The One Pound Ponygirl Page 2

  There was none and as her frightened gaze returned unwillingly to his face, his smile slowly faded to a cold, hard stare.

  “All right,” he said, “you’ve had your little bit of fun, but now it’s time to get serious. Stand still and open your mouth.”

  He spoke firmly, his eyes glittering with menace and as Gabrielle read the determination written on his face, she sought desperately for some way to persuade him to set her free.

  “Oh no, Matthew. Please don’t put that…that thing on me. I’m begging you, darling,” she pleaded. “Look I tell you what, how about I promise to do whatever you tell me, anything you want and we just forget about me being a pony-girl?” She hesitated, then hurried on as he remained unmoved, “You could even…even keep me t-tied up for a while if you like. It might be f-fun as I’ve never d-done it like that before.”

  “Hmm,” he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “I don’t know. I paid a whole pound for a pony-girl, you know.”

  “I’ll pay you back,” Gabrielle replied without thinking, then her eyes opened wide and her jaw sagged open as she remembered…….

  “OK,” he nodded, “it’s a deal. Pay me back right now and I’ll let you go.”

  The pound coin winked and glittered in the lights as he spun it into the air and caught it in his hand and Gabrielle shuddered in despair, knowing that she was trapped.

  “But…you’ve already got it,” she whispered hopelessly. “I can’t pay you back because you’ve already got it.”

  “Yes,” he chuckled mirthlessly, “and I’ve got you, too.”

  He leapt forward, seizing Gabrielle before she could move and as her mouth opened in the beginnings of a scream; he thrust the rubber-coated steel bit deep between her stretched jaws, holding it in place with one strong hand while the other tightened the first buckle behind her neck and under her long blonde hair.

  Bound at wrists and knees, Gabrielle had no chance against him and as her attempts to scream and protest died to nasal whimpers and wordless grunts, he tightened further straps under her chin, over the crown of her head and around her forehead, each drawing the cranked steel bar deeper into her mouth and more tightly down over her trapped tongue.

  By the time he stood back to admire his handiwork, Gabrielle was utterly incapable of intelligible speech. Her lips stretched by the ends of the bit which protruded from the corners of her mouth and were attached to large steel rings pressed tight against her cheeks by the strap encircling her head.

  “That’s much better, pony-girl.” Matthew nodded in satisfaction. “You’re starting to look the part and as soon as you learn to whinny properly, you will sound it as well.”

  Gabrielle was terrified at what he had done to her, but she was also furious and as he grinned at her, she threw her head from side to side, fighting to eject the horrible bit which gagged her.

  To her despair and horror, Matthew laughed. “Terrific, Gabrielle. Do that again. You look exactly like a real pony when you toss your head like that. That’s just what a pony does when it feels a bit in its mouth for the first time.”

  That was the moment when the blonde understood that there was to be no escape for her and as the reality of her plight sank into her brain, she fell to her knees on the soft carpet and her eyes filled with hot tears of shame and misery.

  It did her no good, for as she knelt weeping, her lover…her owner…buckled another set of cuffs on her ankles and locked them together, then pushed her down onto her belly and began to work the heavy leather tube up her arms.

  Higher and higher, past her forearms, past her elbows, up to the middle of her biceps and Gabrielle gave a high-pitched squeal of anguished discomfort as the zip closed, clamping her arms together until her elbows nearly met and her limbs became a single, uncomfortably stressed column behind her back.

  Now, when it was far too late, she understood why the device was called a single-arm glove.

  Two long straps passing over her shoulders, crossing over her chest above her breasts and back beneath her armpits to buckle the tube firmly in place, ensured that there was no way she could slide the device down to release her arms. As he lifted her back to her knees, she whimpered in terror and stared numbly down at her shamefully proffered breasts, knowing that she could never hope to free herself.

  “Welcome to your harness, pony-girl.” Matthew was unmoved by her anguish, “Raise your head and look upon your new Master.”

  Gabrielle shook her head.

  She would not…would not…give him the satisfaction.

  She knew he could force her if he chose…he was far stronger and she was helpless…but she would never, never, never obey him.

  “Head up, I said, pony-girl,” he demanded, but Gabrielle would not. As she heard him turn away and walk to the wardrobe, she dared to hope that her resistance would show him just how much she hated being bound and humiliated like this and show him that she would never give in to him.

  Her hopes lasted for just one second longer than it took him to return to her, for as she knelt head down, she heard a thin whistling sound and a loud “crack” as a riding crop slashed across the fronts of her unprotected thighs.

  Instantly, searing heat exploded through her flesh and as her neck jerked back in response to the furiously stinging stripe that blossomed across her smooth skin, a second equally hard lash joined the first.

  Squealing in shock and pain, she stared in wide-eyed terror at the crop in Matthew’s hand and as he snapped, “Head up, girl. I shan’t tell you again,” Gabrielle learned that for a harnessed pony-girl, it was an act of the sheerest folly to attempt to thwart a Master’s wishes.

  With her thighs blazing with furious heat, she stiffened her spine and held her head erect; her mind was in turmoil as she fought to come to terms with his ruthless cruelty.

  “That’s better,” he told her casually, “You see how simple it is, pony-girl. I give an order and you obey it. If you don’t, I punish you. That’s all there is to it. Now, let’s see if you’ve got all that clear. We’ll start with something easy.”

  Tucking the crop into his belt, he reached forward with both hands.

  Gabrielle squealed shrilly as her taut breasts were captured. As his fingers and thumbs rolled and squeezed her presented nipples, she writhed and shuddered, her blonde hair flying as she jerked and twisted against her tight bondage in frantic efforts to evade the unwanted and frighteningly powerful jolts of arousal that surged through her.

  Matthew frowned, “You were not given permission to move, pony-girl, nor to lower your head. Ah well, I have something to help solve that little problem.” To Gabrielle’s helpless horror, he strode to the wardrobe and returned with a tall, heavy circlet of shiny black leather.

  “I was going to spare you this posture collar until we reached the farm,” he said calmly, “but I suppose now is as good a time as any.” With swift, deft movements he placed the collar about her slender throat.

  As the collar, some four inches tall and boned with steel like her basque, was clamped firmly around her neck and buckled into position, Gabrielle found her head virtually immobilized, a padded cut-out beneath her chin preventing her from turning and the rigid boning forcing her head to remain erect.

  From behind her back she heard the clinking of metal and a wail of anguish leaked past the thick bit-gag in her mouth as a strong chain was clipped to a ring on the rear of her collar and tensioned until her head was arched back as far as her posture collar would permit. Then the chain was clipped to the ring on the finger end of the tubular single-glove restraint binding her arms and she could only gaze frantically upwards as Matthew strolled around to smile down at her stringently bound form.

  “Let’s try that again, shall we?” he asked cheerfully and his hands descended to her breasts for a second time.

  Now though, Gabrielle was unable to avoid or resist his touch and as his fingers and thumbs caressed and fondled and rolled her defenseless nipples, she could only gasp and whimper in helpless need as her te
nder buds began to stiffen and engorge in response to arousal she was powerless to prevent.

  “The first moment I saw you, I wanted you, Gabrielle,” Matthew informed her. “I knew you’d look great in bondage and I was right. I decided right there that I’d have you as my pony-girl and it was only a question of when and how I’d do it. But then, of course, we saw that carriage driving, didn’t we? And as soon as you didn’t freak out when I mentioned the idea of you pulling a carriage, I knew.”

  He grinned down into her bulging eyes, his fingers never ceasing to toy with her now-rigid nipples. “And here you are, well on your way. This is only the start, of course. Soon, I’ll take you out to the farm and we can begin your training in earnest. It’s all ready for you and I can’t wait to see how quickly you adapt to the reins and the whip. I’ve estimated three months, but if it takes longer it doesn’t really matter. I have all the time in the world and it’s not as if you’ll ever be leaving, now is it?”

  Gabrielle’s wide blue eyes filled with stunned disbelief as she learned that her captivity was no accident, but the culmination of a carefully laid plan. As he explained that her training would be a minimum of three months and she understood that she would never again be free, her belly gave a spasm of incredible power and she felt a spurt of hot juices gush into her sex.

  Appalled by the betrayal of her body, she tried to deny the shameful excitement his words sparked in her, but her all-too-evident response had been seen by her Master. As his fingers thrust into her belly and probed the slick, wet tissues of her most intimate recesses, she could not prevent the instinctive contractions of her internal muscles or the renewed flowing of her juices as her body surrendered to the intensely shocking and erotic images her brain conjured up for her.

  Unless she could somehow escape, her future would be that of a harnessed pony-girl, bound in leather and steel as a permanent captive, her body at the mercy of her ruthless Master and his riding crop. Doomed forever to a life of bondage, submission and sexual slavery.

  From deep in her throat came a wordless scream of total horror as her Master wrenched a full orgasm from her quivering body. As her juices flooded down to bathe his embedded fingers in liquid heat, Gabrielle’s belly spasmed and pulsed with enormous power in the throes of her first climax as an owned female pony.

  Chapter Three

  Matthew Torrance slipped his fingers from the silky wetness of his captive’s drenched sex and gazed down into her anguished, up-tilted face until the jolting explosions of her first enforced submission to his will began to ease.

  “Quite satisfactory, pony-girl,” he told her casually, then added, “for a beginner. You will become much more responsive as your training progresses, of course,” he smiled coldly, then added, “at least you will unless you want to be punished.”

  He took the crop from his belt and sent it whistling through the air above her head and as her eyes filled with terror and she whimpered in fear, he nodded firmly, “I see we understand each other.”

  Gabrielle understood only too well and as he informed her that he was now her Master and that she was required to call him that on every occasion when he permitted her to speak, she felt a cold chill of apprehension form in the pit of her belly.

  Nor was that all, for she must obey every command he gave, instantly and without hesitation. Failure of any description would be immediately punished by his crop.

  His final warning, that there would be no exceptions to these rules and no acceptable excuses, was reinforced as he tapped his crop lightly across the delicate buds of her nipples, staring deep into her frightened eyes as he did so.

  There was no mistaking the message and a shudder racked Gabrielle’s body as she imagined her breasts being whipped….

  For long seconds, he held her gaze, letting her read her fate in his dark eyes, then he made a show of checking his watch. “Well now, pony-girl,” he said at last, “it’s now just after eleven. In a couple of hours it should be quiet enough to take you down to the car and drive you to the farm. So we have some time on our hands. Any suggestions as to how we spend it?”

  His eyes glittered with amusement as he asked the question, knowing full well that she could not answer him and as she remained silent, he sighed and shrugged his shoulders, “Oh well, if you can’t think of anything entertaining, then I suppose I shall have to.”

  Gabrielle moaned into her bit-gag, suspecting immediately what form the entertainment would take and when he strode to the wardrobe and returned with three lengths of nylon rope, she knew that her suspicions were correct.

  Two were swiftly knotted to the posts at the bottom corners of the bed while the third was looped under it and knotted together, leaving a short end lying on the duvet.

  It was obvious that he meant to spread her ankles to the posts, but she could not quite work out the purpose of the third rope…until he lifted and carried her to the bed and bent her forward over the footboard.

  She tried to struggle as he forced her head down, but the combination of her bondage and his superior strength was far too much. In seconds the rope was looped through a ring on the front of her posture collar and drawn taut to hold her doubled over.

  It was then childishly easy for him to loop the other ropes to each of her ankle cuffs, release the clip and pull her legs apart.

  Squealing in horror, she was forced onto the tips of her leather-shod toes as her legs were hugely spread until her thighs quivered with the strain. She was completely immobilized.

  With her rounded buttocks raised high and the pink folds of her labia drawn apart to reveal the glistening channel of her sex to his eager gaze, Gabrielle could do nothing to stop him using her as he pleased. She was forced to accept his absolute power over her, her tears dampened the duvet below her and muffled whimpers told of her humiliation and fear.

  Unable to see behind her or anticipate what was to come, she was taken completely by surprise as the crop burned a line of scarlet fire across her lifted bottom cheeks.

  Twice, then twice more, then a final two, each lash greeted by a muffled wail of pained misery as her Master exerted his dominance and her bottom flamed with blistering heat.

  For an untrained and unprepared captive such as Gabrielle, the shock was immense for even though Matthew had cropped her thighs to force her to obey him, she had never envisaged being punished for no reason other than his pleasure.

  She had done nothing…nothing…yet still she had been cropped.

  It drove home the stark reality of her plight with shattering force and as she fought desperately to come to terms with the situation, she momentarily forgot that inflicting punishment was not the only pleasure he could take from her.

  His long, thick shaft bored into her gaping sex in one irresistible lunge and as she screamed in shock, he took her with hard, jolting thrusts, penetrating and ravaging her body without mercy until she was sent hurtling into a climax of such devastating strength and intensity that she could no longer draw breath to scream. Her plundered belly exploded in white-hot bursts of molten love-juices.

  Convulsing in an orgasm imposed on her against her will and with her nostrils flaring to suck in desperately needed air, Gabrielle juddered in her bonds as hard fingers twisted her swollen nipples and still more cruel and unwanted arousal crashed through her pulsing belly and reeling brain.

  She tried to hold on against the enforced lust consuming her very being, but her frantic efforts were shattered into a million pieces as her Master increased the speed and depth of his thrusts to force her into a second, even greater orgasm as his seed hosed into the swirling, seething core of her belly.

  Driven far beyond her limits, her whole body a sexual inferno she could not even begin to control, boiling floods of her love juices poured down over her Master’s deeply buried flesh as Gabrielle submitted utterly to the slavery she was no longer capable of resisting.

  A low moan filtered through her bit-gag when he pulled from her body. She slumped limply in her bonds as he str
olled from the room, whistling as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  And why not, she thought bitterly, he had every reason to be happy. For he possessed a pony-girl and a sex-slave, the two combined in one tightly bound and hopelessly responsive female. A woman who had once been his lover and his equal, but whom he now owned.

  Stunned by the depth of her sexual submission and fearful of the crop he carried, Gabrielle made no resistance as he returned to her and untied the ropes which had held her for his pleasure.

  He locked her knee cuffs together, but left her ankles free. It was only when he clipped a six-foot braided leather leash to the front of her collar and commanded, “Follow, pony-girl,” that she remembered him telling her that she was to be taken down to the car and transported to his farm.

  Only, the car was in the underground park beneath the building, seventeen floors below… and the only way of reaching it was by the lift which served the entire block…

  Surely he couldn’t be intending to take the enormous risk of using such a public method without covering her almost total nudity? Not with her gagged and in bondage with the marks of her croppings still clear against her pale flesh? It would be mad…crazy…unthinkable.

  He led her, shuffling slowly in her hobbles and high heels, to the front door of his apartment and to her horror, out into the foyer.

  Her mind screamed “No”, and she tried to pull back, only to find that he did not intend to let her defy his wishes and that his promise to punish any disobedience on her part was no idle threat.

  With a cruel jerk on the leash he brought her to her knees and without a second’s hesitation sent his crop slashing across her buttocks and thighs, applying six smarting cuts as she writhed and screamed in pain.

  “Follow, pony-girl,” he repeated sharply. As Gabrielle struggled to her feet with her eyes glistening with tears and her body adorned with the glowing evidence of her punishment, he walked to the lift and pressed the button.