A Rough Ride: Pony Girl Training in Latex and Leather (2 page)

'Enough, gentlemen; either myself or Mr Levison might want to admire her ass later and I, for one, don't want it to be a bruised mess.' Mark regretted his outburst as soon as it had left his lips. Watching Kyle's smile widen he hoped to hell that whoever the owner of this stable was, he was prepared to be reasonable.

'Getting squeamish in your old age, Matthews?'

Mark didn't grace Kyle's question with a reply. Instead he watched intently as Matthius picked up his cell and began dialling. There was an anxious look upon the man's face as his thickset fingers punched in the numbers and awaited an answer. As he began to apprise the owner of the situation his brow creased in concentration, before finally the cell was removed from his ear and placed gently upon the podium in front of him. The room had become silent once more as the spanking stopped. Miss Redcliff could be heard panting for breath in the corner, but all eyes were now on Matthius and the outcome of the telephone call. There was an awkward pause as he cleared his throat.

'We are shortly to receive an answer via the intercom so that all present may hear the verdict. Meanwhile, the owner has suggested that the remaining participants amuse themselves by accompanying the pony to the veterinary surgery where she will be given a physical examination and, due to her recent disobedient behaviour, she will be fitted with the "device". I have it on good authority it is a spectacle well worth witnessing,' and with that Matthius led the way out of the glittering mirror mass, causing dozens of prisms to refract themselves around the pristine white walls as the crystal face of his watch caught a dazzling ray of sunlight.

Jenny watched the proceedings in miserable silence. Her breathing had now slowed and her head cleared from the fury of having been expected to fall at Mark Matthews' feet. Whoever the owner of this godforsaken place was, they had better not give her to him. A fountain pen would be the least of his worries. As one of the incredible hulks behind her began unfastening the ropes and spreader bar which held her legs taught, she could only think of the humiliation that would follow being awarded as Mark's prize pet, to be trotted around and made to do tricks. Although her backside stung and a fierce wave of heat emanated from the tender flesh, the sensation did little but fuel her ardour and it was all down to that one infernal man. The sooner he was out of the equation the better. At least she'd be able to think clearly and form a sensible escape plan.

The ogres were rough but worked with a speed and agility that belied their size. In no time at all she was free of the rope that had been coiled around her wrists, knees, calves and ankles, but the effects of the rope burn she had managed to achieve during her orgasm dance would stay with her for a few days to come. Her arm-binder, which had been roughly ripped off just before the auction began, was beyond repair and as there didn't appear to be another in sight, Jenny supposed she could be thankful for small mercies. At this precise moment in time there wasn't a lot she felt thankful for. Her limbs ached and her jaw felt like someone had driven a transit truck through it. Both mouth and pussy were filled with an unpleasant heat that simmered uncomfortably and the heavy saddle she wore buckled on her back made breathing through her corset even more difficult, if that were possible. When a heavy hand landed on her backside with a smack, she mewled pitifully through her gag.

'Move!' It was apparent that the beefy twins were men of little words. The command was grunted loudly and accompanied by a boot in her sex, so Jenny had little choice but to obey. Stumbling forward, a stout hand slapped her rump again and squealing loudly Jenny raced across the room.

Fighting her way through a jungle of meandering legs she had plenty of time to admire the opulent dress and footwear of her audience. These were people from her world; the world of the rich and famous which housed the powerful, compelling forces of the upper echelons of society. A Gucci stiletto whizzed past her nose, followed by a Dolce and Gabbana shoe which took a more leisurely path. From her vantage point of only a few inches above the floor she watched glossy gold buckles fly past her nose and highly polished leather brogues flirt with leopard-skin Jimmy Choo's. Was this to be her life from now on? Examining the footwear of the high and mighty? The swish of a long silk skirt brushed over the highly sensitised skin of her back and she shuddered with longing.

'Oh, what a delightful wiggle those ass cheeks have, and just look at that tiny tail. Lots of room for improvement, don't you think? I wonder if she'll be worth buying after she's finished her training?' The voice was female and her English was tinged with an Italian accent. Her comment was met with a mumbled reply from her male companion. Walking slowly behind the errant pony, the woman was now examining her attempt to tackle the concrete corridor.

Jenny could feel the eyes of the pair boring into her back. Having forgotten how brutal crawling was on her hands and knees, she was now going as slowly as possible in order to lessen the abrasive impact against her skin. Falling behind the main group quickly, she struggled to keep her hands and knees moving against the cold and unforgiving floor.

'I think Petal needs some encouragement, darling,' said Miss Italy, and there was another mumbled reply. The next thing Jenny knew, a pointed heel was being firmly pressed into her left buttock and Miss Italy was putting some considerable weight behind it. Jenny shrieked loudly and darted off up the corridor, uncaring of the rubble underneath her. A few minor scratches were nothing when compared with a five inch heel trying to stab for entrance into an already very tender backside.

'Hmm, pity,' said Miss Italy, her lips forming a delicate moue as Petal raced off ahead. 'I was just thinking that the little horsie would make an amazing footstool installed permanently in the centre of our lounge, darling.'

Jenny raced on ahead, not wanting to hear the rest of that particular conversation, and bemoaned the new throbbing pain in her ass cheek. It was obvious who wore the trousers in their relationship, she thought sourly. Darting in between legs once more as she caught up with the main group, she gave no thought to anything bar escaping the pair behind her. Her lungs burned for air but she paid them little attention. She was too intent on trying to listen to Matthius, who was giving his captive audience a taste of what was to come.

'The device is quite possibly one of the worst punishments that can be awarded to a novice pony,' said the auctioneer, turning around to give his spectators a wide smile. 'It is a suit of perfectly tailored, form-fitting latex which will hug every curve and contour of the pony-girl's body. It provides sensory deprivation in many different ways. Her ears can be filled with wax, to ensure she cannot hear a thing. While two small slits will be provided for her eyes to enable walking, an additional blackout blindfold is provided if her trainer wishes to deny her the pleasure of sight. Her mouth will be plugged with a small ball-gag, but this can be removed should there be any additional requirements for her mouth.

'And there will be,' drawled a now familiar voice. Laughter bounced off the narrow walls and Jenny felt her throat go dry. Would the cowboy be as demanding as Mark? Would he treat her gently? She cursed herself a thousand times over for thinking such thoughts. She would be rescued. She would! If it took her rescue team a few more days to find her, she'd cope. These people only had her body to amuse themselves with. She still had firm control of her mind; except when she was anywhere near Mark, that was.
Please, anyone but him
, she begged silently, and could only hope that someone somewhere was listening.

'Tiny wires are situated all over the insides of her new bodysuit and will pulse electrical current through her body in order to keep her aroused and stimulated. The suit features a special "chastity belt" which will be locked in place automatically and a timer will be set for the duration of forty-eight hours, whereupon the locking mechanism will be released automatically. The chastity belt itself features two dildos which, although initially quite small and comfortable in size, can be inflated, elongated and pulsed within her body. There is a clitoral stimulator which will be fitted with precision around either side of her clitoris and a tiny pincer-like contraption will reside above it. If the internal computer contained within her suit decides she is becoming too aroused, she will received a sharp nip for her troubles and all titillating sensations will cease abruptly. The suit will then decide when to restart its devious ministrations. There might be as much as thirty minutes between near orgasms, or there could be less than five. As you can imagine, little sleep will be achieved in a suit that turns its victim's body into an orgasmic ticking time-bomb. More laughter echoed around the corridor.

'Can such a suit be purchased from Albrecht? For the use of our own slaves, perhaps?' The gentleman who asked the question was tall, obviously French judging by his accent, and his face was screwed up in fierce concentration.

'I'm not sure,' replied Matthius, who had little to do with the inner dealings of Albrecht, 'but for a price, pretty much everything is for sale around here.' He turned his head back over his shoulder and gave an exaggerated, cheeky wink to the spellbound participants.

'Could the suit be worn for extended periods of time? Perhaps five, six or even seven days, Monsieur?'

'That I cannot tell you. But hold on to your questions, ladies and gentlemen, because the vet will probably be able to answer them very shortly.'

Jenny veered well away from Mr France and his unsettling inquiries. She did note that the rather disturbing gentleman wore a pair of Berluti loafers, easily costing over four hundred pounds for the pair and that if he could afford shoes such as those, along with the suspected Valentino suit he wore; a latex cat-suit wouldn't prove too big a problem for his budget. All this talk of restrictive clothing and denied orgasms was making her hungry again, and it wasn't for food. The menu at Albrecht had already put her off fruit and vegetables for life...

'Our little pony is lagging behind again, Giles. I think she's heard a little too much. Perhaps we should give her an added incentive to get her ass moving?'

Jenny's head swung around awkwardly to discover the whereabouts of the new voice, this time of thoroughbred English descent. A gentleman in his late fifties smiled lecherously back at her.

'I think you're right, Crawford,' said his purring companion, also male, but of much younger years, 'or we may have to wait until Christmas to see this "device".' After a few seconds of high-pitched laughter Jenny discovered something slim, smooth and made of leather being run up her inner thigh. It didn't take a brain surgeon to guess what the man was waving around and she surged forward to avoid its exploratory path.

Unfortunately the crop appeared to move with her and it quickly reached higher, probing for entry at her slippery sex. Jenny swung left to avoid its path and was rewarded with more laughter. She did not manage to avoid its path a second time. A loud smacking sound could be heard as the tip of the crop caught her left buttock. Jenny wailed as best she was able through her thick rubber bit. Although it had been little more than a light tap, the pain was maddening after her buttocks had been cruelly ravaged by the canes. Thinking it wise not to allow the crop another attempt to rest upon her poor ass cheeks, she fled through the ranks and was somewhat surprised when Matthius left the confines of the building and continued walking out into the open. Where on earth were they going?

When her knees hit grass Jenny contemplated the thought of getting up on all fours and making a run for it. The idea soon manifested itself as ridiculous in her brain. She knew without a doubt that Mark, Kyle and possibly Matthius would be fast enough to catch her and the electrified fence was still in place. All she would be doing would be inviting further punishments upon her body and it looked like she already had enough to cope with in that department. Erasing the thought of escape from her mind for now, she appreciated the cool dirt beneath her hands and knees. Never in her life had she thought she might enjoy the rigors of crawling through mud and muck, but oh how times had changed. Right now she would love to immerse her steaming backside in a pile of gooey mud and wiggle about in it to the best of her ability. She burned and she hungered; next she'd be begging to stay. Trying to oust the annoying thought from her head, she became increasingly annoyed when it refused to budge.

'And here we are, ladies and gentlemen,' said Matthius, stopping outside a rather unremarkable outbuilding built of red brick with corresponding red slate tiles. As per nearly all the buildings in Albrecht, its entrance was through a double set of brightly painted, white timber doors. When they opened they revealed a man in a white coat and various surgical contraptions that did not look welcoming. She would have immediately retreated backwards, but the spectators had formed a semicircle around her, effectively blocking any departure.

'If you'd like to file around either side of the "breeding station", which we will use for her preliminary examination, I think all of you will manage to achieve quite a good view from that perspective.' Those were Matthius' ominous last words as she was driven forward by a dozen or so pairs of moving feet.

The Veterinarian

The first thing Jenny noticed upon entering the new building was that the floors were made of sparkling white marble, a thin vein of grey running through each impressively sized slab. It was amazing what you noticed when your head was only inches from the floor. The smell of antiseptic and bleach was fresh upon the tiles and it was obvious they had been recently cleaned. Her face was reluctant to stretch itself to examine higher objects, but in the end she decided it was better to have some idea of what might be about to happen to her.

Finally, lifting her eyes off the floor and straining to look upwards in her tight leather collar she immediately wished she had kept her nose down. Directly in front of her was the young man she had spied earlier. Dressed in a lab coat, which revealed a neatly ironed blue shirt beneath, she placed him somewhere in his thirties. He sported a stethoscope around his neck and a pair of stainless steel forceps hung over the single pocket upon his breast. Of slim build, he wore rimless glasses delicately balanced upon his roman nose and generated a somewhat bookish and geeky look. Glancing down at her in a detached manner, he beckoned her forward.