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Centaur shifters kidnap Sierra to be a human pony. Will she be a bad pony or will she be a good pony for a chance to be in the prince's harem?

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All around her, the centaurs that had each carried a woman pulled out a leadrope and attached it to their female's collars. The centaur that had carried Sierra approached and she backed away. She wanted no part of whatever was about to happen.

"Hold still, pony," the centaur said as he kept advancing.

"No!"

She took off and ran, though she knew there was nowhere to go. The centaurs at the back of the group closed ranks and one of them snagged her as she tried to run by. He held her with her arms pinned to his body while the leadrope was attached to her collar. The hold on her was relaxed, but only so that her arms could be tied behind her.

"Come," said the centaur who'd carried her from the village. He tugged on her rope and she stumbled a few steps before catching her balance. With her only choices being to follow or to be dragged, Sierra walked behind him as slowly as he'd allow.

They fell into the line of centaurs and females walking into the barn. As they entered, she saw women wearing jeans and shirts blazoned with a badge of a bridle on it. They stepped outside of a door off to the side and they took the leashes from the centaurs. A woman with her black hair in a braid took the rope from the centaur leading Sierra.

"Come on, pony, let's get you situated," the woman said.

"I'm not a pony," Sierra said. She was sick of being called a pony. She was a human, not an animal.

The groom didn't reply, but she did give a jerk on the leash as she led the way farther into the barn. As they passed the door where the groom had come out, she could see various harnesses and bridles hanging inside. The groom led her farther inside and the 'ponies' that had greeted her on the outside now came in to watch her from the inside of their stalls.

Women wearing pony ears peeked out over the doors. Those that put their arms over the stall doors had their hands bound in what looked like hooves. A few actually whinnied as if in greeting.

Sierra's heart sunk. Was this what she was expected to do? To wear horse ears and pretend hooves? And to whinny? She pulled back on her rope in protest and then yelped as something smacked her ass.

"Get moving," said Larisa, she waved the crop at her as if she'd hit her a second time.

Sierra couldn't believe she'd been hit like a common animal. She jumped forward to avoid another sway, but shot a nasty look back at the head groom.

The groom stopped at an empty stall. Unlike most of the other doors, this one had bars across the top. Ella opened the door before leading Sierra in. The stall was about the size of a large horse stall. There was a small bed in the corner and another stall door leading to the outside. There wasn't much else.

"I'm going to take off the ropes from your arms now," the groom said.

She undid the ropes around Sierra's arms and Sierra rubbed at where the ropes had chafed. The groom also took off the leash and Sierra took a few steps out of the groom's reach.

"Your clothes are next," the groom said. "Ponies don't wear clothes."

"I'm not taking off my clothes," Sierra said. Just because the other ponies were all naked didn't mean she wanted to be naked, too. She backed up another step and glanced at the stall door to the outside pasture, debating whether she could get past the groom, but where she'd even run after that she had no idea.

The groom put her hands on her hips. "You're better off letting me do it. Mistress Larisa loves to break naughty ponies. But good ponies get rewarded. It's much better to be a good pony."

"I'm not a pony." Sierra glared.

"You are now," the groom said. "That's what the centaurs brought you here for. They can't breed without human women, and you've been chosen to be one of those women. You should be honored."

Sierra stilled, the words sinking in. She'd been kidnapped only so that she could be made to act like a human pony and turned into a broodmare for the centaurs. The panicked feeling of wanting to get out nearly overwhelmed her. She made a break for the nearly closed door that led into the stable aisle.

She reached the door before the groom and gave it a shove only to pull to a stop. Larisa was there tapping her whip against her boot.

"Well, well, well," she said, "we have a very naughty pony. Now what are we to do about that?" She snapped her fingers. "Bring her out."

"Yes, Mistress Larisa," the groom said with a diffident nod.

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