so much had happened in the meantime that these children’s games seemed harmless compared to her current problems. — “Go!” shouted Grall and Izzy galloped off. It was a wild ride, with no real saddle and only a blanket on her back, Grall had nowhere to hold on to. Halfway down the track, he tumbled off Izzy and cried out loudly. “Ouch! Wait, you lost me!” She made a full stop and came back to him on all fours. “What are you doing, why didn’t you hold on?” she asked mockingly. “It wasn’t my fault, you were too unsteady. You need to be more careful with me on your back.” She rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll try my best.” They tried again, and this time they almost succeeded, but just before the finish line, Grall fell out of the would-be saddle once more. “You’re really clumsy!” she scolded. “Was I at least fast?” “Yes, but it only counts if I don’t fall off.” Izzy rolled her eyes. “But it’s your fault if I slow down.” Again she set her sights on the house. “Go!” said Grall and she took off running. He laughed at her back and she felt his light weight on her back with every step. Her legs and hands kicked up dirt and mud flew off in all directions. “See, I’m fast!” He looked at her dreamily and nodded. “You’re quick, you must be the fastest… er… the fastest in the whole neighbourhood.” This praise was like a balm to her soul. “Izzy, Grall, what are you doing?” asked Matheus, who had just returned from the forest. Grall hurriedly jumped off Izzy’s back and took the play saddle with him. “Did you have fun today?” Grall nodded eagerly. “A lot of fun! Izzy is really fast.” “I thought so,” Matheus said, and Izzy noticed him raising an eyebrow. “Come in, I’ve brought some food. Izzy, clean your hands and knees first.” — Izzy stared at the ceiling. She couldn’t blame Grall, they had both been just children at the time. But why hadn’t her father said anything, stopped it, or at least explained it to her? Had he always suspected that she would end up under a saddle? Sure, her mother had been a ponygirl, but was that the only reason she was destined to be one? He should still have told her the truth! Same with Oozol She had trusted them, but they had lied to her and watched her slowly turn into an animal. She felt like she was about to explode. She kicked the stable door with force, but then her anger cooled abruptly; she slid down the wall and rested her head on her knees. As long as she was locked up here in this stable, waiting for her new master, such thoughts were silly. She would kick Oozol and her father in the ass, but she had to get out of this stable first; for now, though, her future looked bleak, and the only red bottom would probably be hers when her new owner branded her butt. She had only made things worse by running away. — Izzy waited three days for her new owner, while the other horses were picked up one by one by their buyers. But she was always left behind, only to end up being the last ponygirl in the stable. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing for her — she didn’t want to be sold — but her future remained uncertain. What would Pelkor do with her if the buyer didn’t pick her up? The goblin seemed to be getting nervous, Izzy kept hearing him asking about the buyer, but no one had seen him again. The days passed slowly, and even slower for a ponygirl in a stable. With no occupation or task, her gloomy thoughts were her only company; again and again she looked out of the stable, looking for a hint that someone — Grall, Oozol or her father — had come running to rescue her, as in one of the stories her father had loved to read to her as a child. But no one came. It wasn’t until the third day that Pelkor himself came to her stable and stood in front of her. “You’re lucky, we thought we’d have to sell you again. But your buyer actually brought us the money. Nobody here was expecting that.” Pelkor looked at Izzy, but she quickly realised that he wasn’t waiting for an answer. It was a monologue, like talking to a dog but not believing the animal understood. A better soliloquy, nothing more. Izzy stood up with trembling legs and swallowed. So her future was set; no one had come — no prince in shining armour would rescue her from her plight, or at least ride her home. Even if that home was the stables of the cursed goblin Oozol. Pelkor put a collar and lead on her and led her out of the stable. She knew exactly what her destination was, and her whole body was trembling, but with her legs tied together and Pelkors sharp whip, escape was out of the question. Their route continued through the heavy gate out onto the street, and from there through the portal into the city; it was slightly smaller than Udamos, but that was to be expected in a goblin city, its inhabitants were smaller after all. The houses had more floors, but each was lower than typical for humans. Only a few shops had the full height — whenever a ponygirl could be brought in. In general, the two worlds merged in the city: Everything noble and clean was small and made for the goblins, while stables, watering troughs and smithies were the size needed to support a human — a ponygirl. There were more than enough humans in this city, but they all wore saddles or bridles; there wasn’t a human to be seen who didn’t serve the goblins as an animal. At least this way, Izzy didn’t have to feel strange being dragged naked on a leash through the city in triple steps. It wasn’t even an unusual sight; to her surprise, she even saw a few rather small young women being led through the city on all fours, wearing collars with dogs’ names on them. She shuddered. The goblins’ grief at not being able to have other animals led to strange solutions. But what was worse: life as a horse or as a dog? Was being a dog also whipped, ridden and given a ponytail? But a dog’s tail was probably no different, and for the safety of the goblins, this girl even wore a muzzle. In the end, they probably all shared the same misery, just in different forms. Pelkor plucked at her leash as Izzy slowed, pulling her towards a blacksmith’s old workshop in a dingy back alley inhabited by some sinister goblins. They eyed her gloomily, but Pelkor dragged her into the smithy before any of them could say a word. “Good morning Pelkor, what are you bringing me?” asked the blacksmith, who was unusually strong for a goblin. His arms were wider than the thighs of most others of his kind, and his skin was black with soot and his eyes cloudy. “A ponygirl? Is it the animal you told me about? You’ve come at the right time, the fire is hot and willing.” Izzy shuddered at the words. She had never been so close to her doom. This place would finally seal her fate. Here, today, she would end her journey from which there was no turning back. Sure, she was already registered, but this felt different, partly because she now knew that the registration had been valid for her entire life. It was more personal. More final. More painful! It was the end of her previous life. Her stomach rebelled. “Shall we get started?” the blacksmith asked. “No, we’ll wait for the new owner. He’ll bring his own brand.” “Good, but we should already secure her in the rack. Pelkor directed Izzy to a metal rack, which she quickly recognised: it was used to secure the horses so that they did not move too much during the ordeal. It was a cruel instrument of her submission, but she lay down on it anyway without resistance. Escape was out of the question in this town; the gates were well guarded and they were certainly used to ponygirls fleeing. She felt the cold metal on her stomach and legs, while her head was secured at the other end with several straps. A piece of wood was placed in her mouth and tied behind her head. It tasted of fear and despair — at least she imagined it did, but it was actually just walnut wood with some chipped varnish. Still, it was a flavour she would surely never forget. The two goblins tied her upper body down, and her legs were also bound to the frame. Izzy couldn’t move an inch after that, she was completely at the mercy of the two goblins. “That looks secure. Now for the plug so she doesn’t mess up the floor. You’d be surprised how many ponies can’t hold it in when we’re branding them. Silly animals.” He retrieved a large plug from a cupboard, lubed it with a shiny liquid and, without further warning, thrust it painfully into Izzy’s ass, securing it with a couple of straps to keep it safely inside her. What she only found out later was that the plug was also stretching her buttocks, which made the branding even more successful. But she wouldn’t have cared at that moment; her whole body trembled and she tried to see what was happening around her, but the straps were too tight and she could only look straight ahead at a bare wall. Still, she could feel the heat of the fire next to her, and could hardly believe that soon a brand would be blazing in it just for her. “Ah, there’s our buyer,” Pelkor said, leading him into the room. Izzy noticed that he didn’t ask for the buyer’s name; I guess that wasn’t common among criminals anyway. “Thank you for your patience,” the buyer said in a croaky voice. It was strangely fake, as if born out of effort, and Izzy allowed herself a tiny spark of hope. She heard the whirring of a small gold coin being tossed into the air again and again. “It wasn’t easy to raise so much money in such a short time, but she’s worth it. Something about her immediately fascinated me, from the first moment I saw her.” Izzy’s stomach tightened. No, it couldn’t be… “Did you bring the brand with you? Or did you come out of politeness to warm yourself by the fire?” The buyer laughed, grumbling. “I always have my brand with me. It’s something special.” Izzy heard him hand it to the blacksmith. “Very personal, I see. But why not, the horse has no choice anyway.” At the words, the blacksmith placed his hand on Izzy’s bottom, right on the spot where he would brand her, then he stuck the brand into the fiery coals and everyone waited in anticipation until the metal glowed hot and was ready to force Izzy into her new role forever. Meanwhile, the buyer kept walking around Izzy. He hadn’t lifted his hood, and she still couldn’t see his face. Why was he hiding from her so skilfully? Was it possible that…, she thought again. No, she pushed that thought aside, into a dark corner where he couldn’t hurt her. This was no place for hope or dreams. “Do you want to do it, or should I?” the blacksmith asked. The buyer replied immediately: “I will do it. This is my brand and my horse. I’ve waited a long time for this. Far too long.” He took one last turn, then stopped in front of Izzy and looked her straight in the face. He raised his hands and pulled his hood back. The sounds of the forge faded into the distance as her heart shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. The buyer was a stranger. A wide scar ran across his throat and explained the strange voice. “Do you also want to tell us why she is so valuable to you?” asked Pelkor. The stranger nodded. “We all lost a lot in the war, but contrary to what is often said, not everyone in the royal house was murdered. A few of us survived.” “Oh, and where do you stand in the rankings? Behind or ahead of the master of the chamber pot?” the blacksmith grumbled. “Nowhere, I was born out of wedlock. But who cares, all those who are bothered by it are dead,” said the stranger. “Today I’m the first in line.” “Too bad you don’t have a kingdom any more.” “Oh, the kingdom still exists, it’s just ruled by strangers. But I’m going to change that.” The stranger audibly tossed the coin into the air. “Kings need symbols because symbols represent power, and power is what a ruler needs. If I ride this horse, it will bring me a little closer to the throne.” “Or you’ll be laughed at,” Pelkor mocked. “That’s hardly your problem. Let’s get started, but first let’s give the horse my lucky charm.” Izzy squealed as the stranger shoved the coin deep into her private parts. The coin was cold and rough, but that was probably not the worst thing Izzy had to endure that day, even if she felt like a piggy bank. Nothing and no one would be able to save her now, her fate lay in the flames and in moments would be pressed against her rear until the mark remained on her skin forever. She shook the frame once more, but even her bottom wouldn’t move an inch. She was ready. The blacksmith added more wood, which cracked and creaked in the flames. The heat in the room and around the brand was rising. It had to be red-hot already, Izzy thought, but she still couldn’t see it. What kind of mark did he have, she thought further, and was startled by the blacksmith’s voice. “The sign is hot enough. We can begin.” The stranger nodded and walked behind Izzy so that she could no longer see anything of what was going on. She closed her eyes and waited. She heard the blacksmith hand her new master a special pair of tongs, which he used to remove the brand from the hot coals. The embers rustled to the side and the air shimmered above the glowing iron. With a quick movement, her new master turned away from the fire and aimed the brand directly at Izzy’s butt, at the free spot that would bear his mark in the future. It would make her his property forever, his ponygirl, his animal. The number might say otherwise, but that didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. He would rob her of her last shred of humanity, and yet she had no choice — no say or voice in the matter. Her role was to lie tied to the rack and wait to see what the goblins who were her lords and masters did. This little creature controlled her future. Everything inside Izzy tightened as she felt the heat of the brand close to her skin. “Wait!” someone called from the door, and Izzy’s eyes snapped open. That voice… light, uneven footsteps echoed through the room. “I don’t want to disturb your nice little gathering, but I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.” Izzy felt the heat of the branding fade from her bottom. Her heart drummed rapidly in her chest. Was it possible that…? “Who are you and what do you want?” the buyer asked. “This is private. Get out or you’ll pay the price.” The new visitor just laughed cheekily. “Funny you say that. Because you’ve got something there that belongs to me. Give her back or I’ll get her.” His voice seemed tired, but determined. Izzy tugged at the straps, making the frame wobble, but she couldn’t break free. Thousands of emotions rushed through her; hope, fear, love, hate, and everything a human or ponygirl could possibly feel. There was so much to talk about, but all that mattered now was her freedom. She neighed loudly through the gag. “Grall!” she tried to call out, but apart from a loud whinny, nothing could be heard. “This horse? No way,” Pelkor said, and Izzy heard him draw a knife. “Good, then so be it,” said Grall. More knives were drawn and Izzy heard a fierce battle begin. The goblins leapt wildly across the room, knives hitting each other and raw flesh. Blood splattered everywhere, then Izzy felt a few cuts from the knives split her straps again and again. The leather gave way under the sharp metal and Izzy was able to half sit up, only her legs and arms were still bound. The fight was cruel. The blacksmith already lay dead in the corner, but Grall was still fighting with the new buyer, while Gribat — whom Izzy only now noticed — was crossing blades with Pelkor. They had all already taken cuts and were bleeding profusely, but to Izzy’s surprise Grall and Gribat were holding their own against these dark figures, despite both being visibly inexperienced, but that was probably true of their enemies too. Grall’s passion and youth in particular made up for a lot. The knives whirled through the air at breathtaking speed and Izzy realised why the goblins were such fearsome warriors; their hands were made for playing with knives and made up for their small size with ease. The iron hissed through the air and it sometimes seemed to be just luck if one of the fighters narrowly escaped death. As much as the humans were superior in strength and running, this was where the goblins were in their element. Grall knocked the brand out of the buyer’s hand, picked it up, and thrust it directly into the goblin’s face. The man cried out and stumbled over a stool, almost falling to the ground. Grall took advantage of the distraction and cut another strap, allowing Izzy to move at least one leg. It wasn’t enough to escape yet, but it was a beginning. The buyer screeched with rage, leaping forward and driving Grall back towards the door, stopping just short of Izzy. “I paid 150000 thalers for this animal. I will ride her to my throne. I’d rather kill you than give her to you,” he hissed. Grall spat some blood on the ground. “The toilet is the only throne you’ll ever see. The money’s your problem, just don’t shop with horse thieves. But Izzy’s coming with me, and I’ll walk over your dead body if I have to.” Despite his leg, he skilfully dodged the attacker and hurriedly cut the straps of her gag. He had called her Izzy, she realised, and her heart beat faster. “Quick, free me,” she shouted, but as happy as she was to be rescued, she had to tell him something else; all this couldn’t have been pointless. “But I’m not going back with you. Never.” She felt silly arguing at that very moment, but it had to be said. The betrayal weighed heavily on her and she couldn’t and wouldn’t go back to a place where she couldn’t trust anyone. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Grall replied breathlessly, and only now did Izzy realise that something was wrong with him. His skin was pale and deep worry lines stretched across his face. He was also dirty, as if he had only been riding for days. “Then why are you here?” she asked, confused as the fight continued. A spark of dangerous hope ignited in her chest; had she misjudged him again? It took a moment for Grall to find the time to answer. “What do you think? I thought you had been kidnapped. That you were in danger and I had to save you.” “Nobody kidnapped me…” Izzy looked away, embarrassed. “I ran away. From you with your stupid brand and your father.” “Could you please be a bit quieter, I’m trying to slit a throat here!” Pelkor shouted in annoyance as his blade narrowly missed Gribat. “You’re all mad!” growled the buyer. “Shut up, I’m talking to my friend,” Grall hissed and kicked the stranger in the stomach. It was almost funny, Izzy thought, but she preferred to use the brief pause in the fight to ask another question. “Then you won’t take me back and punish me?” “What? No! I was just terribly worried about you. We searched everywhere in vain and even rode far into goblin country — but then there were rumours that a royal horse had been sold here in the city.” His blade missed the buyer and left a deep gouge in a support beam. “You could have said you didn’t want my brand.” It didn’t escape Izzy’s notice that not even the stranger’s knife caused him as much pain as those words. “But you were so happy about it. Besides, that’s not all…Hersia told me that your father registered me to you when I was born. I’ve always been your ponygirl!” That was a mistake, Izzy realised, this news upset Grall and a deep cut in his arm was the reward. “Impossible. He would have told me that —“ His gaze darkened. ”— or not. Anyway, I’ll get you out of here, then you can decide for yourself.” All the fighters looked exhausted, they were bleeding from multiple wounds and it didn’t look like it was going to end well. “You can still leave,” Pelkor shouted, jumping away from the door. “Just get out of here and we’ll forget about this. The blacksmith was a scumbag, no one will miss him.” The buyer nodded mutely. “You go and we’ll keep the horse and everything will be fine.” “No way,” Grall gasped. “I’m not leaving without Izzy!” Gribat spat on the ground. “I’m not going to die for a horse! We were going to look for her, not end up six feet under for her.” “Can we settle on a draw?” asked Grall, half grinning. “I’ll take Izzy, but I’ll get you the money.” The buyer seemed to consider, but Izzy saw what he was really doing. As Grall eyed him, he pulled a second knife from his waistband. Before she could warn Grall, the goblin raised his hand quickly. The story of her father ran through Izzy’s mind. Had her mother felt like that when the prince was killed? Had she seen her father draw the knife and sensed that her beloved master would be dead a moment later? Time seemed to pass in slow motion. Izzy swallowed hard. All the hatred of the last few days fizzled out in a wave of deep fear. Nothing that had happened, not even in the last few weeks, was stronger than the fear for her best friend. The goblins were quick, and the buyer was no exception. In a few moments, the knife would slip from his hand, fly through the air and — it seemed — rip Grall’s heart to pieces. Izzy had no doubt that this goblin knew what he was doing, and the knife would kill Grall. As if by reflex — but she wouldn’t have done otherwise if it had been a conscious decision — she kicked the buyer in the back. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, her position was too unfavourable for that, but it was enough to throw him off balance. The knife had already left his hand, but her thrust was enough for one last finger to alter the trajectory by just a few centimetres. The knife whizzed through the air with a screech and sank effortlessly into Grall’s body. Just like the prince, Grall fell backwards, lifeless. Izzy screamed until her lungs burned. The branding The hard slam of Grall’s limp body on the cold stone floor echoed through the forge, kicking up dust that covered the room like a veil. Izzy was still screaming, but no one paid any attention to her — the fight wasn’t over yet. Unbeknownst to her, Gribat had shifted the battle with Pelkor to Izzy’s side, and he took the only opportunity to sever the last strap. She jumped to her feet. Never before had she been so focussed on a single target, her gaze fixed on the buyer as if through a tunnel: He was kneeling next to Grall and was raising his knife high in the air, ready to plunge the sharp metal into Grall’s stomach and become a murderer for good — if there was any life left in the fallen goblin. Izzy lashed out and hit the villain with her horseshoe in the head, which exploded like a watermelon. It was a terrible mess, but Izzy wasn’t done yet. She lifted her other foot and shattered Pelkors spine. The goblin’s scream was terrible, but Gribat put an end to it with a quick cut. It was a cruel few minutes, far removed from anything Izzy had ever experienced, but the silence afterwards was almost worse. Gribat looked at Izzy, they were both trembling. The groom was wounded and released Izzy’s hands with his last remaining strength. Izzy took the gag out of her mouth and went to her knees beside Grall, who was lying on the dirty floor. Her whole world was shaking. Until now, she had thought this was all about her life, but now it was about him too. It was bad enough that he had offered his freedom on the bet, but now he had risked his life for her. Deepest shame flooded her body, without her escape, none of this would have happened. Perhaps as a friend he should have told her the truth earlier and listened more carefully, but this here was undeniable proof of his friendship. And yet everything seemed to have come to an end here. She leant forward and placed a hand tenderly on his chest; his heart beat faintly for her. “He’s alive!” Izzy shouted loud enough for half the town to hear. “Keep it down,” Gribat warned her with a groan. “Stupid animal.” He held a bleeding wound on his stomach. “We must leave quickly, we have no friends in this city. Can you carry him? Good. Sunshine and Lisande are waiting outside.” Izzy carefully picked Grall up, his face twisted in pain as he groaned with every movement. Enough goblins had already died that day, Izzy thought, and she certainly didn’t want to lose her best friend — the only one she really needed. Despite her size, she was surprisingly affectionate as she hugged him to her chest, giving him some warmth as well. She felt his heart adjust to her rhythm and calm down. Together, they crept out to where Sunshine and Lisande were waiting for them. To Izzy’s surprise, they were not tied up, even their horse bits were hanging loose. “Surprise!” exclaimed Sunshine and Lisande at the same time, but their faces froze at the sight of the goblins. Izzy’s heart leapt, but it wasn’t the right time for a warm greeting. “What happened? Wait, tell us later,” Sunshine asked with wide eyes. “We have to leave quickly. I saw guards back there, they must have heard the noise. Gribat, hurry and jump in the saddle,” she demanded sharply, and Gribat followed his mount’s command. “Put Grall in my saddle,” Lisande demanded, but Izzy shook her head. “Grall stays with me!” she said more harshly than necessary, but the other horse understood. Gribat was barely in the saddle when Sunshine set off, leading the five of them through side streets and dark alleyways to the well-guarded main gate. “My first owner lived near the city, so I know my way around a bit. A bastard called Pelkor.” Izzy laughed. “A goblin with no backbone. Forget him, he’s history.” “Good!” said Sunshine. “We have to get through the gate. They won’t let us out like this; not with Grall in Izzy’s arms. We have to run through, but they’ll come after us. Best we distract them and you just keep running.” “What if I’m against it?” asked Gribat in a huff, clearly not very fond of the role of weight in the saddle. “You’re really rebellious for a ponygirl…” “Then you’re welcome to walk. But if you don’t have a better suggestion, then put the horse bit in my mouth and hold on tight because it’s about to get wild! Are you ready?” “Ready,” Gribat replied tight-lipped. “Not you, you blockhead! Buttercup! You’re only needed in the dark,” Sunshine snarled at him, clearly enjoying giving a goblin a piece of her mind. Gribat probably didn’t have the strength to argue further that day, and not just because of his wound. “It’s all right, you don’t have to be mean!” Izzy took a deep breath. She looked at the unconscious Grall against her chest and nodded. Whatever happened, she would not share her mother’s fate — she would save her goblin, whatever the cost. “I’m ready.” She glanced briefly at the gate and readied herself; even if it might mean running straight into Oozol’s arms and him never letting her go. For a brief moment, an unwanted thought entered her head: why not just run away again? Who would stop her? Her freedom lay beyond this gate, but if she brought Grall home, everything would be the same. She didn’t just shake the thought aside, instead she took it, folded it into a neat little package and tore it into a thousand little pieces. To hell with freedom, what was it worth if you didn’t have the ones you loved with you? Besides, she still had a few things to say to Oozol. “I’ll run ahead, you slip through the gate as soon as they follow me,” Sunshine said. “Is it bad that I’m a bit scared?” asked Lisande uncertainly. “We’re all scared,” replied Sunshine. “I don’t want to get caught in this shithole either. Don’t worry, they won’t catch us.” Gribat put the horse bits in their mouths. He rattled and some blood ran from the corner of his mouth, it was a harsh contrast to his green skin. The ponygirls ran off and all of them — including Gribat — made a hell of a racket, attracting the attention of the guards at the gate. The goblins in their armour tried to stop Sunshine and Lisande, but the ponygirls simply knocked them over and ran past them, whinnying loudly, but not too fast so that they still had a chance to mount their horses and follow them. Izzy crept up and slipped out almost unnoticed. She was already outside the gate when she heard one last guard call out behind her. Her legs flew over the cobblestones and she took off at a gallop down the street. The shiny coin slipped out of her intimate parts with the sudden movement — she had forgotten all about it in the excitement — and was left behind as a reminder for the town of the precious ponygirl they would never see again. The guard’s horse had no chance against her and soon Izzy disappeared into the forest. All that remained was some dust, an unused brand and the bodies of the men who had tried to steal her freedom. — “Sunshine? Lisande? Gribat?’ Izzy called into the darkness, but nobody answered. The night was cold and dark, but most importantly, Izzy had lost her sense of direction again. She had been running straight ahead off the road, hoping that this would take her home, but she wasn’t sure. Without her companions she would probably never find the way back, she feared and continued to search, but she remained alone. She found herself a little hollow and laid Grall on her bosom so that he would be comfortable and warm. It was a terrible sight: without medicine and bandages she could not treat his wounds, only the knife lay somewhere in the dirt far away near the town. The healthy green colour had disappeared from his face, giving way to a pale grey. “Izzy…,” Grall stammered deliriously. Izzy startled. They were his first words since the injury. “Grall? Grall, can you hear me?” She gently stroked his boiling forehead, but he didn’t open his eyes. “Dad, the other kids are so mean, but Izzy is my best friend… Dad, she let me ride her. It was wonderful… Dad, I don’t care what horses you have, I just want her. She’s the only one in the world I want to ride on… if she doesn’t want to, she doesn’t have to… Father, we have to find her, she’s probably in danger…. I won’t bring her back if she doesn’t want to… I’ll never let her down.” She gave him a kiss on the forehead. “And I won’t let you.” There was that strange feeling in her chest again, but now it was joined by a mother’s fear of losing her favourite child. But she wasn’t ready to give up just yet. — The next morning, she ignored her growling stomach and picked herself up with aching bones. She took Grall in her arms again and set off in the only direction that seemed suitable. Despite her hunger and thirst, she put one foot in front of the other and her legs carried her for many kilometres during the day, and more at night. The journey demanded all her reserves, but she knew the clock was ticking for Grall and she had no time to waste. There was no sign of her friends or Gribat, they must have taken a different route — she could only hope hers wasn’t the wrong one. It was day again, and finally evening; her legs were burning like fire and there was no denying it: she needed a break and somewhere to hide. The low sun shone through the dense foliage and the outline of a ruin loomed before Izzy. Izzy sneaked up slowly, but the place seemed deserted. She darted past the collapsed walls and laid Grall down on a bed of leaves and branches in front of the statue of a fat goblin king with a broken nose. The place seemed strangely familiar to her, as if it came from a memory born of a dream. She shook off the thought. “No one will disturb us here tonight,” Izzy whispered and lay down next to Grall, who was plagued by feverish dreams again. She held him close and could do nothing more than hope that he would live to see the next morning. She prayed silently, although she never did, and asked for rescue or for someone to lead her home. Her whispered words drifted like mist through the forest and disappeared into the darkness. — “Good morning, Buttercup,” a familiar voice whispered directly into her ear and Izzy cracked open her sleep-dusted eyes. The world was a blur and her head was as heavy as her legs. “Grall, you’re…” she began, but then she recognised the voice. “Drex!” She swallowed. “How did you find us?” Izzy shivered, this wasn’t the kind of help she’d been praying for, but now he was here. His ponygirl stood tethered to a tree, watching her curiously. “What happened to him? And where’s your saddle?” “We were attacked,” she said briefly. She slowly straightened up, ready to defend herself against the goblin if necessary. Her hands were free and she wouldn’t let him catch her; nothing would stop her from getting Grall home and to safety. She put one foot back and tensed her muscles. Drex raised his hands. “I didn’t expect that either. You two were a good team, besides, ponygirls rarely carry knives. That wouldn’t do any good to the throats of us goblins either.” His ponygirl giggled and winked. “Can you help him?” “No, it looks too severe, and there are no doctors or medicine in this area. Your farm is three days away, maybe two if we hurry. A long way, but probably the best I have to offer.” Izzy eyed him suspiciously. “How did you find us anyway?” “You snored loud enough to scare all the birds away. Besides, your fervour for the ruins has rubbed off on me. They are very fascinating. And you can even find valuable treasures in some of them. Worthwhile treasures, if you know what I mean.” “So you’re a treasure hunter…” “If you don’t need me, I’ll be happy to leave.” “Wait.” Izzy sighed. “Please help us. We can’t let him die.” “Fine, but what’s in it for me? No offence, but a few short rides don’t make us friends.” Izzy chewed on her lower lip and searched for a long time for something she could offer him. But as a horse she owned nothing, everything belonged to Grall, including herself. In this world, she was just a valuable animal, nothing more… of course! she thought. “I am your reward. Or rather: the finder’s fee. I ran away from my owner. He will reward you if you bring me back.” “Your owner is lying half-dead in front of me.” Drex tilted his head slightly and scrutinised her. “His father will pay, Oozol’s farm is known everywhere.” “Good, that sounds fair. How much will he give me for you?” His grin was wide enough that Izzy would have liked to shove her horse’s hoof down his throat; but she was depending on him. Later, perhaps. “At least 5,000 thalers. Certainly more if his son arrives alive. He’s generous when it comes to his son.” “That would be a lot of money for any other animal, but you’re something special. Why shouldn’t I leave your rider here and just take you with me?” Izzy jumped forward and looked down at the goblin. “Because nothing in the world could save you from my wrath if anything happened to Grall. I crushed one goblin’s head and broke another’s back to protect my -” she swallowed, remembering who she was talking to “- owner. Help me, or I’ll make you! You have a choice. Or not, actually.” The goblin had taken a step back at the words. “You’re probably the most unusual ponygirl I’ve ever met. Agreed, I’ll take you back to your stable and I’ll save Grall’s life — if I can. But you’re too dangerous for me like this. You have to be a ponygirl, or I won’t help you.” “And where am I supposed to get the gear for this?” asked Izzy harshly, snorting. “If you delay and anything happens to Grall, you’ll pay for it.” Izzy looked around and the realisation hit her like a lightning bolt; she stumbled back a few steps as her father’s words raged like a thunderstorm in her mind, “A Fat Goblin King with a broken nose from times past.” She covered her ears, but the words didn’t stop, finally she shouted them into the world so that they would finally be quiet. “Your statues are hardly any prettier…” Drex grumbled, but Izzy simply pushed him aside. She knelt in front of the statue like a supplicant and pushed aside a few small plants that hid the view of a niche beneath the stone feet. She swallowed and pulled out her mother’s ponygirl clothes. Drex whistled in surprise and took the saddle and bridle from her. “How did you know that?” “This is my mother’s gear, it was stored here when she stopped being a ponygirl.” Drex nodded slowly and looked her straight in the eye. “A ponygirl for a ponygirl.” His voice had taken on the power of a storm and a thousand little stars flashed in his eyes. He blinked and it was gone. “That makes sense. Our God takes strange paths sometimes, but the goal is always clear: you humans are subject to us, and so it shall always be.” It took a moment for Izzy to recover. “Oh, shut up!” she grumbled, but she just wanted to get away from the statue as quickly as possible. Without resistance, she had the saddle placed on her back. As soon as it was on her skin, a sharp wind swept through the forest and made the trees tremble. But she hardly noticed, her thoughts only centred on her mother and the strange feeling of carrying more of her stuff; she took her place, even their shared name was engraved on it. Only the Prince’s mark made it clear that this saddle had belonged to someone other than Izzy. Goosebumps ran down her back as the still amazingly soft leather wrapped around her arms. Every curve of the material nestled gently against her body, the saddle seemed made for her — so it was true, she looked like a sister to her mother, the saddle left no doubt about that. Izzy shivered at the thought, despite the many changes of the last few weeks, she felt particularly close to her mother at this moment, she could almost smell her in these clothes. Would she be proud of her, of a daughter who had submitted to a goblin without much coercion, to follow his reins and whip under his saddle? The saddle was followed by the bridle and finally the bit. Izzy hesitated before opening her mouth. “Take us straight to Oozol. We’ll only sleep if we absolutely have to!” Izzy ordered before the horse bit robbed her of her voice. It was a very intimate experience to share a horse bit with another ponygirl, but especially with her mother, who was probably not much older than when she had last taken it off. The taste was surprisingly neutral, and yet Izzy thought she recognised something familiar; it was probably just her imagination, and yet it had a wonderfully soothing effect. It was strange, but despite the many rides, they had never really found anything in the ruins; most had been looted long ago, or had never been more than an old outpost anyway. But now she realised that sometimes it wasn’t the destination, but the journey. The ride. The adventure. Travelling to the ruins had shaped her into what she was today. And whatever lay ahead of her in the coming hours and days, at least her mother was now by her side. Nothing bad could happen. As if in confirmation, the sun rose above the trees and bright sunshine warmed her body. “Tack!” shouted Drex and Izzy instinctively obeyed. She was a ponygirl one more, and her body reacted on its own. It felt familiar, normal and predetermined. She felt Drex place Grall in the saddle and secure him with some straps he took from his ponygirls saddlebag. Before Izzy could react, he tied her reins to his horse’s saddle. Izzy snorted angrily, but he only slapped her lightly on the bottom. “You are my pledge that my efforts will be worthwhile. Therefore, I will make sure that you reach your master.” Izzy didn’t like that, of course, but if it was necessary for Grall to live, it was acceptable. She nodded and got ready. Drex climbed into his saddle and gave his animal the spurs. The ride that followed surpassed everything that both ponygirls had ever had to endure in their lives. Drex spurred his horse on non-stop and could only give the ponygirls the absolutely necessary breaks. The whip remained in his hand and was used extensively whenever his horse slowed down even a little. Izzy, on the other hand, would have liked to run even faster, but her stamina was probably much better than her partner’s, even though she had been travelling for longer. Perhaps it was her disposition, or perhaps it was simply that her concern for Grall drove her on, but there was something else that gave her the strength she needed. It was a presence like a shadow in the corner of her eye that she felt beside her. A twin, with a magnificent bridle, mighty hooves and a powerful neigh that called directly into Izzy’s mind. Her mother had lost her prince, but now it felt like she wouldn’t allow her daughter to feel that pain. Izzy grinned and neighed enough as the hot sun burned on her back. Maybe it was all in her head, but ultimately, it didn’t matter; as long as it helped her save Grall, anything was fine with her. — Light was followed by darkness, darkness was followed by light. They only ate when they had to and only drank when they couldn’t help it. The nights were short and the hours on the move long. Izzy’s legs burned like fire, while her feet bled in her boots. Sweat had not run down her body for a long time, her body was too thirsty to spare the precious liquid. Her breathing was short and fast, veils were moving around in front of her eyes, and she could only guess how the exhausted ponygirl in front of her must feel. The monotonous sound of the two horses walking in unison rang through the forest and it was the only thing that kept Izzy sane. She had never been so absorbed in her role as a ponygirl; she was on the verge of summoning every last ounce of strength in her body just so that her rider — even if he was half-dead in the saddle — would reach his destination. It was the complete devotion of an animal to its master, but all that mattered to her right now was that Grall survived. She swallowed with a dry mouth and continued to put one foot in front of the other as the weight on her back became heavier and heavier. Grall was actually as light as a feather to her, but after such a long and intense journey, everything about her felt heavy as lead, even the perfect saddle failed to distribute the weight enough. All in all, it was more than any horse could bear, and yet there was no alternative. She had to do it, and she would make it. With every meter, she wondered again how far it was, but with the horse bit in her mouth she couldn’t ask — if Drex even knew the distance. He, too, hung weakly in his saddle, staring ahead while Izzy was fixated on him. On the evening of the second day, Drex pulled on his horse’s reins and raised his hand for Izzy to stop. She looked at him in surprise, but he just pointed ahead. Izzy glanced past his ponygirl and tears of relief streamed down her face. Faster than should have been possible, they had reached their destination. Oozol’s farm was right in front of them. Oozol was the first they saw, sitting in his rocking chair and staring up at the sky. His gaze was blank, he looked feeble and older than before. For a brief moment, Izzy felt a little pity for him, but then she remembered his lies and the feeling fizzled out immediately. She neighed loudly and the old goblin jerked his head in her direction. He snapped his eyes open, jumped out of the rocking chair with renewed vigour and ran to Izzy. Before he got to her, she turned round and went to her knees. “Grall!” said Oozol in agony and carefully laid his son on the ground. “Get help. Quickly! GET HELP!” “So I’ve kept my end of the bargain. Where’s my money?’ said Drex, who obviously had little regard for tact. Izzy nudged him angrily and showed him to take the horse bit out of her mouth. “What’s happened? Who’s that with you, Buttercup?” asked Oozol as they took his son to the doctor. “Izzy,” she hissed, and Oozol took a step back, then she explained everything to him briefly, as the old man was obviously eager to follow his son. “Drex, you’ll get your money, but not until later. Find a room in the village, I’ll pay for that too. Buttercup, you go to your stable.” “Izzy!” It was silly, really, but to her, the old goblin had lost the right to her ponygirl name with his lies. “And, no, I won’t.” “But…” said Oozol, but Izzy cut him off. “I’m going to see my father. There’s a lot I need to discuss with him. And with you later. Take care of Grall.” With that, she turned and left the stunned goblins behind, none of whom were used to a ponygirl giving them orders like that. She looked one last time at Drex, who grinned slightly. Izzy galloped off alone to her father, who was visibly surprised at the sight. She marched straight into the stable and collapsed just behind the door. — “Now tell me what happened out there,” her father asked after Izzy had devoured her third bowl of soup and three jugs of water. Or rather, after he had fed her with it, as he didn’t have a trough in the stable. Even now, he hadn’t taken the saddle from her, and she hadn’t asked for it. “Why did you run off?” Izzy thought long and hard. It would be easy to shout at him directly, and everything inside her demanded it, but he was also her father and he had earned her respect many times over. “I found my mother,” she finally said, turning her head to the side and pointing at her saddle. Matheus stared in amazement at the prince’s symbol while his mouth fell open. Until now, he had only had eyes for his exhausted daughter, but now he realised what she meant. “How… where… but, that’s impossible!” “I prayed for help, and I got it. The god of the goblins must have an ear for the beasts of the greenlings.” She laughed bitterly. “Drex said that’s what the goblin god wanted. One ponygirl in exchange for another. Do you believe that?” Her father tilted his head and remained thoughtfully silent. “You guessed what would happen, am I right?” Matheus pursed his lips, his eyebrows moved downwards and he took his time answering. “Your mother was an impressive woman, and an even more impressive ponygirl. With each passing year, you became more like her, there’s no denying it was more than fate.” “A fate you and Oozol helped to bring about!” hissed Izzy. She didn’t want to, but the fire in her belly was hard to contain. “What do you mean?” “You knew I was registered when I was born. I was always Grall Ponygirl. ALWAYS! Tell the truth!” Her father lowered his eyes, embarrassed. “It’s true, but we had to do it. Your mother was registered, though hardly anyone knew it. If we hadn’t done it, someone else could have registered you, against our will. We didn’t know for sure how widely the rumours about your mother were known. Your mum’s last wish was for you to grow up as a human and then decide for yourself which path to take. We all stuck to that.” “All except Oozol, of course.” “That’s not true. He also respected your mother’s wish until you ventured under the saddle yourself. He’s a goblin and deals in ponygirls, what did you expect his reaction to be?” Izzy huffed angrily. “Still, it was a lie that the registration was necessary!” “Not necessarily. If the goblin boy had looked at the register, it would have been spotted. Nothing would have been different.” “Yes, you wouldn’t have lied to me. There’s a big difference!” She jumped up and looked down at her father, realising for the first time that the weight of the last few weeks was weighing heavily on his shoulders. He seemed smaller than usual, leaning forwards more. “You’re right, I should have told you. But there was never the right moment and then it was too late. I will never lie to you again, I promise. But you have to believe me, we all wanted the best for you. Tell me, did any of us ever influence you to become a ponygirl before you did it by yourself?” Izzy shook her head slowly. Even Oozol was innocent in that regard. “I apologise to you for keeping quiet for too long, but we — Oozol included — wanted to leave the way back open for you. But there simply came a point when it was no longer possible.” “But why did it have to be Grall? Why did you register me on him?” Now her father smiled faintly. “As fathers, it just seemed right to give our children a connection along the way. We always hoped you would become friends. It was stupid, but it felt right at the time. We — or at least I — didn’t fully consider the consequences. Please understand, but I had also lost my wife that day, your connection to Grall gave me a strange feeling of protection for you. I didn’t know what the future would bring.” Now it was Izzy’s turn to be thoughtfully silent. The anger at her father had subsided, and even her hatred of Oozol no longer burned as strongly. The lies of the past remained unchanged, but they seemed less important. “Do I have to go back to Oozol?” He nodded slowly. “But as long as Oozol allows it, you are always welcome here.” “No, I mean, can I stay as long as I want to?” “He won’t like that.” Izzy laughed dryly. “That’s his problem then. You’re friends, I thought. What am I supposed to do in his stable if Grall isn’t there?” A stab went through her heart. “But please ask him how Grall is doing.” “Every day.” “Every morning and every evening,” Izzy demanded, realising how much had changed between her and her father. Not only had she become a ponygirl, she had really grown up. She would never have talked to him like that before, but now she was her own person who had made her own mistakes. And in a strange way, she was proud of it. Her father also looked at her with a look he had never given her before — for the first time she felt equal to him, and the saddle on her back didn’t change that. — Over the following days, Oozol arrived punctually every morning to collect Izzy, but Matheus sent him away empty-handed. At least Izzy learnt that Lisande, Sunshine and even Gribat had arrived at the farm the day after Izzy, exhausted and wounded; one less burden to carry. But Oozol kept coming back. It wasn’t that Matheus denied that Izzy was with him — often Oozol could even see her in the stables where she was staying at the moment. But as Izzy heard, her father refused to hand her over, citing their friendship. But with each passing day, the demand became clearer, and Izzy realised that their bond had its limits. “Why is this so damn important to you?” Matheus asked his friend out loud. She had rarely seen her father so upset. Oozol crossed his arms. “Because she’s a ponygirl, and I need to know she’s safe. No offence, but…” “You’re afraid she’ll run away again?” “Shouldn’t I be? But that’s not the point. I’m worried about her, that’s all.” “If you really care about her,” Matheus said, “you’ll wait until she’s ready.” Oozol nodded. “How’s Grall?” called Izzy from the stable, but didn’t join them. Being around Oozol still disgusted her, and her father’s explanation didn’t change that. “Unchanged. He’s alive, but only just. The doctors don’t know exactly what’s wrong with him. They say it’s more than just medicine. They were able to snatch him from the shadows, but now it’s up to him.” — After Oozol had left, Izzy stared up at the sky. Her thoughts were racing. Not only was her best friend fighting for his life, but her own future was still uncertain. Meanwhile, her mother’s items rested cleaned in the stable, where they were an everlasting reminder of her past. Izzy often watched her father go into the stable and take a long look at the things; she could only imagine what it felt like for him. On days like this, she preferred to do a bit of wandering in nature. It was one of the few times during the day that she would wear a dress; even the thinnest fabric felt strange and improper, like a prison against her skin that she only wore so that everyone wouldn’t be immediately reminded that she was a ponygirl. Still, the fabric was as skimpy as possible, leaving her arms exposed and even her strong legs barely covered. The breeze caressed her knees; it had been a long time since she had felt so unbound, but also so lonely. Whenever possible, she avoided humans and goblins, content to be near birds and squirrels. It was a beautiful day, the sun was high and the sky was clear of clouds, while a balmy breeze shook the leaves in the trees. She turned around one last tree and ran straight into Mexi, who landed on her bum in surprise. “Ouch,” Mexi grumbled, but then her face brightened. “Buttercup!” “Izzy,” Izzy replied a little annoyed, she was tired of correcting people by now, although in this case, it was a little different, as she realised from Mexi’s face. “Oh, well… you… of course…, if that’s what you want,” the goblin girl stuttered. “You’re wearing a dress,” Mexi realised. There was an undertone to her words; as always with Mexi, it wasn’t malicious, but it was also more than pure surprise — it sounded more like she’d just seen a cow wearing a hat wishing her a good morning. “Shall we go and sit by the lake?” Izzy asked, leading the way without waiting for Mexi’s reply. She would follow her if she wanted. “Please don’t run so fast… Izzy!” Izzy sat down in the soft sand just before the water and waited until Mexi had caught up with her. “How’s Grall?” Mexi could visibly just stop herself from scratching Izzy’s head. Old habits die hard, Izzy thought, and realised that Mexi was clearly having a hard time not seeing her as a ponygirl. “He hasn’t woken up yet, but he sometimes talks in his sleep. Often about you. I was at his bedside every day, but the doctor said I had to think about myself too and sent me away. But what am I supposed to do, I can’t have fun somewhere while he might be…” The girl began to cry bitterly, even more so when Izzy took her in her arms. “I know.” Izzy’s tears came too, and together they wept for the silly little goblin they both loved so much. Finally, they wiped the tears from their faces. Mexi smiled at Izzy and, lost in thought, reached into her pocket and held a treat out to Izzy, who ate it out of her hand without hesitation. Izzy froze when it was already half chewed, but it was too late anyway. They both looked at each other embarrassed. “So you’re not his horse any more?” Mexi asked, realising too late that this was perhaps not the best moment for it. She suddenly turned red, while Izzy swallowed the treat. The answer to that seemed so obvious, Izzy thought, but when she tried to open her mouth, she choked on the words. Yes, no, maybe? What was the truth? “I don’t know,” Izzy finally said, because that was the truth. “I liked the name Buttercup, but Izzy’s pretty too.” Mexi avoided Izzy’s gaze, her head still all red. “Actually, my name’s Isabel, but no one’s called me that for a while. Except when someone was angry with me — although a ponygirl is more likely to get the whip.” Now Izzy blushed slightly and Mexi giggled. “Are you going to visit Grall? After all, it could be that…” “Don’t say it!” grumbled Izzy. “I don’t want to hear that.” “Go and see him. Please. Isabel, Izzy. Buttercup. Whoever you are then, just go and see him.” Izzy nodded slowly. “I can’t. If I went to Oozol, I’d probably stay there. Where’s Albaea anyway?” “In the stable. She can sense when I’m not feeling well and I didn’t want to upset her. She’s a good horse, just like you.” Izzy looked her in the eyes, but quickly realised it was simply an observation, with no ill intent. “Let me know if — when — he wakes up.” With that, Izzy said goodbye, but her mind was still racing. Izzy’s dress had ridden up and Mexi tenderly stroked her bottom in farewell and gave her a pat before she realised what she had just done. She turned a little redder and apologised a thousand times, but Izzy just sighed. Old habits, Izzy thought again. But what if Grall woke up, she pondered further. Would she become his horse again? How would she decide if he gave her the choice again? Freedom seemed tempting, but what would happen then? The whole village had seen her as a horse, and her reputation was ruined. But even if that wasn’t the case, without a school certificate, she was denied the good professions. What’s more, she had few talents that would make her working life easier. The only thing she was good at was carrying a little green goblin around the world. She was unbeatable at that, and for Grall she even liked it, if she was completely honest with herself. It was a nice feeling to be useful to a friend. But if Grall died — and she dreaded that thought more than anything else — it was a moot point anyway. She would never submit to another goblin, Oozol could believe what he wanted. Maybe she would do it for Mexi, but she already had a horse. — It had been days, and the weather had cooled noticeably when Mexi ran to Izzy’s father’s farm. Her head looked like it was about to explode and it took her a few deep breaths before she found her voice. Izzy rushed out of the stable and was waiting spellbound for her first words. “He’s awake,” was all she could say, but it was enough. Izzy, who had been staring at the ceiling in the stable for days without any strength or hope, stood up straight and looked her father straight in the eyes. “Saddle me quickly, Mexi is riding me back to the farm”. “Are you sure? If you go there, you’ll probably stay there. I can send Oozol away, but I can’t kidnap you from this farm.” “I’ve never been so sure of anything before.” She gave her father a kiss. “Why didn’t you come to Albaea, anyway?” she asked Mexi. Mexi bit her tongue. “She wasn’t saddled and I didn’t want to wait a second longer than I had to.” “You left his side for me?” “Of course, that’s what he would have wanted.” “Thank you,” Izzy whispered. Her father reached for her mother’s saddle and bridle, and Izzy felt again the soft matter that connected her so intimately with her mother. She got down on her knees for Mexi and the goblin girl gave her the whip to drive her quickly to the farm. It was the first time Mexi had done this to her, but Izzy was grateful. She had no time to waste, not when it came to Grall. Again, it felt unfamiliar to have someone other than Grall riding her, but with Mexi it still seemed strangely familiar and right. The little goblin girl had earned Izzy’s trust, and now they rode together to their goblin. — “Open the gate!” Mexi ordered as Izzy swept through the undergrowth. The reins hung dormant and the horse’s bit wasn’t in; but that wasn’t necessary, this was one of the few routes Izzy knew by heart — and she wouldn’t have obeyed anyway. Izzy sprinted into the open square and pressed her hooves hard into the sandy ground. Stones and dirt whirled up and enveloped the surprised grooms in a thick cloud of dust. They coughed and waved their arms, but no one dared to reprimand Izzy for it, they were too impressed by her tall figure and serious look, which made even the experienced grooms take a step back. “Take me to Grall,” she ordered, and Mexi jumped out of the saddle rather than bring Izzy to her knees with a short “Tack!”. She led Izzy by the hand — without even looking at her reins, let alone touching them — past Oozol’s house to a guest cottage that was slightly larger than the rooms in Oozol’s house. The cabin was still too small for a human, but there was enough room for a clean bed — which was not made of earth — and large windows that let in enough light for a sick goblin who struggled with death every day. Oozol opened the door and looked at Izzy with a gaze that was hard to interpret. “He’s still asleep.” His voice was soft, almost tender, but Izzy knew it was for Grall and not for her. “I want to see him.” “After everything you did to him?” Oozol grumbled, and some life came back into him. “He loved you and you stabbed him in the back. Figuratively speaking. Don’t think I’m going to forgive you so easily just because you brought him back to me. He would never have gone off without you! He threatened to search the whole island until he found you, even if it had taken years — you know he would have done it.” A small tear ran down the old goblin’s cheek. A second and third joined in; they gathered at the edge of his chin and burst like Izzy’s dreams on the hard ground of reality. His mouth trembled with the next words. “I was wrong, I don’t want to see you any more. Get out of here. And don’t come back.” “I want to see him,” Izzy insisted stubbornly. She didn’t move an inch. “So you can break his heart again? Go away!” Oozol reared up to his full height. “Get out or I’ll sell you at the Miridos horse market tomorrow!” he shouted at Izzy. His whole body shook and his eyes burned like fire. “I want to see him.” “Open the door,” came a weak voice from the room and Oozol turned round unhappily. “I want to see her.” “But…” Oozol began, before pushing the door open and stepping aside. Grall lay weak in bed, his eyes almost closed and the colour had not returned to his face. He was emaciated and visibly barely escaped death, and Izzy feared that he could still lose the fight. The sight was like a punch to her gut and her eyes grew moist; it took all her strength not to drop to her knees here and now. Instead, she crouched slightly so that Grall could see her better through the low door. Mexi had hurried to his side, sitting on a small stool at the head of the bed and holding his hand. To Izzy’s incomprehensible surprise, he smiled warmly at her. “Grall it -” With obvious great difficulty, he raised a hand and silenced her. “Please don’t apologise. You don’t have to do that. You’re my best friend in the whole world — at least among humans,” he looked at Mexi and winked, “and I thanked you by luring you into a stable. I wanted you to be my horse because I thought it would make us both happy, but it only made us miserable.” He coughed and Izzy saw Mexi wince at that. The goblin girl must have sensed how close to death he still was, but Grall kindly refused her help. “Please forgive me.” “You need to rest,” said Oozol and Mexi at the same time, but Grall paid no attention. Under the astonished stares of his onlookers, he pushed the blanket aside and slid one leg out of the bed, then the next. With a loud groan, he pushed himself up and straightened to sit on the edge of the bed. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not dead yet,” he mocked, but he still needed Mexi’s hand on his back to keep him from falling over. Oozol looked sternly at Izzy. “You’re overworking him, Isabel. This is my farm and I want you to leave.” Izzy raised an eyebrow. Isabel… he hadn’t called her that for a long time. Had it become so serious for him that he could jump over his shadow and revoke her status as a ponygirl? Shouldn’t she be happy now, wasn’t that what she wanted? A return to human life — if that was even possible? She pawed her hooves uncertainly. “But then she’d have to take me with her,” Grall said, some colour returning to his face. “You played a dirty trick on both of us when you kept the truth from us. You’re my father, but I don’t know if I can forgive you.” Oozol stared at him with wide eyes. “It was necessary, and yet only for your own good…” “We’re not children, you had no right to keep it a secret. If you think I’m going to let Izzy down again, you’re wrong. We’ll never part again. I’d rather leave you behind than Izzy.” Oozol didn’t answer for a long time, but Izzy realised that Grall’s words had affected him deeply. Good. “I’m sorry,” was all he could say in the end, but it was enough. His slumped figure was clear evidence to Izzy that he really meant it. “What now?” “Now Izzy can decide what she wants to be in the future. No more lies. No more secrets,’ Grall demanded, his voice become a little firmer. She swallowed. So Grall was still serious. She was human again, at least for the goblins on this farm. There was a way back from a trap that really knew no exit. All she had to do was turn around and go home. To her father and a life full of… nothing. Just like the last few days. The freedom she had been willing to give up everything she had known in her life suddenly seemed so empty and unimportant compared to what she had gained in the last few weeks. As difficult as it was to describe, she had often enjoyed the intimate closeness with Grall. He was, undoubtedly, her best friend, and this summer she had become closer to him than ever before. And if she was really honest with herself, there was no coming back from that. The fear for him had almost killed her, and she would never leave him alone again. From now on, she would always be by his side. That strange feeling in her stomach came over her again, which must have been like a mother seeing her sick child, but in the end it didn’t matter. She would protect him in the future. Always. Something inside her head shifted; a change that was probably visible from the outside, as all the goblins were watching her closely. None of them made a sound. “Am I right, Izzy?” asked Grall. She plucked up all her courage. This was a big step — not the first, but the last in a long line that began innocently. But this was her choice, and unlike before, she was surprisingly lucid. She even took some time for her emotions to slowly subside. What remained was a deep sense of peace and the knowledge that her life had a clear purpose from now on. This time she would not be tempted by rush or pressure; this was a choice of her heart and mind. “Buttercup,” she said without remorse. “What did you say?” asked Oozol. “My name is Buttercup,” she repeated louder and smiled mischievously. A heavyweight fell from her heart and she felt her shoulders lift of their own accord. She straightened her back and looked Grall straight in the eye. “My name is Buttercup. It was my mother’s name too, and it’s the name my…” she hesitated briefly, but the warmth in Mexi’s look gave her the strength she needed. “… my owner gave me. Grall, you knew how important the name would be to me — how important it is to me.” Buttercup’s words were followed by a moment of complete silence. Everyone was aware of what had just happened, but none of them dared to disturb the moment. It belonged only to her and Grall, who looked deep into each other’s eyes without blinking, reaching into the furthest corners of their souls. Then Grall pressed his arms against the bedstead and lifted himself out of bed with renewed vigour. Like an awakening — albeit tiny — giant, he stretched his cracking bones and heaved himself onto his wobbly legs. “A miracle!” exclaimed Pexo, who had gathered with the other grooms around the house, and Oozol patted him on the back approvingly. Grall’s father seemed to be searching for the right words, but he couldn’t manage more than a faint whisper. “What saddle do you have on your back, it’s not mine, is it?” asked Grall, whose eyes were not yet fully open. “Your god gave it to me. It belonged to my mum, I brought you home with it,” Buttercup explained, and although that shouldn’t really make any sense, the goblins nodded. “A ponygirl for a ponygirl,” Oozol stammered quietly, and his eyes lit up briefly like the stars in the night sky. Grall took a step forward and almost fell, but Mexi caught him in time. But the young goblin was not ready to go back to bed, his goal was clearly in front of him. He put another foot forward and slowly found his rhythm with the following steps. While Buttercup feared that Oozol was right and that she was torturing him more than helping him with her presence, Grall reached the door frame and held on tight. His face was already quite green again and his ears were sticking up. “Brother, you’re up!” squeaked Saxea, who had just ridden up on Sunshine. She jumped over Sunshine’s head, rolled across the ground and hugged Grall so tightly that Buttercup was afraid it would put the goblin under the ground for good. But Saxea probably knew the limits and let go of her brother before it was too late, giving him a kiss on the cheek. She only had a cold shoulder for Buttercup, however, and Buttercup couldn’t blame her. Sunshine, on the other hand, had that special look she always gave Buttercup when she was about to throw her life away. But here and now it didn’t matter. This was her decision and Sunshine would have to accept it. But Grall still wasn’t done, he pushed away from the door frame and took three quick steps towards Buttercup, who stood up in surprise. She couldn’t catch him with her bound hands, but she didn’t need to. “Careful!” she shouted, but Grall stopped in front of her and purposefully got to his knees. He just gave her a cheeky smile, then bent down and kissed her hooves to the astonished “Oooh…” of the goblins. Buttercup was speechless, too — goblins didn’t do that, at least not ones in their right mind. Perhaps the injury had robbed him of his mind after all? “Don’t look at me like that,” said Grall after he had pulled himself to his feet again — with Buttercup, his horse, to support him. “She did it to me, too. Equal rights for everyone!” “Equal rights for everyone,” Buttercup confirmed and did the same. “Two to one in my favour.” The goblins laughed. Meanwhile, Sunshine had trotted over to Buttercup and pressed herself against her. Saxea looked at the two of them thoughtfully, then a decision seemed to have formed in her little head. She went to Sunshine, knelt down in front of the surprised horse and gave her hoof boots a kiss too. Sunshine looked wide-eyed at the little girl, but for that day at least, she left it at that and laid her head on the girl’s shoulder instead. Saxea seemed happy with this too, she stroked Sunshine’s mane and they both observed the situation in silence. “So you’re going to stay with me then?” asked Grall, although he certainly already knew the answer. “If I leave you alone, you’ll catch another knife.” Buttercup giggled, but immediately became more serious. “But I demand some changes!” She ignored the loud snort from Oozol. Grall, on the other hand, tilted his head and listened. “Firstly, I want no more public flogging of ponygirls. You’ll find a better way, I’m sure.” Oozol nodded, and for a brief blink Buttercup was sure he was relieved too. “Besides, all stables get a bed!” At this point Grall laughed. “No.” “No?” Buttercup asked in surprise. She had expected resistance to the whipping, but not to the beds. “Whipping is cruel, but beds would remind most ponygirls of a life that’s behind them. I’d give you one, of course, but then everyone else would be unhappy. Counter-suggestion: a lot more soft straw and a blanket. We’ll also heat the stables better in winter.” Oozol wanted to say something, but Grall put a finger over his mouth. “I won’t give you a choice.” Buttercup looked at him thoughtfully, then nodded. “It’s a deal. I’d shake your hands, but you know why I can’t.” “Good, I guess that makes you officially my ponygirl again. But you don’t have to worry, the brand is off the table.” He looked at her and noticed a strange gleam in her eye. “What’s going on? You can tell me anything, really.” “About the brand… it terrified me, and still does, but… when the knife hit you, I thought of my mother, and her prince…” “And I’m your prince?” He grinned broadly and straightened up. “You’re my little twat who’s ruining everything with his silliness.” Buttercup stomped angrily, but a smile flitted across her face nonetheless. “If you still want it, you can do it.” Grall’s eyes nearly fell out of his head. “You want to wear my brand?” “What else do you want to hear, should I beg for it?” He waved it off. “No, I just wanted to make sure. Do you know why it’s so important to me?” “Because it shows on my bum that you own me,” Buttercup replied. “That’s important too, it will look great on your bottom. But we goblins also say that it creates an almost magical bond between rider and horse, at least if both want it equally. We’ll see if that’s true.” The uncertainty was gone from his step and he almost looked like her best friend from days gone by: young, lively and with a childish grin on his face that carried him through the day. Buttercup’s heart warmed, almost as much as her ass would shortly. It was only for her that he jumped off the brink of death once more; her presence alone gave him new courage to face life. Oozol patted Buttercup on the butt. “That’s a great decision. I’m proud of you. We’ll send someone to the blacksmith, I’m sure he’ll have time for us tomorrow.” Buttercup shook his head. “It has to be now. I might not have the courage tomorrow. Please, we have to do it right away.” “We have a fire burning at the back, but it’s not near enough to the rack, the brand would be cold before we get to you,” Oozol warned. “I don’t need a rack — I’ll stand very still, I promise,” Buttercup said, recognising the doubt in the goblins. “Really!” “It’s extraordinarily painful,” Oozol warned, and Sunshine agreed with him, whinnying. “We all believe you mean it, but you can’t know how you’ll react when you feel the brand on your skin.” She flinched and jumped a little to the side when something icy cold touched her bottom. Grall stood next to her and held the brand in his hand, laughing loudly. “Why is it so cold?” she asked angrily. “It was on my chest the whole time. Now you know how bad it was for me,” Grall said thoughtfully, before smiling again. “But you don’t have to worry, it’ll be a lot warmer soon, then it won’t be a problem.” Buttercup rolled her eyes and, after a “Tack!” she got down on her knees for him so that he could climb into the saddle. She could still feel a slight tremor in his grip, but there was little else left of the half-dead goblin. She wanted to get going, but Grall stopped her. “First the horse bit and the reins,” he warned, and put them in her mouth. Buttercup neighed. “The saddle is really comfortable and it fits like a glove. Now I really feel like a prince on his mare.” Oozol muttered in agreement. “She looks frighteningly like her mother, they could be sisters, the clothes fit her accordingly.” Buttercup shuddered at the words, but she felt the bond with her mother again. She was wearing her saddle and bridle, and had a beloved young goblin on her back; it must have felt the same with the prince. She could almost feel her mother beside her — accompanying her daughter on the way to the brand, giving her strength and almost audibly encouraging her. Buttercup felt nothing but peace and calm at that moment, despite the pain that awaited her. “Are you really sure?” asked Grall again, and Buttercup nodded; everyone realised that her stubbornness would win out in this case. “Get a table so that the height is right,” Oozol ordered and the whole courtyard got moving. The news spread and Pexo even opened the doors of the stables so that all the horses could come out and watch the spectacle. The goblins in the yard clapped loudly and some of the ponygirls stamped their hooves, while others just shook their heads at Buttercup. But none of that was important, this was all about her and Grall, even the laws of the goblins didn’t matter. She could have left if she had wanted to, but instead she marched with her head held high towards the table, next to which a large fire was blazing. At the sight of the table she paused briefly; the repaired cracks were still clearly visible, even the rough wood had hardly changed, she could almost feel the splinters on her skin again. This table had introduced her to the harsh realities of a ponygirls life, and now it would accompany her as she completed this journey. Grall steered her right next to the fire, which bathed his surroundings in a flickering orange light. The warmth spread like a mist and made Buttercup shiver. The young goblin jumped out of the saddle full of energy and it seemed as if he had never been ill; only the wound on his shoulder was a reminder of the past days. “You look well again,” Oozol said with moist eyes and hugged his boy. “Our God banished you from the realm of the dead so that you could do what we were created to do. And Buttercup, what she was born for.” Buttercup neighed, and Grall took the horse bit out of her mouth. “Have you changed your mind?” “No, but we always talk about the god of the goblins, but what’s his name anyway?” All the goblins laughed at the same time. “He doesn’t have a name,” Grall explained. “He doesn’t need one either. He is our god. That’s all that matters. Would you give a river a name if there was only one? That would be useless. He is our God, we know that.” “But how do you know he exists?” Grall looked deep into her eyes. “Isn’t it enough proof for you that you’re standing here in front of the fire with your mother’s saddle, willing to be marked with my brand? Every ponygirl is dedicated to him.” Buttercup bit her lower lip. ‘You want to dedicate me to your god? Oozol chimed in. “We don’t have to, you were already when you were born; and it obviously worked. You were the foal of a ponygirl, it was only right to do it directly. Today was destined for you.” Grall beckoned Buttercup down to him, he took her head in his hands and looked at her seriously. “Are you completely sure you want to do this? No one is forcing you. If you want, I’ll take your gear off you, find you a dress and take you back to your father in a cart. We’d all never talk about what happened again and you’d go back to being a young woman who could do whatever she wanted.” “Just like that? Why couldn’t you do that before?” “Because my son makes it easier than it is. But if we talk to the village, give people plenty of expensive gifts and do a few things I’d rather not elaborate on now… let’s put it this way: it’s hard, but it could be possible. But it remains very risky, and if it fails, you might become the property of a stranger.” Buttercup snorted. “Thank you, but I’ve made up my mind. I want it this way!” That was the truth. Still, it felt good to have the choice, it made this moment truly meaningful. Something fundamental had changed for Buttercup with Grall’s attack at Pelkor’s forge: He had risked his life for her — because he feared for her, not because he wanted his ponygirl back. Life as a ponygirl had brought Buttercup closer to Grall than all the years before. And she wasn’t willing to give that up, even if the price was a saddle and a horse bit. “I better not regret it later!” “Are you sure?” “Not if you wait any longer.” Buttercup hissed and gave Grall a light push. At first, she feared that she had overdone it and that he wasn’t strong enough yet and would fall, but he made a sidestep and stuck his tongue out at her. With a mischievous grin, he placed the brand in the fire and watched intently as the metal slowly changed from an ashen grey to a fiery red glow. The coal crackled and shared its burning heat with the metal that in a few moments would turn Buttercup forever and irreversibly into Grall’s ponygirl. She might already be on paper, but this was more personal, more real — more important. Buttercup lay down on the table, trembling, feeling the first splinters digging under her skin; but compared to what was about to happen, it was unimportant and almost enjoyable. “How much longer?” “In a minute, just a minute more,” said Oozol, moving to her side. “We have to put your horse bit back in or you’ll bite your tongue. You may think you’re strong, but this pain will overwhelm you.” He pressed the horse bit into her open mouth and stroked her cheek sympathetically. “Don’t be afraid, we’ll take good care of you. Just one more little thing.” He snapped his fingers and Pexo brought him Buttercup’s ponytail. She shivered at the sight, even though she was used to it by now, it remained strange to have it inserted in front of so many spectators, but she offered no resistance as Oozol pushed it into her ass. The welcome feeling of fullness returned and Buttercup neighed softly. Although Buttercup had voluntarily laid down on the table, she was growing tense. Everyone could see her trembling and her hands twitching under the saddling. Lisande and Sunshine also noticed and ran to the table, where they lay down on the table opposite Buttercup and pressed their heads against her to her left and right. They both knew the pain, and Buttercup was grateful for the gesture. “Just one more thing. It’s a bit silly, but probably the only thing Pelkor had done right,” Grall said, but Buttercup didn’t understand. She was about to look at him, but then she felt a cold, round piece of metal between her legs. It was a coin, and Grall nonchalantly inserted it deep into Buttercup. His fingers lingered a little longer and more restlessly than necessary, but it was also a welcome change from the growing fear of the brand. She neighed, but Grall just smirked. “Something from your mum for your big day. You mustn’t move under any circumstances,” he said and Buttercup closed her eyes. She felt the rough wood beneath her, the warmth of the two ponygirls comforting her, heard the rapid breathing of everyone present as they waited anxiously for the big moment — and felt the burning heat of the brand as it approached her bottom. It took all her strength not to flinch, even though she knew how terrible the coming pain would be. Or rather, she thought she knew. The fire that kissed her bare bottom burned hotter than the surface of the sun itself. The terrible hiss as the iron touched her skin echoed throughout the yard, breaking the silence and causing all onlookers to inhale sharply. Even the experienced grooms and ponygirls, who had seen it all dozens of times before, didn’t say a word. Never before had a horse offered itself voluntarily without being secured, and nobody knew what would happen. They waited anxiously for Buttercup’s reaction. Many dozens of pairs of eyes were fixed on the table, the brand, and Buttercup as the iron dug deeper into her hide. At first, it only seared the hair, then it coloured the top layer of skin midnight black. The skin rippled and receded before the red-hot metal, which continued to eat into it under Grall’s focussed gaze and steady hand. “You’re doing very well. Keep still,” Grall praised and guided the brand further into Buttercup’s skin. It almost sank into the flesh like ice, melting under the heat. “It’s almost over, hold on a little longer!” Buttercup’s jaw pressed with all her strength against the horse’s teeth, whose wood cracked softly. Her whole head shook with exertion as she whimpered loudly. Only the proximity to Lisande and Sunshine, both of whom were also howling softly, gave her the strength not to jump up. For Buttercup, the whole world consisted only of the pain on her bottom — and a friendly face that she saw smiling down at her against the blackness of her closed eyes. At first, she thought it was her own face, but the woman was a little older and her posture was tighter and a little more refined. Her lips moved, but no sound came out, and yet Buttercup understood every word: “That’s a good girl. Keep still. Take good care of your goblin. I love you.” The coin inside Buttercup glowed at the words. The pain ended as quickly as it had come; the change took Buttercup from her thoughts and her mother vanished. Grall withdrew the brand and dropped it carelessly into the dirt. “Careful, or you’ll break the brand,” his father warned, but Grall waved it away. “I don’t need it any more. Buttercup will remain the only horse that carries my mark. She will always be with me — if anyone wants to see the mark, let them look at her bum.” Buttercup slowly dared to open her eyes again at the feeling of cold ointment on her rump. The two ponygirls at her side looked at her expectantly, and Buttercup gave them a pained smile. She turned her head over her shoulder and dared to have a quick look at the brand, but the ointment covered the scar completely. She would probably have to wait a little longer to see it for herself. But in the end it wasn’t for her anyway, it was just something that shouted her belonging to Grall to the world for the rest of her life. “Good horse,” praised Grall. “When it’s healed, we’ll fill the brand with colour, then it will be even easier to see. Every goblin and every human should know immediately that you are mine.” He seemed very pleased with the words, even if Buttercup only rolled her eyes. Still, she couldn’t deny to herself that this idea also gave her a deep sense of comfort. “Just one more thing, then we’re done.” Buttercup neighed questioningly, but Grall — of course — didn’t take the horse bit out of her mouth. Why should he, she was his horse, and even as his best friend, the horse bit was in its rightful place. Grall waved Mexi over, who had been watching everything with wide eyes from a safe distance. At her side stood Albaea, who was shaking back and forth in complete disarray. Buttercup gave the agitated mare a grin that calmed her down a little. The goblin girl rummaged in her pocket and handed Grall two golden rings, which Buttercup recognised immediately. Mexi asked the question that was also on the tip of Buttercup’s tongue: “Are you sure?” “Absolutely,” Grall replied without hesitation. “I wouldn’t sell her anyway. She’ll stay with me forever. So why shouldn’t we make it official then? Do you agree?” Izzy nodded, but Grall just grinned. “I already knew that, but your father should say something about this too.” Matheus stood on the sidelines, watching his daughter with a look that was difficult to interpret. “I’m probably a little late, but an old man is not a ponygirl. Anyway; I approve. Izzy wants it too, so I agree.” Grall shooed the two other ponygirls aside and stood directly in front of Buttercup, who barely dared to look him in the eye. He held the golden nose ring and waited until Buttercup stretched out a little towards him. “It’ll only hurt for a moment,” he said. The pain was a breeze compared to the brand, but it still felt strange to have something hanging on her face now. It was even more humiliating than the brand, because now everyone would recognise her status just by looking at her face. But Grall was overjoyed, while Mexi slipped the counterpart over his finger. “Now you are goblin and horse,” she quipped excitedly, and Buttercup smirked. Albaea was also beside herself with joy, racing wildly across the courtyard and jumping in the air, making Sunshine roll her eyes. “But don’t worry, I won’t stand in your way when it comes to stallions,” said Grall and winked, while Buttercup turned bright red and immediately looked at Titan, who had been watching everything closely from his stable and neighed contentedly. One more horse for his harem was certainly not unwelcome. The ring marked the end of Buttercup’s journey from a young woman born to a ponygirl to her own life with a horse bit in her mouth and a saddle on her back — to her own surprise, she was happy with it. She was Buttercup. Grall’s ponygirl. Now. And forever. Epilogue “Good morning, Buttercup,” called a little girl, waving cheerfully. “Where are you going?” Buttercup slowed down a little. Although it was already autumn, the still pleasant temperatures allowed her to spend a little time outside without freezing in place. “Grall sent me out to get a few things from the village shop,” she replied, pointing with a brief gesture of her head to her empty saddle. “Your owner let you wander around on your own?” “He trusts me,” Buttercup said with a certain pride in her voice; in the past she would have been terribly embarrassed by the question alone, but as a horse it no longer bothered her. Besides, the question was justified, after all it was quite unusual, most ponygirls weren’t allowed to go a single meter without a goblin. Grall, on the other hand, really did trust her, but nothing else was to be expected between good friends. “Besides, he knows I’ve had enough of the outside world for now.” She would have liked to wave back at the girl, but of course, her arms were still tied under the saddle. This was completely normal for Buttercup, she had last used her arms months ago, but as a ponygirl there was nothing they were needed for, apart from the fact that she sometimes liked to scratch herself. A small wind came up and drove her along the road a little faster. Unlike before, she no longer bothered to avoid the more crowded paths. Everyone had seen her as a horse by now anyway, and her belonging to Grall was well known. Shame was not a good quality for a ponygirl, she had realised by now, and many of the villagers had also become accustomed to her. If she was lucky, a few of the people along the way — goblins as well as humans — would give her a few treats as snacks. Grall often mocked that she would get fat from it, but that was unlikely with all her running; it was probably more of a small distraction from his own belly, which she had also contributed to with her service to him. As was so often the case when she was travelling alone on Grall’s behalf, she didn’t have to wear a horse bit, as there was no one in her saddle to steer her. However, her ponytail and hoof boots remained part of her outfit, which was rounded off by the colourful brand on her bottom. The scar was unmistakable, but the colour tattooed deep into the skin with fine needles made it look even more magnificent. There was no one far and wide who wouldn’t immediately recognise that Buttercup was Grall’s horse — his only one, as everyone knew. The tattoo was a little less painful than the brand, but it was still strange for her to have such a colourful mark on her rump for her whole life. But that was just the way it was for ponygirls. — As always, the village was a hive of activity. Autumn required great effort to get everything ready for winter. The farmers’ ponygirls in particular had a lot to do, and Buttercup was once again glad that her owner didn’t make such harsh demands on her; compared to a draught horse, her life was luxurious and relaxed. Nevertheless, a few of the people handed her treats and stroked her head. It was unmistakable that she was just an animal here in the village, but as strange as that had felt at first, Buttercup felt quite comfortable in the role now. Most humans and goblins were simply nicer to animals than to humans, even if the animals walked upright and some could even speak. However, Buttercup had also quickly learnt that most of them preferred their animals mute. Whenever she said something, people looked at her a little strangely, as if she had broken an unspoken rule, or unintentionally reminded them that ponygirls were women after all. Accordingly, she now preferred to keep quiet in the village, enjoying the treats and having her head scratched when people felt like it. Today, however, she had a job to do and it was important for her to prove her usefulness. The village shop was right in the centre of the main square, and so she headed there, with only the absolutely necessary detours to a couple of old ladies with the best and tastiest little treats. Once these had been properly devoured, she stopped in front of the shop and kicked a small bell on the horse post that had been placed there just for her. She had no other choice, as she knew the sign on the shop door well: “No access for animals of any kind — including ponygirls!” In the past, she had only smiled at the sign when she had done some shopping for her father, but now it applied to her and the shop was taboo for her, as were most other shops and pubs. Ponygirls had to wait outside or in the stables, even those who were once regular customers. “Isabel!” shouted Mr Sigismer, who was actually the watchmaker in the village. But he also ran the village shop as a side business — or actually, it was the other way around, a village needed much more general merchandise than watches, but his pride probably demanded that he saw himself as a watchmaker. He slapped his stomach in satisfaction. ‘The order is already completed. “Buttercup,” she corrected him, knowing full well that he was only having a bit of fun with her. “Of course, a good name for such a splendid mare. I’m just surprised you haven’t got a round belly yet.” He climbed down the small staircase with two pouches and pricked Buttercup’s belly with his little finger. Buttercup jumped back in surprise and suddenly turned red. “Don’t worry, he’ll find a good stallion for you.” “We have Titan on the farm,” Buttercup said, before realising that wasn’t a good answer. “Then I hope you have fun with him.” Now Buttercup’s ears were also glowing the finest shade of red. “Are these the things for Grall?” she quickly diverted before she sank completely into the ground. “Right, both bags are for him. Don’t give the little bag to anyone else, do you understand? It’s only for your owner.” With that, he reached to her bosom and unfastened the small pouch dangling between her breasts, where Grall had put the money for the purchase. The man’s fingers brushed her skin, and Buttercup knew damn well that it wasn’t an accident, and that Grall had put the pouch there for that very purpose. A few months ago she would have smacked the man for it, but now not only were her hands tied behind her back, she actually didn’t mind. It was one of the perks of being a ponygirl that touch had an entirely different meaning. His fingers were rough and pleasant, and she couldn’t resist pressing against them a little. “You really need a stallion. I need to talk to your owner about this.” He patted her on the bum and sent her off again. “Thanks,” Buttercup said, and she wasn’t sure herself whether that was for the shopping or for the pat. — The way back was uneventful but pleasant. Few ponygirls enjoyed the same freedom as she did, but they weren’t volunteers either, after all, though that made no difference to her by now. There was no doubt that she was legally the property of Grall, and she would be returned if she ran away. It wasn’t the life she had imagined as a little girl, but it certainly had its perks. She had often worried about her future, but now she had no worries at all. Grall would deal with such problems, she only had to serve him as a mount and was otherwise allowed to ignore all the little miseries of the world. It was liberating and quite enjoyable. She continued along the path and passed the large horse paddock where her friends were already playing together. Although they were all — including Buttercup — actually too old for it, it seemed quite normal for ponygirls to play catch like little girls again, and to have fun for hours in the most ridiculous way in the paddock. Even Sunshine and Lisande, who were still rather grumpily accepting their existence as ponygirls, were completely unfettered and carefree in this respect. Buttercup called out to them and all three — Sunshine, Lisande and Albaea — came running to greet her, Albaea in particular almost tripping over the fence with joy. The other ponygirls weren’t wearing saddles, but as usual, their hands were tied behind their backs and they had horse bits in their mouths, which made conversation a little difficult. But Buttercup had learnt well by now how to carry on a conversation with just a look. “Just a little shopping for Grall,” Buttercup explained in response to Sunshine’s questioning look, who rolled her eyes in return. Buttercup knew the mare’s opinion that if they were going to be used as animals, the goblins should at least be there. But maybe it was just because she liked spending time with Saxea — as evidenced by the nose ring. It had only taken a few weeks after Buttercup’s brand for Sunshine to get down on one knee for her goblin. Now she wore two brands: Oozol’s farm’s, and Saxeas personal one. Buttercup was still surprised that Sunshine had given herself up for this, but sometimes things were more complicated than they looked at first. The path led along the fence to Oozol’s farm, and so all four of them arrived at the gate together. “You’re back quickly,” called Pexo and welcomed Buttercup. “No distance is too great for a fast horse,” she praised herself, and Pexo shrugged briefly. Like most goblins, he still had a hard time with a talking horse, but Grall had insisted that she be allowed to — as the only one. At first, the other grooms had objected, but by now Grall was officially co-owner of the farm, and therefore their superior, so it was accepted with a grumble. At least by the grooms who had stayed; Gribat and a few others couldn’t and wouldn’t accept that the harsh whipping of horses was forbidden. “Where’s Grall?” “He’ll be here soon. Wait, I’ll take the groceries off your saddle.” “But not the little bag!” she said sharply. “That’s only for Grall.” Pexo flinched briefly. “If that’s what you want. Who am I to disagree with the owner’s mare.” He threw his arms up in the air dramatically, then slapped Buttercup’s bum with vigour before she could dodge. It was a game between the two of them, and this time she hadn’t seen it coming. She stuck her tongue out at him, but before she could answer, Grall came walking up with Mexi, Saxea and his father. “Just at the right time. Pexo, take the big bag, then saddle the other horses. We want to go for a little ride.” “What’s in…,” Buttercup began and leant forward, but Grall just put a finger over her mouth and silenced her. “You’ll find out soon enough.” She opened her mouth for another question, but Grall just stuck the horse bit in her mouth and brought her to her knees with a “Tack!” She grumbled slightly, but stopped immediately when he gave her a light tap with the whip. It wasn’t a nasty gesture, just a rider’s reminder to his horse that it had to behave. Before Grall could mount, Mexi ran past him and jumped into Buttercup’s saddle. “It’s my turn today!” she squealed and gave Buttercup a little kick to get her up. Grall just managed to grab the bag. Buttercup neighed confused, but Mexi seemed determined. “It’s about time Albaea got another rider. Come on, you get used to it.” With that, she steered Izzy with a light hand to her mare and scratched her head. “Grall is clumsy, but you’ll survive.” Albaea puffed discontentedly, but then she got down on her knees for Grall, who hurriedly climbed into her saddle. Buttercup’s stomach tightened. She didn’t particularly like it when Grall rode another horse — jealousy was probably the right name for it — but at least in this case it was a good friend. Saxea climbed into Sunshine’s saddle and Oozol also went to his horse. He kissed Lisande on the forehead and then climbed into her saddle. The mare was the only one of the friends not yet wearing a nose ring, and Oozol had made it clear that he would not force the issue, but it was an open secret how much he loved his horse. Although Oozol generally had a rather practical and matter-of-fact view of the ponygirls, Lisande had some special liberties with him, which the mare occasionally took advantage of. — The ride was gentle and rather slow, even though Mexi was still an unusual rider for Buttercup. The goblin girl was a lot gentler than Grall, and also a little lighter. What’s more, she had never received so many cuddles on a single ride before; something Buttercup could certainly get used to. Albaea, on the other hand, kept looking longingly over at Mexi, much to Grall’s annoyance. Apart from that, the four horses enjoyed the slow walk and listened to the goblins sitting on top of their saddles while their horses did the work. Everything was as it should be, it seemed; one of the last opportunities of the year to go out together before the weather turned. The trees had already lost many of their leaves and the birds had become quieter, but here and now the eight of them were happy, especially with each other. The four ponygirls let their eyes wander as they followed their reins purely on instinct, but then Buttercup stopped abruptly. “What’s wrong?” Mexi asked without even reaching for the whip. “You have to keep going.” But Grall was a little more receptive to his mare’s mood, he followed her gaze and he too snorted in surprise. On the path ahead of them, a ponygirl came running up, pulling a heavy cart. They all recognised her immediately, or rather, the girl she had once been. “Grunhilda,” he marvelled aloud, and Buttercup nodded in agreement; it was the mean girl from Buttercup’s old school. She was naked like all ponygirls, had a registration number on her somewhat small boob and a huge ponytail in her butt. There was also a particularly large and nasty brand on her rump. Various rings all over her body labelled her as a farm animal for field work and, as Buttercup had to admit, she had become visibly stronger in the meantime. But none of this explained why she was a ponygirl in the first place. Buttercup looked to Oozol, who most likely knew the answer. “So she’s arrived,” the old goblin said thoughtfully. “The second girl from our village to become a ponygirl.” Buttercup neighed. Had Grunhilda become an animal voluntarily? No, that was unthinkable. She had heard about the girl’s disappearance, but what had happened? “Come on, let’s ride on. I’ll explain later.” The four ponygirls rode close to Grunhilda and their riders greeted the coachman. He saluted back briefly and gave his horse a swat on the bum with a nasty whip to make her run faster. As Buttercup realised, this was probably a frequent occurrence; Grunhilda’s bottom was already covered in welts. Their eyes met, and Buttercup immediately lost all sympathy. Even as a horse, Grunhilda was still unbearable. She lifted her nose high into the air — as far as the reins would allow — and pretended that even now, she was still better than Buttercup. How silly, and unbefitting for a horse, Buttercup thought, but she left it at that. They were both animals of the goblins, controlled by their masters with reins — now and for all time to come. Their bottoms learned the language of the whip and their arms were only useful for stabilising saddles; whatever Grunhilda thought of Buttercup, it was completely meaningless. The goblins steered their horses a little further, and even through one of the neighbouring villages, where the rest of the story about Grunhilda slowly unravelled. A small gathering of humans and goblins had gathered in the main square. As Buttercup quickly realised, there was a good reason for all the curiosity: A tall human stood in the centre, a middle-aged man in fine clothes, holding a short leash that ended at the collar of a goblin. This time, even the goblins were shocked; such a thing was completely unusual, and yet it was not the only reason for their surprise: they knew the goblin. It was Kreks! “Sit!” the man ordered and Kreks sat down with his bare bottom on the stone floor. “Give paw!” Kreks obeyed again, although it was visibly difficult for him not to bite the man’s hand. “That’s outrageous,” hissed one of the goblins in the crowd. “Why, you have women for horses, and as it turns out, you goblins make good pets, am I right, Fluffy?” “Yes, master,” grumbled Kreks, or Fluffy, as Buttercup now knew. There was a tail in his butt too, although in this case it was for dogs. The man hit him over the ears with a rolled-up newspaper. “Dogs don’t talk!” Fluffy barked apologetically. “Come on,” said Oozol and steered Lisande past the spectacle. Once they were out of the village, he declared: “So it’s true. After Buttercup had become unattainable for Kreks, he wanted to make another girl his ponygirl. Grunhilda was probably a random victim, the horse catchers from the east paid by Kreks were not picky. But as you know, it is forbidden to catch a girl here. Of course, goblins everywhere catch girls as ponygirls…” Lisande and Sunshine snorted discontentedly. “… but it’s just not allowed to catch girls from your neighbourhood. Kreks thought he could get around that rule with strangers, but that was a mistake.” “Then why is the girl still a ponygirl?” Mexi asked in amazement, partly because she must have read this question in her mount’s eyes. “The horse catchers weren’t guilty of anything, their actions were legal, but Kreks shouldn’t have hired them to catch a local girl. Then he must have tried to bribe a judge. Let’s put it this way: as you could see, it wasn’t a good idea. Although I don’t like that goblins are treated like that.” Now it was Buttercup’s turn to snort angrily, she didn’t like the goblins’ arrogance on this point, as if they were something better. Oozol ignored it. “Be that as it may, Grunhilda was bought back by her family before they understood that she must remain a horse. It seems they’re trying to make up for the loss with labour. I’m sure some farmers could make good use of a loan horse.” Buttercup chuckled softly. So there was justice in the world after all. She looked briefly at Grall and could well imagine him on all fours. The young goblin noticed her gaze and shook his head vigorously, but Buttercup was sure that she would make him do it one day. His ears drooped sleepily, a clear sign that he feared this too. — Mexi gently steered Buttercup to the lake, but none of the goblins dismounted. “It’s a nice place, but why are we here? You don’t do things like this for no reason!” She looked deep into her boyfriend’s eyes, who just smiled mischievously. “I can’t fool you,” Grall replied and steered Albaea right next to Buttercup. The two horses nudged each other’s noses affectionately, as was customary for them by now. Buttercup didn’t like to admit it, but Albaea was her favourite of the three. She was like a little sister, but the good kind, with whom you could share all your secrets and who never stabbed you in the back. Saxea and Oozol were getting visibly nervous in their saddles, as Buttercup suspected they knew what was going to happen, and she suspected it too by now. Only Mexi seemed to be completely unaware. Grall cleared his throat. “Under the stars of the night and the rays of the sun, on the ground of the earth and on the backs of horses…” he began and Mexi’s jaw dropped. As a goblin, she — of course — knew what these words meant. “…we shall always be united. I hereby ask you to become my wife.” He pulled a very finely crafted, wooden necklace from his pocket. While humans favoured metal for their rings, the goblins preferred a material that connected them more strongly with life and nature. Nevertheless, Buttercup recognised immediately that this necklace must have been expensive, surely the merchant had had to get it from far away. Mexi jumped around in the saddle and Buttercup could only grin. It was wonderful to see how happy the girl was. Grall was also visibly relieved. “What should I do?” Mexi asked, overwhelmed. “It’s customary for you to say yes if you want to.” “YES!” Mexi shouted and jumped into Grall’s saddle on Albaea, who had tears in her eyes but stood still for her owner while the two goblins kissed in her saddle. But not only Albaea had tears in her eyes, Oozol and Saxea were also crying slightly, and as Buttercup herself realised with some surprise, her cheeks were wet, too. She pressed herself against Albaea and the goblins gave their horses a few kisses. — The wedding was lavish and opulent. It wasn’t the first celebration of its kind Buttercup had seen among the goblins, but it was the first that lasted so many days. Oozol didn’t hold back, and neither did Mexi’s parents, so it was probably the biggest celebration the village had ever seen. Albaea and Buttercup, as Mexi and Grall’s horses, were of course deeply involved in the ceremonies, but Buttercup soon realised that it went a little further than she had suspected. Not only was it her job to pull the beautiful wedding carriage, she was also an important part of the wedding itself. When a goblin had a horse of their own, Buttercup learnt, it was customary to incorporate it into the ceremony as the couple saw fit. In this case, Grall and Mexi chose to have their wedding day tattooed directly on the horses’ still-free bosoms. Buttercup would have been only too happy to do without this, but as a horse, it was her duty to serve her owner. She held out bravely as the number was slowly inked under her skin. — After the wedding carriage had arrived back at the farm, Grall released the two mares, but had them saddled immediately. Buttercup nodded to him knowingly; they had discussed what was to follow days ago. It was customary to give something personal to a wedding couple, but as Buttercup owned nothing as an animal, she had had to think long and hard about what she could offer, after all she was also Grall’s best friend, and wanted to contribute something more than just pulling the carriage or being a memento with a date. That was all important too, but nothing she personally contributed of her own accord. She had briefly considered offering Mexi her other buttock for her brand, but Grall was against it. As much as he loved Mexi, Buttercup was his and his alone. When it came to Buttercup, Grall was still quite possessive, but by now she even liked it, it was good to know that there would always be someone who wanted her with him without ifs and buts. Someone who would even die for it if necessary. “You look stunning,” Grall cooed as he helped Mexi into the saddle. Her dress was impractical and large, but he had insisted. “Where are you taking me? You’re not up to anything naughty, are you?” she asked cheekily, but he just winked. “Lightning shall strike me if I’m well-behaved!” He gave Buttercup a little kick and she took off running. She could feel his nervousness and even some of his excitement — or arousal? — through the saddle. He had got married today and now Mexi was his wife. “I still can’t believe it. She really married me!” he whispered to Buttercup, as if he still couldn’t believe it wasn’t a dream. Of course, she couldn’t answer him with the horse bit in her mouth, but she didn’t need to. He gave her a little kick and a few lashes to get her up to speed, with Albaea close on her heels. The ride didn’t go far, their destination was only half an hour away, but that was also because both horses were very fast. Their ride ended in the middle of the forest, in a deep hollow that could not be seen from the outside. It was the perfect place for a goblin: close to nature and yet well protected. Albaea was tied to a tree at the top, but Buttercup descended into the pit with the pair. “What are we doing here?” Mexi asked, giggling, but above all she looked at Buttercup in wonder. “A little surprise. Buttercup couldn’t give us anything… except herself.” As agreed, Grall took the saddle from her, then Buttercup lay down on the soft, damp ground and got ready. There wasn’t really much for her to do, but it was still something very intimate. It wasn’t as if the two goblins had lived a life of abstinence — or cared whether their horses could see them. But this was different. Grall had already slipped out of his clothes and was sitting naked on Buttercup’s stomach. She could feel the heat of his lower body and didn’t have to look to know he was aroused. Mexi needed a little more time, but Grall waited patiently, visibly enjoying every centimetre of skin that slowly emerged. Finally, she lay down with Grall on top of Buttercup and they began an intimate session full of love and passion. Buttercup closed her eyes, but it was impossible to ignore what was happening on her stomach. She felt the rough skin of the two goblins on hers, the heat emanating from their bodies and the movements were unmistakable. The initial slow rhythm and Mexi’s moans made Buttercup’s ears burn, but the goblin girl once again proved to be a good choice by Grall. While Buttercup tried to lie as still as possible, one of Mexi’s toes slowly travelled between Buttercup’s legs, who immediately opened her eyes. A quick glance down was all it took to see Mexi’s wide grin as she shared her pleasure with Buttercup. “That’s really nice,” Mexi moaned. “We should do it like this more often.” She turned her head to the side, stretched and gave Buttercup a deep kiss while Grall was fully focussed on her. — The next few days brought some changes to the farm. Mexi had officially moved in, which meant that Albaea had also found her new home in one of the stables. Buttercup was only too pleased that Albaea spent the first few days with her in the stable. It was nice to have some company in the stable at night, also because Grall was now increasingly busy with Mexi. Only sometimes Albaea was taken to another stable because, as Buttercup quickly realised, the two goblins had taken a liking to her marriage bed. Albaea always seemed truly grateful not to be invited to these occasions; the mare was still visibly irritated from her wedding night. But something else had changed, too: Titan had been taken away. Buttercup looked after him with a broken heart as he climbed onto the carriage and left the farm for good. “It was about time,” explained Grall, who knew exactly what was going on inside his mare. “He wasn’t right for you. You deserve something even better. Besides, he’s sired too many foals already, we need fresh blood.” But Buttercup just snorted; she didn’t care, she liked him! She needed him! Now there were only other mares on the farm, and as much as she liked them, they didn’t help her in this regard. “Don’t look so sad, you’ll get mated eventually.” He chuckled and Buttercup blushed again. “Aren’t you going to say something about that?” She stared at him open-mouthed; of course, she had once again forgotten that she could and was allowed to speak. The horse bit had simply become second nature to her. “Mated…” she snorted, “thank you for your great sense of romance.” “Romance, with a stallion? You’ve been a ponygirl for a while now, where did you get such a stupid idea?” “Besides, who said I wanted that?” “Your eyes, and a few other parts of you. Now don’t tell me you have something against it.” “I’m not ready for a foal yet!” “That’s not a no,” he huffed, earning a nasty look from her. He held out his hand to her and she bowed her head. “You’re my best friend and I love you. Trust me, it’s almost time. It would be a shame not to let a mare as good as you mate.” “Stop saying it like that!” she hissed. Mating… how that sounded. Like an animal! Well, it was appropriate, but that was still no reason to say it like that. “It’s just the right word. You’ll get used to it.” With that, he gave her a very intense kiss. “What if I don’t like the stallion?” Grall laughed again. “You’re not supposed to marry him! All you have to do is put up with him for a few minutes. You can manage that, can’t you?” He winked and left her in the stable. “Have a little faith, I know exactly what you like.” — A few days later, the sun had not yet emerged from behind the Horizon, Pexo fetched Buttercup, still terribly tired, from her stable, but instead of saddling her up for the day as usual, he led her across the yard to Titan’s old stable. Her heart was pounding in her chest, even though she knew full well that the stable was empty. Still, the place smelled like a stallion, and that alone made her bottom burn. “You wait here until we need you,” he said, pushing her in backwards before slamming the door shut. As always, the stable was pitch black, and Buttercup remembered her first time with Titan — even though she was alone, she could still almost feel his presence; his size and the heat of his rough skin. She swallowed and shook the thought away. The straw was fresh and she found a comfortable spot to wait for Grall, who was surely planning another ride with her today. The darkness lulled her and she was back in dreamland before she could hear the cart outside. Even her dreams were those of a ponygirl; she ran across wide meadows with her arms linked, savouring the wind on her bare skin and whinnying to people, goblins, and horses whenever she whizzed past them. It was a beautiful dream that was interrupted by the slamming of the stable door. It took her a moment to get her senses halfway back in order, but even so she instinctively sensed that she was no longer alone in the stable. Whoever it was — and she knew it was male — was too big for a goblin. She straightened up carefully, but the new visitor remained at the door, she could feel it. She took a deep breath and swallowed; it was a stallion, there was no doubt about that. Titan? No, she just knew it wasn’t him. The smell was different, but still familiar. She whinnied softly once, and a deeper neigh was the answer. The top half of the stable door flew open and light flooded the stable. Grall looked in and grinned, but Buttercup’s eyes were fixed only on the stallion. Her heart stopped for a moment, then beat twice as fast, only to tighten a moment later. A thousand thoughts raced in her head, but her lips formed a name around the horse’s bit. Grall shook his head. “He doesn’t have that name any more. Please say hello to Thunder, our new stallion.” Bastian — now Thunder — stood indecisively in the corner, avoiding Buttercup’s gaze. “He’s still a bit shy. As far as I know, he hasn’t been with a mare yet. So it only seemed right for you to help him a little.” Buttercup walked around the stallion and her eyes blazed with countless questions. Her eyes kept darting to Bastian — Thunder — and Grall nodded knowingly. “Don’t you like him?” Buttercup neighed and blushed slightly. “Then it’s all good. He’s part of the farm now, I officially bought him. He was a bit expensive for being so slight, but nothing is too expensive for you. He’ll settle in just fine.” Again Buttercup looked Grall straight in the eye, both knowing he was avoiding the most important question. “It’s… complicated. It’s a crime to help a ponygirl to escape. We didn’t press charges, of course, but some crimes are still prosecuted. He was found guilty, but of course, that alone didn’t make him a stallion. You won’t believe it, but he then volunteered. You must have made quite an impression on him.” Thunder neighed and pranced awkwardly on the spot. His gaze kept jumping to Buttercup, and she could see between his legs that he liked the sight. But it wasn’t enough to really do anything with it yet; the stallion was visibly nervous and she couldn’t blame him. Grall took the horse bit out of her mouth and stroked her head. “You’ll probably need a free mouth, it looks like you’ll have to give him a bit of a boost. You’ll both certainly need a few days practice, I’ll leave you together in the stable for now.” “Don’t say it like that!” hissed Buttercup, who understood exactly what he meant. Grall just laughed and leaned on the door. “Wait, are you going to watch?” “Why the shyness? I have to make sure you two are compatible, don’t I?” Buttercup swallowed. That was just the way it was for a horse, she had understood that quite well by now, and yet there were always moments when her old life briefly reasserted itself in her head and asked a simple question: Is this really the right way? She took a deep breath and pushed the question aside. It certainly wasn’t right for a human, but she wasn’t human any more. She was Grall’s ponygirl, and she was happy with that. He was her best friend, but also her owner. As her boyfriend, he had brought her the man she had dreamed of for so long. But as her owner, he wanted to see her with a foal under her heart. Both were true and right at the same time. There was no contradiction. Besides, she knew full well that a simple “no” would get her out of the stable again. He wouldn’t force her; it was just an offer she couldn’t refuse. Thunder neighed uncertainly. She had almost forgotten him in her thoughts, and now she even felt a little sorry for him. He was good-looking, she had to admit, albeit differently than Titan, who was taller, more muscular, but also a little older. Compared to Titan’s weather-beaten, sharp-edged face, Thunder’s skin was soft and fine-pored, almost like that of a boy. But he was a man, his arousal left no doubt about that. And Buttercup knew what she — as a mare — had to do here. She had a role to play, and she was only too willing to do so. Her whole body trembled, her breasts rose and fell in a rapid rhythm that Thunder watched closely as if hypnotised; he hadn’t looked her in the eye for minutes, and she couldn’t blame him either. His eyes were burning with desire. With swaying hips, she walked to him and nudged him to make him look her in the eye. There was little left of the confident Bastian, here and now Buttercup was in charge. The smile on her face grew as she dropped to her knees in front of him; their gazes remained fixed on each other, and Thunder responded to every little action Buttercup made — a faint blow, her soft tongue, and of course, her whole, warm mouth. His taste and the texture of his hot skin coloured her cheeks a deep red. She had let herself become an animal for Grall, had become his — and even Mexi’s — bed and had shared some intimate moments with them; but this was different, more intense and even more pleasurable. She heard Thunders moan, felt him getting bigger and harder, his hips thrusting into her mouth. She really only wanted to get him in the mood, but she quickly learnt that a stallion in full arousal couldn’t stand a long foreplay. Before she could react, her mouth was filled with his salty-tasting love. His eyes were rolled up, and she didn’t dare pull back until he was finished. She was his mare, and he was the stallion, and just as she had to serve the goblins in one way, she had to serve him in a very different way. It took some time before Thunder was ready for a second round, but Buttercup gave him no choice. She was — one could say — like an animal that couldn’t wait any longer. She went to him again and again and tried to stimulate him, which finally succeeded. She saw the new lust in his eyes, while his intense flavour continued to wander over her tongue. There was a special fire in her gaze, too, as she got down on her knees for him again. But this time, she bent forward and offered herself to him completely. She remembered her experience with Titan, but here there was no chastity belt to protect her. Nothing stood between Thunder and her. He approached her with heavy steps and got down on the floor behind her. His legs pressed against her bottom, he leaned forward and snuggled up to her with his whole body. His hardness first travelled between her legs, as Titan had done, then he aimed again. Buttercup’s whole body trembled. She was ready. With one swift motion — which lacked any romance, but she was clearly ready for him — he penetrated her, and the whole court heard about it at the same moment, thanks to her loud moans. But she didn’t care, neither now nor during the many repetitions on the following days. The love of a horse was no secret. She was sure to be the envy of the other mares. She looked at Grall, who was still watching her. He leaned on the door and watched his best friend complete her journey to becoming a horse. An affectionate smile played around his mouth and he nodded in agreement before closing the stable door completely. The feeling of Thunder deep inside her body overwhelmed Buttercup, it was nothing like the goblins fingers or anything she had experienced before. His thrusts were fast and hard, but that didn’t bother her. Her whole head was spinning as her body was pressed against the floor. Thunder was young and inexperienced, but his passion easily made up for it. The only thing he needed to work on was his stamina. Faster than Buttercup would have liked, she heard his loud moans and felt him come inside her. A thousand thoughts raced through her head as they both struggled for breath. Perhaps this was the moment she had conceived her first foal. They both lay down in the fresh straw and Buttercup felt his sticky love between her legs and looked at him. How many days and nights had she dreamed of him, imagining what her children would look like. Now he was with her, and yet everything was different, but somehow everything was exactly as it should be. Although he was a big fool, he had given up his life for her. Was that so different from what she had done for Grall? Perhaps the reason was more primitive, but he was here now, and if Grall was right, it was only a matter of time before the first offspring would arrive. — “Why does it hurt so damn much?” Buttercup cried. She was lying in the straw of her stable with her mane sticking to her forehead. It had been almost 9 months since the wedding and the night with Thunder, and now it was time to start a new chapter in her life. And like her brand, it was a painful journey. Autumn had been followed by winter, which had been driven out by spring, which had made way for a new summer. But that day it was unusually cold, a frosty wind blew across the yard and blasted the straw from the large square. Nevertheless, the fireplace that warmed their stable — and all the other stables in a similar way — was not in use that day, as the temperatures were still too pleasant for that. In winter, however, the fireplace was fuelled from outside by the grooms, with a tight metal grille preventing the embers from setting the stable on fire. The fire provided a cosy warmth, and for the first time ever, the ponygirls were no longer freezing in their stables even in the deepest snow. Buttercup squirmed in her bed and moaned again. Grall had only promised her a little more straw, but the cheeky little goblin hadn’t told her that he was planning to weave real beds out of the straw, with a large pile of particularly soft straw in the centre. It was amazingly close to a real bed, and Buttercup was grateful for it at the moment. She lay on her soft blanket and cursed. “Push,” said Hersia. The old goblin lady had actually done it and hadn’t died yet out of sheer spite. The desire to really show the others in the village what she was made of was probably like a fountain of youth for the old goblin. She crouched between Buttercup’s legs and waited for her cue. “Try harder, an old woman doesn’t have forever! Keep on squeezing.” With skilful fingers, she removed the tax tag; a small price to pay for a safe delivery, Buttercup would simply receive a new one later. Grall held Buttercup’s head and stroked her cheek. “You’re doing fine, it’ll be over soon.” “Shut up, this is all your fault!” “You liked it,” Grall defended himself, offended. “Or why were you shaking your butt like that? Besides, how else were you supposed to get foals?” “You’re an asshole, Grall, you know that?” Buttercup howled and squeezed again. “Animal abuser!” He rolled his eyes and continued stroking her. “Take my mind off the pain, stupid!” “Do you remember how I rode you through the desert of Erebia? And then through the snow-covered valleys of Setos? I miss that time a bit, we galloped through the world alone for days on end. The things we saw…” “And then we travelled to the nearest village, where you slept in a soft bed while I was chained up in the stable next door. We saw the whole world, and I saw all the stables from here to Poschk.” Buttercup snorted. “Mexi should never have let you go so soon after the wedding.” Grall chuckled. “The people in Poschk had never seen a ponygirl before, and yet you ended up in the stables. You were instantly recognisable as an animal, even to those people.” “They put me with the cows. With the cows!” grumbled Buttercup, but she also had a faint smile on her face. “You didn’t even ask where the milk for your tea came from. And the next time we ride into the desert, you’d better bring enough water for both of us.” “Oh, come on. I’ve shared with you.” “Sharing means you do it before you drink it yourself…” Buttercup suddenly blushed, she still had his flavour on her tongue — she had never expected that she would actually do something like that. “Stop babbling, you’re even worse than your parents,” Hersia snapped. “But don’t worry, Buttercup, the birth is going well, I can already see the head. Push!” That was actually one of Buttercup’s biggest fears. Her mother had lost her life in childbirth; Hersia had been there then too, but the old goblin lady quickly made it clear that things would be different this time. It took a few more painful minutes before she held the little foal in her arms. It was still inconceivable to Buttercup that this child had been born directly into the life of a ponygirl — at least if it was a girl. The boys were often given to humans, only a few remained in the stables as stallions. You simply don’t need that many of them. Buttercup’s heart was still pounding from the birth, but also because that very question was in the air. “It’s a mare!” announced Hersia and Grall cheered. Buttercup wanted to reach for her child, but Hersia passed it to Grall — the owner — first. “I’ll call her Blossom,” said Grall, smiling at the little girl. “You’re naming her without asking me?” complained Buttercup. “That’s the tradition. She’s mine because you’re mine, and as her owner I have to give her a name. Besides, it’s a nice name. Unless you want me to name her Buttercup too, like her mother and grandmother.” Buttercup looked thoughtfully at the back of the stable and her mother’s ponygirl gear that hung there. That was the name that had started her ponygirl journey, and therein lay the problem; this child should be allowed to go her own way, but the name Buttercup would never allow that. “No, don’t do that. Now give me my daughter.” Grall carefully placed the child on her chest. The stable door flew open and the father came in — or rather, he was led in by Oozol. Thunder knelt next to Buttercup and looked at the child with wide eyes. Oozol crossed his arms. “It’s not usual for the stallion to have contact with the foal, but we’ll make an exception in this case. Thunder, say hello to… what’s her name?” “Blossom,” Buttercup said, grumbling softly, partly because she actually really liked the name; it suited a human and a ponygirl. Still, she didn’t want to give Grall the satisfaction of admitting that right away. “Say hello to Blossom.” Oozol himself looked lovingly at the child, and he gave Thunder the time he needed. Buttercup was still puzzled that Bastian of all people had allowed himself to be made a stallion, but by now she was fine with that. He was a good stallion, always ready and usually quite gentle. He was also very popular with the other ponygirls, and at that very moment there were a dozen or so ponygirls with round bellies standing in their stables. Buttercup wasn’t jealous, it was just part of the ponygirl life. Her journey had changed a lot in the village: while it had previously been unthinkable for a girl from the village to become a ponygirl, humans and goblins had now become accustomed to it. Another girl had followed her, apart from Grunhilda. Buttercup had often seen her pulling a plough while working in the fields and admired the many red welts on her bottom. Things had also changed at school. After Grunhilda had become a horse, Mrs Flinchel had hastily resigned from her job and moved out of the area. Buttercup had never asked Grall about it, but whenever the woman’s name was mentioned, something sparkled in his eyes. But there was one important difference between Buttercup and the other ponygirls who had stood pregnant in their stables, nervously listening to the birth of Blossom: Their foals would one day be sold so that the farm could exist, but Blossom — and all of Buttercup’s other children — would always be the property of Grall and his offspring; that was guaranteed by Buttercup’s nose ring, and the ring on Grall’s finger, but it was also a firm promise that Grall had made to her. This union and this promise were more sacred than marriage. As if in keeping with this thought, Mexi also came into the stable, holding her own child in her arms. Goblin pregnancies were similar in length to those of humans, and Buttercup guessed that she herself had been present at the conception as a bed. Accordingly, Mexi’s child was only a few days older — just like Grall and Buttercup’s back then. “You have a beautiful foal, Buttercup,” Mexi said with her typical affectionate manner, with which she had grown fond of Buttercup by now. It was amazing how much they could both love Grall without it leading to jealousy. She was a good girl, just right for Grall, Buttercup was sure of that; and she would defend Mexi with the same fervour as she would Grall. The child in her arms was a boy, and Buttercup knew what future awaited him: he would grow up with a ponygirl that he would one day ride. Just like his father and his ponygirl. A knock announced a new visitor. Matheus opened the door and knocked some sand off his shoulder. “The storm has got stronger, it’s even raining a bit, but I see you’ve quite cosy in here.” Oozol went outside the door, gathered some damp earth and trickled some of it onto the crying little child. “We hereby consecrate you in the name of the Nameless One, our god, for a life of service to the goblins, as has been handed down to us for centuries.” He looked at Matheus. “What follows is not really intended for humans, only the goblins and animals are usually included, but for you — as a grandfather — we make an exception. You’ve heard it before anyway.” He took a few thin sticks of incense out of a pocket and lit them. They each received one and stood in a circle around Buttercup and the foal. “Hidox Ari Brom Valariy! Gabby Blossom Eredum.” He gave the little one a kiss on the forehead and drew a horseshoe on its belly with some charcoal. “Valariy Rose Hidox.” The others repeated the “Hidox” five more times, then the short ritual was over. “Now our god will watch over the little child forever, as he did with Buttercup.” Buttercup remained silent, but something inside her tightened. She had chosen this life for herself, but this child had no choice. Would she have to suffer the goblins’ whip in the future just because her mother had chosen it for herself? Matheus gave his daughter a kiss on the cheek and took a small gift out of his pocket. “For my little grand foal. I thought it was going to be a girl. Your mother once told me that she comes from a breeding line where most of the children are girls. You must have inherited that too. Her genes are strong, I can see that clearly in your face. In fact, sometimes I don’t think you’ve got anything from me.” “Yes, your terrible sense of direction. But you should have kept it! Just look at the trouble it got me into…” Buttercup chuckled and returned the kiss. She took the gift and her face immediately darkened. “You’re giving her a horse bit?” “Practice makes perfect. A ponygirl can’t have a pacifier, can she?” Something inside Buttercup boiled, although none of this came as a surprise. “Thank your father,” Grall demanded sternly. “Thank you,” Buttercup said curtly. Grall was indeed still Buttercup’s best friend, even though he now used her as a horse as normal, but when it came to animal husbandry, they had established the usual division of roles between owner and horse. And often enough she was grateful for this, it was the only way this arrangement worked well; it gave her security and a set of rules that she could hold on to. But the old Izzy hadn’t completely disappeared, and it was here — sitting in the bloody straw — that some of it came back. “Why can’t she be human?” The question silenced everyone else. “The same nonsense as when you were born,” Hersia barked, crossing her arms. “Hasn’t anyone here learnt anything from that? Grall, bring her to her senses. Or forbid it altogether, you’re her owner! Oozol, say something!” But the old goblin preferred to avoid her gaze. After a moment’s thought, Grall took the little girl in his arms and looked at Thunder, who was still watching everything. “Do you want her to grow up as a human too?” The stallion, who had once been Bastian, nodded silently — that was all he could do with the horse bit. “Then so be it. Too bad, I thought my son would grow up with a ponygirl of his own.” “If she wants it, she can be one. But I want her to have a choice. It worked for me, didn’t it?” Grall grinned. “Fine. We’ll register her officially — I’m afraid we have to — and then she can grow up with her grandfather. If that’s what he wants.” Matheus took a deep breath. “I’ll probably have to get used to having a small child in the house again, but if that’s what my daughter wants, then that’s what we’ll do. What will we say when she asks for her mother?” “The truth,” Buttercup said immediately. “That was your big mistake. You shouldn’t have kept it from me. There’s no shame in being a ponygirl, and I had a right to know. Give her the choice, but don’t lie to her. She’ll know for herself what’s right for her.” “Can she have our son’s date of birth as her registration number?” Mexi asked cautiously. “Of course,” Buttercup replied. “It’s a family tradition.” She winked at Mexi. They all agreed. Mexi placed her son on Buttercup’s chest with Blossom. “Blossom, this is Zoxx. I hope you’ll be as good friends as your mum and dad.” To everyone’s amazement, the little girl immediately stopped screaming. Instead, she looked at the goblin boy with interest, squealed happily and immediately chewed on his ears. Zoxx seemed to enjoy this, laughing loudly and squeezing his new playmate awkwardly with his short arms. There was one last knock at the door for the evening, and Saxea came into the stable with Sunshine, Lisande and Albaea. Lisande and Albaea were quick to reach Buttercup, but Sunshine’s big belly didn’t allow her to move quite so quickly — Buttercup could still see the shame in her eyes whenever she looked at Thunder. The proud ponygirl, whose stubbornness had often driven the grooms to despair, was ultimately just a mare who couldn’t resist a handsome stallion. “Can we see the foal too?” asked Grall’s sister with unusual caution, and the three ponygirls also looked on curiously. Sunshine in particular studied the scene with curiosity, her own birth was not far off, but it was the amount of blood that took the colour out of her face. The ponygirls snuggled up to Buttercup and they all looked very content. The colourful group of goblins, humans and ponygirls spent many more hours together in the stable, while the storm outside rattled the trees. But all was quiet in the stable and nobody paid any attention to the wild weather. The world kept turning and everything was as it should be. THE END Bonus: The Christmas Ponygirl The first night as a ponygirl in the stables brought Izzy the craziest dreams. Most of them were so wild that it was almost impossible to describe them. But one of the dreams was different — more real, colder, more believable — as if it was a portal to another reality in which life followed its own laws… — A sharp wind blew through the cracks in the stable, making the small, warming fire in the fireplace dance around like a ballerina. The flames provided the only warmth in the small stable that Izzy had for herself. She lay curled up on the straw near the fireplace, blinking her eyes at the tinkling of some jingling bells. “Let me sleep a little longer, Papa!” she whispered, making herself a little smaller, but the feeling of the rough straw under her bottom silenced her. “What’s going on here?” she asked in a tired voice after she had cleared the sand from her eyes and recognized her surroundings. “Who builds a fireplace in a stable?” Not that she wasn’t grateful for it, the cold air made it obvious that it would have been bitterly cold without it. At least it was quite pleasant by the fire, even if there was no bed, pillow or blanket. “Hello? Is anyone there? Why am I here?” Her voice trembled, but it wasn’t because of the cold, but because she couldn’t for the life of her remember how she had got here. She had fallen into her bed at home after visiting Grall — her best friend, a scrawny goblin — and now woke up here in the stable. What nonsense was going on here? Was this the work of Grall, who was playing a joke on her? He knew only too well how little Izzy thought of ponygirls — and until now, he had been no different. But this was a stable, the fireplace left no doubt about that. But something else was strange: the evening had been a beautiful summer night, why was it suddenly so cold; no, almost frosty! Something was wrong, she knew it for sure. She pulled her legs up to her chest and froze. There was something else wrong too: she was stark naked! She held her hands in front of her chest in indignation and squeezed her legs together before she remembered that she was alone, and no one was watching her. That didn’t change the fact that she had turned as red as a tomato. A tomato sitting naked in a stable by a fireplace, waiting to see who was waiting for her at the door. Had she been kidnapped? Or had she run into the stable herself while drunk? But she didn’t have a hangover, and nothing about the night was special. She moved a little closer to the fireplace and pondered, and after a short while she heard the sound of small boots outside the stable. So it was the goblins after all! She jumped to her feet, held one hand in front of her crotch and one arm in front of her breasts, and the upper half of the stable door opened with a loud squeak — a goblin looked in at her. “Merry Christmas, Vixen,” chimed the goblin, who was wearing a silly green pointed cap and sucking on a candy cane. “Today is the big day, I hope you’ve had enough sleep!” “Let me out of here right now, you damn bastard!” Izzy hissed, but the goblin just laughed. “And don’t call me Vixen. My name is Izzy!” “Fiery as always. The master is getting ready, the other reindeer girls are almost ready too. You’re the last one. Are you causing me trouble, Vixen?” “Stop calling me that! You goblins can’t just kidnap a girl and put her in a stable!” Only then did she think about what he had said… Reindeer girls? Was that something new? She knew — and didn’t really like the idea — of pony girls, but what were reindeer girls? The goblin rolled his eyes. “That’s your name. Izzy? That’s not what you call an animal… Besides, I’m not a goblin, I’m an elf. You know that… Come on, we don’t have much time, the master will be furious if we don’t get away in time because of you!” He opened the stable with a quick movement, but Izzy was prepared. As soon as the door was open, she jumped over the goblin elf and ran off. The area in front of him was a semicircle of small stables, from which other young women stared at them in surprise. These monsters had already tied bridles around their heads and shoved large horse bits into their mouths. At this thought, Izzy lost all awareness of her surroundings for a moment, and so she noticed the cold under her feet too late. “What is that stuff?” she yelped as her feet lost their grip. She slipped over a thin layer of ice and landed hard on the ground. A few snowflakes melted on her head and Izzy stared up in wonder. “Is that… snow?” That was a huge surprise because there was no snow in her homeland — or rather, it was so rare that Izzy had never seen any despite being 18 years old. There were stories of terrible winter storms that buried all the houses, but for Izzy these were little more than fairy tales. But here, in this place where nothing seemed familiar to her, it snowed incessantly. The whole ground was covered in snow and ice, even the houses and windowsills rested under a thick blanket of white splendour. Only the flickering fireplaces in the stables offered some protection. Izzy turned awkwardly on the ice and looked back at the goblin who wanted to get her out of the stable. His heavy boots found better traction on the ice than her bare feet, and so he approached with firm little steps. Izzy tried to get up, but the goblin elf just reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a brightly painted glass ball, which he casually threw in Izzy’s direction. The ball flew through the air, whirring, until it hit the ground right in front of Izzy and burst into a thousand small crystals. For the blink of an eye, time stood still, then the goblin was already behind her, tying her arms behind her back and binding her legs with a short string before she knew. “Every year you give us the same trouble. You have slipped on this floor more times than is appropriate. Now calm down, the sleigh is waiting! And it really shouldn’t be… You know how impatient it gets when it has to stand around in the open. You would think that the spirit of Christmas is in it, but the old wood has become as grumpy as it’s rotten!” “Monster!” Izzy grumbled, thrashing around on the ice like a fish. “What is this supposed to be… Christmas?” “You must have hit your head really hard this time. Don’t worry. Luckily, you don’t need to be smart for your job.” That was the only explanation she got. Not that it would have made any difference, after all, she wouldn’t help those goblins even if she knew what this Christmas was all about. But still… what was going on here? Where was she, and how had they brought her here? And why her of all people? “Get up,” the goblin said, pulling out a small rod and hitting her bare bottom. The branch left small marks on her pale skin, and Izzy glared at him angrily. “What’s that supposed to mean!” But the goblin only struck again, albeit lightly. “Get up, or we’ll never finish!” he shouted, and the girls in the stables joined in. “Don’t make it harder for me than it has to be!” He struck twice more, and then Izzy stood on shaking legs. Her gaze burned warmer than the fires of hell, but the goblin didn’t seem to mind. While she stood freezing in the square, other goblin elves came and fetched the other girls from the stables. They all let themselves be led out with leashes without resistance. Apart from their bridles, they too were naked, like the day they were born. Well, not quite like the day they were born — the last 18 years of growth had changed them a lot, but their appearance hid nothing from the eyes of the goblins and other girls. “Kneel so I can put the bridle on you,” the goblin ordered, but Izzy shook her head vigorously. “Forget it, you definitely won’t do that!” But before she could say more, he pressed his candy cane into her breasts and Izzy immediately froze as if her muscles had frozen to ice. Only her eyes were still twitching nervously, but the rest of her was stiff as a board. The little goblin took the bridle out of a box and climbed her deftly, like a squirrel up a tree. He used every support he could find — her knees, hands, her breasts and finally even her nose for a moment, although he was actually high enough. The last one was probably just revenge for the trouble she caused, and Izzy was seething inside. Not that it was enough to thaw her out, but a little anger was all that kept her sane at the moment. He put the bridle around her head and quickly fastened it to the back of her head so that Izzy, with her arms tied, had no chance of freeing herself. It was a strange feeling, so foreign and yet strangely familiar, as if this wasn’t the first time she had had something like this happen to her. How could that be? What had she forgotten, how many days and experiences were missing from her memories? Was that even possible? While she was still wondering if there were weeks that had disappeared from her memory, the goblin held the horse bit to her mouth. Now Izzy was a little grateful for her stiffness because at least that way he couldn’t get that horrible thing between her teeth. But the goblin didn’t seem surprised, instead he put his candy cane to her chin and pressed against it. Immediately, Izzy felt that her mouth was free. “What…” was all she could say before the goblin took advantage of the opportunity and pushed the horse bit deep into her mouth, where it clicked into the bridle. Izzy snorted angrily, but he had won. “It’s slowly becoming routine with you. If you were good for at least a year… what does the master see in you? We could have any girl in the world, but he only wants you!” The goblin attached a leash to her bridle, then skilfully climbed off her, playfully slapping her round bottom, which wobbled around like pudding. Izzy blushed again with embarrassment, but she couldn’t do anything about it with his magic. He had control over her, she was helpless and completely at his mercy, and in a strange way this thought warmed her almost as much as the fire in the fireplace. “You’ll be able to move again soon, but you’ll give me more trouble, won’t you?” Izzy wiggled her eyes — that was all she could do. The goblin was small, but tricky, and obviously, he was always one step ahead of her. He reached for the candy cane and grinned slightly. “Removing the spell requires a different approach. But you’ve always liked this part.” There was something mischievous in his eyes. “Merry Christmas, Vixen!” He guided the warm candy cane between her legs and slowly entered her. Izzy’s eyes darted wildly as her body awoke from its rigidity and her muscles began to obey her mind again. It was a strange feeling, but her mind was completely focused on the goblin’s activities between her legs. The cane had almost disappeared completely inside her when he pulled it out and guided it all the way in again. “Can you feel your arms again yet?” Izzy hesitated, not sure if she really wanted to answer — what if he stopped then? A small box fell from one of the other goblin elves with a loud clatter, reminding Izzy that there were many eyes in the square, and she noticed that most were focused on her. She nodded quickly, and the goblin elf shoved the candy cane all the way into her, then snapped his fingers, and it was gone. “For the holiday spirit, if you know what I mean…” Izzy swallowed and nodded sheepishly. “Come on, it’s time we got you ready.” He fetched two large, heavy leather boots that reached up to her knees; nailed horseshoes under the heels made it clear that these were not normal boots. Izzy quickly slipped them on, and to her great surprise, the boots offered a wonderful grip even on the ice. “They’re magical,” said the goblin and winked. He led her to a small hut, in front of which the other girls were already waiting. Green fir branches were nailed to the roof, as well as a string of lights with small candles burning on them, their flames fighting against the wind that also swept between Izzy’s legs and tickled her. “First, you get your harness. That’s the most important thing besides the bridle!” He put a series of straps on her, tightening them with a firm grip. They were tight, but not too tight to dig into her skin. The straps pushed her breasts forward and ran along the inside of her thighs, offering no privacy where it should have been. “That already looks good. Now come the bells!” Izzy almost froze again as he attached two large — much too large! — bells to her nipples with two painful clamps. She grunted angrily; how humiliating that was… even the slightest movement made the bells roll over her breasts and jingle back and forth. The other girls were also equipped in this way and soon there was non-stop jingling and tinkling outside the hut. While Izzy found this horrible, the other girls made a great effort to shake their upper bodies with even the slightest movement. Izzy scolded as best she could through the bit, but nothing came out except a strange neigh. But to her horror, it didn’t end there. She looked around and noticed that all the other girls were bending over and sticking their butts out at the goblins. “It’s your turn,” said the goblin, patting her on the bottom, and Izzy leaned forward as if by itself. “Good vixen. So you do remember!” She felt something cold and large at her back gate, and a look at the other girls told her what was happening to her: These horrible goblins were sticking large plugs into the poor girls — and hers! — butts, to which short brown-white tails were attached. She felt the wood rushing in again, then there was a pop and the plug was safely inside her. She whimpered, but she couldn’t do anything about these strange goblin elves, who were jumping around in celebration as if something wonderful had just happened. For Izzy it was just a disgrace, especially because the plug felt unusually good… “Now the icing on the cake!” The goblin elves fetched a box full of antlers from the hut and attached them to the girls’ bridles with practiced movements. It was completely silly, inappropriate, and impertinent, but without her hands, Izzy couldn’t do anything about it. She shook her head in annoyance, but the antlers just hissed through the air and narrowly missed her goblin. “Watch out!” he scolded and hit Izzy hard on the bottom with the rod. “Here comes the master!” A strong wind came up and blew some snow into the girls’ eyes. They all blinked nervously and looked into the storm, from which a small figure in a red cloak emerged. It was a goblin — or elf? — with a red hat with a white pompom hanging from it. He also wore red trousers and black boots with gold straps. Izzy narrowed her eyes and snorted angrily. It was Grall! She scolded him again through her horse bit, but the goblin at her side just laughed. “Calm down, he’ll be right with you!” The other girls were excited too, although probably for a different reason than Izzy. She would have loved to just knock Grall, but her legs were still tied up. All of them had to wait until the little storm had died down and Grall was standing in front of them all. “Ho Ho Ho! It’s time to get the sleigh in the air!” he announced in a voice that was probably meant to be deep and growling, but in the end was just the usual squeak of a goblin. “The night is starting; we must get going.” The goblin elves led the girls, including Izzy, around the hut to a wide-open space that stood at the edge of a long road that seemed to lead into the darkness. On the road stood a large sleigh with a huge sack on top, from which a few well-wrapped presents were already sticking out. The girls were led to the front one by one and, much to Izzy’s shock, were harnessed to the sleigh. The girls giggled and enjoyed it, but Izzy’s blood froze when it was her turn. She was led past the sleigh and for the first time she noticed the large eyes staring out into the world on either side. “Vixen, oh you poor thing. The only one of you who can understand my suffering,” the sleigh growled like an old tree about to fall. Everything about it shook at the words, and some snow fell from the surrounding trees. “Just one night, they say. Just one night every year. But do they ask us if we even want that? No, they just decide. Who on earth wants to be a sleigh, even for just one night?” The sleigh continued to hum, and Izzy nodded sympathetically. Whatever was going on here, at least one person was normal — even if it was a talking sleigh with iron hooves that she was about to be harnessed to as a draft animal. She lined up next to the other girls, trembling, and felt the uncomfortable weight of the sleigh as the poles and ropes were attached to her harness, including the reins to her bit. Her legs were finally untied, but it was useless to secure them like that. The other girls were still in high spirits, ringing and giggling, while Izzy stood stiffly. These stupid cows, she thought, when will they finally stop? She felt a weight in the sleigh and turned her around as best she could — which of course was almost impossible when tied to the same sleigh. She felt a slight tug on her bit and knew that Grall had climbed into the driver’s seat. “Are you all ready?” he asked in a high voice, and the other girls responded with satisfied neighs, while Izzy just stomped her feet in annoyance. “What if we don’t want to go, Christmas Goblin?” asked the sleigh. “This is our night, and we will do what we all came here to do. Get ready! It’s Christmas, tonight we bring the presents to all the good children who deserve it.” Izzy snorted. Whatever Christmas was, she had never received a present like the one in the sack. Her father gave her everything she needed and gifted her something when he could. There was no special night for that. Wherever she was, it wasn’t her world. — Izzy waited nervously in front of the sleigh while there was a lot of activity around her. The goblins cleared everything around the sleigh and discussed a few final steps with Grall. All she saw was the night and darkness that disappeared into the distance of the road. It was a strange sight: the row of trees ended next to the sleigh, behind it the entire path was flat and seemed to end in nothing. But that was probably where their destination lay because behind them the road only led to a large workshop, where Izzy saw countless goblins with their silly hats running around through the windows. Grall raised his voice. “Get ready! Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen… and Vixen!” Izzy heard a hiss in the air, then the biting tongue of a whip hit her on the bottom! She yelped and pushed herself forward against the weight of the sleigh. The other girls — or reindeer girls, as the goblins had called them — followed suit, and the sleigh slowly began to move. The skids sprayed sparks across the hard ground until they finally hit enough snow to allow the sleigh to move forward more easily. “Where are we going with so many presents?” Izzy thought, continuing to push against the weight of the sleigh; even if not entirely voluntarily, the whip motivated her a lot, especially since she seemed to be the only one of the reindeer girls to feel its kiss. The sleigh glided down the road into nothingness and Izzy tried to see something in the distance and darkness, but to her great horror there was less there than she had hoped. Only a few meters in front of her, previously hidden by the snowstorm and the night, the road ended abruptly at a slope that went steeply down for hundreds of meters. Izzy pushed against the sleigh with all her might, but the other girls — how could they be so stupid? — kept running with all their might, dooming all of them! With a final loud howl, Izzy was pushed over the slope and felt the ground disappear beneath her feet. What followed was a deep fall into the night without even being able to see the ground. The other girls were now screaming too, even the sleigh had come back to life. “You have to fly, Vixen!” he shouted, setting off an avalanche. As Izzy now realized, the stables and the workshop were high up on a mountain, right on its peak; but now they were on their way to the valley, where they probably wouldn’t arrive alive. “Stupid thing, you don’t have to hate Christmas so much that you’d kill us all!” The whip whistled through the darkness again and hit Izzy. “Vixen, you can do it,” Grall shouted. “You’ve flown many times before. This night is no different. Believe in yourself and run!” Izzy had almost forgotten how to breathe in fear, but the whip woke her up again. In a panic, she kicked her legs in the air while the sleigh pushed her down. But something strange happened. The faster she kicked, the harder it became. Sparks flew past her hooves, and it almost felt as if she was walking on something soft. She looked around — the other girls did the same — their hooves also sprayed sparks. They were only a few meters from the ground when the sleigh raised up and Izzy felt the treetops beneath her hooves for just a moment before they soared into the sky again. “Christmas Goblin, you stupid idiot, why do we have to play this game every year?” growled the sleigh angrily. “Because that’s the only way to awaken the Christmas spirit in my animals. It would be boring if they just flew away, wouldn’t it?” The sleigh shook angrily. “Remind me that one day I’ll run you over when you’re not careful.” Izzy couldn’t help but nod in agreement. — High above the treetops and the mountain peaks, the sleigh sped through the cool night beneath the clouds, but to Izzy’s surprise, she wasn’t cold. But plenty of strange things had happened that evening, maybe this was just part of it? Was it magic, or was she so numb that she no longer noticed it? Grall steered the sleigh through the night with the reins and the whip, while Izzy still looked down with her heart pounding. How could she fly? And with a whole sleigh? The wind blew over her body and caressed her between her legs. But was it even important, how it was possible? “The first hut is down there, we’re landing!” Grall shouted excitedly as they circled above a small hut in a forest, far from any civilization. The sleigh began to dive, and Izzy screamed in fear while Grall, the other girls and even the sleigh just cheered loudly. Just before the ground, Grall pulled the sleigh up and the girls’ hooves and the runners glided elegantly over the snow. Izzy and the others dug into the ground and got the sleigh to a stop in front of the hut just in time before it smashed into a big tree behind it. Nearly passed out, while the other girls just neighed excitedly. Grall jumped elegantly from the sleigh with two small gifts and scurried to the hut, where there was no light. He climbed the house and jumped — small as he was — into the chimney. Izzy raised an eyebrow. What was that about, she thought, after all there was a door. But Grall came out of the chimney a short time later, and to her great surprise he was as clean as before, although chimneys usually had a habit of being full of soot and dirt. The little goblin hopped into the sleigh and gave Izzy another whip, only for them all to rise into the sky again a short time later. They repeated this many times during the night. They landed on lakes, on the open road — strangely enough never to be seen — on roofs and once even on a ship in the middle of the sea. None of this should have been possible, but what did that mean when you had a flying sleigh, Izzy thought, and noticed that the night was also longer than usual. They had probably been on the road for twelve hours, but there was still no light at the horizon. — After what felt like days of travelling at night – without the need for sleep, food or drink – the previously large sack lay flat in the sleigh. “Just one last present and then we’re done. It’s a farewell, but it must be done” announced Grall, and the sleigh just creaked. Their destination lay alone in a valley, surrounded by tall trees, mountains, and rivers that ate their way through the old rock. The sleigh rushed through the cold air towards the ground once more with momentum and came to a stop in front of a small house that had seen better days. Apart from that, there was only a nearby young tree and an abandoned stable in which no animal had lived for a long time. Grall took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do what needs to be done.” He took a large red ribbon and walked to the front of the sleigh. “Come, Vixen. You have a special role to play tonight. Are you ready?” The days before the sleigh had put Izzy in a good mood. The many presents, the trips through the sky and the closeness to the other girls had ignited a warmth in her belly that still burned inside her. She nodded and let Grall untie her from the sleigh. He went ahead and she followed him without hesitation. What else could she do? She had no idea where she was and without him there was no way she could go back — neither to the mountain with the stables nor to her own life, wherever that was. He took a pair of reins and attached them to her horse’s bit, then tied them to the small tree and placed the large bow on her chest. “Merry Christmas, I hope you’re doing well,” the Christmas goblin said kindly, gave her a kiss and left her alone in the night. The sleigh drove across the snow, made a small turn, and then sped off – under the tinkling of many bells — across the sky while Izzy watched in amazement. A final “Ho Ho Ho” echoed through the night, and then Izzy was alone. As soon as the sleigh was gone, she felt the cold again. She shivered and looked at the hut, but as soon as the “Ho” had stopped, the sun slowly rose on the horizon, as if it had only been waiting for this strange sleigh to finally disappear from her sight. Izzy blinked nervously and neighed excitedly, which was probably heard in the hut. The lights came on and the door flew open. A small goblin girl stood there in a nightgown and with tired eyes, staring at her. Her eyes grew, then the little thing squeaked and ran through the cold snow to Izzy without thinking. “Mum, Dad, the Christmas Goblin gifted me a horse!” “But no, my angel, that…” said the father, but he stopped when he saw Izzy. “He really did it! He gave you one of his ponygirls.” The little girl jumped excitedly around Izzy, who smiled kindly down at the girl. She got down on her knees and the goblin girl hugged her. “You’re Vixen, am I right?” the girl asked out of the blue, and Izzy nodded. Why not, what was there to lose? “We’re going to have so much fun. I’m going to ride you everywhere. And you can pull our cart and live in the stable. I love you, Vixen!” Izzy wasn’t sure if it was really such a wonderful idea, but tied to a tree, she didn’t have much to say about it. With a final “Ho ho ho” from far away, Izzy followed the girl into the stable. — Dreams are strange things. Many are pure nonsense, but some are so real, as if we see a strange world — a life that was never lived, but with the right magic, might have been possible. — Merry Christmas, everyone! Bonus: The bareback ride The first night after a long time as a ponygirl can bring many strange dreams. Mostburst quickly like soap bubbles, but some are difficult to shake off; unusual thoughts in particular seek a way into the conscious mind when the doors to the subconscious are the widest open… — Just another normal summer’s day with Grall, Izzy thought as her eyes drifted shut. — Thecart rumbled along the old main road to the north, and the ponygirl visibly struggled whenever the wooden tires sank into the depths of one of the many potholes. But the driver was experienced and didn’t hold back with the whip, asIzzy realised to her dissatisfaction. Yet as a guest, she preferred to keep her mouth shut before she found herself in front of the cart herself. “Thankyou for giving us a lift,” Grall said for what must have been the hundredth time on this journey, but it really was worth a mention. Not only was this route little travelled, but it was unusual for anyone to offer a ride to wanderers at all — especially when it was a human and a goblin. It was a mixture that made humans and goblins alike uneasy, which was one of the reasons why Grall and Izzy had avoided taking a lift so far, even though they often had no choice anyway. “We don’t have to go far, we just want to go to Lake Schrupp.Is it as good as they say?” Izzy raised an eyebrow. Thecoachman, an ancient goblin — older than the war — nodded. He was friendly, but not much of a talker. “It is. A bit lonely. Few people. You’re not doing anything naughty, are you?” “No!”blurted Izzy, blushing instantly. “We’re just friends.” “Unusual.In every way. But not my business.” The old goblin nevertheless gave her aside long glance that made Izzy very uneasy. There was no disgust in it, rather it seemed to her that the goblin would have liked to swap places with Grall.But that only worsened it for her. “I’ll be back in three hours. I’ll give you a lift if you like.” Theyboth nodded and jumped off the cart, but before she could say thank you, the driver had already given his ponygirl the whip and the cart rattled away quickly. “Strangefellow,” said Grall, grinning. “He liked you. Must be one of “those” goblins. Izzypreferred not to comment on it, she already guessed what kind of goblin he was,and that was all she needed to know. Sure, she liked Grall, a lot, but not in that particular way. “You didn’t tell me about a lake,” Izzy grumbled, pointing at her dress. “Do you think I’m going into the water in this?” “Nonsense,we’re just going in the way we were made!” He grinned broadly and limped ahead.”You know how much we goblins like nature —“ ”—and how little nature likes you!” “Not important. But if I’m going for a swim, it’ll be like this!” They had just arrived at the water, and Grall threw his clothes behind a tree surprisingly quickly. Izzy hurriedly turned away and gulped. They had gone swimming naked together before, but they were both much younger then. Today it felt wrong to still do that, but Grall probably didn’t share those concerns; she only heard him jumping off a rock into the water, cheering. “Come in, it’s marvellous! Or are you going to stand there all day? What have you got to lose, it’s not likeI haven’t seen you naked.” Izzy bit her lower lip. He was right about that, of course; as his ponygirl she was almost always half-naked, and he had even washed her thoroughly. Their friendship had undoubtedly changed. She grabbed her dress by the hem and lifted it over her head. With a movement that was unusually elegant for her, she threw it onto the pile of Grall’s clothes; her underwear and shoes followed in quick succession. “You’re an idiot, Grall! Next time, you warn me! Besides, we don’t have any clothes with us.” “What’s the point, it’s lovely and warm, we’ll dry off quickly.” With cautious steps, Izzy ventured into the unfamiliar water, but Grall was right:it was really pleasant and extremely clean. She slipped in and rolled onto her back so that she could drift slowly and watch the clouds. — “What time is it?” Izzy asked, startled. They had been in the water for hours — their skin was wrinklier than an old cow’s bum — and the sun was already slowly setting behind the horizon. Grall surfaced with a small crab in his mouth. “What did you ask?” “What time it is.” Thegoblin widened his eyes. “Shit, I completely forgot the time too. If it’s getting dark, we must have been here for at least four hours. Quick, if we’re lucky, the cart was late too.” They both paddled hurriedly to the shore and trotted up the embankment, dripping. It wasn’t a long way to their stuff, but when Izzy went around the tree, she stopped dead in her tracks. Grall limped up and could tell from her posture that something was wrong. “Where are ourthings!” he shouted when he finally saw the problem. He dropped to the forest floor but found only his pants and a few scraps of his trousers, which wouldn’t be enough to put on. There was nothing left of Izzy’s clothes, not a shred was left behind. “It must have been an animal,” Izzy speculated. “But I thought they didn’t like goblins. Shouldn’t your scent have driven them away?” Grall shook his head. “It’s not our scent that bothers them. It’s us ourselves. It’s like an aura. However, I take it personally that the culprit left my undies there… I just washed myself this morning!” They lifted every leaf and branch, but to their great misfortune, the clothes had disappeared. And without the sun it was getting noticeably cooler, although they were both still a little wet and could have done with some warmth. Grall slipped into his pants and stood with his legs apart in front of Izzy. “What are we going to do now?” “Why are you asking me that? This is your fault because you didn’t tell me where we were going! Now I have to freeze naked in the woods while the fine gentleman stands here in his undies.” Hegrimaced. “As a ponygirl, you’re used to being half-naked. It’s much more unusual for me.” His whole body trembled slightly. “Half-naked!But not completely naked! Anyway, we have to get to the road.” “Noway!” said Grall and crossed his arms, rubbing his upper arms with his hands to warm himself a little. “We can’t let anyone see us like this. That would be too embarrassing! Besides, the cart driver won’t give us a lift like this.” “Maybehe’ll take me with him anyway,” Izzy sniggered, but also growled. “Come on,let’s hide at the side of the road and wait.” Gralltook Izzy by the hand and led her through the darkness of the forest until they were right next to the road. They looked up and down, but there was nothing to be seen, nor did they hear the usual loud rattling of the wheels of a cart or carriage that announced the vehicle for kilometres. “Crap! We’re too late.Nobody drives through the dark at this time of night. It’s far too dangerous.But it’s way too far to walk.” “If you think I’m carrying you, then…” Izzy warned. “My arms have been hurting me for days.” Herfriend grinned slightly. “Then it’s a good thing you hadn’t needed them.” The light slap afterwards didn’t change his grin, but luckily for Grall, she couldn’t see it in the darkness. “All joking aside, we need to do something, or we’ll freeze to death out here. Can I ride you?” Thisquestion caught Izzy off guard and made her stumble a little. “How is that supposed to work? We don’t have a saddle with us!” She was happy about that; it was only meant to be a trip with friends, but why had the subject of riding come up again? Was it following her everywhere? Was it no longer possible to be anywhere with Grall without her becoming his little horse? She was good at it,she knew that, but that didn’t mean it always had to happen everywhere! “If you let me, I’ll ride you bareback. It’s possible, my father told me about it.It’s not very popular because most goblins don’t trust their horses, but of course, it’s different with you.” Izzy grumbled, but continued to listen. “The ones that like it do it a lot, though. It’s probably not bad for the horse, but you have to know the right technique. I didn’t know it before, either,otherwise I would have suggested it to you instead of the saddle.” “Youdon’t have any other ideas?” Izzy asked uncertainly. “Fine, but I’m not your horse! It’s like at the very beginning, I’m just giving you a lift. You’re like a stupid backpack that I’ll throw into the nearest pond when it gets on my nerves!” “Gotit — no ponygirl!” he said, nodding in the darkness. “Tack!” The sharp slap was well deserved, they mutually agreed later, and still, he whimpered. “Alright,sorry, that was just out of habit! Thanks for sitting down.” Izzycould dimly see Grall rubbing his cheek as she stared at him angrily in the darkness. “I told you I’m not your ponygirl. Watch out, greenling, or I’ll leave you here! Friends or not, I can walk home, but you can’t! So much for anice trip…” “Youhave to cross your arms behind your back,” Grall explained, slightly offended,and corrected her position. “Leave a little more space between your upper arms and your side so that I can put my legs between them. Exactly, that should work.” It was an unusual position for Izzy. Normally, her arms were bent slightly differently, and as a ponygirl this had become second nature to her. But it was even stranger when Grall first climbed onto her calf and then sat on her arms.It was an entirely new experience, unlike anything she had ever had with him before. Holding him was intense and personal, but she had been in control, and the saddle and wooden frame acted as a natural barrier between them. When Grallsat on her arms, however, it felt quite unfamiliar. His still slightly wet skin pressed against hers; she felt his stomach against her back, could feel his heartbeat, heard his breathing surprisingly close to her ear — but most of all she felt his bum and his … him on her arm. She swallowed and tried to ignore the sensation, thankful that Grall was at least wearing pants, even if they felt dreadfully thin. What she would have given for thick woven trousers for him now. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Your heart’s racing, I can feel it.” “It’s just a bit strange, I’ll get used to it in a minute.” That’s what she said anyway, but at that moment Grall relaxed his legs, resting them against her breasts. “Hey, take those off!” Izzy hissed, but Grall didn’t. “What can I do, my leg hurts, I can’t stretch it out all the time. Don’t be like that, I’ve already washed your breasts. Why are you so touchy now?” “Oh,shut up!” She straightened up and tried to ignore his cold, wet feet on her breasts — which wasn’t easy — and took a deep breath. His weight on her arms wasn’t very comfortable, but it was better than having to carry him. At least her back could take some of the weight. Still, they were stuck together, which didn’t solve another problem… “Don’t wriggle around like that, I can barely keep my balance!” She had to make a sidestep to avoid falling over. He wasn’t sitting exactly in the centre and his bottom was sliding all over the place. “What are you doing?” “I’m sorry, but it’s harder than with a saddle, it supports better. We’ll have it in no time!” It wasn’t quite that quick — the first few steps were as difficult as on their very first ride, only this time Grall had to do more himself to keep them balanced. That was probably why some goblins liked it so much, Izzy thought,the connection between rider and horse was much more intense — almost intimate.But for the horse, for Izzy, it was above all more work, but that was never important to goblins anyway; to her annoyance, she wished for a saddle, and immediately cringed at the thought. Shetook the first steps in the dark, but it was not easy for Izzy not to stumble over invisible obstacles. Even more unpleasant, however, was another problem that was digging into her back. “You’re a pig, Grall! You’re no better than that cart driver,” she hissed, wishing for nothing more than a saddle between her and him. “It’s not my fault, it’s the friction. Do you think I enjoy it? I’m cold and miserable, but nature intended it that way. It’s got nothing to do with you!” Izzy rolled her eyes, but the whiny tone in his voice had won her over. No one could do that and then sound so pathetic about it, unless it was unintentional.Nevertheless, she liked the situation even less now. As a good girl, she had tended to stay away from men so far, so it was all the worse that this firstexperience was like this and with Grall of all people. “Besides,you’re no better,” Grall said. “What?” “Yournipples are hard, they poke me in the feet!” Grall probably didn’t realise how dangerous those words were, but luckily for him,Izzy took it with humour instead of throwing him into the nearest hedge when it briefly crossed her mind. “Then I suggest you keep his feet away from there,”she said in the sweetest tone, but he probably hadn’t missed the slight threatin her voice because from then on, he tried a little harder not to touch her there. “Careful,there’s a tree,” warned the goblin. “And there’s a branch. Crap, you’ve hit it.But to your right at eye level… yeah, that one… but…” “It doesn’t work that way. I can’t see enough!” Grall grumbled. “That’s why I usually steer you. Let’s try something.” Izzy keptwalking and Grall tugged her hair lightly, but immediately Izzy hissed. “Fine,let’s do this differently then.” At the next obstacle, he tapped her on the shoulder to make her swerve, but it wasn’t precise enough. A horse bit allowed him to control the intensity and duration of the steering, but it wasn’t possible with just a tap. After an unpleasant stumble over a branch, this plan was also off the table. Once again blessed with more courage than sense, he kicked her right breast with his bare foot as a control, but it was a mistake. Immediately,Izzy let go of her arms and dropped a screaming Grall to the forest floor. Sheturned with the speed of a cougar and grabbed him by the neck. “What didn’t you understand about my warning?” Hestared at her with wide eyes and felt her powerful hands. She would only have to squeeze, and his little life would be over here in the dark forest. That was the risk of any goblin — the humans were so much stronger, even the ponygirls they rode. But Izzy was his friend, and although he knew how to recognise her strength, he didn’t fear her. “You nearly tripped over a root,” he said,leading her over. The root had grown slightly above the forest floor and ifIzzy had got under it, she could easily have broken her leg in the fall. “Oh,”Izzy said after a brief moment. It wasn’t a very clever answer, but they both knew what was meant. “We won’t get anywhere like this, it’ll take too long.” “Ihave one more idea, but you’ll hate me for it.” Shegrumbled. “Getting to be a habit today. What are you thinking about?” Withoutfurther explanation, Grall searched the forest floor, which of course Izzy couldn’t see. She then heard him tearing up the remains of his trousers and making something. “Ta…I mean, please kneel, bend over and open your mouth.” “Grall,if you really expect me to —“ “No!”he squeaked. “This stallion is really messing with your head! It’s a horse bit,or rather a branch with a few strings on it.” He handed it to Izzy, who carefully felt it. The bark had been removed from the branch, but it was still not completely smooth, and the splinters would certainly not be pleasant in her mouth. But it was also true that both of them had good success riding with a horse bit — they knew how it worked, and it had got them out of many situations. She sighed unhappily, biting down on the wood and throwing the strings on her shoulder; then she put her arms behind her back again and let Grall mount. The little goblin seemed immediately in his element. As soon as Izzy stood up, he gave her a little kick — for his well-being, however, against Izzy’s side and not against her breasts — and immediately led her safely through the darkness. “You’re doing well!” he praised, and Izzy neighed. So ended a day as equal friends again as rider and ponygirl, only now he rode her bareback. Always ready, it was true of a good horse. If it took nothing more than a stick and some rope to turn her from human to animal, her future looked bleak. Still,the emergency horse bit wasn’t very pleasant. Resin was coming off the branch,and it tasted horrible; plus, as expected, splinters were digging into her sensitive gums. As with the saddle, she almost longed for a practice horse bit,even with the metal pressing into her palate. But if this branch brought her home to her bed, then it was meant to be. Butbeing close to Grall had at least one good side effect: the warmth of their bodies together dispelled the cold of the night at least a little. — They made good progress with the new horse bit, especially as the large path was quite flat and comfortable for a horse, even if the animal was barefoot, which was not usual for ponygirls. Grall steered round the deepest holes and Izzy wasable to concentrate fully on her rhythm. After an hour, Grall estimated that they had covered half the distance, so Izzy’s warm bed was within reach.However, the two had become even closer on the track. They had developed a rhythm of their own, and Grall matched Izzy’s stride, leaning into bends and generally becoming almost one being: She was the body, he was the mind. Whichwas also because the sweating and exertion made them stick to each other.However, it was still a little more uncomfortable for Izzy, as Grall was at least wearing pants, but she was still completely naked. As a ponygirl, she would at least have the saddle covering her somewhat, even if it was less than Grall’s clothes. Here, however, she was as naked as an animal, while he wore a least the bare minimum of clothing to be considered civilised. — Theirjourney took another half an hour when Izzy heard a call from the darkness. “Who’s out there?” The call was accompanied by the pounding of hooves. “A rider and his horse on their way home,” Grall said, ignoring Izzy’s grumbling.They weren’t on the goblin side of the island, there was no need to call her that here. If he did, it was only because he meant it. The other goblin lit a small torch and now Izzy saw him too. There was nothing unusual about him, but he looked at her all the more surprised. “Without a saddle? I haven’t done that for a long time. I used to love it, but you have to have the right animal for it.” His ponygirl neighed, shaking her head, and it was immediately clear that she didn’t think she was that animal. “It’s all right, Pearl, I know your opinion on that. My name is Ederok.” “This here is Buttercup,” Grall said, again ignoring her grumbling, “and I’m Grall.” “Interesting, you don’t just introduce me to your horse, you name it first. You don’t hear that every day. But you ride her without a saddle and a bridle, so you have some kind of bond. How long have you been riding her like this?” “First time today, but it’s fantastic! It’s so exciting, I feel very close to her, I can even feel her heartbeat. I can feel her muscles under me with every movement and her breathing is like my own; I can also control her much more finely because I notice how she reacts earlier. It’s the best way to ride!” Ederok nodded. “You’re spot on. But unfortunately, it’s forbidden in many regions because the ponygirl isn’t secured enough. Still, there’s no harm in doing it from time to time. If the ponygirl allows it. Unlike other types of riding,here it’s an act of mutual trust!” Izzy was ashamed of these words, but they were true. She felt Grall very intensely on her back, and it wouldn’t work without trust. “If you like, I can show you a trick. You can link her arms a little, then the ponygirl doesn’t have to hold your weight with her hands. It’s not a restraint like under a saddle, but it makes her life easier. All you need is a travelling horse bit and this stuff, and you can ride her wherever and whenever you want.”He showed Grall how to tie her arms in, much to Izzy’s displeasure, but she had to admit that it really was easier that way. She was still able to get her arms out of it. He also gave them a travelling horse bit that didn’t need a bridle.It just stayed in their mouths as long as Izzy didn’t spit it out. All in all, it was still its own way of riding, but Izzy almost feared it. The lines between human and horse blurred even more, and it felt very dangerous,like she might lose her bearings for good. As she pondered this, Grall leant over to her. “This is wonderful, the best night of my life. Tomorrow we’ll ride out like this again, and then every day if nobody’s watching. But then I’ll be naked too!” — Izzy woke up in a cold sweat and stared out of the window. The dream disappeared from her mind as quickly as it had come, and before she had properly woken up,she could hardly remember what had happened. She only knew one thing: a good horse needed a saddle. Always. She preferred not to think about the alternative… — Dreams are strange things. Many are pure nonsense, but they allow us to play with reality in a way that is not possible outside of dreams. They allow us a taste of a life that may never exist, but was at least worth visiting once. Bonus: The Wannabe Pony “Wake up, lazybones,” grumbled the Horox as he opened Timothy’s stall. Age had left its deep marks on the wrinkled skin of the emerald-green goblin. The morning had long since dawned and the ponygirls were already running around in the paddock, enjoying the warm sunshine. Timothy had always been a late riser, partly because he had no job on the small farm. “Just one more hour, please,” Timothy begged, but Horox, as usual, was not so easily swayed. His heart may be big for Timothy, but on a farm, there were rules that applied to everyone. “No exceptions!” he said sternly, pushing back the straw that Timothy had shoved aside during the night. This was not unusual, Timothy was well known as a restless sleeper. “Up you go, Timothy, I’ve got Tiger to look after too.” Timothy yawned and stretched. “Firedragon,” Timothy grumbled. “I’m not going to call you that,” Horox replied, rolling his eyes. It wasn’t their first discussion on the subject, and it wasn’t the right topic today. “You’re not a horse, at least not for much longer. We’ve talked about this. Now get up and get dressed.” “But the clothes are itchy.” That might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but it wasn’t easy for Timothy to get used to clothes. They were restrictive and hot. Sure, goblins wore clothes, but goblins weren’t humans either. “Timothy…” “Firedragon!” “No! We’ve talked about this. You can’t stay with me. You should have been sent to the humans years ago. There’s no need for another stallion in our village — even if you were good at it… ERROR Horox paused briefly and cleared his throat. He didn’t mean to offend the young man, but it was no secret that he was no good as a stallion. “You have to get used to clothes; otherwise you can’t live with humans.” “There are humans everywhere, and they’re all naked!” Horox sighed. “They’re ponygirls and stallions, not humans like you.” “I’m a stallion too, just like my father.” Now Horox laughed out loud. “You might want to be, but you’re not. Your mother was my favourite mare and I always took good care of you. But you know as well as I do that we need fewer stallions than mares. And the peace with humans demands that we send the boys we don’t need to them. You should have left years ago.” “But I don’t want to,” Timothy protested in a quivering voice. “This is my home!” “Timothy…” “Firedragon!” “Enough of this!” shouted Horox, silencing Timothy. “You’re not a stallion, you’re a scrawny young man who needs to find his place among humans. You have that name for a reason. If I wanted you to be a horse, you’d have a horse’s name too! I wish you well, but you can’t stay.” He turned his head away, so Timothy couldn’t see his wet eyes. His ears lay close to his head, as they always did when the weight of the world was heavy on his narrow shoulders. “I wish I had the money to keep you on the farm. But I’ve used up all I’ve got. I can’t afford an eater with no use. I’m sorry. I truly am.” Timothy wanted to say something back, but the old goblin had already left the stable. That gave Timothy no choice but to dress as ordered. The clothes were clean — he only wore them when he absolutely had to, after all — and although they fitted him well, he didn’t like them at all. How could he, after all, they were the mark of the humans on him, and he hated everything about that? How could people feel free with something like that on their bodies? It hid everything good about him — even on a lean young bloke like him — and he sweated terribly in it. Plus, all those pockets… What was he supposed to put in them? “You look good,” Solaria whispered and winked at him. Timothy smiled back. She was the youngest mare in the stables, and they got on well together, as they were both almost the same age and had only recently matured. But that was also the problem. “Come here, let’s talk.” Timothy swallowed and did as asked. Solaria was always very nice to him, perhaps nicer than anyone else. He stood uncertainly by his side, and she grinned broadly. “Horox told me that today is your last day on the farm.” She stood behind a low fence that enclosed the ponygirls’ paddock. It didn’t secure them very well, but the mares didn’t want to be anywhere else anyway. Horox was the nicest goblin far and wide, he gave the mares a lot of freedom, and they were even allowed to talk; things could only get worse for them from here. She leant forward and pressed her ample bosom against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Come to us, no one would see us behind the bushes there. I dare you, Timothy.” He swallowed. She had often made this invitation to him, but he had never accepted — much to the mockery of the ponygirls and Tiger. Even the other stallion wanted to make him follow her, but something deep in his heart kept him from doing so. “Firedragon,” he stammered instead. The name seemed to give him some strength, but not enough to climb over the fence and have fun with Solaria behind the bushes. Horox wouldn’t even have minded; he always said he didn’t care which stallion knocked up his mares, and Solaria was scheduled to have a foal. “You’re not going to do it, are you?” Solaria asked, whinnying in amusement. She took a step back, turned round and bent over, only to present her most intimate parts directly to Timothy. “Tiger would be right inside me by now.” She stepped back and gave him a little kiss on the cheek. “Maybe Firelily would be a more appropriate name for you.” Timothy blushed. “I… I… I’m just not in the mood!” “At your age, you should always be in the mood. You haven’t touched any of us at all,” Solaria said, but there was no malice in her voice. It was just an observation. The other mares, who held back a little, also neighed in agreement. “I truly wish you all the best, Timothy. Please find happiness.” — While Horox prepared the mares for the day, Timothy took the opportunity to bring Tiger his feed. The old stallion was often a bit rough, but Timothy knew that he would never hurt him. Although he had never been like a father to him, he knew that the stallion liked him. “Good morning,” Timothy called out and knocked on the stable door. Unlike Horox, he had no special rights on the farm, and he knew that he’d better only go into the stables if Tiger allowed him to. “Come in,” came Tiger’s deep voice from the darkness. Timothy swallowed. They both lived together on the farm, but he could count their time together on one hand. As a stallion, Tiger was usually tied up in the stable — even with Horox. “I’ll bring you your food.” “Doesn’t Horox have time for me today?” the old stallion said with a laugh. “I didn’t ask him. You might even get two feeds today,’ Timothy replied with a chuckle, taking the bag of pony feed into the stable and filling up the trough. As always, Tiger was secured to the wall with an iron chain. You could fill the trough from the edge, out of Tiger’s reach, but Timothy didn’t see the point. The stallion rose and stood right next to his son. He towered over him by a full head, and had to weigh at least twice as much — the least of which was fat. He exhaled heavily, ruffling Timothy’s hair. “So this is goodbye?” he asked, and for the first time Timothy heard something like sadness in his voice. “You’ve been here far too long. We don’t need a second stallion — if you had been one. You look so much like your mother.” Timothy didn’t dare to look the stallion in the eye. He felt his powerful presence next to him. It took all his strength not to tremble. Weakness was not welcome among stallions, not even if you were not accepted as such. “The human world is supposed to be exciting,” the old stallion continued. “Just imagine it: You can go anywhere you want. A house of your own, and if you have a farm, there are no goblins to boss you around. It must be wonderful.” Timothy heard the tremble in his father’s voice, but he didn’t share the sentiment. What did you do with a day when nobody told him what to do? He was often bored on the farm, what would it be like if no one was in control? A strange fear travelled up his spine. Could freedom be scary? “I don’t want to go,” Timothy whispered. “You have to!” Tiger demanded and Timothy became even smaller. “You should have joined the humans when you were a little boy. Horox was too soft with you, you’re hardly a man anyway.” Tiger had built himself up to his full height beside him. “We don’t need a second stallion on this farm. Go! Go and get a life of your own!” Tiger had shouted the last words. Timothy had run out of the stable and only came to a halt in the dirt behind the nearest shed. “Don’t tease him,” Horox called to Timothy, who remembered well how he had often sneaked up to Tiger as a little boy. “I was just saying goodbye!” Timothy defended himself. “Then you’re ready?” Timothy shook his head. “I’m afraid that doesn’t change a thing. The cart’s coming in the afternoon. Get ready.” — Timothy wandered aimlessly around the yard, his head low between his shoulders as he watched the ponygirls — though not in the manner befitting a stallion, even though that would have been no disgrace here. None of the mares were related to him; Horox had always given away Tiger’s other daughters and sons. Only he had stayed. His mother had died giving birth to him, and he knew how much Horox had loved that mare. That was probably why he had waited so long. But Timothy wasn’t ready to give up so quickly. He knew the rules among the goblins well: men were stallions, women were mares. Only the latter were used for riding, field work and carts. That’s how it was, and that’s how it would always be. But what was the point? He was at least as strong as the mares, and if the others were to be believed, even tamer. He loved that word: “tame”. It felt good, like a warm blanket that gave him protection and security. And it described him well; he wasn’t like the wild stallions that were tethered in the stables. If you only let him, he would carry any goblin round the world once, he was sure of that. Of course, he had never been able to prove it; apart from a few children, for whom he had trotted across the courtyard on all fours a few times, no goblin had ever ridden him, not even Horox, much to his displeasure. But the feeling of little green creatures on his back had been glorious; like a call to a better future that was denied him for a completely nonsensical reason. While Horox went about his duties on the farm, Timothy crept to the horse shed where the mares’ riding gear was kept. There was far more stuff than was needed for the horses, much of it was old and only spare. He swallowed and ventured into the darkness, which offered him some protection. He hurriedly took off the hideous human clothes, but as they were expensive and important to Horox, he carefully placed them in a corner where they would remain clean. After all, he wanted to please Horox and not offend him. When he was naked again, as the god of the goblins had intended for humans, he reached for a harness first. He knew from experience that this one fitted particularly well. The old leather felt good against his skin, it pressed easily into his face and after a short fumble was secured to the back of his head with a tab. Without hands, it would be impossible to open it again. Timothy swallowed again, partly because he was about to have something stuck in his mouth. His favourite bit was particularly large and made of shiny, polished wood. The taste was exciting and strange, but for him, it was one of his favourite objects on every visit to the shed. He moistened his lips and opened his mouth to welcome the intruder. Unfortunately, as he still had all his teeth, the horse bit remained resting on them, but the soft click as the bit clicked into the bridle sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. The horse bit pulled the corners of his mouth back and formed a broad grin on his face that he could feel deep in his heart. There was hardly anything more beautiful in the world than this wonderful feeling. His next move was to grab two reins from the rack and attach them to his bridle directly on the horse’s bit so that Horox could control him. He shivered at the thought. Just once, he would want to feel Horox on his back. To feel the weight of the saddle and the goblin as he steered him through the world with the reins. It was an intoxicating thought, but so far, it had only ever been a dream. Until now, he had never dared to go further than this. Bridle and reins, that was all. But there were still many things in the shed that made his heart beat faster. His eyes wandered to the boots, most of which would probably be too small for him; he looked at the horse’s tails and the plugs, which almost made him lose his breath; but above all, he stared at the saddles that meant the world to him. So often he had looked enviously after the mares when Horox had ridden them out of the yard. His rump was somewhat narrower than that of all the mares, but for a stallion it was probably quite wide, as Tiger had occasionally remarked snidely. Surely, there would be room for a saddle, right? He simply had to dare. There was no tomorrow; if he couldn’t convince Horox of his usefulness this morning, he would probably never see him again. His fingers ran over the rough leather that had already been on many backs. He lifted the saddle and was surprised at how light it was, even though it seemed so large. Both sides were well padded, so Horox gave the mares some comfort too. With unsteady hands, Timothy lifted the saddle onto his shoulders and back, but it wasn’t easy to saddle himself. Timothy knew only too well that his arms belonged under the saddle, but how was he supposed to fasten it? Well, it would have to work that way today. Once Horox saw how useful he was, he would saddle him properly. Then he could stay here, with his family. The leather nestled softly against his back, but he also felt the gap it left for his arms. In front dangled the straps with which the saddle had to be secured to him. As he was no taller than most mares, they should be enough, although Timothy realised immediately that the shape didn’t quite fit. They made a curve on his chest that wasn’t necessary on him. Nevertheless, he pulled them down and secured them first by the belly strap, which worked well. The next step was less pleasant. Timothy had grown up around naked animals, so of course he knew exactly what the difference was between a stallion and a mare. And in this case, his difference got in the way when it came to the strap between his legs. So he had no choice but to place the strap next to his member and testicles, which wasn’t exactly pleasant. Every pull on the saddle irritated his sensitive area and he almost envied the ponygirls. Why had nature made them so perfect for this task and denied him this fortune? But as it was, now that the saddle was halfway on his back, Timothy dared to try on some boots. He had to search for a long time to find a pair that fitted his large feet. They were still too small, but at least he was able to slip them on, albeit with his toes bent. The boots were bright red and painted with a colourful floral pattern, which Timothy was particularly fond of; a preference that had earned him a few sharp comments from Tiger. In general, Tiger was not a fan of Timothy wanting to be ridden. He had often made it clear that this was not appropriate for stallions, but Timothy had long since stopped listening. Once again his eyes wandered to the horses’ tails and his whole body began to sweat slightly with excitement. It was probably just the heat in the stable, he thought to himself, but that was a lie he liked to tell himself. He shook himself briefly and tried to slide his arms under the saddle instead, and to his surprise he actually succeeded. The saddle sat somewhat loosely on his back, and so he was able to push his arms under the flexible leather, albeit with great difficulty. Anyone who saw him now would have clearly recognised the joy between his legs at his success, but Timothy was blind to it. Instead, he walked straight out of the shed with his head held high, ready to face his new future. It was an incredible feeling to step out into the world as a riding horse. He could feel the wind on his body, and for a moment, it seemed as if even the birds in the trees were singing just for him. Of course, he hadn’t missed the irony of having to tie himself up so tightly to feel free, but some things in life were complicated and that didn’t bother him in the slightest. He trotted — he loves the sound of that word — across the yard at a fast pace, right past the mares, who stared at him with wide eyes. No doubt this was not what they had expected today, but should they just stare, he thought, soon he would be waiting there with them and be useful. “Run, Firelily, run!” Solaria cheered him on. Timothy rolled his eyes, even at a moment like this she had to make fun of him. But ultimately, it didn’t matter, he just needed the approval of Horox, who was preparing a mare for fieldwork. Timothy made a wide circle, then neighed loud enough for Horox to hear him. The old goblin turned around in amazement and stared open-mouthed at Timothy. “What are you doing, Timothy?” he asked in a serious voice that felt like a bucket of cold water over Timothy’s head. Immediately, his energy and joy evaporated, and he felt hideously stupid jumping across the yard like that. He stammered something through the horse’s bit, but apart from a whinny, nothing came through. “Tack!” Horox ordered, and Timothy went to his knees with a tingling sensation in his stomach. Horox had never used that command on him before, and it felt good! “You’re not a mare, Timothy. I know how much you don’t want to go, but you can’t change it.” He took Timothy’s head in his arms and squeezed him lovingly. “This is a place for mare and stallion. You are none of those things. I’m sorry, but you can’t stay.” He took the horse bit from Timothy’s mouth. “Please, I would rather not leave!” Timothy pleaded. “I’m useful. I can be ridden. Really!” But Horox shook his head. “Goblins don’t ride stallions. And not human men either. I’m sorry, I really am. If there was a way, I’d keep you. But I don’t have the money to feed you and…” “What?” asked Timothy. There was something Timothy had noticed for a long time, but had never quite understood. “And you’re not registered. At least not like this. Do you see the numbers on Tiger and the ponygirls? Those are their registration numbers, you know that, right?” Timothy nodded. “You don’t have one. Until you came of age, you were registered as a foal and therefore protected. But that’s over now. You’ll get a travelling number from the coachman, which will protect you in Goblinland under his watchful eye. But that’s only for a short time. Otherwise, anything can happen to you if you get caught.” “But I want to be a pony!” said Timothy, stamping his feet. “Believe me, you don’t want that with some folks. You have to go to the humans, only there are you safe. You have no place with us goblins.” Timothy neighed unhappily. “Master, please ride me at least once.” “Stop calling me master!” growled Horox. “You’re not my pony. I’ll take this saddle off you, it doesn’t fit you properly anyway.” Although Timothy was used to being naked and hated people’s clothes, losing a saddle was a new experience. It was like having the skin ripped off his body, and now he was standing there in the square with his insides exposed. It was a horrible feeling. “Get dressed again, the carriage must arrive soon.” — Half an hour later, the cart rolled along the narrow dirt track, its four wide wooden wheels kicking up a lot of dust that covered everything. A single, sturdy ponygirl pulled the cart, fighting the weight with impressive stamina. Timothy couldn’t take his eyes off her, though he certainly wasn’t looking at her like Tiger was. Her powerful legs pounded over the path as she braced herself firmly against the wide straps that connected her to the cart. The goblin in the driver’s seat steered her casually with the reins in one hand as he swung a long whip that cracked repeatedly on her ass. This was what heaven looked like to Timothy; if, unfortunately for him, he didn’t end up on the loading area. “Are you ready?” asked Horox, holding Timothy’s damp hand. He, too, had a lump in his throat, while the mares wept bitterly in the background. Even Tiger had come to the stable door — as far as his chain would allow — and looked at his son with sad eyes. He had seen many of his children move, but none had he come to know as well as Timothy. “No,” Timothy replied curtly, coughing as the cart came to a halt in front of him and the dust enveloped him and Horox. “Is this Horox’s farm?” asked the goblin from the driver’s seat. He was wearing a wide hat and had a scar across his face. “Is that the cargo? “That’s Timothy,” Horox said, his voice cracking. “He needs to go to the human side. Do you have the necessary documents with you?” “He’s a bit… old. What happened, did you forget him in the stables?” Horox growled. “Why should you care? Are you doing it or not?” Timothy raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. “It’s all right. I’ve got everything here. This is your copy. Do you have the number we need to paint on his back?” Horox nodded. “Timothy, take off your shirt for a minute,” Horox demanded. “Tack!” Timothy was sure that Horox had only said that to make Timothy feel better, and it did indeed help. He got to his knees and felt the other goblin draw a number right between his shoulder blades. “This will let the soldiers on the line know why I’m taking him out of our country. Pray no raiders attack us. They don’t care about that sort of thing.” “Does this happen often?” asked Timothy, who wasn’t sure whether this was good or bad for him. “Rarely. But it happens,” said the goblin. “Up you go, we don’t have all day. “Master, I don’t want to…” Timothy began, but Horox cut him off with a quick wave of his hand. “Stop with the stupid master. You’re not my pony.” His eyes softened. “On the cart with you, or I’ll get the whip.” He smiled at Timothy, knowing full well that the young man didn’t necessarily dislike the idea. But Timothy obeyed and climbed up, finding a place among the pots, pans, sacks, and crates. It wasn’t very comfortable, but goods had no say in the matter. The coachman gave his mare the whip and the cart set off. It hadn’t even left the yard when Timothy panicked. Sweat ran down his forehead, and his whole future seemed to turn black before his eyes. Without thinking, he stood up and jumped off the cart. Behind him, he heard the cart screech and skid to a halt. “Timothy, what are you doing?” grumbled Horox. “If you want to be my pony, then obey me. I order you to climb onto the cart. Fine, I’ll make it a little easier for you. You can take off your shirt and trousers, but the rest stays on. Put them both neatly on the cart, understand?” Timothy nodded and, relieved, did as ordered. At least he had regained some freedom. But before he could climb up, Horox stopped him. “Not so fast. You still seem to need something.” The old goblin smiled broadly and held up a thin rope. He walked behind Timothy, took his hands and tied them behind his back, just like you would with a ponygirl. Timothy’s heart beat faster. It was a loving parting gift from his friend, and he was truly grateful for it. “Thank you,” Timothy whispered and gave the old goblin a kiss on his bald head. “I’ll miss you,” Horox said in a trembling voice. “I wish you had been born a mare.” Timothy didn’t answer, partly because he didn’t know what to say. Not only did he not have the words, he simply didn’t know what to think. Instead, he clambered awkwardly — without hands — onto the cart and sat down next to the hideous human clothes. The carriage set off again, but this time Timothy remained seated. He closed his eyes and ignored everything around him. He knew that if he looked back, he would jump down again. It was hard enough to control himself as it was, one last look at his family would be too painful. “My name is Feriox, by the way,” said the coachman. “And up ahead is my impetuous mare Ironfoot. Believe me, the name fits, no one has a harder kick than her. But don’t worry, she may be wild, but she won’t hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it.” Timothy only had a feeble nod in reply, his thoughts were bothering him too much. — The journey had already taken over three hours, and they were approaching the furthest point Timothy had ever travelled. His world had been small, but it had always been enough for him. But now he had to go out into the great distance, and he would be all alone. He was boredly studying the trees at the side of the road when he noticed a small light darting between the broad trunks. It zigzagged around, sometimes up, then down, and even stopped in midair. Timothy had never seen anything like it before, and it couldn’t really exist. Unless it was… no, Timothy thought, those were just stories. Almost as if the light had heard him, it changed course and headed straight for the cart. Timothy ducked, and the light shot right over his head. What the hell was that? He raised his head, but then the light turned around and raced straight towards him. Timothy closed his eyes out of reflex, but then nothing happened. Only a strange buzzing or hissing sound could be heard, and he dared to open his eyes again. A fairy was fluttering in midair in front of him! That was impossible. Yet, the little flying girl scrutinised him closely as he stared at her with wide eyes. “You’re pretty skinny for a stallion,” she squeaked in a high-pitched voice. “Where are they taking you?” Timothy swallowed loudly. “What are you?” That was a stupid question, of course, the answer was obvious, but his mind hadn’t quite caught up with him yet. “A fairy, you blockhead! I’m Minoria the Magnificent,” she cried theatrically, fluttering around his head. Timothy looked at the driver, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Don’t worry, goblins can’t see fairies. Only humans. And even among you, very few; or the horses ignore us. You were watching me fly, I noticed that straight away. You look sad, what’s wrong?” Timothy told her everything. He didn’t know why, but he just had to get it off his chest. “You want to be ridden? That goblin god’s nonsense must have really screwed with your head. Be glad you’re joining the humans. At least you’ll be free.” “I’m free with Horox!” shouted Timothy, but again the driver didn’t react. “You can’t understand that.” “Obviously. But if you’re not a good stallion and you want to stay, why don’t you become a mare?” Timothy screwed up his face. “How is that supposed to work?” “I don’t know, I’m not human! Can’t you transform or something?” “No! And besides…” Timothy began, but then there was a loud bang and he almost flew out of the carriage. “What happened?” This time the coachman must have heard him, or he just said it because it made sense anyway: “The road’s bad, Ironfoot got stuck somewhere. The poor thing has fallen.” He jumped off the cart and looked after his horse with surprising affection — for being a goblin who liked to use his whip. “That doesn’t look good, her leg is probably broken, and we’re hours away from the nearest camp. This area isn’t exactly densely populated. A farmer will have to lend us a mare.” Timothy sat unsteadily on the flatbed and watched as Ironfoot dragged herself around the cart. It was a terrible sight that softened his heart. “You have to take her place,” Minoria whispered in his ear. “You can be his ponygirl. Do it.” Timothy swallowed again. He wasn’t a ponygirl, but… he could be useful. Be of service to someone. Fulfil a purpose. Be free. “I can help,” he blurted out, loud enough to make Feriox and Ironfoot flinch in surprise. “What did you say?” Feriox asked. “I can pull the cart.” “You’re not a ponygirl. Sit back down.” Minoria fluttered around him. “You have to convince him! Be his ponygirl. It’s silly, but if you want it that badly, do it!” “I can do it, I promise,” Timothy said. “Even if you could — which I don’t think you can — you’re still not a girl. Only ponygirls pull carts. It’s a legal issue, but also one of faith. We goblins have morals too. We only use humans as animals because our faith tells us to. There are clear rules for this, and one of them states that only girls and women may be used as riding and working animals. No offence, but you may be skinny, but you’re not a girl.” “He’s almost convinced,” Minoria said, landing on Timothy. “Be stubborn!” “But this is an emergency. My arms are already tied. All you have to do is dress me up and I’ll be fine.” “Why do you want this so badly?” Feriox asked sceptically. “You’re supposed to be with the humans. What do you see in pulling a cart?” “That’s none of your business, Timothy hissed, and Minoria praised him quietly. “Do you want to sit here in the dirt and watch Ironfoot bleed, or do you want me to pull you both to camp? My arms are already bound, you just have to do the rest.” Feriox thought about it for a long time, then nodded. “Fine, my faith allows me that much flexibility. And if not, it’s a small sin. You obviously want it, so what the hell. Come down and we’ll get you ready.” Timothy’s heart beat wildly in his chest. This was what he’d dreamed of — at least it was a start. He’d rather be dashing through the forest with Horox on his back right now, but being a useful pony at all was a good step. He stood behind the cart and, despite his arms, managed to help Ironfoot into the back. Feriox had taken the pony’s things off her first: The boots, the bridle, and the horse’s bit, still wet with her saliva. Ironfoot stretched her jaw and then said: “I’ve never met anyone like you. But thank you. Have fun with the whip.” “Quiet, Ironfoot,” she admonished Feriox, but the mare only stuck her tongue out at him playfully. The two were obviously a well-rehearsed team, and now it was Timothy’s turn to take over her role. “First we need to dress you up a bit. You’ve got a good physique for a woman — no offence — except for a few things that are missing, or too much. I’ve got some wide straps that hide everything between your legs. I’ve got a trick for around the top.” To Timothy’s great shame, he fetched a long scarf and a few scraps of cloth. He wrapped the scarf around his upper body so tightly that it hugged his chest. He stuffed the scraps of cloth into it until the outline of two rather ample breasts formed, making Timothy blush deeply. Ironfoot burst out laughing, but she also praised his rack. Timothy wiggled his new breasts, and it felt oddly fitting. “They look good on you,” Minoria said, still perched on his shoulder. “I guess you’re going to be a real ponygirl after all. All you need is a ponytail… or another stallion?” “Shut up!” Timothy hissed, but the fairy just chuckled. “What should I call you? With Timothy, everyone knows something’s wrong.” “Fire…” Timothy began out of reflex, but he bit his tongue before he’d finished saying it. “Firelily.” “A fitting name,” said Feriox with a grin. “You must have thought about it before. Interesting.” Timothy grumbled, but he preferred to concentrate on standing still while Feriox put on his boots — which fitted surprisingly well — and then the rest. The bridle was a little tighter than necessary, but the horse bit took him straight back to heaven, even if he would have gladly done without Ironfoot’s spit. Again he grinned broadly and bit down on the pleasant wood, which in this case had a wholly different flavour. He liked it. Meanwhile, Feriox fastened the straps between his new breasts, which bounced outwards even more. It wasn’t entirely convincing, and would certainly raise some questions, but it was better than nothing. Shortly afterwards, Timothy stood in front of the cart as Firelily and was finally harnessed to the cart by Feriox. Firelily could hardly believe it, she really was a useful ponygirl now — at least for now. It was strange what paths the world sometimes offered you, but you either followed them or you didn’t. “You look good,” Minoria complimented. “Very pretty. I’m sure you look a lot like your mother, Firelily.” She just neighed and prepared herself for the start. She felt Feriox climb onto the cart, then heard the cutting screech of the whip in the air before the leather tongue kissed her buttocks hard. It was an indescribable feeling, and she should hate it, but for Firelily it was a promising invitation to a whole new life. If she could convince Feriox that she was useful here and now, maybe she wouldn’t have to join the humans. She braced herself with all her strength against the cart, which was much heavier than it looked. She moaned in high-pitched tones around the horse’s bit, but then the cart started to move. The whip hit her again and again, and she was always grateful for it. A ponygirl needed the whip, a ponygirl wanted the whip. She giggled around the horse bit, picking up speed until she reached a slow trot. It wasn’t fast, but enough to pull the cart to the next camp. “Good girl, keep it up,” Feriox praised, and Firelily wiggled her bum. It might not be as wide and shapely as the other ponygirls’, but it was good enough for a whip. Maybe even for a ponytail. A pleasant shiver went down her spine when she thought about it. She walked on without thinking, feeling the first tug of the reins, and yet she reacted entirely on instinct, as if she had never done anything else in her life. Feriox guided her reins lightly and gently, but it was enough for his new ponygirl. She responded excellently and quickly. “You’re doing very well. Good girl. When we get to camp, maybe I’ll consider letting you stay after all.” Firelily neighed loudly and contentedly, bracing herself against the cart once more. She would be useful. She would become a horse that always listened obediently to her master’s reins while serving him. “Have fun, Firelily,” Minoria whistled and dashed back into the forest. But above all, she would be free.