ESM: Harmony's Story

Changing Residences

It was raining heavily on the evening I was presented to the Vino household. Rain is considered a bad omen in the best of times, but how much bad luck can one mare have, especially on the night that her rights were taken away? It seemed as though I was cursed, from the moment that I had awoken my stomach had felt like a pack of timberwolves were ripping me to shreds, this of course meant that I could barely eat a tiny carrot in one sitting.

I was truly sick to my stomach. However, that was only a part of my emotional torment, thoughts raced through my head - awful, awful thoughts that I wouldn’t wish upon my worst of enemies. To have your entire life stuffed into suitcases and dumped to the other side of the county to be some stallion’s concubine… A concubine to somepony of whom I didn’t know his name. I can barely describe the mental pain I was going through.

For some reason, the powers at be had decided to conceal the identity of said Master until our first meeting. Perhaps, if I had known who I was dealing with - good or bad - I may not have been so nervous. His concealed meant that I had hope, hope that he might be a decent stallion and a Master who would treat me like a pony should be treated. The situation looked to building up my hope only to have them shattered by some slob who wanted me for nothing more than my sex.

Although, I already knew the life that awaited me, it would be a life of servitude to the masters of the household, to be displayed as trophies when needed then moments later be hidden from society in order to be bred, beaten and used for their pleasure. Although, my family had only lived in Morgan County for a couple of weeks, I was daily force fed a diet of the rules and etiquette of the ESM, preparing me for the day where I would become the ‘mare’ for my young master. I can barely describe the mental pain I was going through.

You see, under the banner of the ESM, a mare’s worth is dependant upon two life-defining conditions; their ability to serve their role as a “Mare”, and the eligibility, as well as the legality, to have sex - both of which require Mare’s to be eighteen. On the flipside, a Master serves as the face of a household, the breadwinner who plays an active role within the community and gets to live his life as though he were a normal pony. To put it bluntly, in the ESM, the ceremony of placing a mare under the care of a Master is more of a right for stallions than a privilege.

Image of the flag used by the ESM organisation.

To have a Mare under your name is a status symbol, a right of passage for young colts and stallions taking their first steps into adulthood. It is looked down upon when an of-age stallion does not have a female in place to parade around as eye-candy at parties or obligatory bed-warmer for when it’s cold. Simply put, if you are eligible to take a Mare and do not possess one, you’re a nobody. In the ESM, females give you clout - usually in more ways than one.

And that was the impression I held over the colt I was to be paired with, from what I had read and experienced I knew that I would be lucky to be paired with a Master who wouldn’t immediately try to breed me. The terrifying part is that there is no way around it, the organizations rules clearly state that Mare’s are to submit regardless of what the Master wishes from them.

This scared me, I felt too young to become pregnant, in truth I felt too young to start participating in sexual activities, but I had no choice. I had nowhere else to go, I wasn’t naive about my options, there was too routes open for me - I could either be a Mare of an ESM family or be thrown out by my parents and forced into prostitution. So, there was only one thing I needed to do.

I took my time piecing myself together, using the time I had available to bathe myself in the soothing warm water that lapped at my fur, actively removing any dirt or blemish that mired my coat which had to be simply glowing when I met my family-to-be. You may wonder why I chose to put so much effort into how I looked for something I dreaded so much, the quick truth is that I’d be damned walking into such an elitist environment looking like a ruffian, it was a simple matter of pride.

Well, that and not wanting to risk the wrath of both my father as well as every other stallion in that room. It would be a disastrous start to try and get on the Pino’s good side.

Before our party left for the Vino household up in the hills of Morgan County, I did my best to look as clean and presentable as possible. I straightened my black mane that parted around my shined horn that protruded proudly from my head, brushed my matching tail to appear full and thick, combed my white coat so that it shone in the light and made sure that the piano keys on my flanks boldly announced themselves against the backdrop of my white coat..

After that all there was to do was to don my specially tailored black dress, still slightly warm from being recently cleaned and pressed to remove any and all wrinkles from the delicate fabric. I had to admit that it was beautiful which in turn made me look stunning when I used my magic to carefully put it on. With it on I moved to stand in front of my room’s mirror. The last time I did such a thing, I noted how the dress complimented my equally dark-toned mane and tail. I must have stood there for a minute or two when a knock at the door shook me out of my daydream.

It was my maid signifying that it was time to leave.

The road to the dreaded Pino manor was long, bumpy and cold. Dark clouds had rolled across the sky early that evening, blocking out what remained of the autumn sun which cooled the earth considerably before the rain began to torrent onto the soil that we rode upon. Thankfully, the carriage that I was sat in was waterproof, successfully protecting me from getting wet - one of the day’s only saving grace. We had probably been sat in the carriage for nearly twenty minutes before we encountered more hilly terrain, making progress slow and comfort nearly minimal.

I wasn’t alone, both my mother and father were making the trip with me, although it wasn’t due to them wanting to say goodbye with a kiss and a cuddle, it was more to make sure that I wouldn't intentionally mess things up. I’ll admit, when I had first been propositioned with the idea of becoming a Mare for the ESM I was a little more than vocal about my reservations.

We had probably been sat in the carriage for nearly twenty minutes before we encountered more hilly terrain, making progress slow and comfort nearly minimal.

“Sit up, Filly. Were you raised in a barn?” The gruff, weathered voice of my aging father demanded, ripping me out of my thoughts. It was from him that I inherited my black mane and tail, that was about it, our coat colours couldn’t have been further apart - his being a dark-grey while mine was a stunning white - the same rang true for our personalities.

It was from my mother that I inherited the majority of my looks, she was the one who gave me my unicorn genes, my white coat and smooth facial features too. I’ve always been surprised that I never inherited her beautiful pink mane and tail, perhaps that was nature’s way of making sure that I knew from whom I came from, keeping my father with me forevermore.

It appeared that whilst swimming in my dark, depressing thoughts I had begun to slouch, bending my spine and resting my weight upon my chest. Knowing my father well, I could tell that he too was nervous about the transaction’s success and was willing to skin me and where the skin to the meeting if it meant that the ESM were to accept his family and his business into the organization.

“Yes, Sir. No, Sir.” I said automatically, shifting my dress-restricted flanks I managed to straighten my back and correct my posture, not wanting to risk the wrath of my father.

“How am I supposed to present you to the Vino household with a hump in your back?” My father goaded ruthlessly, using his piercing blue eyes to scrutinize everything from my posture to the faintest wrinkles on my black dress. From his grumpy facial expression, it was clear that he was unimpressed with… something about me – I couldn’t keep track of everything with the thoughts I had racing through my head at that point.

Without warning, the smoothness of the dirt track was replaced with a harshness that sent shockwaves up through the carriage. The surface made the entire carriage shake, and I had to reach out with my right forehoof to steady myself using the wooden door as my support. Reaching out had caused me to lean to the right and from this position I could see a bright yellow light, dull at first, but which slowly grew brighter as we pulled near it.

The light was a useful tool for my eyes and I was greeted to the sight of a low stone wall that stretched off into the night in both directions. I’m a stickler for decour and well-designed structures and this wall was no exception as we approached, a flicker of light blinded me momentarily and I was quick to understand that it wasn’t coming from the lampost. It was a metal plaque that had been carefully hammered into the stone wall that divided the road from the landlord’s property with something etched onto it. I surmised that it was probably the name of the family who owned the land. As we passed the lamppost I was able to read it properly and immediately I wished I hadn’t.

PINO

To be continued…