Bondage Hotel

by Charles Graham

The cold, hard serrations of the bit pressed deep into her mouth, trapping her tongue and the rings at each corner of her mouth compressed her cheeks as he buckled the heavy straps about her head, completing her harnessing before unclipping her from the overhead ceiling track.

  “Walk on the spot,” he ordered and Hazel obeyed as the pony-girl she had become, her knees lifting high and her hobble chain clinking softly as he walked around her, his experienced eyes checking her harness but seemingly oblivious to her naked charms.

  Trained to be pleasing to Masters, her body honed to respond to their slightest touch, it was a new experience for Hazel to find herself ignored.

  She had assumed, naturally enough, that he would take advantage of her tightly trussed body to toy with her breasts and sex, perhaps even take her, but he had done neither and she couldn’t decide whether she was relieved, or disappointed by his decision.

  “Halt,” he said. As Hazel stopped and stood quite still, he patted her firmly on her left buttock and added casually, “Good little pony.” His tone was friendly but neutral, as if he didn’t expect her to understand the words.

  Hazel flushed redly as she realised that, to him, she really was a pony.

  A dumb, harnessed beast to be put to work, her efforts directed and controlled by his reins and his whip, her body and muscles and brain simply an extension of his will.

  He didn’t speak to her because he was not in the habit of talking to his animals and any praise he might give would be given as a direct result of her labours, as impersonally as a farmer petting his prize cow.

  Hazel tossed her head petulantly, her eyes sparkling with anger as he stroked her long, auburn hair...though he would probably call it her mane, she thought bitterly...and jerked away from his hand, too furious and humiliated to care what he might do to her.

  “Oho. Feeling frisky, are we? We can’t have that,” he said and strode to the wall and took down a short tether of braided rope.

  In the relatively cramped confines of the stable with her arms clamped uselessly behind her back and her knees hobbled by chain, Hazel’s chances of evading capture were nil and in no more than a few seconds, his right hand closed on a strap of her head harness and his left snapped the tether to the ring at her cheek.

  A sharp tug at the rope caused the steel bit in her mouth to saw painfully across her tongue and brought her, literally, to heel, her head dragged down to the level of his waist.

  A second tug, equally sharp, set her stumbling forward as he led her over to the wall, where he passed the free end of her tether through an eyebolt and clipped it to the ring at her other cheek, holding her doubled over.

  Whimpering in fear and already deeply regretting her momentary disobedience, Hazel squealed in pain as his crop blazed across her taut-stretched buttocks, burning lines of searing heat into her flesh, the frantic weaving of her bottom and futile clawing of her hands failing to spoil his aim or deflect the stinging lashes.

  He cropped her expertly and thoroughly, transforming her bottom into a sea of throbbing heat and leaving her in absolutely no doubt who was in command as she wept and screamed and writhed.

  When he had finished, he released her tether from the eyebolt and led her back to the centre of the room.

  “Do not disobey again,” he said simply and removed the tether rope, taking it over to the wall and replacing it where he had found it, then walking over to the carriage Hazel was to pull and giving it a thorough examination.

  Frightened and with her cropped bottom smarting unmercifully, Hazel stood absolutely motionless, her body held rigidly erect and her legs parted to the full extent of her hobble chains, presenting herself as submissively as she knew how and trying not to shudder as she pictured him seated on the carriage, his coach whip biting into her flesh as she pulled him around the grounds.

  Behind her, the door opened and she blushed, not daring to turn around as tinkling laughter told her that the woman had arrived.

  “Hello, darling. I see you haven’t wasted any time in reminding your pony-girl of her responsibilities. Her bottom looks red enough to fry eggs on. Whatever did she do to deserve that?”

  “Ah, there you are at last, Ellie. I was beginning to wonder if you’d got a touch of cold feet and decided against joining us.”

  “What? And miss the chance to go for a lovely run in the country with a sweet, kind man like you, my love. As if I would, James,” the woman laughed gaily, but with a slight, almost unnoticeable tremor in her voice to betray a hint of anxiety.

  “Well, I hope you enjoy it,” he chuckled. “I am quite certain I shall. Anyway, what do you think of my pony-girl, now that she’s harnessed?”

  To Hazel’s embarrassment, the woman, Ellie, walked around from behind her and subjected her to an inspection almost as detailed as the man’s, even going so far as to tug at the bit in Hazel’s mouth to ensure that the redhead could not expel it from her jaws.

  In return, Hazel sneaked a look at her, seeing a trim, blue eyed blonde, slightly taller and perhaps a little more fully breasted and broader hipped than herself, but quite clearly in the peak of physical condition, her evenly suntanned body clad in a wine-red leather basque that barely covered her nipples, narrowed to little more than a thong between her legs and, as Hazel saw when the woman turned to talk to the man, was virtually backless, only thin strips of leather holding it on her body.

  Once, before her enslavement, Hazel would have been shocked by such a costume and would certainly never have dreamed of wearing anything like it...but at that moment, she would willingly have swapped with Ellie and been grateful for the minimal protection it would have given to her naked breasts and sex.

  “She looks good in harness,” Ellie decided finally. “Pretty little filly, isn’t she?”

  “I prefer my pony-girls to be blonde with blue eyes,” James responded, “And considerably better trained than that one.”

  Ellie beamed at him, pleased by the compliment. “Well, you’re in luck today. I just happen to meet all three criteria and I could do with a new carriage driver. My last one let me get a bit soft.”

  James grinned, “Is that so? Then consider yourself sold to a new owner. I need a pony-girl to form a pair with that one.” He paused for a moment and his grin grew wider. “Oh, and you needn’t worry...I’m nowhere near as soft as your last owner.”

  Ellie’s smile slipped a little, then recovered its brilliance. “Then I shall have to be as good a pony-girl as I think I am,” she said slowly.

  “That would be best,” he agreed. “Right. Let’s get you harnessed and between the shafts.”

  Ellie nodded, then said, “If you’ve had some trouble with her, what about using a bearing-rein? I know it’s a bit hard on her, but I bet it would work.”

  James turned to Hazel and gave her a cold, hard stare that sent an icy shiver up her spine. “What an excellent idea, my love. Of course. You’re absolutely right,” he said as he strode over to the wall where all the pony-girl harnesses were laid out.

  Hazel trembled wildly, having no idea what a bearing-rein was, but sure that she wasn’t going to like it.

  James was already displeased with her and considered her to be disobedient, so anything that he considered an excellent idea to make her better behaved was bound to be awful.

  It was.

  It looked harmless really, simply a broad leather strap with a snap hook at each end, adjustable for length by a buckle at its centre.

  But its effect was anything but harmless.

  He clipped one end to the ring at the end of the steel rod clamping her arms but then made Hazel tilt her head back until her throat was stretched taut and clipped the other end to the ring on the crown of her head.

  Held by the bearing-rein, she couldn’t lower her head, couldn’t see her own body, couldn’t even see the ground directly in front of her.

  Hazel was absolutely terrified and absolutely helpless and moaned in anguish as James chuckled cruelly, “There now, pony-girl. Maybe that will te
ach you to be docile and obedient.”

  Hazel would have done anything to be freed from the horrible strap, but it had been placed on her as a punishment and she knew she would have to endure its added discomfort for as long as he wished.

  With the expert assistance of his blonde companion, James soon had Hazel securely fastened between the left hand pair of shafts of the double carriage, long driving reins clipped to her bit and led back to the seat.

  Ellie looked at the way Hazel’s head was strained back by the bearing-rein and turned to James. “Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea of mine, James,” she said, her eyes concerned. “It really is pretty hard on her and it’ll be even worse when she starts to run.”

  “Yes,” he replied evenly, “It will. But it’s her own fault and she’ll just have to get used to it.”

  She tried one more time. “Couldn’t you at least loosen it a bit, darling? Even I wouldn’t find it easy to run like that.”

  “Who said that being a pony-girl had to be easy?” he retorted, then sighed, “Oh, all right, Ellie. I’ll think about it after I’ve harnessed you.”

  Ellie lifted her arms as he buckled a waist belt around her middle then put her hands behind her back and stood passively as James fitted leather cuffs on her wrists and locked them together.

  “I don’t need hobbles, darling,” she reminded him as he crouched down in front of her. “I haven’t worn them for ages.”

  He smiled up at her, “Ah, but that was your old owner. I’m the new owner you wanted, don’t forget.” He locked the hobbles above her knees, linking them together with chain.

  Ellie frowned and tested her limited freedom of movement. “That’s a bit short, darling.”

  “It’s the same length as hers,” James told her calmly. “You’ll manage.”

  She looked at her hobble, then looked at him dubiously. “Hmm. OK, I’ll do my best,” she said, licking her lips nervously.

  He lifted her bit and she opened her mouth as he inserted the steel bar and buckled the straps tightly around her head, then led her to the carriage and harnessed her between the right hand pair of shafts, alongside Hazel and fitted her reins.

  “Very nice,” he said as he inspected his two silenced and helpless pony-girls, then went to Hazel and loosened her bearing-rein just enough to enable her to ease the tension of her neck.

  Then he went over to the wall, selected a second bearing-rein and approached Ellie, whose eyes widened in dismay as he spoke to her. “That really was an excellent idea of yours, my love. Bearing-reins are just the thing to encourage a suitably obedient and willing state of mind in a pony-girl. Or even two pony-girls.”

  Ellie shook her head firmly, unable to voice a protest because of the bit in her mouth and had to content herself with glaring at him impotently.

  “So I have decided to act on your suggestion, Ellie and use them on both of you. After all, I have harnessed you as a pair, so it seems only fair that you should be equally handicapped,” he chuckled softly, turning to Hazel. “Don’t you agree, pony-girl?”

  As he was well aware, Hazel couldn’t reply or even nod her head to signal her approval, but her eyes gleamed with delighted glee as the tables were turned on the hapless blonde.

  It served Ellie right, she considered, for coming up with the idea of bearing-reins in the first place.

  Because of her, Hazel had to put up with wearing one of the awful things and if she had to, she didn’t see why the blonde should have life any easier.

  James was quite right; they were both pony-girls now, equal in their enforced obedience to the whip and reins held by their driver and if Ellie hadn’t been prepared to accept whatever he chose to do to her, then she shouldn’t have volunteered.

  Ellie obviously didn’t see things in quite the same light, her eyes glinting with frustrated anger and her wrists twisting in her leather cuffs as she tried to reach the chains coupling her waist belt to the shafts of the carriage.

  “Uh-uh, pony-girl. Naughty, naughty,” James chided. “I think I’d better put those fingers of yours well away from temptation,” he said as he clipped the bearing-rein to her cuffs.

  Then, to Hazel’s amusement and Ellie’s despair, he pulled the cuffs high up her back and clipped the other end of the bearing-rein to the ring on her head harness, holding her wrists in a double hammer-lock between her shoulder-blades and forcing her to arch her neck backwards.

  The unkind, but quite understandable, pleasure that Hazel took in seeing the blonde fall victim to her own cleverness in suggesting the use of a bearing-rein as a disciplinary and training measure, lasted only until James re-tightened her own bearing-rein, making her assume the same exaggerated head-back posture as Ellie.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Hazel could just see Ellie’s uptilted face, the end of her steel bit protruding from between her lips and the almost arrogant thrusts of her full breasts as they strained against the maroon leather of her basque and could, almost, feel sympathy for the cruelly deceived blonde.

  Almost, but not quite, for Hazel’s own body was no less helpless and her sympathy was reserved for her own unenviable plight.

  James took up a stance in front of his no-longer-equal partner and Ellie squealed, dancing from foot to foot as he cupped her breasts in his hands and toyed with her nipples until they grew rock hard and threatened to burst through the leather of her basque.

  With a smug grin on his lips, James took his fingers away and turned his attention to Hazel, his grin widening as Ellie groaned in frustration and disappointment.

  Hazel’s breasts, nakedly presented by her bondage, were an even easier target than Ellie’s, her slave-trained responses even quicker and he chuckled as her nipples stood to rigid attention and her body shuddered uncontrollably at his every touch.

  Satisfied, he strode to the double doors and threw them wide, then returned to where both aroused pony-girls could see him clearly.

  “You,” he said, pointing to Hazel, “Have no choice but to be a pony-girl.”

  “You,” he pointed to Ellie, “Did have a choice whether to be a pony-girl...but not any more.”

  He strode to the carriage and climbed onto the seat, taking a firm grip of the four reins in his left hand and the long, flexible carriage whip in his right.

  He slapped the reins on the bare shoulders of his two ponies in the signal to walk and at the same time, flicked his whip expertly, backhand and forehand, across their defenceless rumps.

  Stung into motion, Hazel and Ellie flung their weight against the shafts.

  Unfortunately, however, not together, or in step and the carriage jerked rather than rolling smoothly.

  “Halt!” James’ displeasure manifested itself in the barked command, the painful tug of reins at soft mouths and the two stinging whip cuts that burned into each pony’s bottom.

  Ellie gave a stifled yelp as heat flared, but Hazel managed to limit her own reaction to a breathy gasp and felt ridiculously proud that she had shown more self-control than the blonde had been able to display.

  “We will try that again,” James said coldly. “And this time, get it right. Left foot first and keep in step, or we will do it as many times as necessary until you do. I have all day and my whip will not get tired, so I strongly suggest you concentrate.”

  The whip hissed out, curling around Ellie’s naked right thigh and she squealed again as it bit at her smooth flesh and he snapped, “Ellie. You are the experienced pony-girl, so adjust your pace to Hazel’s. Now, walk on.”

  For the second time, the carriage rolled forward, both pony-girls concentrating intently on keeping their paces even and rhythmical...and avoiding further punishment.

  James drove them out of the stable and onto the paved pathway, then turned them to the right with light pressure on the bits in their mouths.

  With a skill born of long practise, he turned them this way and that, even in circles, letting them grow accustomed to his driving technique and to working together as a pair, until they functio
ned as a single unit, wheeling and turning in response to the commands of their reins without losing step.

  Apart from the discomfort of the bearing-rein, Hazel found the experience rather pleasurable and almost relaxing, her mind and body working in perfect harmony and required only to obey unthinkingly.

  A little too unthinkingly, for without her noticing, her knees failed to lift as high as they were supposed to.

  But James noticed...and took immediate action to remedy her fault.

  Hazel squealed as his whip cracked across her left buttock and brought her mind back to her duties, but for a second couldn’t think why she had been struck.

  A second was too long to keep a driver waiting and his whip painted a matching hot stripe on her right buttock just as she worked out what she had done wrong.

  It was a salutary reminder to her to keep her mind on work and Hazel took the lesson to heart, her inflamed bottom smarting as she high-stepped onwards.

  “Team, prepare to trot,” he called out, “Ready...now.”

  With barely a hitch the two pony-girls, his team, broke into the faster pace, legs in perfect unison, bodies angling forward slightly as the speed increased, breasts jiggling just enough to be arousing as they responded to the reins.

  He drove them at a good clip away from the hotel and Hazel felt the first stirrings of unease as she looked ahead and saw the track stretching away into the distance.

  Her legs felt fine and she was breathing easily despite the handicaps of her bit and the bearing-rein, but she had no idea how far he proposed to make them pull him and couldn’t help wondering if she was fit enough.

  “Team, prepare to canter. Ready...now.”

  The carriage surged forward as the women stretched their legs into the canter and James laughed aloud with the sheer exultation of bending the two harnessed, bitted, near-naked pony-girls to his will, their slim calves pumping and rounded buttocks swaying enticingly in helpless obedience to the merest flick of his fingers.

  As she ran, Hazel’s nostrils flared widely to suck gulps of air into her lungs and she gave a soft whimper as her legs began to feel the effects of her exertions.