Jenny could only nod mutely in response, but the incident had shaken her, not least due to the head-patting and his 'good girl' comment. She didn't get too long to drown in her sorrows, though, because Daniel, aware they were now lagging behind Hetty by some considerable margin, had already started pulling afresh on her leash.
'Take long strides and short breaths, Petal. You'll soon get used to it.'
Jenny was not at all convinced, but at least she had no more near-fainting incidents to contend with. The short journey to the paddock was accomplished in silence, some of which was enforced and some of which was not. Jenny barely noticed the lack of her voice, too intent was she on staring in fascination upon Hetty's backside. Her sizeable ass had more bounce than that of a trampoline and it was quite a sight to behold.
All too soon cobblestones turned to wet grass and a herd of pony girls and trainers could be spotted not far off in the distance. Jenny was frantically listening for the sound of jet engines, a siren, an alarm or anything that might indicate imminent rescue. All she heard were a few excitable nickers and whinnies. She had to reassure herself, for the umpteenth time, that they were in Lincolnshire and not on the planet Mars. Rescue would come. She would just need to be patient.
Arriving at the paddock Jenny's stiff, enforced posture made it difficult to look around. She had a view straight in front of her of several leather-bound pony girls, the strapping which varied in colour and hue from white through to black, with many rainbow shades in between. What did it all mean? Not that she would be here long enough to worry about it, but she was curious. What did these ponies do all day?
Hitching her to the end of a sturdy wooden post, where a row of human ponies were already tied, Daniel patted her backside before moving away to help Hetty. The sharp words Jenny would have loved to lavish upon him were firmly staunched by her effective tack, and the slap she would have administered instead was also impossible to deliver. With few options left, she gave an almighty stomp with one of her heavy metal hooves and was rewarded with a very unsatisfying squelch. No one had taken the least bit of notice to her antics as most of the ponies were doing exactly the same thing, although it appeared they were simply keeping warm in the cool morning air. Ignoring the long line of drool forming from the corner of her lips, Jenny decided to do something useful and take a look around.
The paddock was covered with brightly coloured carts and looked like it could be the start of a Roman chariot race. Each cart had a couple of items of luggage placed in a plastic well at the rear, with the exception of the cart Daniel was loading up. He was trying to squeeze all eight of her suitcases into a space not suitable for half the amount. That was not the only dissimilarity. All of the other carts contained lightweight cloth suitcases or bags, whereas hers were all made of heavy leather and brass. After Daniel had finished loading it up, the two pneumatic rubber tyres of the cart embedded themselves into the soft ground in protest at their load.
'Right ho, must dash,' said Hetty, who looked like a giant ice statue that had been left out in the midday sun. Trails of sweat ran down her forehead, her hair was stuck to her face and her white blouse was beginning to take on a dangerously transparent appearance. Having regained her breath she began furiously rummaging around in her cleavage. Finally locating what she sought, she pulled out an almighty white hankie and began dabbing gently at her forehead. Then, giving two thumbs up to Daniel and a discreet wink at Jenny, she picked up her wheelbarrow and marched smartly away.
'Attention ponies, eyes front,' said a stern voice which commanded attention. All the ponies did as they were told, even Jenny, who was far too full of curiosity to disobey. The gentleman who had addressed them wore thick blue jeans, a crisp black shirt and a pair of riding boots. His thin, angular face wore a frown and judging by the wrinkles on his forehead, it was a permanent feature. He had greying hair which was shaved closed to his head to conceal a receding hairline, and not an inch of spare flesh anywhere on his body. He looked mean. 'I'd like to introduce everyone to our newest pony, Pretty Pink Petals,' he said, and indicated her with a sweep of his hand. Jenny winced as the name was uttered out loud. 'As that's a bit of a mouthful, I'm going to call her "P" for short.'
There were a few sniggers in the paddock from ponies fortunate enough to be able to utter the sound. Jenny decided she didn't think much of Mr Black Shirt. He continued, 'P is a very special horse who had the privilege of wearing the golden egg last night. For those of you who don't know what a golden egg is please ask a neigh-bour - pun intended.' Mr Black Shirt looked thoroughly pleased with himself. 'Unfortunately, P has already heaped shame upon herself, as she failed miserably in her simple task and has earned the herd a group punishment.'
The expression on his face indicated that he was not displeased with this outcome of events. There was a collective groan around the yard and some anxious hoof stomping. A curious excitement resided in his eyes and when the herd saw it they became nervous. Several eyes flickered in Jenny's direction, and the look they gave her was not a friendly one.
'However, being a fair and honourable Dom,' he said, and his voice indicated he was anything but, 'I'm willing to give you a fighting chance to avoid having to pick your own supplies for this evening's supper.' He paused for effect and watched as the ponies visibly relaxed. He knew the worst they expected was a bit of blackberry or gooseberry picking. Raising his voice he smiled evilly and said, 'Nettle soup should be a nutritious treat for all concerned.'
If the fifty or so ponies, lined up neatly on the wooden hitching post, could have dropped their jaws in panic, there was little doubt they would have. There was only one kind of nettle that grew in the fields of Albrecht and it was that commonly known as: the stinging nettle. It quickly dawned on the pony girls that this punishment was one that could quite possibly hurt more than a good caning, and any chance to escape it should be embraced with four hooves.
'I see everyone's ears have pricked up,' said Mr Black Shirt, who nodded to himself. 'Well, horsies, if you don't think much of nettles, here is your challenge. All of your grooms have been presented with a "magic wand". Most of you will be on familiar terms with the implement, but for those who are not, let's just say it is an intense vibration unit. What you need to do, ponies, is withstand this instrument of forceful pleasure for just five minutes. If you manage to withhold your orgasm, congratulations, you get to play in the paddock while your friends gather nettles with their teeth. There's nothing like a little post-breakfast boric acid to destroy your taste buds, I hear. Just in case you weren't fully aware of what the delights of picking nettles will do to your mouth, let me hasten to assure you that whilst there will be no permanent damage, the onset of facial paralysis, otherwise known in the nettle munching industry as "green bearding", is a very real possibility. So if you want my advice, I'd suggest you employ any means you can to avoid this particular task. Failure will, of course, deliver you into the confines of the fallow field beyond and an hour or two of nettle harvesting with my whip hand as added encouragement.' He nodded to the grooms, who immediately began the business of unearthing their respective wands.
Jenny watched as Daniel rummaged around in his satchel and brought out what looked like a giant vibrator. It was made of bright white plastic and didn't look particularly threatening. Like every other female on the planet, she owned a rabbit at home and could easily withstand five minutes of that upon her clitoris, so it didn't appear there was much to worry about, other than how to keep warm. While Black Shirt was talking the other ponies had kept their hooves firmly on the ground and Jenny had sensibly decided to do the same. As soon as he had stopped talking the hooves immediately started stomping in earnest, and Jenny's were almost jogging on the spot in her efforts to keep warm. The sun refused to break through the thick cover of cloud above and because it was still early, the outdoor temperature had not really had a chance to rise.
'Grooms, you have thirty seconds to prepare yourselves.' Mr Black Shirt had a digital stopwatch in his hand
and his finger was poised above the start button. Counting down from ten, the air was soon rife with the sound of whirring motors. Jenny watched as most of the girls closed their legs tightly together. She wondered why they were all taking this challenge so seriously. Did they all have hair triggers when it came to orgasming? Keeping her legs shoulder-width apart, she gave Daniel a look of disdain and encouraged him to do his worst.
'Three, two, one, go!' No sooner had the words left Black Shirt's mouth than the wand appeared on Jenny's clit. It didn't take her long to realise that this device was not really another version of the rabbit. A wand was a vibrator on steroids. She could feel the vibrations pulsing through the leather strapping fed between her labia and the waves continued up to the base of her groin. To say that they were intense was an understatement of the grandest proportions. Her whole nether region appeared to be shaking. Snapping her legs closed to give her groom as little access as possible to her sensitive clitoris, and finally taking heed of her fellows, at first she was hard pressed to discern whether the powerful pulsations of the wand were painful or pleasurable, but it didn't take long for her to discover that five minutes was going to be a very long time.
Sir Ranulph Lyle contained his smile as he watched the ponies twitch this way and that, as if they all had some impossible itch to scratch. He supposed, in a manner of speaking, they had. With only their legs of any use to them in the avoidance of the buzzing wand, they could angle their body in different directions, but as all of them were securely tied to a thick wooden post by either their bridle or collar, none were able to escape the incessant vibrations that continued to plague them. Little did they know, but their grooms were under a considerable amount of pressure to deliver up their orgasms. Each had already been warned that a flogging would be issued to them, should they fail in their duty. Sir Lyle fingered the black leather flogger currently residing in his pocket. Running his fingers over the soft fronds he was anticipating its use with an eagerness born of three weeks' vanilla vacation time, which had been insisted upon by his equally vanilla wife. The break, even though on the delightful island of Mauritius, had nearly driven him criminally insane by its end. Thankfully he'd taken an extra week off work (unbeknownst to his wife) to catch up on some nubile bottom spanking before he had to return to his seat in the House of Lords. So eager was he to start the flogging procedures he had made sure this morning's little game gave him a double dose to get back into practise. The errant grooms who failed in their task would receive a nicely reddened backside and then he was on nettle patrol, where his hands - he was ambidextrous and could use both left and right - would make sure that anyone not pulling out their fair share of the green stuff came out with a blisteringly sore bottom. It was a beautiful day indeed, even though it wasn't.
Jenny was beginning to feel as if she had entered the World's Greatest Disco Dancer contest. Her hips were bouncing off the girls to the left and right of her, while her breasts bobbed up and down in time to the nonexistent beat. The nipple clamps she wore had begun to jingle furiously. She judged that no more than two minutes of time had elapsed but already her previously chilled-to-the-bone flesh was starting to warm up nicely under the wand's carefully directed pulsations. She had no choice but to take Mr Black Shirt's threats seriously, and as she had no idea when rescue would arrive, she decided to play the game. Five minutes wasn't really that long, anyway. They'd be at least halfway by now.
'One minute has elapsed, Grooms.' Black Shirt's strident voice had no trouble breaking through the girls' jingle bell chorus.
Time was supposed to fly when having fun. Whoever had said that, had obviously never been a pony girl at Albrecht Stables. Jenny's dark thoughts did nothing to slow the quickening of her body. Squirm as she might she could not elude the slippery instrument of pleasure in Daniel's hands and the wetter she became, the easier it was for him to wield. He ran it up and down her clit, pressed it against the end of the fat dildo in her pussy and then teased it around the edge of her tail. The sensations it produced were indescribable. Jenny's toes began to curl as the buzzing seemed to take on a life of its own and move throughout her body. The ease with which he brought her to the edge of an orgasm was shocking.
'Just two minutes left, all.' A few seconds after Sir Lyle had spoken the first pony succumbed to the power of the wand. Shrieking through her bit, while her body tried to dislocate a few limbs by thrashing out in earnest, she finally slumped against the hitching post, breathing heavily. Her eyes bore the dark and hollow look of defeat. It didn't take long for her to be joined by several others of the herd. The sounds of pleasure seemed to multiply rapidly throughout the line until just about everyone in the paddock was screaming. Those that weren't were almost crying.
Jenny was trying to avoid being whipped by the two pony girls on either side of her. Their tales were flying about and striking her thighs, one after the other. They produced quite a sting on an already very pink backside. It was interfering with her intense concentration as she fought to prevent her impending explosion.
'One minute.'
The words seemed to propel Daniel into a frenzied kind of action and he began twisting and pumping the plugs buried inside her, while the pressure he applied to the wand was so hard it was as if he were trying to force it out of the other side of her body. Jenny knew the point of no return was swiftly approaching and there was little she could do to avoid it. Daniel clamped an arm around her waist, pinioning her in a static position so the vibrator could work more effectively. So hard was Jenny trying to avoid the inevitable that her teeth were trying to bite through the rubber of her bit. Her arms were battling for escape inside the arm-binder and her head was shaking in denial, as if that might help her fight the treacherous trembling taking over her body.
'Thirty seconds to go and only seven ponies left in the game.'
Daniel started to curse the fates that had ever introduced him to Pretty Pink Petals. Short of pulling his pants down and going deep and dirty with her on the grass, he was at a loss of what more he could do to make her cream. As another two ponies began to writhe and moan he could only hope they spurred Petal on to give herself up. If they didn't, he was in trouble.
Jenny was crying with the effort it took to hold her body back. She could feel tears rolling down her face as her body bucked beneath Daniel's hands. Her whole being was shaking with a force that would have loved nothing less than complete surrender. It was sheer force of will that held her back from release; nothing more and nothing less.
'Time's up.' Sir Ranulph surveyed the area of panting, pitiful bodies and gazed upon them with contempt. Why did such a simple task always yield such dismal results? It never ceased to amaze him how weak the female sex was. From the look of things just five pony girls had managed to make it past the five minute mark and all were openly crying. How pathetic. Only the new horses could be forgiven, as they had yet to be trained in the art of orgasm denial. Scraping a clod of mud off his riding boots he named each pony that had successfully passed his test.
'So, it seems that Beauty, CD, Red, Asscheeks and... oh my goodness. It can't be. Is that P? Has she orgasmed, Daniel?' The expression on Jenny's face and her body's juddering movements should have been enough to confirm that she had most definitely not climaxed. The reason Sir Lyle was perplexed was because no other pony girl initiate had ever managed to withstand a three minute forced orgasm with the wand, let alone five. When Daniel shook his head Sir Lyle drew in his breath, but quickly recovered his composure.
'Where was I? Ah, yes, Beauty, CD, Red, Asscheeks and P have managed to avoid nettle munching duty. They will have the honour of watching their utterly useless grooms get their backsides reddened by my flogger, after our next group exercise has finished.' He clapped his hands together, and as his scarily large eyes goggled about in his head, the look he gave was akin to that of a mad professor. 'The seasoned ponies may now trot off to the exercise yard for a spin on the hot walkers, whilst the new ponies will remain here with me. We've got som
ething special planned for your second day at Albrecht, my little fillies. Hands up, who'd like to earn their yellow collar?'
Jenny was not amused and the other initiates, who were similarly restrained, did not think much of his sense of humour either for several whispered groans ensued. The volume of their groans was carefully measured, however. None were willing to risk the displeasure of this particular Master; not on the second day of their, hopefully, very illustrious career at Albrecht.
While the grooms busied themselves with unhitching their charges, Mr Black Shirt continued to explain the next activity with vigorous arm movements and plenty of gestures. Jenny was barely paying attention to his continued rambling. It had to be said, she was feeling ridiculously relieved that she would not be required to harvest stinging nettles with her mouth, but his next sentence had her paying attention.
'You will be required to run two laps around the perimeter fence without pause before picking one of our delightful pony boys to fellate. Your task will only be complete if the pony boy climaxes in your mouth, and you will need to retain the evidence of your task until such time as it can be checked by me. You should note that each pony boy will have climaxed at least three times this morning already, and that his Mistress/Master will be accompanying him to discourage his orgasm by any particular fashion they deem necessary.' Mr Black Shirt dragged his gaze from one girl to the next. 'There are a couple of things you should know. You'll have just ten minutes to complete your task and failure will result with your presence on team nettle, if you haven't already signed up.' He smiled. 'Are there any questions?' Chuckling to himself, he nodded to the grooms to indicate they should begin unhitching their charges and lining them up to race.
Named and Shamed: Pony girl training begins... (Pony Tales Book 4) Page 10