(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/Characters/Avatars/PammyAvatar-06.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Pamela "Titty" Thaunton</span></span><br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Quayside (and en route to).<br/><strong>With:</strong>Mistress, Leotie and the ferryman, then left alone.<br/><strong>Restrictor Collar:</strong>1<br/><hr/><br/>It was all down hill. That actually sounds easier that it really is... There is such a thing as conservation of momentum. newtons first law: A body in motion tends to remain in motion unless acted upon by an external force. The sulky was heavy and was being acted on by gravity which was trying to accelerate it down hill. On some of the curves it was all I could do to make the thing turn. Mistress was on the handbrake, thank goodness. She may be cruel but she isn't stupid. Having an exhausted animal try and slow the cart without assistance was asking for trouble. I wouldn't care, because i would most likely be dead, crushed between the cart and whatever it ran into, but Mistress and her little pet, would probably survive such a crash.<br/><br/>But it didn't happen. I didn't want it to happen and did my best to avoid it happening. If I wanted to die there were easier ways!<br/><br/>So, yes, the route was fairly straight and only a couple of nasty switch-backs. I could hear the sounds of Mistress playing with her pet just behind me. I have to admit to a tinge of envy. What wouldn't I give to be there, now... One moment of rage, not fully comprehending the consequences of my changed circumstances, and my life had become one of perpetual torture. And the funny thing about that is it grows on you.<br/><br/>At first I had resisted and struggled, but over the years I had learned that was futile, and stopped, then I had learned to accept the pain and humiliation, and now... Heh, now I actually enjoyed them.<br/><br/>I was too busy concentrating on the road to care about the beauty of the Monaco streets at night. There was a lot of traffic, and even though Mistress was officially driving and I was just the animal pulling the cart, it fell to me to make sure it was safe. Mistress could whip my backside until it bled, but there was no way I was going to pull out into traffic until the oncoming vehicles gave way. Thank fuck for the stupid European law that gives priority to traffic joining from the right...<br/><br/>Well, we made it safely to the harbour and Mistress asked a ferryman about the Galaxy. I snorted and stamped, hoping for a treat, maybe. HAH! Boy did I get a treat. Mistress set up one of her moveable hitching posts, and I let out a soft frustrated sigh, knowing damn well what was coming.<br/><br/>I whickered a soft plea that was completely ignored, as I expected it to be. Mistress had made her mind up and I was the object of her sadism for this evening. No milking, no orgasms, and a cold two-inch bar shoved deep into my cunt. I was tempted, oh, so very tempted, as Mistress left with the pet. But the man was sitting there watching me lecherously. I decided not to give him the satisfaction.<br/><br/>God how I needed to cum. More than that, though, as the evening cooled and the sweat dried on me, I needed to sit down. My thigh muscles began twitching and the only way to ease them was to do what real pony's do - stand hip-shot. One hip higher than the other takes the weight off the leg that is raised, but puts it all on the other leg.<br/><br/>I was careful that the man Mistress had paid to watch didn't see me change hips, only doing so when he was looking away, because he might misconstrue the motion. It did shift the bar inside me a little but not sufficient to cause me to cum. A few tourists wandered by and one, giggling, offered me a sugar lump which I accepted gratefully. They weren't supposed to, I'd heard Mistress say she'd set my collar to one, but I guess being a ponygirl in public was novel enough that I drew a small crowd. A Japanese tourist actually asked the ferryman if he would take a photo of him and his wife standing next to me, and they were told no. I was private property and was not to be touched. The tourist said he didn't want to touch me, just have his photo taken and the sailor, reluctantly, agreed.<br/><br/>I whickered and snorted and was rewarded with a broken bit of biscuit. Anything to get my blood sugar level back up.<br/><br/>I lost track of how long I stood there. At least it was a warm night.