Without the use of her arms and with the posture collar clamping her neck stiffly, she found it surprisingly difficult to get her lips near the water.
The rim of the bowl kept getting in the way, her long hair constantly fell over her eyes and it certainly didn’t help to hear her Master chuckling at her efforts and warning her that if she spilled any of the water, she would be made to suck it up and then lick the floor dry.
After several fruitless attempts which nearly tipped the bowl over, Gabrielle finally managed to find a position which enabled her to succeed and her Master clapped his hands ironically as she managed to suck most of the water into her parched mouth.
It tasted heavenly and she felt a glow of pride as he congratulated her, “Well done, slave. I knew you could do it. Just as well, really, because most of your meals will be from that bowl while you’re being trained.”
Gabrielle’s pride in her achievement dimmed as she learned the bad news, but as that glow faded, a new and completely different glow warmed her belly. A glow of anticipation at the thought of being made to eat and drink in exactly the same way as a real pony for as long as her Master ordered.
“Yes, Master,” she replied softly as she gazed humbly up at the man she must obey and serve, “As my Master wishes.”
He stared down at her, his expression softening, “You seem to be really getting into this, slave,” he said quietly. “Perhaps I misjudged you. At this rate of progress it may not take as long as I expected to turn you into a fully trained slave and pony-girl.”
Gabrielle hesitated, then gave a tremulous smile, “I….I will do my best, Master,” she murmured softly. “And I do have a…a strong and skilful Master to teach me and…and correct my failings, Master.”
He grinned with pleasure, “Thank you, slave. I shall try not to disappoint you and will make quite certain that I correct any failings you may have. As often as necessary.”
He held her blue eyes with his own until her cheeks reddened and she was forced to drop her gaze from his.
Why, oh why, she wondered, had she mentioned having her ‘failings’ corrected? As if she wasn’t in enough trouble already, she had virtually asked him to punish her and as her belly coiled with slow, delicious heat, she knew that he would and realized that she wanted him to.
Her body began to tremble with a mixture of fear and excitement as she remembered the fiery caress of leather on her naked flanks and the way that seemingly-unbearable pain had suddenly changed to incredible, overwhelming ecstasy and masochistic lust at the first touch of her Master’s hand between her thighs. It had been more…vastly, wonderfully more…than she would have believed she could take and even now, hours later, as she gazed up into the dark pools of her Master’s eyes, she could almost feel the cruelly-sweet bite of his crop on her tautly stretched bottom and the merciless havoc his fingers had created in her sex and belly as he imposed his absolute dominance over her and subjugated her utterly to his will.
Gabrielle knew she wanted…needed…more…
Feeling her belly churn with swirling heat she was powerless to resist, Gabrielle slowly raised her head as much as she could and gazed humbly up at her Master, “Make it soon, Master,” she whispered softly. “Please, my Master, I beg to be trained to serve you in any way you command…and…and…to be p-p-punished if I am not fully pleasing.”
It was a quite astonishing request from one so new to slavery and in order to cover up his surprise, her Master coughed and then snapped, “Head down, slave, and be silent.”
For almost a full minute there was complete silence as both he and Gabrielle contemplated the implications of what she had just asked. She with a good deal of nervous trepidation about the future to which she had committed herself, and he with growing delight at the unexpected turn of events.
He had never doubted that she would, eventually, submit to her bondage and captivity, or he would never have chosen her in the first place. Nevertheless, the speed of her submission had taken him aback and he needed time to re-organize the time-scale of his plans for her.
He bent to release the chain tethering her to the floor ring and lifted her to her feet, putting a stern expression on his face.
“It is not for a slave to decide when and how she is to be trained and disciplined,” he told her firmly. “That is for her Master. Remain silent and follow, slave,” and he strode to a door at the far end of the room.
Fearing that she had somehow displeased him, Gabrielle stumbled across the room, her ankle hobble chain rattling on the polished wood as she hurried to his side.
He drew back two heavy bolts and pulled open the heavy door, “In, slave,” he ordered and Gabrielle obeyed, her heart pounding as she snatched a hasty glance at his unsmiling face.
Behind the door was a long, low room, its walls festooned with all manner of pony-girl harnesses and bondage equipment, but Gabrielle was given no time to dwell on the sight as her Master simply informed her, “This is the tack room, slave,” and hurried her through a second securely bolted door.
This led into a much smaller, windowless room and as Gabrielle walked in, she knew at once that this was to be her new ‘home’.
To her left were two square loose-boxes, much smaller but otherwise very similar to dozens that she had seen at every horse show she had ever attended, even down to the straw on the floor. The only additions to what she recognized were the vertical steel bars that rose from the floor to the low ceiling and formed the front and side walls and as she saw them, Gabrielle realized that her ‘home’ was also to be her prison. A prison whose inmate…her…would be in plain view at all times.
“Yours will be that one,” her Master pointed to the first stable, then gestured to the opposite wall. “The loo is in there,” and Gabrielle was relieved to see that it at least was enclosed and private.
“Shower there. Basic, but quite adequate and there’s shower gel on the floor,” he pointed again and she saw that it was merely a pipe with a shower-rose sticking out of the bare wall with, ominously, a large black iron hook set into the wall just below it.
He moved behind her, “Stand still, slave, and I’ll release your arms.”
As he slid the long zipper downwards, her ruthlessly tensioned elbows sprang apart and she moaned to the exquisite agony of pins-and-needles as he unbuckled the strap at her wrists and worked the reinforced bag off her hands.
Then it was the turn of the posture-collar, ankle and knee cuffs, high-heeled boots and finally, the basque.
Gabrielle was free for the first time in many, many hours.
Free…and totally naked.
Watching her carefully, her Master allowed her to work the stiffness from her aching body, then walked to the door and chuckled unfeelingly, “You’ll soon get used to it, slave. You’ll have to, won’t you? Right, you’ve got ten minutes to freshen up, then I’ll be back to tuck you into bed. Oh, and I’ll bring a towel back with me. Can’t think how I managed to forget that,” and his mocking laughter was punctuated by the closing door.
The instant it closed, Gabrielle dashed for the loo…
Feeling a lot happier, she emerged and hurried to the shower, desperate to clean off the accumulated sweat and sticky residue of her numerous climaxes and wash her hair. Below the shower was a single button and when she pressed it a deluge of heavenly warm water cascaded down on her as she rinsed herself and then moved away to lather the shower gel all over her hair and body as the button, seemingly on a timer, popped out and the flow of water stopped.
Covered from head to foot in creamy, sweet-smelling suds, she stood back under the shower and pressed the button. Nothing happened and she frowned and pressed again. Still nothing…and she heard an amused chuckle from behind her.
She whirled around and saw her Master smiling from the open door, a fluffy towel draped around his neck, “Having trouble, slave?”
She blushed and her hands flew to cover her breasts and sex. Then her blush deepened as she remembered that she had no secrets fr
om him. Not any more.
She let her hands drop to her sides and he frowned, “Is that how a slave displays her body to a Master?”
“No, Master,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry, Master,” and jerked her arms behind her back and spread her thighs.
“Better,” he nodded briefly. “Now, would you like to rinse all that gel off?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Then put these on. Here, catch.”
Steel glittered as it spun under the lights and clattered to the floor at her feet before she had time to react.
Gabrielle stared down at the handcuffs and was instantly aware of a familiar warmth percolating through her belly.
“Well,” her Master asked, “do you want to rinse, or not?”
Slowly, she bent down to pick up the open cuffs and snapped them onto her wrists, then turned and without hesitation stretched her body onto the tips of her toes and just succeeded in flicking the handcuffs’ six-inch linking chain over the hook set into the wall.
Facing the wall and with her suds-covered body drawn up to its full extent, she managed to turn her head and smile at her Master, “Your slave is ready to be rinsed now, Master.”
He smiled back, “Is she now? And what if I decide to leave you as you are, slave?”
Gabrielle grimaced, “Then your slave will have to stay here, un-rinsed, Master. The hook is too high for her to reach.”
“Yes, I know. I designed it that way. I’ve had a lot of work done in the last few weeks, slave and all of it carefully based on your size and height and weight.”
His answer confirmed everything that Gabrielle had suspected. No wonder the basque and collar and boots had fitted perfectly, they had been custom-made. Solely for her. What could she say? Except… “Thank you, Master. I hope I will be worth it.”
He grinned and moved towards her, “You already are, slave.”
Any answer that Gabrielle might have given was lost in her soft cries and whimpers of pleasure as his hands roamed unchecked over her soapy nudity, exploring her every curve and recess as she tugged vainly at her imprisoned wrists and her arousal surged ever higher. Until, as he thrust his fingers deep into her sex, Gabrielle gave a high-pitched scream and wailed, “Your slave is coming, Master. She’s coming. She’s coooommmming.” and her body juddered and bucked against his hand as she surrendered to the fire he had ignited in her.
He stepped back to watch as her orgasm peaked and slowly started to wane, then he punched the shower button and grinned as Gabrielle spluttered and gasped under the torrent of water that rinsed every trace of soap…and sex…from her body. The water that had a five minute delay switch which he had activated from the tack room at the appropriate moment.
When the flow ceased, he let her wait for a minute while he enjoyed the delightful view of water trickling from her breasts and down her thighs, then he lifted her down from the hook and dried her with the towel without removing her handcuffs.
“Master…” she began, then fell silent as he placed a finger to her lips.
He led her to her stable and as soon as she saw the heavy leather padlock-collar which awaited her, she sank gracefully to her knees and lowered her head in passive submission.
Without a word, he slipped the collar about her throat and snapped the padlock to the gleaming chain which rose to a ring in the wall and only then did he remove her handcuffs.
As he walked to the door to lock her in for the night, Gabrielle looked up…and smiled…
Chapter Six
Gabrielle drifted slowly upwards from a deep well of unconsciousness, her eyes fluttering and her lips curving into a sleepy smile as she savored the delicious eroticism of the images that had filled her dreams. Through half-closed eyes she looked without recognition at a fence of tall iron bars and her brow furrowed as her sleep-dazed brain tried to imagine why Matthew would have such an odd thing in his bedroom?
Her eyes sprang open and she gave a low squeal of alarm as the thought of Matthew triggered a host of memories. Instantly she knew exactly where she was…and why…and knew, too, that her thrilling dreams had not been dreams at all, but memories of real events.
Every vivid fantasy that had filled her rest with shamefully-explicit visions of bondage and sexual subjugation, had actually taken place and been faithfully recorded in the memory-bank of her mind, only to be re-played to her as she slept. She remembered everything…the moment she allowed herself to be bound for the first time… the incredible combination of cropping and arousal that had eventually led her to beg to be trained to serve as a pony-slave…right up to her screams of ecstasy and willing submission to her Master’s hands as she dangled from the hook under the shower. The hook to which she had secured her own wrists.
A pink glow of embarrassment flooded her cheeks and she sat up quickly…but as soon as she moved, there was a rattle of chain and she felt weight at her throat. She remembered that, too and as her hands followed the steel links up to the leather collar padlocked around her neck, Gabrielle shivered, knowing that she was not going anywhere until her Master released her. Unless he had had a dramatic change of heart overnight, that wouldn’t happen until after she had been re-harnessed and was again helplessly bound and gagged.
Surprisingly, she found herself able to face the prospect quite calmly, even rather looking forward to being at Matthew’s mercy and having to obey him and as she remembered how totally he had dominated her and forced her to surrender to the incredible ecstasy of her own passions, a fierce, hot flame of sexual arousal ignited in her belly. Ashamed of her immediate response to her thoughts, she tried to distract herself by rising to her feet and examining the loose-box where she had spent the night.
Ten feet square, the rear wall of bricks and the others formed by thick steel bars, its stone floor covered in straw, there was nothing to take a watcher’s eye away from the occupant and Gabrielle quickly realized that there was no way she could hide her nudity from anyone on the other side of the bars.
Without thinking, she moved towards the door, only to be jerked to a halt as the chain to her collar snapped taut with her outstretched hand still a foot or so away from the large padlock which secured the gate. No matter what she did, her fingers couldn’t reach the lock and as this fresh evidence of Matthew’s determination to hold her captive sank into her brain, her eyes widened at the confirmation that he was completely serious about his plans for her.
He meant to turn her into an obedient, docile pony-slave and although the idea appealed to her more than she cared to admit to herself, Gabrielle was frighteningly conscious that if she allowed herself to submit, there might be no going back. She wanted to please him and couldn’t deny that her experiences of the previous evening as his harnessed, bit-gagged and utterly defenseless sex-toy had been the most incredible and intensely satisfying sexual adventure of her entire life. His uncompromising dominance and ruthless plundering of her body had unlocked something deep down in the furthest recesses of her brain and freed a side of her nature that Gabrielle had not even suspected that she possessed. A deep vein of submissive, slightly masochistic passion that had transformed her fear into arousal, her humiliation into ferocious need, her despair into unbearable longing and even the pain of her whippings into overwhelming pleasure. And she knew that it would be so, so easy, to surrender to the seductive allure of permanent slavery. To simply give in to her awakened desires for bondage and subjugation. To accept her fate and the ecstatic rapture of serving her Master as a full and willing slave.
Knowing what such a total surrender would mean…did she dare to give herself so completely?
Before she could reach her decision, bolts rattled and as she turned towards the sound, she saw Matthew walk through the door towards her, his muscular body clad in immaculate riding-clothes, even down to gleaming black boots and a long, thin crop gripped in his right hand. He was smiling, but as he saw her standing in her stable watching him, his handsome face creased into a frown of displeasure.
It t
ook Gabrielle two seconds to realize her error, then she gave a weak grin and nodded, putting her arms behind her back, crossing her wrists and spreading her legs to present her body to his gaze as he had instructed her the day before.
“Hmm. Slow, pony-girl, very slow,” he said flatly. “You will have to do better if you wish to avoid punishment. Now, put these on behind your back and kneel in the centre of your stable,” and tossed the handcuffs to the straw at her feet.
Gabrielle looked down at the cuffs, then raised her eyes to his face, “Uh…now look, Matthew,” she said slowly. “We need to talk, darling.”
“Do we?” he replied calmly. “Very well, Gabrielle. Talk to me, then,” and began to tap the crop against his polished boot.
She took a deep breath, “I’ve been thinking about being your pony-girl and I’m pretty sure I can do it. For a while, anyway. But not forever. I mean, yesterday was great and just amazingly exciting, being tied up and harnessed and having to obey you and…and please you and everything…but we’ve both got to be realistic, haven’t we? There’s no way we can play games permanently, even if we both want to, can we? I’ve got a job and a living to make, haven’t I?”
“Hmm,” his lips pursed in thought, then he grinned. “Not today, pony-girl. It’s the weekend, or had you forgotten? We don’t have to think about boring things like your job for almost another forty-eight hours.”
Gabrielle had forgotten and as she saw his grin and jumped to the conclusion that the end of the weekend would also bring an end to her captivity, she giggled in relief, “Oh, well, in that case…” She sank to her knees to pick up the cuffs.
Fitting the first steel ring around her left wrist, she closed it carefully to a snug fit, then put her arms behind her and fumbled with the second cuff until she managed to get it around her other wrist. With a deep breath, she squeezed firmly and as the ratchets clicked, fierce heat coiled in her belly to the knowledge that she was at his mercy again.
The One Pound Ponygirl Page 5