The room beyond was small and dark. It didn't bode well. Searching around for a light switch she found a cord dangling beside the door. Her teeth were going to get quite a workout today! Gripping the cord between her molars she tugged and heard a click. Bright light flooded the room. Knowing she had little time to waste she focused her attention, looking for an exit or anything that might pass as one, such as a ventilation shaft, heating vent or window. There was nothing. The room had a linoleum floor, plenty of shelves, lots of sex toys and absolutely nothing that would be of the slightest use in an escape attempt. Cursing, she slammed her back against the wall in anger and watched as dildo's rained down around her. The sound of shattering glass filled the air.
'Well, what have we here, Agnes?'
Jenny spun around, only to discover that the two old ladies who had performed her internal exam yesterday were casually watching her antics from the open door. They held in their hands a white leather corset, a bridle and a fat butt plug complete with a tail.
'No,' whispered Jenny. 'No, no, no.'
Visibly shaking, well aware of the fate about to befall her, she made to run. Barrelling straight through Agnes and Hetty she used her body to give one last sideways swipe at the sturdy wooden panels of the main door. Her body bounced back from the effort and landed in a sprawled heap on the floor. Out of options, she pounded her metal hooves into the floorboards in the manner of a three year old having a gigantic temper tantrum.
'Now this simply won't do,' said Henrietta in a clipped voice. 'You've already been in trouble today by several accounts, and Daniel is clearly traumatised. Whether you want to be here or not, none of what we do here is 'negotiable', and if you continue on the track you're heading down you'll be spending most of your time down in the dungeon. Your behaviour doesn't just reflect badly on yourself; it will affect everyone who comes into contact with you.
Jenny refused to acknowledge a word Henrietta was saying. It was all lies. She desperately wanted to put her hands over her ears, but they remained immobile in their hot and sweaty mitts. She growled. If they were trying to break her it wouldn't work. They could send her for a weeklong vacation in the dungeon and see where that got them! She would not be cowed like this. She would not!
The two ladies shook their heads and each hooked an elbow under Jenny's shoulders, dragging her upright and grunting as they did so. The little vixen was trying to kick out and swing her arms around, but they'd both seen all of this before and knew where to stand to avoid any nasty blows.
'Watch those boots, Aggie,' Hetty cautioned.
The metal horseshoes the ponies wore delivered the meanest bruises, and Hetty knew this from experience. Sidestepping carefully around the kicking beast and giving her a wide berth, they managed to move her to the middle of the room, where there were two metal chains dangling from the ceiling. The chains were efficiently clipped to the D-rings on both the front and rear of her collar and winched upright by a pulley system. There was no way she could fight the pressure upon her neck. It was a very effective way of keeping her upright and on her toes. Wrenching her legs apart, with two hands apiece on each, they fastened leather ankle cuffs over the boots, and these were attached to metal eyelets in the floor.
When they were finished Aggie pulled herself back up from the floor with a groan and a hand in the small of her back for support. Her face wore a pained look. Wiping a hand over her brow she said, 'I'm getting too old for these shenanigans. That's it, Hetty, I'm handing in my notice tomorrow. I don't think I can take any more of this.' Rubbing the sore spot on her back with the tips of her gnarled fingers, her brow furrowed. 'I wonder where I put that tube of Deep Heat? I think I'm going to need it.'
'Rubbish,' said Hetty, waving her hand in the air as if to pooh-pooh Agnes' sentiments entirely. 'This one is destined to wear the black. Haven't you heard about her egg? If you leave now you'll forfeit your bonus, and retiring in St Tropez with a herd of toy-boys is an expensive business. After she's got that black feather in her headdress you'll be in demand.'
'All the more reason to retire now,' Agnes grumbled.
'How about you stay and I'll offer to rub your back when we've finished up here?' There was a devilish glint in Hetty's eye.
'Hmph. It's tempting, but I could do with that muscle rub right now.'
Hetty's lips twitched. 'You'll have to wait on that one I'm afraid, dear. I've been using it on a couple of naughty pony boys down at the stables. If you put the stuff in the right place you can have almost total submission in less than thirty seconds.'
Agnes slapped her hand to her forehead and gave Hetty a filthy look. 'That was my own personal tube, Henrietta, and I bought it for a reason.'
Henrietta scrunched her face up in apology and tugged on one of her unruly red curls. 'Sorry. I can run and get it now for you, if you like?'
'No, thank you. I think I'd rather go and buy myself a new tube. I can only imagine where you've been putting that stuff.' She sighed. 'Let's get on with this first and then you can make it up to me.'
Agnes returned her attention to the jumble of tack that they'd both managed to heap upon the metal trolley. Untangling the leather corset first she handed it to Hetty, who immediately brought it up to her nose and inhaled deeply. 'Mmm, leather,' she said, with an almost religious undertone. There was a snort in the background. Hetty ignored it.
Turning her attention back to Jenny she said, 'Well, dearie, it's time to get you laced into this beauty. I'm not going to lie to you, it'll take a bit of getting used to, but oh my, you're going to have a waist to die for!' Hetty held the corset up for the trainee's perusal.
Jenny's silence had not been accidental. Locked securely in place and about to be rendered virtually helpless with all the additional accoutrements the ladies were now sorting through, she was trying to stay calm. If she started screaming or squawking the chances were that they would do exactly as they had the last time and gag her. So she figured she had one chance, and one chance only, to make the use of her voice count. Threats were of little use to her; she'd already tried them to no avail. That left bribery and by their earlier conversation, she hoped she'd have half a chance. She thought about how much she should offer in order to buy their cooperation, and in the end she figured it was best to go high. She would offer them two million pounds each. Her father would have that kind of money at his disposal and while daddy dearest would be livid at the thought of having to part with that kind of cash, he might be persuaded to eventually, if only to keep up appearances. He liked to drag her along to charitable events and political functions, to prove he was a family man, of course. There was little love lost between them. He had put paid to that over a decade ago.
The white leather corset danced before her eyes. It was finely boned, in intervals of approximately one inch, and the white metal eyelets at the rear of the garment suggested that either rope or ribbon would be required to lace it, depending on how tightly it would need to be fastened. In contrast, it was outlined with black piping and featured a swirling, looping design of what appeared to be a Celtic pattern in origin. Whilst Jenny could admire the beauty of the garment, it looked about three sizes too small. There was no way the thing was going to fit.
Jenny's approval wasn't required because a few seconds later Hetty began to wrap the cold material over her stomach, letting it unfurl slowly around her back. There was a good four inches of bare skin left between the corset's edges and Jenny had to resist the urge to smile smugly.
'I'm going to need another set of hands to fasten this beast,' called Hetty, but Agnes was already there with two coiled lengths of thin white rope in her hands. She began threading it through the eyelets, crossing them over each other with rapid dexterity for a woman of her age, until all the eyelets had been filled. She left the rope tails trailing down Jenny's buttocks.
'Hetty, you're going to have to pull today. My back won't take any more punishment.' Agnes moved back to allow her stocky colleague to get a firm grip on both ends of the rope.
'Brace yourself,' Agnes said to Jenny, but her charge had obviously not paid her any heed because when Hetty used all her strength to tug ferociously on the cords, it felt like someone had bounced her stomach across the room, and she made a gurgling sound of shocked protest. Alas, the Victorian torture had only just begun. Hetty began tightening the ropes at each pair of eyelets until Jenny could feel the individual bones of the corset pressing into her flesh.
Agnes had positioned herself in front of the pony, admiring the shape her waist was beginning to take. 'Hetty will give you the most amazing hourglass figure in no time at all. There's not a matron in this stable that can lace a corset tighter than our dear Hetty.'
Henrietta snorted, but Jenny was not of a mind to doubt Agnes' words because a knee had been sunk into her back and the ropes had now begun to rob her of the ability to breathe. Her ribcage was not at all happy. Were they trying to kill her? Surely there were simpler ways?
Agnes continued chattering, completely oblivious to Jenny's acute discomfort. 'In Victorian England the ladies were trying to get their breasts to resemble 'rising moons', and they were laced to within an inch of their life. Agnes took hold of her own set of frighteningly large moons and pushed them upward and together in demonstration. Her newest filly did not know where to look. 'Ribs were bruised, bones were broken and flesh was torn. It was a sorry state of affairs. But we're very careful about the health of our fillies here at Albrecht, aren't we Hetty?'
Hetty mumbled something that sounded like an affirmative. The words 'bloody bad backs', 'lightweight' and 'need to buy me a drink' were also being said at intervals in a strangulated kind of hiss.
Agnes kept going. 'That corset you're being fitted in is going to be a permanent addition to your body until you've managed to achieve a twenty-five inch waist, at the very least. The smaller the waist the more valuable the pony, so you'll need to get used to sleeping in your corset for the foreseeable future. The laces will not be released for anything other than health reasons or the need to fit a new corset with tighter specifications.'
Jenny wished Agnes would stop prattling on. She didn't need to hear any of this as she wouldn't be in the stables long enough for their nonsense to materialise. Realising that she'd need to speak now, preferably while there was still some semblance of air in her body if she wanted to employ her bribery tactics, she cleared her throat. Squeaking as loud as her lungs would allow she managed, 'What would you ladies think if you suddenly had two million pounds in your bank account?' The last word was several octaves higher than it should have been, due to the vicious tug Henrietta gave on the laces.
Henrietta turned her head around and frowned at Agnes. Her knee was still pressed firmly into Jenny's back, and standing on one leg was always a bit precarious when you were a woman of her particular size and stature. 'Have you got her bridle ready, Aggie?'
'Oh, Hetty,' Agnes was trying, unsuccessfully, to suppress a giggle. 'Aren't you at least going to listen to what she's got to say? This will be her last chance to speak for a little while.' There was the sound of leather flapping against a hard surface and a few swear words before Agnes finally managed to add, 'Found them!'
'No. I'm bored of bribery attempts and don't you mean, found it?' Henrietta gave another almighty shove into Jenny's back and Jenny had to shelve her attempt at speaking for at least the next few seconds.
'No, found them: my glasses.' She placed the pair of gold spectacles on her nose, wiggled it and blinked her eyes a few times. 'Now I can work on untangling her bridle.'
Jenny realised time was running out for her. Agnes was perhaps a minute away from gagging her permanently. She needed to get a move on.
'Let's say five million each, then. Just think what you could do with that kind of muh... muh... money...' The last word was a mere whisper. Jenny's body felt like a balloon, right after someone had taken a pin to it.
'Got it.' Agnes held up the bit and bridle and looked very pleased with herself.
'Then for God's sake fit the damn thing. Have you attached the tongue-port? Daniel informed me that Mr A has already requested she be fitted with one. Good job you ordered it.'
'I know my fillies.' Agnes concentrated on attaching a short rectangle of solid rubber around the bit. It would keep Jenny's tongue depressed while she was bridled and the trainee would have no choice but to give up the ridiculous nonsense of trying to talk at every opportunity.
Agnes quietly pulled herself upright and came to stand at the back of the Jenny's head, the bit ready in her hand. 'How much did you say you were willing to offer again?'
'Five mill...' Jenny could not finish her sentence. Agnes had efficiently slotted in the bit, complete with tongue-depressor, and she was now fitting Jenny's bridle with smart and efficient clicks and snaps. Jenny began squawking and rattling her head as far as the chains that bound her would allow. It had little effect. She was, as far as speech was concerned, silenced.
Hetty, with a last gargantuan effort, had finally finished tying the corset in place and was knotting the ends securely. When she had finished she cut the remainder of the rope away with a penknife.
'Just for your information, it would be more than our lives are worth to accept bribes. So if you are given the chance to speak, and ponies rarely are, make sure you put your voice to better use.'
Jenny tried to say something in response and was horrified when all that came out of her mouth was a muffled mess.
'Don't bother trying to talk. The tongue-port will ensure that all intelligible speech is a thing of the past,' said Hetty. 'It's a bit mean for a new pony, but by all accounts you've earned it. The biggest downside to wearing one is the drool. You're going to be dribbling like a baby for the next few weeks and it'll be thirsty work. Your trainer will be made aware that they're to carry a bottle of water or have you near a drinking trough at regular intervals, so don't worry.'
Don't worry? No, she was just peachy, thanks. She had a mouthful of rubber, could barely swallow and was unable to talk. And that wasn't all. There was her corseted waist, a stomach that was under more pressure than Mount Vesuvius just before an eruption, and the fact that these ladies weren't finished by a long shot, judging by the jumble of stuff left on the table. The first real building block of fear was now beginning to establish a foundation inside Jenny, and at the rate it was beginning to increase it wouldn't be long before a reasonably sized four bedroom house was built.
'Clamps, please.' Agnes held her left hand out and waited for Hetty to place the twin devices in her palm. With her right hand she used her thumb and forefinger in a pincer grip to plump both of Jenny's nipples, until they were standing to attention. Using the tips of her nails she continued the pincer movement, elongating each nub further. 'For now you'll just wear individual clamps, which will exert enough pressure to keep your nipples erect at all times but won't actually cause too much discomfort, bar their tinkling bells, perhaps. Depending on your behaviour and your Master's whims, you may find these clamps tightened, have a chain threaded between them or weights attached. All you need to know for now is that clamps or no clamps, your nipples need to stand to attention at all times and that is usually managed by keeping you constantly aroused. Sometimes, if your libido proves difficult, the vet may give a shot of oxytocin to kick-start the process. When you have completed your training you may find that even when the clamps have been removed your nipples will remain in a permanently erect state. It is a trait which is highly-prized in a pony girl, so expect your teats to be worked over several times a day.'
Agnes positioned both clamps on the trainee's beautifully erect buttons and released them simultaneously. The bells tinkled prettily, but a wizened finger gave them an extra flick for good measure. Jenny groaned.
'Beautiful. I think we'll go with the arm-binder next, Hetty.'
An arm-binder? What on earth was one of those when it was at home? As all the action was going on behind her Jenny had no idea of what to expect. She felt the karabiner between her mittens
being unclipped and each glove was slowly worked free, releasing two clammy hands sticky with sweat. Hetty pinned her arms to her body, whilst Agnes began to thread her hands through a sleeve of thick material. It had to be leather. It seemed to be the material of choice around here. The sleeve snaked over her wrists and elbows and continued until it reached the height of her biceps. Two straps at the top of the sleeve were then crisscrossed over her collarbone in halter-neck fashion and buckled over her shoulder blades. It was uncomfortable, like just about every other piece of equipment she had been forced to wear, and it immobilised her arms, fingers and thumbs until they were rendered completely useless. It appeared that ponies didn't use their hands very often.
'Oh! Look at that posture,' said Agnes, tilting her head to one side and examining her charge. She smiled at Jenny. 'You may not think so now, but you'll thank me later. That piece of leather will ensure that your shoulders remain elegantly high and pulled back. It will also make your breasts appear larger and thrust them forward for anyone who may care to sample their charms.' Agnes sniffed. 'I do love it when they start to take shape, Hetty.'
Hetty crossed her eyes and shook her head, knowing full well that her friend could not see her as her back was towards Jenny. She had just sorted through all the leather webbing their trainee was required to wear and wheeled the trolley out in front so they could get started.
Named and Shamed: Pony girl training begins... (Pony Tales Book 4) Page 6