WELCOME TO MY GALLERY


More Self Discovery

My first experience trying to tie myself up was unsatisfactory in that I never really achieved a complete helplessness. At the time, I didn't think it could be achieved, but felt that I wanted it. I began daydreaming about being tied up in ways that I could not escape from.

I did a little research, and played with knots when I could. My parents and brother were usually home and I couldn't really do much with them around, but I actually learned some things in the privacy of my own room. Then one day, my parents and brother went out and were not scheduled to return until dinner time. I had a solid four hours to play alone, and I prepared for it.

The parents left, telling me not to get into trouble. I was 14, a freshman in high school, and was still a virgin but just barely. I had been dating a couple of guys informally and sneaked out to see one of them when I could. I could easily have gotten one of them over to get into trouble, but at this point I wanted to see what I could do alone.

This time, I stripped first. The experience before was exciting and turned me on, a lot. I wanted to experience that again. The sensation of being naked increased my sense of daring, as well as making me feel vulnerable and excited. I was wet between my legs before I removed my panties. Touching myself with my hand, I rubbed my clit for a while, just feeling the sensation of being completely naked in the house, and the sensual turn on of anticipating being tied up.

I began with my ankles. It was an easy decision. This time though, I crossed my ankles before tying, and used the rope to crisscross the ankles. This spread my legs while still tying me securely. I tested the tie a bit, making sure it was secure, and then played with myself for a while, masturbating and  taking the wetness on my fingers to my nipples.

Next, I took some panties from my laundry. They weren't "dirty", but they weren't fresh either. I put them in my mouth, pushing the cloth deep inside the cavity of my left cheek, then inside the center over my tongue, and then pushing into my right cheek. It wasn't nearly enough. I could feel that the gag wasn't complete, so I got up to find some more cloth.

And fell over, because my ankles were tied. DUH. Rather than untie and retie my ankles, I dragged myself over to my laundry and sorted through for something suitable. All I found was a pair of gym socks. I considered briefly whether I wanted them stuffed inside my mouth and decided it would have to do. Restuffing my panties in, I followed them with the socks. When I was done, my cheeks were bulging and my tongue was pushed down and back, my mouth was so full. I dragged myself back to my desk where I had some wide silver tape I had gotten from my dad's tool box.

The cloth kept coming out. I stuffed it back in and then started wrapping the tape around my wide open but full mouth. My hair was tied back in a pony so it wasn't too hard to get the tape all around my head and around my mouth several times. After about 10 wraps around, I decided it was secure and stopped for a bit to consider my next move.

That gag was strong and effective. I couldn't make much noise. I sat on the floor with my knees spread and masturbated some more. The feeling of helplessness I wanted was coming on and exciting me as I moved my fingers inside myself, pushing and sliding over my clit. My nipples were hard. I pinched them, and felt a surge of pleasure and excitement. I pinched them harder, feeling a little pain that simply excited me more. It was then I had another idea.

Mouth gagged securely and ankles tied I dragged myself into the bathroom next to my own room. There I found a basket that contained what I wanted - clothespins. I grabbed a handful and dragged myself back to my room. I was getting rug burn and realized I wasn't as prepared as I thought I was. Time to get a move on.


One clothespin in hand, I pulled and massaged one erect nipple to its fullest and then placed the clamp on it. As the spring pressed down and closed on the sensitive flesh, I emitted a muffled yelp! It hurt a lot more than I thought it would. I quickly removed the pin, and yelped again as it came off. Wow, that was intense. But I wanted it, desperately. Weirder and weirder I thought, but I was so hot and aroused by now I could take the pain. I put the clamp back on my left nipple, cringing at the pain and waiting a moment before massaging my right breast, pulling the nipple out and clamping it as well.

Fuck, it hurt. But strangely as I sat there and felt the pain, it seemed to diminish. It ached, but I could take it.

I took a rope down from the top of my desk. It had been pretied in a way I had learned by doing a little research. It was a way of tying my wrists by using a knot that was already tied in a loop, then just pulling the loop tight.  I had already thought through how to pull on the loop to tighten around my wrists. The other end of the rope would go around my ankles, of course!  They would naturally pull and tighten the loop, right?

One end of the rope went around my ankles. It was looped, not tied. I pulled on it to make sure it was secure around my ankles and then moved away to a pre-tied rope that was on the floor next to me. This was the special treat of which I was so proud; I had played with it before to get it right.

It was a sort of figure 8 tie, that had two loops on each end with the rope wrapped in the middle. The loops would cinch tighter if pulled (though not a lot, I hadn't gotten that part perfected yet). Reaching my arms behind my back I slid each loop of the figure 8 over one of my hands. By pushing and rolling the ropes higher, I managed to get them up to my elbows before my arms couldnt stand it any more and I relaxed, spreading my elbows apart and cinching the rope tight around my arms. My elbows were now about a foot or so apart behind my back.

I lay there for a moment. My hands were still free but the tie around my elbows had restricted me, a lot. My breathing was fast and shallow, partly from the effort I had put into getting the elbow ropes on, and partly because I was so aroused. I wanted to cum but reaching my clit was no longer possible. It was time for the last step.

I lay on my side and bent my knees as much as I could. The rope that went around my ankles and ended in the wrist loops was too short; I needed to get my feet further up. I wriggled to where I could press my knees against the desk for support and then curved and bent my back so that I could reach my hands all the way to my feet. I grabbed the loops (there was one for each wrist with a wrapping in between) and managed to get my wrists into them.

It had been a huge struggle to get myself tied and I finally relaxed. As I relaxed, my legs moved away from my wrists a few inches and pulled the cinch tie tight. Whamo! I felt it immediately. The rope encircled my wrists, my body naturally pulling my legs away and keeping the cinch tight. Wow, it felt good. I was helpless.

I lay on my side, panting a bit. I had successfully and unwittingly placed myself into a rather tight, constricting hogtie. It felt marvelous. I wriggled, and all it did was make the ropes tighter. I rolled onto my stomach, and felt my legs sag down and pull my arms back and shoulders up. I was in an inverted curve and either my shoulders would be pulled back or my legs would have to be pushed up.

The clothespins on my nipples continued to hurt, but not nearly as badly as when I had first put them on. The flesh ached, and I realized for the first time that my self tie prevented me from stopping the pain. My wrists and hands were aching from the tight ropes which constricted blood flow. I forced myself back to relieve some of the tightness, and got no relief.

I rolled over again, considering my predicament. I was stark naked on the floor of my room. My breasts jutted out in front of me, with clothespins on the nipples. My wrists were effectively tied to my ankles, which were in turn tied in a way that forced my knees apart, exposing my pussy. I had done better than I had ever imagined. I writhed for a little while, struggling.

My ties were complete. I was secure, and it was going to be damn hard to get out of. The elbow ropes were the surprise to me; the effectively stopped me from moving my wrists around to reach the knots. I hadn't bargained on this and I began to wonder how I was going to get out of this.

OK. Yeah. I was 14, and naive. Really naive. I may have prepared for this play session and set things up for a secure self bondage session but I hadn't thought far enough ahead to make sure I could get out of it.  Panic rippled across my body and I started struggling and writhing. I saw the clock. Two hours had passed, my parents would be home in two hours and find me here! Excuses ran through my head, explanations. A rogue rapist had broken into the house and tied me up. That was it, I could explain it that way. Except the house was locked from the inside and there was no break in. What was I going to do?

The ropes were tight, and I wriggled my hands to try and get free. My jaw was hurting from how far wide it was being held open; I bit down on the panties and socks, that helped a bit. My nipples were burning with a deep pain that was turning into numbness. My legs were cramping, and when they cramped I automatically tried to move them out straight, which pulled on the wrist cinch until my hands hurt, badly.  I started to cry. I tried to yell. Nope... the gag was a good one. It muffled the sound.

Finally, I stopped. It was time to get real and think. There was only one way out that I could think of, it was a long shot but I had to try.  I had to get a knife from the kitchen and cut myself loose.

If you have ever been in a hogtie, you will know that it isn't easy to travel in it. Small movements can be made with a lot of effort. The most effective way to move is to roll to one side, scoot legs forward then roll to the other side, and so on. When I got into the hall, I tried rolling all the way over onto my back. It was humiliating, as my body arched up, pushing my hips into the air with my legs spread wide as if I were welcoming some guy to fuck me.

It was incredibly slow going, and every move made the ropes tighter. About a half hour later and most of the way down the hall my right nipple clamp rubbed off and I screamed in pain. I had no idea that taking the clamps off would be more painful than putting them on; I lay there on the hall carpet and sobbed into my gag for a bit and then pressed my other breast down and wriggled until that clamp came off as well. I screamed again and then began wriggling down the hall toward the kitchen.

In the kitchen, I was faced with a difficulty. The knives were sitting in a knife block on the counter. The counter was about 3 feet higher than I was. I lay looking at the knives and cried, tears running down my face and over the tape of my self imposed gag.

There was a footstool in the corner. That was the only option. Slowly, painfully, I wriggled over to it. When I reached it I pushed it with my head, two or three inches at a time. It finally made it over to the counter.

My whole body ached and cramped. It hurt horribly. My left leg had a charlie horse, and my shoulders ached as well. My jaw ached from the gag. I writhed, feeling the wetness between my legs which indicated I was still aroused beyond belief.

Right then, at that moment, I decided I needed a boyfriend to help me. I wasn't going to tie myself up again. I needed a guy to be there, to control me. It made sense. I wanted to feel helpless and I was amazed at how horny I was tied up like this, but I also knew I needed to be submitting to someone else, not just tying myself up.  Strangely, this thought motivated me and I started the task of getting my body up onto the first step of the stepstool.

My breasts rested on the first step, flattened out on display. The metal edge of the step scraped against my ribs as I wriggled a few inches higher, leaning against the step. Inch by inch I pushed my body higher, leaning against the steps.

Thank god there was a plate at the top, next to the block of knives. I pushed it with my head and the knives slid. I pushed and maneuvered until finally the knives fell from the counter to the floor with a loud clatter. I literally threw myself down off the step stool and landed on the floor next to the knives. I got one in my hand (which was numb) and started sawing.

The clock on the wall said I had 10 minutes. I sawed faster. It wasn't working. I was getting the barest bit of rope to separate. At this rate it was going to take an hour. I fumbled around, feeling the knives, finally finding one with a serrated edge. That one worked better. The rope began to fray and stretch. I sawed harder, unable to be very effective because of limited movement. Suddenly, my legs straightened out. The rope from my ankles to my wrists had given way and I was no longer bent back. I let out a muffled whoop and then cry as the cramps rolled through my naked body once again.

Once the rope around my wrists was cut away from my ankles, I was able to work them free. I was then able to roll and move the elbow restraints and finally undo my ankles. When the gag came off it hurt like the dickens, the tape taking some of the hair behind my neck with it. The panties and socks came out, and I was free.

The parents were 10 minutes late. I gathered the remnants of rope, tape and gag together and limped to my room. I hid the remains of my bondage, lay down on the bed, spread my legs wide and started masturbating furiously. I came in less than a minute, after which I lay panting and recovered from my experience.

When my parents came home a few minutes later I was showering. I was bruised, had some minor scrapes, but was none the worse for the bondage.

I knew what I wanted then. And I also knew I needed someone else to play with in order to get it.
My first experience trying to tie myself up was unsatisfactory in that I never really achieved a complete helplessness. At the time, I didn't think it could be achieved, but felt that I wanted it. I began daydreaming about being tied up in ways that I could not escape from.

I did a little research, and played with knots when I could. My parents and brother were usually home and I couldn't really do much with them around, but I actually learned some things in the privacy of my own room. Then one day, my parents and brother went out and were not scheduled to return until dinner time. I had a solid four hours to play alone, and I prepared for it.

The parents left, telling me not to get into trouble. I was 14, a freshman in high school, and was still a virgin but just barely. I had been dating a couple of guys informally and sneaked out to see one of them when I could. I could easily have gotten one of them over to get into trouble, but at this point I wanted to see what I could do alone.

This time, I stripped first. The experience before was exciting and turned me on, a lot. I wanted to experience that again. The sensation of being naked increased my sense of daring, as well as making me feel vulnerable and excited. I was wet between my legs before I removed my panties. Touching myself with my hand, I rubbed my clit for a while, just feeling the sensation of being completely naked in the house, and the sensual turn on of anticipating being tied up.

I began with my ankles. It was an easy decision. This time though, I crossed my ankles before tying, and used the rope to crisscross the ankles. This spread my legs while still tying me securely. I tested the tie a bit, making sure it was secure, and then played with myself for a while, masturbating and  taking the wetness on my fingers to my nipples.

Next, I took some panties from my laundry. They weren't "dirty", but they weren't fresh either. I put them in my mouth, pushing the cloth deep inside the cavity of my left cheek, then inside the center over my tongue, and then pushing into my right cheek. It wasn't nearly enough. I could feel that the gag wasn't complete, so I got up to find some more cloth.

And fell over, because my ankles were tied. DUH. Rather than untie and retie my ankles, I dragged myself over to my laundry and sorted through for something suitable. All I found was a pair of gym socks. I considered briefly whether I wanted them stuffed inside my mouth and decided it would have to do. Restuffing my panties in, I followed them with the socks. When I was done, my cheeks were bulging and my tongue was pushed down and back, my mouth was so full. I dragged myself back to my desk where I had some wide silver tape I had gotten from my dad's tool box.

The cloth kept coming out. I stuffed it back in and then started wrapping the tape around my wide open but full mouth. My hair was tied back in a pony so it wasn't too hard to get the tape all around my head and around my mouth several times. After about 10 wraps around, I decided it was secure and stopped for a bit to consider my next move.

That gag was strong and effective. I couldn't make much noise. I sat on the floor with my knees spread and masturbated some more. The feeling of helplessness I wanted was coming on and exciting me as I moved my fingers inside myself, pushing and sliding over my clit. My nipples were hard. I pinched them, and felt a surge of pleasure and excitement. I pinched them harder, feeling a little pain that simply excited me more. It was then I had another idea.

Mouth gagged securely and ankles tied I dragged myself into the bathroom next to my own room. There I found a basket that contained what I wanted - clothespins. I grabbed a handful and dragged myself back to my room. I was getting rug burn and realized I wasn't as prepared as I thought I was. Time to get a move on.


One clothespin in hand, I pulled and massaged one erect nipple to its fullest and then placed the clamp on it. As the spring pressed down and closed on the sensitive flesh, I emitted a muffled yelp! It hurt a lot more than I thought it would. I quickly removed the pin, and yelped again as it came off. Wow, that was intense. But I wanted it, desperately. Weirder and weirder I thought, but I was so hot and aroused by now I could take the pain. I put the clamp back on my left nipple, cringing at the pain and waiting a moment before massaging my right breast, pulling the nipple out and clamping it as well.

Fuck, it hurt. But strangely as I sat there and felt the pain, it seemed to diminish. It ached, but I could take it.

I took a rope down from the top of my desk. It had been pretied in a way I had learned by doing a little research. It was a way of tying my wrists by using a knot that was already tied in a loop, then just pulling the loop tight.  I had already thought through how to pull on the loop to tighten around my wrists. The other end of the rope would go around my ankles, of course!  They would naturally pull and tighten the loop, right?

One end of the rope went around my ankles. It was looped, not tied. I pulled on it to make sure it was secure around my ankles and then moved away to a pre-tied rope that was on the floor next to me. This was the special treat of which I was so proud; I had played with it before to get it right.

It was a sort of figure 8 tie, that had two loops on each end with the rope wrapped in the middle. The loops would cinch tighter if pulled (though not a lot, I hadn't gotten that part perfected yet). Reaching my arms behind my back I slid each loop of the figure 8 over one of my hands. By pushing and rolling the ropes higher, I managed to get them up to my elbows before my arms couldnt stand it any more and I relaxed, spreading my elbows apart and cinching the rope tight around my arms. My elbows were now about a foot or so apart behind my back.

I lay there for a moment. My hands were still free but the tie around my elbows had restricted me, a lot. My breathing was fast and shallow, partly from the effort I had put into getting the elbow ropes on, and partly because I was so aroused. I wanted to cum but reaching my clit was no longer possible. It was time for the last step.

I lay on my side and bent my knees as much as I could. The rope that went around my ankles and ended in the wrist loops was too short; I needed to get my feet further up. I wriggled to where I could press my knees against the desk for support and then curved and bent my back so that I could reach my hands all the way to my feet. I grabbed the loops (there was one for each wrist with a wrapping in between) and managed to get my wrists into them.

It had been a huge struggle to get myself tied and I finally relaxed. As I relaxed, my legs moved away from my wrists a few inches and pulled the cinch tie tight. Whamo! I felt it immediately. The rope encircled my wrists, my body naturally pulling my legs away and keeping the cinch tight. Wow, it felt good. I was helpless.

I lay on my side, panting a bit. I had successfully and unwittingly placed myself into a rather tight, constricting hogtie. It felt marvelous. I wriggled, and all it did was make the ropes tighter. I rolled onto my stomach, and felt my legs sag down and pull my arms back and shoulders up. I was in an inverted curve and either my shoulders would be pulled back or my legs would have to be pushed up.

The clothespins on my nipples continued to hurt, but not nearly as badly as when I had first put them on. The flesh ached, and I realized for the first time that my self tie prevented me from stopping the pain. My wrists and hands were aching from the tight ropes which constricted blood flow. I forced myself back to relieve some of the tightness, and got no relief.

I rolled over again, considering my predicament. I was stark naked on the floor of my room. My breasts jutted out in front of me, with clothespins on the nipples. My wrists were effectively tied to my ankles, which were in turn tied in a way that forced my knees apart, exposing my pussy. I had done better than I had ever imagined. I writhed for a little while, struggling.

My ties were complete. I was secure, and it was going to be damn hard to get out of. The elbow ropes were the surprise to me; the effectively stopped me from moving my wrists around to reach the knots. I hadn't bargained on this and I began to wonder how I was going to get out of this.

OK. Yeah. I was 14, and naive. Really naive. I may have prepared for this play session and set things up for a secure self bondage session but I hadn't thought far enough ahead to make sure I could get out of it.  Panic rippled across my body and I started struggling and writhing. I saw the clock. Two hours had passed, my parents would be home in two hours and find me here! Excuses ran through my head, explanations. A rogue rapist had broken into the house and tied me up. That was it, I could explain it that way. Except the house was locked from the inside and there was no break in. What was I going to do?

The ropes were tight, and I wriggled my hands to try and get free. My jaw was hurting from how far wide it was being held open; I bit down on the panties and socks, that helped a bit. My nipples were burning with a deep pain that was turning into numbness. My legs were cramping, and when they cramped I automatically tried to move them out straight, which pulled on the wrist cinch until my hands hurt, badly.  I started to cry. I tried to yell. Nope... the gag was a good one. It muffled the sound.

Finally, I stopped. It was time to get real and think. There was only one way out that I could think of, it was a long shot but I had to try.  I had to get a knife from the kitchen and cut myself loose.

If you have ever been in a hogtie, you will know that it isn't easy to travel in it. Small movements can be made with a lot of effort. The most effective way to move is to roll to one side, scoot legs forward then roll to the other side, and so on. When I got into the hall, I tried rolling all the way over onto my back. It was humiliating, as my body arched up, pushing my hips into the air with my legs spread wide as if I were welcoming some guy to fuck me.

It was incredibly slow going, and every move made the ropes tighter. About a half hour later and most of the way down the hall my right nipple clamp rubbed off and I screamed in pain. I had no idea that taking the clamps off would be more painful than putting them on; I lay there on the hall carpet and sobbed into my gag for a bit and then pressed my other breast down and wriggled until that clamp came off as well. I screamed again and then began wriggling down the hall toward the kitchen.

In the kitchen, I was faced with a difficulty. The knives were sitting in a knife block on the counter. The counter was about 3 feet higher than I was. I lay looking at the knives and cried, tears running down my face and over the tape of my self imposed gag.

There was a footstool in the corner. That was the only option. Slowly, painfully, I wriggled over to it. When I reached it I pushed it with my head, two or three inches at a time. It finally made it over to the counter.

My whole body ached and cramped. It hurt horribly. My left leg had a charlie horse, and my shoulders ached as well. My jaw ached from the gag. I writhed, feeling the wetness between my legs which indicated I was still aroused beyond belief.

Right then, at that moment, I decided I needed a boyfriend to help me. I wasn't going to tie myself up again. I needed a guy to be there, to control me. It made sense. I wanted to feel helpless and I was amazed at how horny I was tied up like this, but I also knew I needed to be submitting to someone else, not just tying myself up.  Strangely, this thought motivated me and I started the task of getting my body up onto the first step of the stepstool.

My breasts rested on the first step, flattened out on display. The metal edge of the step scraped against my ribs as I wriggled a few inches higher, leaning against the step. Inch by inch I pushed my body higher, leaning against the steps.

Thank god there was a plate at the top, next to the block of knives. I pushed it with my head and the knives slid. I pushed and maneuvered until finally the knives fell from the counter to the floor with a loud clatter. I literally threw myself down off the step stool and landed on the floor next to the knives. I got one in my hand (which was numb) and started sawing.

The clock on the wall said I had 10 minutes. I sawed faster. It wasn't working. I was getting the barest bit of rope to separate. At this rate it was going to take an hour. I fumbled around, feeling the knives, finally finding one with a serrated edge. That one worked better. The rope began to fray and stretch. I sawed harder, unable to be very effective because of limited movement. Suddenly, my legs straightened out. The rope from my ankles to my wrists had given way and I was no longer bent back. I let out a muffled whoop and then cry as the cramps rolled through my naked body once again.

Once the rope around my wrists was cut away from my ankles, I was able to work them free. I was then able to roll and move the elbow restraints and finally undo my ankles. When the gag came off it hurt like the dickens, the tape taking some of the hair behind my neck with it. The panties and socks came out, and I was free.

The parents were 10 minutes late. I gathered the remnants of rope, tape and gag together and limped to my room. I hid the remains of my bondage, lay down on the bed, spread my legs wide and started masturbating furiously. I came in less than a minute, after which I lay panting and recovered from my experience.

When my parents came home a few minutes later I was showering. I was bruised, had some minor scrapes, but was none the worse for the bondage.

I knew what I wanted then. And I also knew I needed someone else to play with in order to get it.
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Self Discovery

I have been asked numerous times how I became involved in bondage, pain, and eventually into a submissive relationship that is entirely and completely fulfilling. So, here are some of my memories and recollections. Ultimately, there is no reason why. There is no triggering event, no special perversion caused by an abusive parent. There was simply a growing and passionate desire for certain things.

My earliest memory of bondage was when I was still pretty young; before I started dating any boys. I was a virgin, and while kissing behind the gym was an interesting new activity I was far from being sexually active. Yes, I had matured well, had breasts and an overall womanly shape with long dark hair, and was even considered a bit of a slut by kids in school (they were jealous, mostly).  Let me also be clear. At this point in my life I didn't even know that bondage and SM existed as a fetish. I had seen no pictures, read no stories, never talked of it, and was unaware that it was a sensual activity engaged in by anyone.

My family lived in a decent lower middle class house with a two car garage. We only had one car, so the other half of the garage was dedicated to a lot of the usual junk. It was there that one day I found some rope. A long, soft length of rope. I had entered using the back door from the back yard, and the main front door that tipped up for cars was down, and it was dark and quiet. A single light bulb from the back lit the unfinished interior.

I remember sitting on the floor in my jeans and playing with knots. In order to get a good position for the rope I wrapped it around my ankles and then practiced tying various knots. Wriggling to get out, I found it rather easy to loosen the knot or stretch the rope and get free. So, I wrapped the rope tighter around my ankles a few more times, providing a sturdier based and tried a different knot technique (I was completely naive to knots and was making things up as I went along).

There came a point when I had the rope around my ankles and knees, with a tie at the ankles and was working on the knot at the knees when the most horrible of noises came -- the front garage door had its bolt slid out and moments later the springs creaked as it slowly lifted up. I was sitting on the floor half tied and desperately trying to undo the knots as the door rose and my older brother walked in. My cheeks were burning with embarrassment, and the rope was rapidly removed.

"Whatcha doin?" My brother looked at me with idle interest. He didn't really care what his younger sister was doing that much.

"Uh, I was just bored. Wanted to see if I could tie some knots. What are you doing here, perv?" And that was that. I forget what happened after that, but whatever it was, was unremarkable and passed quickly.

What stayed with me was the feeling I had while my legs had been tied up like that. There was this desire to see if I could really tie myself up and truly restrict myself. The desire wasn't pure, either, it was something dark that I knew wasn't going to be accepted or condoned and was humiliated when it was discovered. I knew that the sensation I had as I felt my legs bound and restricted was exciting to me in a very new way. What was more strange was how excited I felt being discovered; the humiliation that I had experienced when my brother walked in was like a huge adrenalin rush and stuck with me.

I didn't realize it at the time, but it was a sexual rush.

Being discovered playing with the rope was a huge rush and made the whole experience exciting. I wasn't stupid though, and I knew that if I was to try to do this again and was discovered again, it might result in interference. Like, my parents being told, and maybe being sent to a councilor or punished or yelled at. So, I was more careful the next time. This meant waiting until there was no one to interrupt me, which took a while. It eventually came when my parents were visiting my grandparents for the afternoon, and my brother had gone off to be in some music thing he had. I was alone for several hours.

It never struck me as strange at the time, and maybe doesn't even strike me as strange now given my life style, but I had been waiting weeks for the opportunity to try self bondage again. During these weeks I had thought of various reasons why I had found the tie easy to get out of, and how to improve it. I also imagined how it could be extended. The idea of both my legs and arms being restrained appealed to me, excited me, and was part of my agenda that afternoon.

I locked the doors to the garage this time; it would be easier to explain why I was in there with doors locked than why I was trussed up like a chicken, should someone come home early. Sitting on the floor with the rope, I began.

Looping the rope and then wrapping it around my ankles and then threading back through the rope a couple of times created a very tight tie with 8 loops of rope around my ankles. I wriggled, found it getting loose and tightened it until it hurt a bit. The pain felt satisfying, because I knew the rope was tight enough it wouldn't come off. I didn't realize it but the pain also gave me a shot of adrenalin and enhanced the experience; pain was accepted then and continued to be accepted as part of the bondage experience for me ever since.

Stretching the two strands of rope up and then around my knees I performed the same looping, threading and tightening. I tied it off and sat there for a bit, concentrating on the helpless feeling in my legs. It was satisfying. It felt good, in the oddest way I couldn't explain.

It wasn't enough though. I needed more. My legs were immobile (I rolled around on the floor a bit to see just how immobile), but the rest of my body was free and I could feel how that diminished the entire experience. Something was wrong. I needed to tie my wrists.

Sitting on the floor, my legs bent at the knees so I sat slightly crooked, I tied my wrists in front of me. That was tough. Really, tough. You need at least one free hand to tie a knot. I managed to wrap rope around my wrists and pull it tight, but a knot was impossible. I simply wrapped the rope around about 10 times and threaded it through as much as I could, and decided that was enough.

Sitting with my legs tied was uncomfortable so I lay down. My hands tied helped, and the experience was getting closer to what I knew I desired deep down-- being bound and helpless. Still, it wasn't there. I sat up and attempted to retie my hands behind my back. This was better-- the feeling of helplessness was stronger, and I was getting aroused. This was the first time I realized that being bound and helpless was sexually arousing to me; it didn't seem odd because I was still discovering my sexuality and everything seemed new and exciting.

I lay down on the floor for a while, feeling the experience of being pseudo-restrained. My legs were secure, but my wrists were an illusion. I could live with that for a while, but the experience wasn't complete.

All in all, I spent about 2 hours in the garage, trying to get the ropes tighter, the knots more secure, actually trying to get a good knot in my wrists so I couldn't just wriggle out. The whole experience was incredibly exciting, arousing, and tantalizing to me.

While I was tied, I actually spent some time getting the handle of a broom between my legs (I was still wearing jeans) and getting it to rub. Once I got it between my legs and extending through and pressing against my crotch, my hands (tied behind) grabbed it and managed to move it back and forth a little. The whole experiment was turning more and more into a sexual exploration.

Realizing I didn't know how much time had passed and I needed to stop, I wriggled free of the rope around my wrists, and undid the rope around my legs. The clock inside the house indicated I probably had an hour to spare but it was a good, safe time to stop. One thing was crystal clear from this experience: I was excited by being restrained, and wanted to try it again. A lot. It was also clear that it was a sexual thing and that I would spend more thought into how I could incorporate this into my next play session.

And it was absolutely for certain that I would play again.
I have been asked numerous times how I became involved in bondage, pain, and eventually into a submissive relationship that is entirely and completely fulfilling. So, here are some of my memories and recollections. Ultimately, there is no reason why. There is no triggering event, no special perversion caused by an abusive parent. There was simply a growing and passionate desire for certain things.

My earliest memory of bondage was when I was still pretty young; before I started dating any boys. I was a virgin, and while kissing behind the gym was an interesting new activity I was far from being sexually active. Yes, I had matured well, had breasts and an overall womanly shape with long dark hair, and was even considered a bit of a slut by kids in school (they were jealous, mostly).  Let me also be clear. At this point in my life I didn't even know that bondage and SM existed as a fetish. I had seen no pictures, read no stories, never talked of it, and was unaware that it was a sensual activity engaged in by anyone.

My family lived in a decent lower middle class house with a two car garage. We only had one car, so the other half of the garage was dedicated to a lot of the usual junk. It was there that one day I found some rope. A long, soft length of rope. I had entered using the back door from the back yard, and the main front door that tipped up for cars was down, and it was dark and quiet. A single light bulb from the back lit the unfinished interior.

I remember sitting on the floor in my jeans and playing with knots. In order to get a good position for the rope I wrapped it around my ankles and then practiced tying various knots. Wriggling to get out, I found it rather easy to loosen the knot or stretch the rope and get free. So, I wrapped the rope tighter around my ankles a few more times, providing a sturdier based and tried a different knot technique (I was completely naive to knots and was making things up as I went along).

There came a point when I had the rope around my ankles and knees, with a tie at the ankles and was working on the knot at the knees when the most horrible of noises came -- the front garage door had its bolt slid out and moments later the springs creaked as it slowly lifted up. I was sitting on the floor half tied and desperately trying to undo the knots as the door rose and my older brother walked in. My cheeks were burning with embarrassment, and the rope was rapidly removed.

"Whatcha doin?" My brother looked at me with idle interest. He didn't really care what his younger sister was doing that much.

"Uh, I was just bored. Wanted to see if I could tie some knots. What are you doing here, perv?" And that was that. I forget what happened after that, but whatever it was, was unremarkable and passed quickly.

What stayed with me was the feeling I had while my legs had been tied up like that. There was this desire to see if I could really tie myself up and truly restrict myself. The desire wasn't pure, either, it was something dark that I knew wasn't going to be accepted or condoned and was humiliated when it was discovered. I knew that the sensation I had as I felt my legs bound and restricted was exciting to me in a very new way. What was more strange was how excited I felt being discovered; the humiliation that I had experienced when my brother walked in was like a huge adrenalin rush and stuck with me.

I didn't realize it at the time, but it was a sexual rush.

Being discovered playing with the rope was a huge rush and made the whole experience exciting. I wasn't stupid though, and I knew that if I was to try to do this again and was discovered again, it might result in interference. Like, my parents being told, and maybe being sent to a councilor or punished or yelled at. So, I was more careful the next time. This meant waiting until there was no one to interrupt me, which took a while. It eventually came when my parents were visiting my grandparents for the afternoon, and my brother had gone off to be in some music thing he had. I was alone for several hours.

It never struck me as strange at the time, and maybe doesn't even strike me as strange now given my life style, but I had been waiting weeks for the opportunity to try self bondage again. During these weeks I had thought of various reasons why I had found the tie easy to get out of, and how to improve it. I also imagined how it could be extended. The idea of both my legs and arms being restrained appealed to me, excited me, and was part of my agenda that afternoon.

I locked the doors to the garage this time; it would be easier to explain why I was in there with doors locked than why I was trussed up like a chicken, should someone come home early. Sitting on the floor with the rope, I began.

Looping the rope and then wrapping it around my ankles and then threading back through the rope a couple of times created a very tight tie with 8 loops of rope around my ankles. I wriggled, found it getting loose and tightened it until it hurt a bit. The pain felt satisfying, because I knew the rope was tight enough it wouldn't come off. I didn't realize it but the pain also gave me a shot of adrenalin and enhanced the experience; pain was accepted then and continued to be accepted as part of the bondage experience for me ever since.

Stretching the two strands of rope up and then around my knees I performed the same looping, threading and tightening. I tied it off and sat there for a bit, concentrating on the helpless feeling in my legs. It was satisfying. It felt good, in the oddest way I couldn't explain.

It wasn't enough though. I needed more. My legs were immobile (I rolled around on the floor a bit to see just how immobile), but the rest of my body was free and I could feel how that diminished the entire experience. Something was wrong. I needed to tie my wrists.

Sitting on the floor, my legs bent at the knees so I sat slightly crooked, I tied my wrists in front of me. That was tough. Really, tough. You need at least one free hand to tie a knot. I managed to wrap rope around my wrists and pull it tight, but a knot was impossible. I simply wrapped the rope around about 10 times and threaded it through as much as I could, and decided that was enough.

Sitting with my legs tied was uncomfortable so I lay down. My hands tied helped, and the experience was getting closer to what I knew I desired deep down-- being bound and helpless. Still, it wasn't there. I sat up and attempted to retie my hands behind my back. This was better-- the feeling of helplessness was stronger, and I was getting aroused. This was the first time I realized that being bound and helpless was sexually arousing to me; it didn't seem odd because I was still discovering my sexuality and everything seemed new and exciting.

I lay down on the floor for a while, feeling the experience of being pseudo-restrained. My legs were secure, but my wrists were an illusion. I could live with that for a while, but the experience wasn't complete.

All in all, I spent about 2 hours in the garage, trying to get the ropes tighter, the knots more secure, actually trying to get a good knot in my wrists so I couldn't just wriggle out. The whole experience was incredibly exciting, arousing, and tantalizing to me.

While I was tied, I actually spent some time getting the handle of a broom between my legs (I was still wearing jeans) and getting it to rub. Once I got it between my legs and extending through and pressing against my crotch, my hands (tied behind) grabbed it and managed to move it back and forth a little. The whole experiment was turning more and more into a sexual exploration.

Realizing I didn't know how much time had passed and I needed to stop, I wriggled free of the rope around my wrists, and undid the rope around my legs. The clock inside the house indicated I probably had an hour to spare but it was a good, safe time to stop. One thing was crystal clear from this experience: I was excited by being restrained, and wanted to try it again. A lot. It was also clear that it was a sexual thing and that I would spend more thought into how I could incorporate this into my next play session.

And it was absolutely for certain that I would play again.
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House Party

Life was difficult for me after returning from the pony farm. The intense training there had left its mark and I discovered a number of things.

First of all, I had been naked for more than two weeks. Wearing clothes felt raspy and unnatural for a while. I sat in my office and in meetings adjusting my tight clothing, feeling confined and uncomfortable. I could tell that other workers noticed me and wondered but it was not to be helped. Some of the guys appeared to look at me with new interest as I wriggled in my clothing.

My body had become thinner, harder, and more muscular during the hard work as a pony girl. I liked that, and enjoyed the way people looked at me, especially Jason, who appreciated me and insisted that I be naked virtually all the time at home.

I quickly picked up the habit of urinating and defecating in a toilet again; the use of my straw covered stall for these activities faded. I never quite looked at a toilet the same, though, and had to fight urges to just let go and pee in the middle of meetings for a few weeks.

Lastly, I found it easier to be obedient to Jason. The lessons and training I had as a pony girl stuck with me, and the absolute obedience came more naturally. I knelt before him in the submissive posture without even a tiny bit of hesitation, and worked hard to assure that his every command was followed.

Of all the things I missed from the pony farm, I missed  Kerry. My relationship with her had gone deep to my heart, though I had spoken only a few words with her. I felt like we were meant to be together. She was my match, and I wanted to be with her again as a partner in work and in sex. Prior to being a pony and working with her I had never really understand what a lesbian relationship was about, and now I realized that a solid emotional and physical connection bound the two of us.

Two weeks after returning, Jason called me over and had me kneel in front of him as he sat on the couch. I was naked, as I was virtually all the time while inside the house, and a leash was attached to my permanent slave collar.

"My dearest Siobhan, we have been invited to Steve and Diane's across the street for a house party tomorrow evening. It promises to be quite enjoyable."

I raised my head and looked at Jason, "Yes, I like Steve and Diane very much. I would like to visit. Should I prepare something to take?"

"I think a bottle of wine should be all. Diane will prepare the dinner; she and Steve have been experimenting with the alternative life style and she is ready to begin a role as a more constant submissive. I think they have switched a bit, but it is working out better this way. In any case, it should be interesting. Steve and I may have some fun with you and Diane."

A small chill of anticipation tainted by a bit of dread ran through my stomach. "Jason, you will watch out for me, won't you? I mean, I trust you, but we haven't played with them before and I am not sure... I am a little cautious."

"Siobhan, as always, I love and protect you. However, remember your place," Jason took on a stern tone. "I own you. You are my property and I expect you to obey absolutely. How I treat you and what I allow is up to me and is not to be questioned by you."

"Of course, Jason. I am sorry for my hesitation." I lowered my eyes and bowed my head. Jason caressed my breasts for a moment and then gently pulled my left nipple out, stretching and elongating it; he then placed a clamp on the distended flesh and I gasped slightly from the initial pain. He repeated the action with my right nipple, and I knelt motionless on the floor before him as the pain slowly subsided into an ache.

He lifted my face up and leaned down to kiss me. His kisses always gave me delight and made me feel wonderful. More and more recently, he had only shown affection or had intimate relations with me when I was bound or in some sort of discomfort or pain; as a result I had found myself desiring pain more and more. I wanted his approval and attention desperately, and if pain was required for him to show it then I desired the pain.

----

The evening of the house party as Steve and Diane's arrived, and I prepared myself. I wore a sheer black dress that came to mid-thigh, a bra and panties. My shoes were leather flats, nice but not too fancy. I felt good about myself and the way I looked. The dress showed off my body. Jason would be proud to be seen with me and that pleased me immensely.

We walked across the street together and Jason knocked on our neighbor's door. Diane answered the door and I was immediately taken aback with surprise. She was wearing nothing but a leather harness which wrapped around her breasts, hips and between her legs. Diane has a very curvy figure, and the leather straps brought out her innate sensuality. I stared for a bit. I had never seen her naked before, in spite of the fact that I had pleasured her between her legs with my tongue (she had simply hiked her skirt up for that event).

Diane was blushing and kept her eyes down to the ground as she admitted Jason and I. Steve came over and greeted Jason. Diane closed the door and stood staring at the ground, obviously uncomfortable. She was holding her hands and arms in those awkward positions when you want to cover yourself but realize it is impossible, that complete nudity can't be covered with two hands. I felt a pang of sympathy for her and wriggled close, taking and squeezing her hand. "You look lovely, you don't need to feel embarrassed in front of me," I whispered to her. She looked up at me gratefully.

"Siobhan, why don't you go help Diane in the kitchen?" Jason suggested in a voice which wasn't really a suggestion. I nodded and the two of us headed off to the kitchen to finish preparing and serving dinner.

"Oh, Siobhan, I am so glad to see you. You have made me feel better. This is so new to me, being subservient to Steve!" Diane immediately started talking as we reached the kitchen and began placing food into serving dishes.

"Diane, it's quite all right. If you had seen me a week ago, you would not be embarrassed at all. A week ago I was wearing a leather halter, a bit in my mouth, tail coming out of my ass, peeing on the ground, and pulling wagons of chopped wood."

"Oh, you must tell me all about it! Did you really do all that?" Diane turned to face me, looking at me with wonder. I proceeded to tell her all the details of my time as a real, working pony girl. By the time we were done serving dinner to the table, Diane had lost much of her shyness, though when the men came to the table and we all sat down, she once again cast her eyes down and stopped talking.

Steve is an extremely mild mannered man of about 40, tall, thin and dark. Diane is a smiling, happy woman of about 32, only a few years older than I. I have always felt some attraction to both of them, Steve being a little older but still very handsome and fit. Diane has large breasts and long hair, an hourglass figure and strong legs. Seeing her naked as we ate, I had trouble paying attention to Jason, as my eyes kept wandering over to view Diane's amazing body.

When dinner was over, Jason turned to me and said casually, "My dear, I don't think it is fair for Diane to be naked this whole time while we are all clothed. Why don't you undress for us?"

After nearly three weeks at the human pony farm, being naked wasn't troublesome for me. I pulled my dress off, then removed my bra and panties. In moments I stood before Jason, completely naked except for my wedding ring, ear studs, and slave collar. Steve whistled in appreciation, making me blush with pleasure. I was proud to be Jason's and for others to appreciate what he owned.

Steve came over and began to examine my body in some detail. After asking permission from Jason, he touched my flesh, sliding along my ass, spreading my ass cheeks to examine between and below them. At his direction I bent over and spread my legs, and Steve examined my pussy (which was moist from the attention). It felt awkward being examined like this by my neighbor, but Jason had ordered it and I obeyed.

When Steve was done, Jason made a suggestion. "Siobhan, I couldn't help but notice that you have been somewhat smitten by our beautiful Diane. You could hardly take your eyes off her during dinner! I think I would like to see you kiss her."

My eyes must have grown at the suggestion as both men laughed at my reaction. I turned and looked at Diane, who had her eyes cast down once again in a posture of submissive shyness. I stepped over to her and lifted her face to mine (I am slightly taller), and gently kissed her lips, slowly and gently but becoming more urgent and passionate. I was trying to let her know it was OK and that she and I were in this together and could actually enjoy it if she was willing. Our naked breasts touched, my nipples immediately became hard and I could feel her sigh, slightly.

"Diane! Show Siobhan the gift I gave you today!" Steve seemed rather excited. Diane blushed deep and left the room for a moment. I stood naked, as both men sat and observed me, sipping drinks and talking about some of the marks left on my skin from my experiences as a pony girl. When Diane returned, she had a fairly large dildo in her hand; it was the kind that was made to look, and more specifically to feel, real.

"Show Siobhan how it is used, Diane." Steve calmly ordered. Diane turned bright red and stuttered out a slight protest, "Steve... I am not sure I can do that, now, here--"

Steve interrupted her, "Diane. Don't embarrass me and yourself with disobedience in front of our neighbors. There. On the chair. Now."

Diane moved slowly to a large chair. She sat down and leaned back, spreading her legs wide and over the arms of the chair, exposing herself to all of us. She was shaved nicely, and a slight glistening around her pussy lips showed that she had become aroused. She closed her eyes as if to block out her surroundings and took the large phallus and began working it between the soft lips between her thighs. She slid the dildo up and down at first, slowly relaxing and working between and then into her pussy. The deeper it went, the more obviously wet she became, and it wasn't long before she was sliding it rhythmically in and out, a slight movement of her hips accompanying the thrusts inside.

We watched her, the two men sitting on the couch and I standing in the middle of the living room. She continued, showing her masturbation technique as she became more and more aroused. Her breathing became faster, nipples hardened and all at once she arched her back and neck, a soft mewling noise coming from her wide open mouth. She thrust the dildo in a few more times, and finally slowed and removed the phallus. Her eyes opened and she seemed to realize where she was and suddenly flushed bright red and hung her head.

"Very good, Steve, your wife seems to be doing well!" Jason exclaimed at the show Diane had just completed. I was standing obediently to the side, watching and appreciating the show. Diane looked at me quickly from the corner of her eyes as if my presence embarrassed her most of all. Then men continued to discuss some of the details of Diane's activity.

"Steve, I think it is unfair to have Diane pleasure herself without also giving Siobhan the opportunity." Jason suggested. "I think we need to have her give us the same show, don't you think?"

"Yes, Jason, but if you might let me suggest something; we have a little additional paraphernalia that might be of interest. Diane, will you go get the belt?" Steve's quiet voice instructed Diane, who opened her mouth as if to protest for a moment and then shut it, bowed her head and then left the room.

"Siobhan, will you stand before us please?" Steve instructed. As Jason did not contradict him, I moved to the center of the room, facing them. I had long since learned to stand naked and on display before men without trying to hide any part of my body.

Diane returned almost immediate and when I saw what she had in her hands, I realized what was in store. The dildo had been placed in a strap on harness. The harness was rather ineptly strapped around Diane's waist and the phallus extended out from her groin, drooping a little.

"Oh, how delightful Steve! This is perfect, I must say! Yes, yes... Siobhan, get on all fours before us, and spread your legs!" Jason was excited and quickly ordered me to prepare to be fucked.

"Sir, may I suggest adjusting her strap on? I think it will help some." I moved to Diane, who had obviously never worn a device like this, and proceeded to adjust the straps around her hips and thighs. They needed to be placed higher, and made tighter so that Diane's hip movement would be translated into confident dildo thrusts. Unlike Diane, I did have some experience with the device.

When I was done, I obeyed my husband and knelt before the men, then lowered myself so that I was on hands and knees, my legs spread slightly so that my pussy was well exposed. Diane knelt behind me and cautiously, ever so cautiously placed the tip of the dildo against my lips. I could tell she was afraid of hurting me, and was being very careful. I urged her on by slowly pressing back against the rubber dong, adding pressure which enabled it to penetrate me deeply. I grunted slightly and Diane immediately withdrew most of the way.

The men sat on the sofa, observing all of this with great delight. My breasts hung down and while they aren't nearly as large as Diane's, they still wobbled a bit as Diane began regular thrusts. The dildo was a good one, made with natural feeling material with a roughness that made it nicely stimulating. I moved my body together with Diane's thrusts, enjoying the experience. I even enjoyed being observed by the two men, showing off my body in this activity.

My breathing was come quicker, and I had closed my eyes for a moment when I felt something against my face and lips. I opened my eyes and saw that Jason had slipped his pants down around his ankles and exposed his rock hard cock. He was pressing it toward my mouth. I opened wide and it slipped inside just as Diane thrust in, pushing me forward. His member slid deep within my mouth and down my throat a bit before I was prepared and I gagged. Jason pushed deeper, placing one hand behind my head to press it forward against him. His cock sank deeper, until it was well down my throat past my uvula. I continued to gag, my eyes watering and stomach contracting as if I would vomit at any moment.

Fortunately, Jason withdrew most of the way before I actually choked and puked; Diane continued thrusting from behind and Jason started thrusting in the same rhythm. The back and forth movement between the two phallus's gave me the most kinky, decadent feeling of being filled completely and I felt arousal climbing quickly. I forgot where I was and began to feel only what was happening to me.

During this time, I periodically struggled to keep from gagging and puking. Jason's thrusts were deep, and at time he lingered inside my throat, triggering my gag reflex. He always withdrew in time, but not before I was gasping for air. Diane had leaned over my backside, her breasts brushing my lower back as she got the feel of the strap on motion and thrusts. Her arms were around my hips, hands and fingers reaching around and probing, stimulating my clit directly. The whole experience was mind blowing as I struggled to maintain and let the pleasure take me over the top.

After a a few minutes of this thrusting and gagging, pleasure and gasping, I felt Jason's cock grown especially hard and his hips thrust forward and strained against my face. Both his hands pressed the back of my head hard, and my tongue felt sudden paroxysms in his cock as he spurt semen deep down inside my throat. Swallowing it wasn't an option; he was so far down the viscous liquid was dumped into my throat and went down.

The feeling of Jason coming in my throat tipped me over the edge and with some frantic finger massaging from Diane behind me, I climaxed loudly. I could feel my whole body flush, nipples hardened, as I came just as Jason withdrew from my mouth. My arms gave way beneath me and my head and shoulders collapsed on the floor as I grunted and gasped from my orgasm.

Thankfully, Diane withdrew when my climax began to fade. I let my hips slide down to the floor and I lay exhausted, flat on the carpet, panting. It was an amazing experience, made more amazing because I had been penetrated by Diane, a woman that I had wanted sexually for some time now, at the same time as my husband and master.

When I recovered, I saw that both men had removed their pants. I think Steve had been so aroused by my double penetration that he had removed his in order to stroke his cock; Jason of course had removed his when he came to fuck my mouth. Steve's cock was standing up hard and erect.

The men were working on Diane, tying her up. Jason was showing Steve how to double and quadruple a rope tie around the ankles to make it as secure as possible without cutting skin or cutting off circulation. I rose to a kneeling position and observed as they secured Diane's ankles. She was obediently laying on the carpet on her stomach. Once her ankles were tied, they pulled her arms behind her back and secured them together with several loops of rope. This rope was then pulled up and over her shoulders, forcing her arms and hands up to a higher position on her back and away from her nicely rounded ass.

Jason was instructing Steve on basic rope technique while placing Diane in a hog tie. The only part left was to bend the legs and secure the ankles to Diane's head, which was done with a double length of rope through her ankle ties, followed by loops around her neck. I was proud of Jason as he illustrated how to tie the rope around Diane's neck securely, but without posing an immediate threat of choking. I had been in this position many times with him, and as long as you didn't pull too hard and try to unbend, it was bearable and there was no problem breathing.

Steve pulled the whole rigging tight, and Diane grunted some as her back bent. This was new to her, I could tell. She had never been in a hogtie of any kind, and I knew the semi-panic she was probably feeling. Her head was raised up off the floor to relieve pressure on her neck, and she stayed very still to prevent any further pain.

The men admired their handiwork for a few minutes as Diane simply stayed in position, unable to move without causing discomfort. I could tell she was humiliated but also aroused by her new situation. I wanted badly to go over and kiss her, stroke her hair, make her feel OK; this would not be acceptable and I did not in order to keep Jason from punishing me later.

Finally, Steve knelt before Diane, and with one smooth motion, inserted his cock into her mouth. She sucked him in obediently, and Jason and I watched as he mouth fucked his wife before us as Jason has just done with me. Diane was clearly in a combination of pain, obedience, acceptance, and excitement as she brought Steve to an orgasm remarkably quickly. He came on her face, spurting white, sticky fluid over her forehead, eyes and cheeks.

When it was over Steve sighed and remarked just how much he had enjoyed the evening. The two men rose, dressed themselves and went in the other room to fix drinks. Diane remained in her hogtie with semen drying on her face, and I remained kneeling where I was.

Diane suffered for about a half an hour. Hogties can start out uncomfortable, and with time they can become agonizing. Diane had started whimpering, and tried whispering to me.

"How long will he leave me like this? It hurts!"

"I don't know, Diane, but it isn't our role to question. Don't worry, you are getting used to this and will be fine. The more you endure the prouder you will be. Trust me." I tried to encourage her in whispers as we waited.

The men finally returned. Diane's hogtie was undone though her wrists and ankles remained bound. The relief in her face was obvious. Steve bent down and kissed her face (now crusty with his dried sperm) and told him he was proud of her progress tonight. He was so kind about it, and I saw how she suddenly acquired a proud look. She smiled and relaxed, laying on the floor happily.

"Siobhan, it is time to go. Put on your dress." Jason was a little drunk, which made him a little more blunt in his commands to me. I quickly put on my dress, leaving off my panties and bra. "That's my little slave. Let's head home."

Steve and Jason shook hands at the door, and I saw Diane still tied on the floor well behind him, as we left. We walked across the street to our own housed. When inside, I immediately removed my clothes as was Jason's rule.

"So, Siobhan. What do you think of our sweet Diane? Will she turn out to be as good a slave slut as you?" Jason was drunk.

I lowered my head and said, "Thank you sir, for recognizing my talent as your slave. I hope Diane will make Steve proud."

"Always the tactful one, eh, Siobhan? Go upstairs, spread out on the bed and wait for me there."

I did as instructed, ready to serve my husband and master in any way he wished.

Life was difficult for me after returning from the pony farm. The intense training there had left its mark and I discovered a number of things.

First of all, I had been naked for more than two weeks. Wearing clothes felt raspy and unnatural for a while. I sat in my office and in meetings adjusting my tight clothing, feeling confined and uncomfortable. I could tell that other workers noticed me and wondered but it was not to be helped. Some of the guys appeared to look at me with new interest as I wriggled in my clothing.

My body had become thinner, harder, and more muscular during the hard work as a pony girl. I liked that, and enjoyed the way people looked at me, especially Jason, who appreciated me and insisted that I be naked virtually all the time at home.

I quickly picked up the habit of urinating and defecating in a toilet again; the use of my straw covered stall for these activities faded. I never quite looked at a toilet the same, though, and had to fight urges to just let go and pee in the middle of meetings for a few weeks.

Lastly, I found it easier to be obedient to Jason. The lessons and training I had as a pony girl stuck with me, and the absolute obedience came more naturally. I knelt before him in the submissive posture without even a tiny bit of hesitation, and worked hard to assure that his every command was followed.

Of all the things I missed from the pony farm, I missed  Kerry. My relationship with her had gone deep to my heart, though I had spoken only a few words with her. I felt like we were meant to be together. She was my match, and I wanted to be with her again as a partner in work and in sex. Prior to being a pony and working with her I had never really understand what a lesbian relationship was about, and now I realized that a solid emotional and physical connection bound the two of us.

Two weeks after returning, Jason called me over and had me kneel in front of him as he sat on the couch. I was naked, as I was virtually all the time while inside the house, and a leash was attached to my permanent slave collar.

"My dearest Siobhan, we have been invited to Steve and Diane's across the street for a house party tomorrow evening. It promises to be quite enjoyable."

I raised my head and looked at Jason, "Yes, I like Steve and Diane very much. I would like to visit. Should I prepare something to take?"

"I think a bottle of wine should be all. Diane will prepare the dinner; she and Steve have been experimenting with the alternative life style and she is ready to begin a role as a more constant submissive. I think they have switched a bit, but it is working out better this way. In any case, it should be interesting. Steve and I may have some fun with you and Diane."

A small chill of anticipation tainted by a bit of dread ran through my stomach. "Jason, you will watch out for me, won't you? I mean, I trust you, but we haven't played with them before and I am not sure... I am a little cautious."

"Siobhan, as always, I love and protect you. However, remember your place," Jason took on a stern tone. "I own you. You are my property and I expect you to obey absolutely. How I treat you and what I allow is up to me and is not to be questioned by you."

"Of course, Jason. I am sorry for my hesitation." I lowered my eyes and bowed my head. Jason caressed my breasts for a moment and then gently pulled my left nipple out, stretching and elongating it; he then placed a clamp on the distended flesh and I gasped slightly from the initial pain. He repeated the action with my right nipple, and I knelt motionless on the floor before him as the pain slowly subsided into an ache.

He lifted my face up and leaned down to kiss me. His kisses always gave me delight and made me feel wonderful. More and more recently, he had only shown affection or had intimate relations with me when I was bound or in some sort of discomfort or pain; as a result I had found myself desiring pain more and more. I wanted his approval and attention desperately, and if pain was required for him to show it then I desired the pain.

----

The evening of the house party as Steve and Diane's arrived, and I prepared myself. I wore a sheer black dress that came to mid-thigh, a bra and panties. My shoes were leather flats, nice but not too fancy. I felt good about myself and the way I looked. The dress showed off my body. Jason would be proud to be seen with me and that pleased me immensely.

We walked across the street together and Jason knocked on our neighbor's door. Diane answered the door and I was immediately taken aback with surprise. She was wearing nothing but a leather harness which wrapped around her breasts, hips and between her legs. Diane has a very curvy figure, and the leather straps brought out her innate sensuality. I stared for a bit. I had never seen her naked before, in spite of the fact that I had pleasured her between her legs with my tongue (she had simply hiked her skirt up for that event).

Diane was blushing and kept her eyes down to the ground as she admitted Jason and I. Steve came over and greeted Jason. Diane closed the door and stood staring at the ground, obviously uncomfortable. She was holding her hands and arms in those awkward positions when you want to cover yourself but realize it is impossible, that complete nudity can't be covered with two hands. I felt a pang of sympathy for her and wriggled close, taking and squeezing her hand. "You look lovely, you don't need to feel embarrassed in front of me," I whispered to her. She looked up at me gratefully.

"Siobhan, why don't you go help Diane in the kitchen?" Jason suggested in a voice which wasn't really a suggestion. I nodded and the two of us headed off to the kitchen to finish preparing and serving dinner.

"Oh, Siobhan, I am so glad to see you. You have made me feel better. This is so new to me, being subservient to Steve!" Diane immediately started talking as we reached the kitchen and began placing food into serving dishes.

"Diane, it's quite all right. If you had seen me a week ago, you would not be embarrassed at all. A week ago I was wearing a leather halter, a bit in my mouth, tail coming out of my ass, peeing on the ground, and pulling wagons of chopped wood."

"Oh, you must tell me all about it! Did you really do all that?" Diane turned to face me, looking at me with wonder. I proceeded to tell her all the details of my time as a real, working pony girl. By the time we were done serving dinner to the table, Diane had lost much of her shyness, though when the men came to the table and we all sat down, she once again cast her eyes down and stopped talking.

Steve is an extremely mild mannered man of about 40, tall, thin and dark. Diane is a smiling, happy woman of about 32, only a few years older than I. I have always felt some attraction to both of them, Steve being a little older but still very handsome and fit. Diane has large breasts and long hair, an hourglass figure and strong legs. Seeing her naked as we ate, I had trouble paying attention to Jason, as my eyes kept wandering over to view Diane's amazing body.

When dinner was over, Jason turned to me and said casually, "My dear, I don't think it is fair for Diane to be naked this whole time while we are all clothed. Why don't you undress for us?"

After nearly three weeks at the human pony farm, being naked wasn't troublesome for me. I pulled my dress off, then removed my bra and panties. In moments I stood before Jason, completely naked except for my wedding ring, ear studs, and slave collar. Steve whistled in appreciation, making me blush with pleasure. I was proud to be Jason's and for others to appreciate what he owned.

Steve came over and began to examine my body in some detail. After asking permission from Jason, he touched my flesh, sliding along my ass, spreading my ass cheeks to examine between and below them. At his direction I bent over and spread my legs, and Steve examined my pussy (which was moist from the attention). It felt awkward being examined like this by my neighbor, but Jason had ordered it and I obeyed.

When Steve was done, Jason made a suggestion. "Siobhan, I couldn't help but notice that you have been somewhat smitten by our beautiful Diane. You could hardly take your eyes off her during dinner! I think I would like to see you kiss her."

My eyes must have grown at the suggestion as both men laughed at my reaction. I turned and looked at Diane, who had her eyes cast down once again in a posture of submissive shyness. I stepped over to her and lifted her face to mine (I am slightly taller), and gently kissed her lips, slowly and gently but becoming more urgent and passionate. I was trying to let her know it was OK and that she and I were in this together and could actually enjoy it if she was willing. Our naked breasts touched, my nipples immediately became hard and I could feel her sigh, slightly.

"Diane! Show Siobhan the gift I gave you today!" Steve seemed rather excited. Diane blushed deep and left the room for a moment. I stood naked, as both men sat and observed me, sipping drinks and talking about some of the marks left on my skin from my experiences as a pony girl. When Diane returned, she had a fairly large dildo in her hand; it was the kind that was made to look, and more specifically to feel, real.

"Show Siobhan how it is used, Diane." Steve calmly ordered. Diane turned bright red and stuttered out a slight protest, "Steve... I am not sure I can do that, now, here--"

Steve interrupted her, "Diane. Don't embarrass me and yourself with disobedience in front of our neighbors. There. On the chair. Now."

Diane moved slowly to a large chair. She sat down and leaned back, spreading her legs wide and over the arms of the chair, exposing herself to all of us. She was shaved nicely, and a slight glistening around her pussy lips showed that she had become aroused. She closed her eyes as if to block out her surroundings and took the large phallus and began working it between the soft lips between her thighs. She slid the dildo up and down at first, slowly relaxing and working between and then into her pussy. The deeper it went, the more obviously wet she became, and it wasn't long before she was sliding it rhythmically in and out, a slight movement of her hips accompanying the thrusts inside.

We watched her, the two men sitting on the couch and I standing in the middle of the living room. She continued, showing her masturbation technique as she became more and more aroused. Her breathing became faster, nipples hardened and all at once she arched her back and neck, a soft mewling noise coming from her wide open mouth. She thrust the dildo in a few more times, and finally slowed and removed the phallus. Her eyes opened and she seemed to realize where she was and suddenly flushed bright red and hung her head.

"Very good, Steve, your wife seems to be doing well!" Jason exclaimed at the show Diane had just completed. I was standing obediently to the side, watching and appreciating the show. Diane looked at me quickly from the corner of her eyes as if my presence embarrassed her most of all. Then men continued to discuss some of the details of Diane's activity.

"Steve, I think it is unfair to have Diane pleasure herself without also giving Siobhan the opportunity." Jason suggested. "I think we need to have her give us the same show, don't you think?"

"Yes, Jason, but if you might let me suggest something; we have a little additional paraphernalia that might be of interest. Diane, will you go get the belt?" Steve's quiet voice instructed Diane, who opened her mouth as if to protest for a moment and then shut it, bowed her head and then left the room.

"Siobhan, will you stand before us please?" Steve instructed. As Jason did not contradict him, I moved to the center of the room, facing them. I had long since learned to stand naked and on display before men without trying to hide any part of my body.

Diane returned almost immediate and when I saw what she had in her hands, I realized what was in store. The dildo had been placed in a strap on harness. The harness was rather ineptly strapped around Diane's waist and the phallus extended out from her groin, drooping a little.

"Oh, how delightful Steve! This is perfect, I must say! Yes, yes... Siobhan, get on all fours before us, and spread your legs!" Jason was excited and quickly ordered me to prepare to be fucked.

"Sir, may I suggest adjusting her strap on? I think it will help some." I moved to Diane, who had obviously never worn a device like this, and proceeded to adjust the straps around her hips and thighs. They needed to be placed higher, and made tighter so that Diane's hip movement would be translated into confident dildo thrusts. Unlike Diane, I did have some experience with the device.

When I was done, I obeyed my husband and knelt before the men, then lowered myself so that I was on hands and knees, my legs spread slightly so that my pussy was well exposed. Diane knelt behind me and cautiously, ever so cautiously placed the tip of the dildo against my lips. I could tell she was afraid of hurting me, and was being very careful. I urged her on by slowly pressing back against the rubber dong, adding pressure which enabled it to penetrate me deeply. I grunted slightly and Diane immediately withdrew most of the way.

The men sat on the sofa, observing all of this with great delight. My breasts hung down and while they aren't nearly as large as Diane's, they still wobbled a bit as Diane began regular thrusts. The dildo was a good one, made with natural feeling material with a roughness that made it nicely stimulating. I moved my body together with Diane's thrusts, enjoying the experience. I even enjoyed being observed by the two men, showing off my body in this activity.

My breathing was come quicker, and I had closed my eyes for a moment when I felt something against my face and lips. I opened my eyes and saw that Jason had slipped his pants down around his ankles and exposed his rock hard cock. He was pressing it toward my mouth. I opened wide and it slipped inside just as Diane thrust in, pushing me forward. His member slid deep within my mouth and down my throat a bit before I was prepared and I gagged. Jason pushed deeper, placing one hand behind my head to press it forward against him. His cock sank deeper, until it was well down my throat past my uvula. I continued to gag, my eyes watering and stomach contracting as if I would vomit at any moment.

Fortunately, Jason withdrew most of the way before I actually choked and puked; Diane continued thrusting from behind and Jason started thrusting in the same rhythm. The back and forth movement between the two phallus's gave me the most kinky, decadent feeling of being filled completely and I felt arousal climbing quickly. I forgot where I was and began to feel only what was happening to me.

During this time, I periodically struggled to keep from gagging and puking. Jason's thrusts were deep, and at time he lingered inside my throat, triggering my gag reflex. He always withdrew in time, but not before I was gasping for air. Diane had leaned over my backside, her breasts brushing my lower back as she got the feel of the strap on motion and thrusts. Her arms were around my hips, hands and fingers reaching around and probing, stimulating my clit directly. The whole experience was mind blowing as I struggled to maintain and let the pleasure take me over the top.

After a a few minutes of this thrusting and gagging, pleasure and gasping, I felt Jason's cock grown especially hard and his hips thrust forward and strained against my face. Both his hands pressed the back of my head hard, and my tongue felt sudden paroxysms in his cock as he spurt semen deep down inside my throat. Swallowing it wasn't an option; he was so far down the viscous liquid was dumped into my throat and went down.

The feeling of Jason coming in my throat tipped me over the edge and with some frantic finger massaging from Diane behind me, I climaxed loudly. I could feel my whole body flush, nipples hardened, as I came just as Jason withdrew from my mouth. My arms gave way beneath me and my head and shoulders collapsed on the floor as I grunted and gasped from my orgasm.

Thankfully, Diane withdrew when my climax began to fade. I let my hips slide down to the floor and I lay exhausted, flat on the carpet, panting. It was an amazing experience, made more amazing because I had been penetrated by Diane, a woman that I had wanted sexually for some time now, at the same time as my husband and master.

When I recovered, I saw that both men had removed their pants. I think Steve had been so aroused by my double penetration that he had removed his in order to stroke his cock; Jason of course had removed his when he came to fuck my mouth. Steve's cock was standing up hard and erect.

The men were working on Diane, tying her up. Jason was showing Steve how to double and quadruple a rope tie around the ankles to make it as secure as possible without cutting skin or cutting off circulation. I rose to a kneeling position and observed as they secured Diane's ankles. She was obediently laying on the carpet on her stomach. Once her ankles were tied, they pulled her arms behind her back and secured them together with several loops of rope. This rope was then pulled up and over her shoulders, forcing her arms and hands up to a higher position on her back and away from her nicely rounded ass.

Jason was instructing Steve on basic rope technique while placing Diane in a hog tie. The only part left was to bend the legs and secure the ankles to Diane's head, which was done with a double length of rope through her ankle ties, followed by loops around her neck. I was proud of Jason as he illustrated how to tie the rope around Diane's neck securely, but without posing an immediate threat of choking. I had been in this position many times with him, and as long as you didn't pull too hard and try to unbend, it was bearable and there was no problem breathing.

Steve pulled the whole rigging tight, and Diane grunted some as her back bent. This was new to her, I could tell. She had never been in a hogtie of any kind, and I knew the semi-panic she was probably feeling. Her head was raised up off the floor to relieve pressure on her neck, and she stayed very still to prevent any further pain.

The men admired their handiwork for a few minutes as Diane simply stayed in position, unable to move without causing discomfort. I could tell she was humiliated but also aroused by her new situation. I wanted badly to go over and kiss her, stroke her hair, make her feel OK; this would not be acceptable and I did not in order to keep Jason from punishing me later.

Finally, Steve knelt before Diane, and with one smooth motion, inserted his cock into her mouth. She sucked him in obediently, and Jason and I watched as he mouth fucked his wife before us as Jason has just done with me. Diane was clearly in a combination of pain, obedience, acceptance, and excitement as she brought Steve to an orgasm remarkably quickly. He came on her face, spurting white, sticky fluid over her forehead, eyes and cheeks.

When it was over Steve sighed and remarked just how much he had enjoyed the evening. The two men rose, dressed themselves and went in the other room to fix drinks. Diane remained in her hogtie with semen drying on her face, and I remained kneeling where I was.

Diane suffered for about a half an hour. Hogties can start out uncomfortable, and with time they can become agonizing. Diane had started whimpering, and tried whispering to me.

"How long will he leave me like this? It hurts!"

"I don't know, Diane, but it isn't our role to question. Don't worry, you are getting used to this and will be fine. The more you endure the prouder you will be. Trust me." I tried to encourage her in whispers as we waited.

The men finally returned. Diane's hogtie was undone though her wrists and ankles remained bound. The relief in her face was obvious. Steve bent down and kissed her face (now crusty with his dried sperm) and told him he was proud of her progress tonight. He was so kind about it, and I saw how she suddenly acquired a proud look. She smiled and relaxed, laying on the floor happily.

"Siobhan, it is time to go. Put on your dress." Jason was a little drunk, which made him a little more blunt in his commands to me. I quickly put on my dress, leaving off my panties and bra. "That's my little slave. Let's head home."

Steve and Jason shook hands at the door, and I saw Diane still tied on the floor well behind him, as we left. We walked across the street to our own housed. When inside, I immediately removed my clothes as was Jason's rule.

"So, Siobhan. What do you think of our sweet Diane? Will she turn out to be as good a slave slut as you?" Jason was drunk.

I lowered my head and said, "Thank you sir, for recognizing my talent as your slave. I hope Diane will make Steve proud."

"Always the tactful one, eh, Siobhan? Go upstairs, spread out on the bed and wait for me there."

I did as instructed, ready to serve my husband and master in any way he wished.

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Erotic Pain

I am not an expert. I don't really understand why some people (including myself) find bondage and related pain to be an erotic, stimulating and desirable sensation.


Pain is the body's way of recognizing that damage is being done, or could potentially be done. It prompts action to avoid the pain, presumably removing the body from further damage. So why do some (including myself) seek it out?

I remember being fascinated with bondage when I was quite young. I knew nothing about it. I had never seen pictures, or heard comments. But I do remember being in my parent's garage at the age of 13, and taking down some rope and tying myself up. It was the oddest sensation, to do this and enjoy it.

The first time I engaged in real bondage as a sex act, I was 15. I actually suggested that my boyfriend use some rope to tie me up. He got some twine from the garage, and he tied me to the bed, using the twine to spread my arms and legs wide, over the side of the bed. In spite of the fact I quickly learned that twine is very rough and cuts in to the skin, it was an explosively erotic experience. At my urging, my boyfriend continued to help me experiment with techniques, some disastrous, and others marvelous.

Not all men are interested in dominating a woman. This seems like a complete oxymoron, but it is true. I found myself seeking boyfriends willing to tie me up. This proved difficult, as almost any guy thought he would enjoy tying a pretty girl up, and certainly was willing to try to get a chance at me. All too often, they were unable to take on the top role, and I ended up dumping some very nice guys.

When I was 18 and 19, I did some modeling, which included some fetish modeling. This introduced me to a whole new area of bondage; being introduced to real equipment, solid techniques, made me realize how far I had yet to go. I found myself growing excited that there was so much more to experiment with, new sensations and scenes to play with.

I have been very lucky to have a husband that has been willing and able to take me further. During this time, bondage has given way to experimenting with pain, a natural progression. Bondage is inherently uncomfortable. It is a very small step to the introduction of pain which excites me and makes me feel alive in a way I have never before experienced.
....
I have begun to desire pain in the same way I desire to be bound. It is an intense physical reminder of the loss of control, powerlessness, humiliation and subjugation. There is nothing which enforces the sense of helplessness than expressing pain by crying out, and having your cries ignored. Or worse, having your mouth gagged to suppress your cries, further removing control. Within the context of sexual arousal, I have found that my pain thresholds are increased. Pain becomes a part of the erotic situation. It causes, and becomes part of the arousal. I seek pain in the same way, and with the same passion, as I do sexual stimulation.

I seek out pain and humiliation now, and it has become an important part of my relationship; being a slave has freed me in ways that truly excite and satisfy me.

I still enjoy and prefer sex, simple, lustful sex with my partner. But life is all about variety, isn't it?
I am not an expert. I don't really understand why some people (including myself) find bondage and related pain to be an erotic, stimulating and desirable sensation.


Pain is the body's way of recognizing that damage is being done, or could potentially be done. It prompts action to avoid the pain, presumably removing the body from further damage. So why do some (including myself) seek it out?

I remember being fascinated with bondage when I was quite young. I knew nothing about it. I had never seen pictures, or heard comments. But I do remember being in my parent's garage at the age of 13, and taking down some rope and tying myself up. It was the oddest sensation, to do this and enjoy it.

The first time I engaged in real bondage as a sex act, I was 15. I actually suggested that my boyfriend use some rope to tie me up. He got some twine from the garage, and he tied me to the bed, using the twine to spread my arms and legs wide, over the side of the bed. In spite of the fact I quickly learned that twine is very rough and cuts in to the skin, it was an explosively erotic experience. At my urging, my boyfriend continued to help me experiment with techniques, some disastrous, and others marvelous.

Not all men are interested in dominating a woman. This seems like a complete oxymoron, but it is true. I found myself seeking boyfriends willing to tie me up. This proved difficult, as almost any guy thought he would enjoy tying a pretty girl up, and certainly was willing to try to get a chance at me. All too often, they were unable to take on the top role, and I ended up dumping some very nice guys.

When I was 18 and 19, I did some modeling, which included some fetish modeling. This introduced me to a whole new area of bondage; being introduced to real equipment, solid techniques, made me realize how far I had yet to go. I found myself growing excited that there was so much more to experiment with, new sensations and scenes to play with.

I have been very lucky to have a husband that has been willing and able to take me further. During this time, bondage has given way to experimenting with pain, a natural progression. Bondage is inherently uncomfortable. It is a very small step to the introduction of pain which excites me and makes me feel alive in a way I have never before experienced.
....
I have begun to desire pain in the same way I desire to be bound. It is an intense physical reminder of the loss of control, powerlessness, humiliation and subjugation. There is nothing which enforces the sense of helplessness than expressing pain by crying out, and having your cries ignored. Or worse, having your mouth gagged to suppress your cries, further removing control. Within the context of sexual arousal, I have found that my pain thresholds are increased. Pain becomes a part of the erotic situation. It causes, and becomes part of the arousal. I seek pain in the same way, and with the same passion, as I do sexual stimulation.

I seek out pain and humiliation now, and it has become an important part of my relationship; being a slave has freed me in ways that truly excite and satisfy me.

I still enjoy and prefer sex, simple, lustful sex with my partner. But life is all about variety, isn't it?
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Pony Training


Coming home from work had taken on an almost ritualistic pattern for me. I parked my Lexus in the drive and entered the house to automatically shed the trappings of my day time life and work. Heading upstairs, I removed all my clothes, for I was generally forbidden to wear anything when at home. Nakedness and exposure was expected at all times, except for rared occasions.

Next I removed my makeup and simple jewelry, except for my collar of course. My collar is a thin but very strong circular band of platinum which can not be removed without some rather heavy tools. I wear it as a symbol of my marital and slave state instead of a wedding ring. It looks like a nice piece of jewelry, and I frequently wear a small diamond or sapphire pendant from it.

After peeling off the symbols of my employment during the day, I went downstairs and began cooking dinner. We expected company that evening, and I was fixing a special meal; home made lasagna, salad, and garlic bread. As the lasagna baked, I began to clean the house in preparation for Jason's arrival later.

At 6:30, Jason arrived home, and I could feel the slight twinge of excitement I still feel whenever I am in his presence. Jason is my master, my owner, my husband, and my life. I am dedicated to him and his pleasure, in all ways. I work at my job to earn money for him, to please him that I am productive. When at home, I am his plaything, subject to all his whims and desires. My body and mind are his, at all times.

I went up to him and kissed him on his cheek. His rough hands caressed my naked flesh and pulled me to him. Resting my head on his shoulder, I sighed in contentment, but then looked at him. "Is Jon coming tonight? I am fixing dinner for you. Shall I dress for the occasion?"

Jason shook his head. "No, dearest. You are lovely as you are. The dinner will be just for me and Jon tonight, you can remain in the bedroom."

This was a little unusual. In asking if I was to be dressed, I was asking whether I was to wear clothing because of our guest. Jason was making it clear that I was to remain naked while the guest was in our house, and to not participate in the meal. "Yes, sir. Should I eat before?"

"Yes, you can eat a little before he comes, which should be in half an hour. Let me know when you are done setting the table."

I did as instructed, grabbing myself a sandwich as I set the table and finished preparing the dinner for two. When the lasagna was done, salad tossed, and bread in a basket, I moved to the living room where Jason was reading.

"Everything is ready for you and Jon. Are you sure you don't want me dressed? I have never met Jon before, you know." I was concerned that a person not familiar with my status as owned slave would see me naked and question us. We are usually discrete about our relationship.

"I told you before, no. You are not to dress. Come with me." Jason rose and I followed him into the bedroom. Jason pulled out the wooden pony that he keeps in the walk in closet for punishment. I have only ridden it a few times, and the experience can range from uncomfortable to excruciatingly painful, depending on how long I am left to ride.

"Jason... I don't understand. Have I failed you in some way? Please, I don't see the need for punishment--"

Jason cut me off, "Siobhan, when will you learn to stop questioning me? I know you mean well, but you are constantly calling my judgment into question and arguing. This is to remind you that you are mine, and what I decide is final. Slide into position."

I could feel the sweat break out on my forehead as I raised one leg and swung over the wooden beam of the pony. I hate the pony. It hurts, and the longer I am forced to sit on it, the deeper the hurt goes, spreading and cramping through my clit, my cunt, my vagina, my hips...

Standing on my toes with one leg on each side of the wooden board I could feel the sharp edge below me, waiting for me to rest my weight on it. Jason took my hands behind my back and handcuffed my wrists together. He fondled my breasts for a moment. I was shaking just a little in anticipation as he slipped one hand between my legs and found my clit, rubbing it slightly. I moaned involuntarily.

Jason reached under the bed for the leg spreader, the device that would force my legs apart and make it impossible not to rest my weight on the pony. He pulled one of my legs to the side, and I felt the wooden edge dig into the soft flesh between my legs. The spreader was buckled around my right ankle, and then the left. As my left leg was pushed out to fit into the spreader, my full body weight pressed down on my labia lips, smashing them, and beginning the cycle of increasing pain.

I still tried to lift myself up by standing on my tip toes, but I knew from experience the effort was futile. Somehow, I couldn't help it. My calves strained, feet pointed out and down, toes reaching the carpet below me attempting to lift me up. My cunt ached already.


Jason kissed me and then left the room. I rocked slowly, back and forth, side to side, on the pony, beginning a long evening of suffering for my owner.

I heard Jon arrive about 15 minutes later. The door to the bedroom was ajar and I could hear Jason talking to him as they sat down to eat. I hoped they enjoyed the dinner I had prepared for them, though it was hard to concentrate on what was going on in the other room; the pain in my groin was slowly increasing.

It wasn't until after dinner that I began to hear what they were discussing. The area of my vulva was numb by then, though the aching pain was radiating outward across my hips. My face was wet from tears, though I refused to let out a sob or other audible evidence of my suffering. Rolling back slightly so that the pressure was on my anus, I listened to the men talking.

"I think it's a great idea, Jason," Jon was saying. "We the ranch is way out in the country and the spot is open. You and I could have a good time fishing and riding, maybe even hunt a bit. And the training would absolutely be good for her, I am sure of it. I have never seen a case where it didn't have a beneficial effect."

"Yep. She could use the exercise, too. She has an office job, you know, and has been getting soft. Not that I mind soft, but she could stand to lose a few. I could really enjoy the time off, as well." Jason sounded happy.

"We are fully equipped so unless she is an odd size, we could accommodate her. Would you be interested in breeding her?" Jon said.
"It't something to consider," Jason sounded thoughtful. A chill ran down my spine which mixed with the agony spreading across my ass. "Would you like to see her?"

After talking a bit more, the two men came into the bedroom. I hung my head, my hair covering my face from view. For some reason, I was always ashamed to be seen riding the wooden pony.

"Oh my, she is lovely," Jon sounded awed. "Yes, she will do well. How long has she been riding tonight?"

Jon reached out and touched my left breast, caressing my flesh and then sliding his finger tips down my side. Jason reached under my chin and lifted my face so that Jon could see my tear streaked face, and I could see the rough, weather worn face of a man slightly older than Jason. "How long have you been riding tonight, dear?"

I glanced at the clock on the wall. "93 minutes, Jason."

Jon laughed. "Precise bitch. I bet she watches every minute tick by, as well!"

They left the room, closing the door behind them so I could no longer hear. I was left alone with my pain, watching the clock tick by. It wasn't until I had been on the pony for almost three hours that Jason came back in and released me.

My legs shook as I tried to stand, and I barely made it to the bed before collapsing in a fetal ball. There really is no position that relieves the pain from riding the pony, but curling up sometimes makes my mind feel a little better. Jason sat down behind me and caressed my exposed ass and cunt as he explained to me.

"Well, Siobhan, I decided it was time for us to take a little vacation. Jon owns a ranch in the country and has invited us to spend some time there. It's a special ranch, one where special training for... slaves like you can be conducted."

I rolled over and looked at Jason with anxious eyes. "You won't give me up to someone else, will you? I am yours. You own me. Only you!"

Jason reached down and took my head in his hands and kissed me. "The training is pony training. You will be trained to act as a pony, to wear the proper attire, have the proper attitude and strengthen yourself. When you are ready, you may be allowed to serve by pulling carts or traps."




The ranch was in the foothills, distant from any towns. As with any long trips, I was transported in the back of Jason's SUV, naked with my wrists and ankles secured in a single bracket that kept me doubled over. It was nearly a five hour drive, and I was incredibly sore and tired when they finally lifted me out. Being secured in that manner, unable to move and then being lifted out and carried when we arrived impressed on me just how much of a slave I was. I didn't even feel like a slave, I felt like an animal, or piece of meat or furniture.

I was carried upside down across a large dirt open area that was partially surrounded by rustic wooden buildings. One of the buildings was a barn, and we entered through two open large double doors and into a central corridor. Stalls lined the corridor, each with a closed and barred wooden door. The two men set me down in the middle of the dirt floor and unlocked my restraints.

The two men were unfamiliar to me. I slowly stretched my arms and legs out, getting my muscles back in shape after the long cramped ride, and watched the men as they unbarred one of the doors to a stall. A small slit of a window lit the interior, showing the floor covered with hay, several iron rings and bars fixed to the walls, a couple of troughs... and that was it. I was let inside, and then left alone as the two men closed the door. I heard the bar slide into place outside. I was locked in.

It was sunny outside and the peak of the heated afternoon. The shade of the barn made it cooler, but I was still sweating, my skin slick. Dirt stuck to my flesh and made me look terrible, this worried me as I was used to always looking my best for Jason. I had to pee and there was no place I could see. I waited.

My bladder was about to burst when the door was unbarred and Jason and Jon came in. Jason immediately checked me to make sure I was OK, looking my naked body over. Jon poured a bucket of water into a trough and checked the straw. He then came over.

"Please, sir. Jason, I need to pee badly. May I go to the toilet?"
Jon responded instead of Jason. "You may pee at any time, anywhere you are, unless you are inside a building designated for humans. You may pee on the floor here, on the ground outside, or where ever you may be. No permission is necessary."

My mind had trouble grasping this concept... I was to urinate anytime, anyplace? This stall was obviously mine, I was to be kept here. I was to urinate on the floor of my cell? It began to sink in... I was being treated like an animal. I bit my lip and lowered my eyes as I blushed.

Jon went to the side of the stall and took something down from the wall. I looked at the curious item, which looked at first like a flogger, except the strands were too fine. Then I realized -- it was a tail. Three feet long, brushed horse hair which ran up to a large butt plug. A really large but plug. I whimpered as Jon brought it over to me.

"Bend over and present your anus." Jon's voice made it clear there would be no arguing. I leaned over and spread my legs. With both hands, I reached back, grabbed my ass cheeks and pulled them apart. I have never gotten used to this-- the slightly cool air penetrating to my anus makes me feel incredibly vulnerable and exposed. The plug was pressed against my anus, slowly wriggling and penetrating. My natural reaction was to clench, but I had experience with this and quickly pushed out, which relaxed the sphincter and allowed penetration more easily.

"Good girl, steady..." Jon spoke in a reassuring voice as he pushed and twisted the plug deeper and deeper, spreading my flesh wider and wider until it began hurting and I whimpered from the pain. "Good girl... just a little more and you will be there..."

Just when I thought I would not be able to take the plug, that it would tear me open instead, it slid in and narrowed. My sphincter automatically clamped down on the narrow neck of the plug, keeping the huge bulk of it inside. It was clearly large enough that it would not be expelled easily; it would take someone pulling it out.

"Good girl! I knew you could do it." Jon stroked my hair and then slapped my ass cheek as I raised up. Standing up made the plug shift inside, and it hurt a little, but I stood with my new tail hanging down behind me and tried to be as straight as possible. My breasts stood out in front of me, and I could see Jason look at me with pride. That in turn made me feel proud. I was doing well for him and was not an embarrassment.

Jon placed a long leash on my slave collar, and led me around the stall in a circle. I waddled some from the plug. "Don't worry, you will get used to that," he said." A few rules around here. First, you don't speak. We speak. You are a pony. We are your masters and trainers."

"You will wear your tail all the time. You will obey all commands. You will work hard to please your trainers. You will be fed twice a day, here in your stall. You may drink at any time water is present, but you will only be fed once in the morning, once in the evening. After you have fed, your tail will be removed temporarily and if you feel the need, you may then relieve your bowels here, on the straw. There will be no other opportunity to relieve your bowels."

Jon took a small riding crop and slapped my ass with it. "Raise your knees when you walk!"

I raised my knees higher as I walked around the perimeter of the stall. *Slap* another stinging blow on my thigh and I really raised my knees high, making a show of walking. I could feel my breasts jiggling a little as I pranced.

"Head high! Chin up!" Jon was giving directions as I pranced around the stall. Constantly correcting my posture and my gait, reminding me to look straight ahead, to keep an even pace, and so on. When I forgot an instruction, the riding crop would slap hard against my naked flesh, making me jump. It felt good when there was no sting because I knew I was doing well, I felt like a failure when he had to strike me.

I was finally allowed to stop and rest. My thighs were aching from the constant high stepping gait, and I was breathing hard. Sweat trickled down my face, chest and back. It had been a real workout.

"Jon, I would love to see any of the other ponies you have right now. Would that be possible?" Jason said as Jon tied my leather leash to a ring in the wall.

"Sure, let's go take a look," Jon replied, and they were gone.

I still needed to pee and had not been able to while I was being exercised. Looking around the stall, it was clear that there was no specific place to be used; there was simply a layer of straw. Choosing a corner, I squatted and tried to pee. It didn't come. The strange surroundings had me tense. Closing my eyes I relaxed myself... and it came. The pee streamed out and into the straw below me. When I was done, I stood and checked around the stall and got a drink of water from the trough.

My legs were still shaky from the exercise and I started to sit down. As soon as my ass pressed down to rest on the floor I leaped up again. Sitting down caused the tail to ram the plug deeper into my ass. I could kneel, stand, be on all fours, or lie down on my side, but I couldn't sit. I chose to lie down, and began to idly masturbate, looking at the wooden walls and dreaming of performing for Jason.

That evening a young man came into my stall. I stood up in the corner, not knowing what to expect. He was tall, blond, and well muscled, and looked my naked body over appreciatively, eyes resting on my exposed breasts and pussy. I stood motionless, waiting. Eventually, he brought in a bucket of something, and poured it into a small trough attached to the wall. It looked like Cheerios. He checked my water and refilled it.

Finally, the young man left and returned with a set of leather straps; a harness of some kind. "Raise your arms," he ordered. I raised them and he put my neck in a stiff posture collar, and buckled a harness around my chest so that it surrounded, but did not cover, my breasts. A belt was the last accessory; it was wide and he tightened it around my waist, making it a little hard to breathe.

"Please... that's making it hard to breathe. Can it be loosened?" I asked in a respectful voice. The stable hand ignored me, instead joining my arms together in the back and slid a monoglove up. Straps went around my shoulders, buckled tightly to prevent the binder from slipping off. Turning me around, he started tightening the laces, beginning from the bottom. At each eyelet, he pulled the leather surrounding my arms tight together, rising higher and higher. My elbows cinched closer together and as the laces were tightened in my upper arms my shoulders were pulled back as well. Finally reaching the top and tying off the laces left me in the tightest armbinder I had ever experienced. My shoulders were cramping slightly.

The stable hand checked his work, and satisfied with my leather pony gear, pushed me over into a bending position. My ass was exposed and he kicked my legs apart. Taking hold of the tail secured inside my ass he pulled, hard. It hurt horribly at first as the circle of my sphincter was forced open wider than it was meant to, but within seconds that wide portion of the plug slipped past and I was pushing the plug out and feeling tremendous relief.

Having finished withdrawal of the plug, the stable boy slipped his hand down between my ass cheeks and then down between my legs. I didn't know what to do, so I simply held still as his fingers rubbed the soft folds of my flesh, searching for my clit. When he found it, he moved one finger up and down slowly, rubbing it for a few seconds. While I was aroused, I was also confused by his attentions. He stopped after a few moments of massaging my outer labia.

left me alone in the stall, securing the door after he left. I waddled over to the trough and checked the food left there, discovering exactly what it had looked like - Cheerios. My arms were tight behind my back, neck in a collar, but I could bend at the waist and eat from the trough, which I did eagerly. I was hungry, very hungry, for it was evening and I had not eaten all day. I licked the bottom of the trough to get the last bits of food out, and drank deeply from the water, sucking it up between my lips. I even spit small amounts out to try and wash off my body a bit-- an effort that had limited success.

When the butt plug had been removed, it had been a tremendous relief, as if I had shit out the biggest bowel movement of my life. After eating, I realized I still needed to go; and remembered the schedule Jon had dictated. The plug had been removed and this was the time I would be allowed to defecate. Looking around, I surveyed the straw covered floor. There was the spot where I had peed; as good a place as any. I walked over and squatted.

Pushing with all my might, I felt the bowel movement beginning to come, just as the door opened and the stable hand entered again. My ass immediately clenched, cutting the poop off midway. I don't think I had ever been as humiliated as I was at that point. The man just stood looking at me as I squatted, with a smirk on his face. I closed my eyes, turned my head and pushed again, getting a little more out. When I had gotten as much out as I could, I stood up.

The stable hand kicked my legs apart roughly, and bent me over once again. He leaned over me as if he was going to assfuck me and reached around to fondle my breasts. His hips shoved against my ass and I could feel his erection pressing against his jeans as he dry humped me. I took it silently, but swore I would fight back if he attempted to enter me in anyway. I wasn't his property, I was Jason's. He stopped after a moment with sigh; using his fingers to spread my ass cheeks he re-inserted the pony tail / plug.

He wasn't as kind with the insertion as Jon had been. He shoved the plug up my anus as hard as he could, and the pain caused me to yelp and cry a little. I wondered if my flesh had torn. When my sphincter closed tightly around the neck of the plug and I felt the tail brushing the back of my thighs I stood and watched the stable hand leave once again. The final clunk of the door reminded me that I was trapped here, alone, my arms bound and a tail sticking out of my ass.

I went to sleep laying on the opposite side of the stall from where I had defecated.



The next day I awoke from a fitful sleep. Even though the days were hot, it had been cold in the barn and I was naked. My shoulders ached from the armbinder and the butt plug was irritating my anus. I had to go pee and poop, and was hungry. The only thing I could do something about was pee, and I squatted in my selected spot to relieve myself.

The ritual of the previous day's meal was repeated. Cereal, water, removal of the plug. A chance to defecate and then leaning over to be fondled and dry humped by the stable boy. A painful re-insertion of the plug and I was alone again until the stall door opened and Jason entered with Jon.

"Rick reports that you spoke to him when he strapped you in your harness. You were informed that this was not acceptable," Jon sounded stern. "I realize that this is your first incident of disobedience, but I find it is better to let new animals know the consequences of their misbehavior immediately."

Jason took a long leather lead and clipped it to my collar. I hung my head, worried about what the punishment for speaking might be and why that stable boy had it in for me. I was taken outside in front of the barn. The armbinder was removed and I groaned from the pain of blood rushing back into my shoulder joints. To the side of the central farm yard was a Saint Andrew's cross, a large heavy beamed wood X with short chains dangling from the four corners. I had a pretty good idea what it was for and tears began to roll down my cheeks as I began to shake.

From out of the barn, Rick and several other stable hands emerged, leading other naked slaves in pony gear. I had not realized I was not alone in the barn, but there were three women and two men that were led out to the center of the yard. It was clear they had been brought out to watch my punishment. I felt a flush of humiliation as I realized I was to be publicly whipped as an example for the other ponies.

In spite of the impending punishment, I was able to get a look at the other "animals". The women were all beautiful, two brunettes and a blond. One of the brunettes had long hair like me, the other was cut short in a very cute bob. The blond had longer hair pulled back. They were all lean and muscular. I realized they must have been trained as ponies for some time and were very fit.

The male ponies were different. One was tall and dark, with a muscular body. He was very well hung and I couldn't help but look at him with a certain desire. The other male was shorter, lighter and softer. He looked weak and had marks on his body from a recent whipping.


The whipping... yes.... I was led to the cross, my arms raised and shackled in place. My legs were kicked wide and also shackled in place, which made the weight of my body hang from my wrists. I reached my tip toes down to support myself and waited for the whipping to begin. I was embarrassed at how my legs were spread for all the other ponies to see between them, but there was no choice.

The whistle of the strap announced the first stroke. It sliced across my back from the middle of my ribs and up across my right shoulder blade. I jerked with the sudden pain and yelped. My head snapped back and I stared up at the blue sky for a moment before another stinging slice hit my ass, the tip of the strap wrapping around my hip and almost into my pussy. My muscles clenched from the pain and I grunted this time.

A total of six lashes with the strap and the punishment stopped. I was glad; I was sure I had welts across my back and buttocks. The wounds continued to throb as I was unchained from the whipping cross. I saw the other ponies observing my suffering. The tall male looked sympathetic. The females looked afraid. The smaller male was looking away. I couldn't help but let my gaze return to the tall dark male, and his well hung genitals. He excited me.

An alcohol swab was used on my wounds; it stung horribly and I whimpered as Jason held my head lovingly. When the alcohol swabs were done, I lay my head on Jason's shoulder and felt the comfort of my owner after the punishment. The other ponies were led away, most in different directions. I assumed they would continue their work or training.

My arms were reinserted into the armbinder, not quite so tightly this time. The waist harness was removed, but Jon retrieved a strange looking head harness that slid over the top of my head and buckled in back. The harness included a gag, or should I say a bit such as a horse might have. The single rod ran across my open mouth and pulled back tightly. I could feel the strange grin it forced on my face. It was covered with a soft leather and biting down on it felt good.

Last, two small bells were clamped onto my nipples. My nipples have been clamped many times before, but never outside, and never with bells that rang whenever I moved. It was embarrassing, to say the least, and painful as the clamps were large and tight.

The head harness had a long leather strap and this was used to lead me across the yard to a large circular corral. I waddled slightly while walking, due to the large butt plug and tail, but had no trouble keeping up. Jon pulled me into the center of the corral and with quick slaps of his riding crop he urged me to start walking in circles. Jason leaned against the fence and watched as Jon used the crop extensively to guide my walk. My ass and the backs of my thighs began to burn from the constant stings.

"Legs up, girl! Knees high!" Jon kept talking to me as I begin trotting around the corral. The bright morning sun felt like it was beginning to burn my skin, and I was sweating from exertion, but I kept going, working on my stance and my stride, trying to understand how to walk and how to please Jon, if for no other reason than to stop the stinging slaps from the crop.

"That's it, now you see!" Jon's commands began to shift to approval as I worked hard to make my trotting gait precise, high kneed, and smooth. Jason was observing with approval. I was proud of my body, and proud to be seen by Jason in this place. The more I succeeded in the training, the better I felt.

"Now, a nice run!" Jon took a whip from his belt and snapped it loudly just behind my ass. I felt the air swoosh by, but no sting; Jon was very precise and meant the crack of the whip as an encouragement, or a warning. I immediately began to run around the corral. My breasts bounced, my hair swung against my shoulders and back, and I began panting. Another crack from the whip and I felt a sharp sting on my left thigh which urged me on. I ran faster, as fast as I could with my arms still bound behind me.

Just when I thought I would collapse from exhaustion, Jon pulled back on my lead and slowed me down. My breath was coming in ragged gasps around my bit, which I was gripping with my teeth. I realized that the bit helped a little; being able to bite down on something helped with the pain from the whip and the concentration while running. When I finally stopped, I leaned over against the railing of the corral, trying to recover.

"Good girl, not bad for your first day." Jon was stroking my hair and then began sponging off my sweat soaked body with a large water soaked sponge. It felt fantastic, and I held still as he wiped my entire body down. The bit made me drool, and he wiped my face down as well.




Later that day, I had been taught the basics of how to walk, trot, and run in style. I was getting a feel for how a good pony trainer communicated his desires. A little jerk or flip of the lead, a quick sound, all could direct me to slow, speed up, or stop. The better I became at obedience and correct style, the happier I was. It was a good day, and I was succeeding at learning how to be a good pony girl. Jason looked pleased as well, which made me very happy.

In the late afternoon we were joined by one of the other trainers and the tall brunette female pony. She was dusty, the sweat having mixed with dirt on her flesh. Still, I could see her better close up and realized she had an incredible, strong body. Slightly taller than I, she walked with a straight back and prideful gait that made me envious. I found myself wanting to be like her, and perhaps even being with her, touching her amazing body. I wondered if the ponies were ever stabled together.

Jon began the two of us with a walk. He urged me to keep up with the other pony. The painful licks of the whip against my ass were not shared with the other pony; apparently I was the less experienced girl and would need to keep up. I matched her gait as well as possible, and after a bit Jon shifted us to trot.

As the other pony and I began to trot around the corral I began to feel an exhilaration I had never experienced. The two of us were perfect female specimens. We moved together precisely, our legs rising and falling together. We looked similar, with our long flowing brunette hair. Our bodies were both lean and strong, though the other pony's body was clearly more muscular than mine. I felt a sort of oneness with her, as if we were a single organism.

The longer we exercised and trained together, the happier I was. I hardly ever was struck by the whip or crop now, and Jason's approval made me so happy. When we were finally slowed to a walk and then a stop, I found myself wanting to stand next to the other pony, to smell her body, touch her flesh, return to her stall, and simply be ponies together.

Her name was Kerry; I knew this because the trainer had called her name several times. I felt my attention and desire pulled toward her as her trainer rubbed her down, using a sponge to cool her hot flesh and clean her. I followed the hands and water as they smoothed over her velvety skin, lifting soft breasts, water trickling down her stomach and between her legs. I hardly noticed Jon doing the same to my own body.

The sun was going down and we were returned to the barn. Kerry was returned to a different stall. Disappointment rippled inside me, though I was exhausted from the day and welcomed the chance to be in the stall and rest. The head harness and bit were removed and hung from a hook on the wall of my stall.

Food was available in my trough and I immediately ate. I was ravenous. It wasn't Cheerios this time, it was some other sort of cereal mixed with some apples; the sweetness was wonderful and I gulped it all down, licking the sides of the trough to make sure I had all of it. I then plunged my face into the water trough and drank deeply.

When I was done, the stable hand that I hated was standing behind me. He grabbed me, pushed me over to the wall and grabbed my tail. He yanked it out, hard, and I screamed with pain as my anus was torn. He laughed a bit and then left the stall.

I needed to poop, but my anus was hurting badly from the tail removal. I huddled in the corner for a while, crying. The hay had been cleaned out during the day and replaced with fresh hay. I peed. I tried pooping, and got a little out before it began to hurt too much. I curled up for a while, and then tried to poop again, getting a little more out. That stable hand was a sadist and there was nothing I could do about it.

When he returned with my tail, I cowered in the corner. He grabbed the leather lead and pulled me out, shoving me over into a bent position. He tied a rope through a ring in my armbinder and then threaded it through a ring in the wall of the stall. He pulled, and up my arms rose in back, forcing me over into a bent position. He kicked my legs apart with his heavy boots and then began dry humping me once again. I felt his hard cock through his jeans as he pushed and rubbed as hard as he could; it was as if he was trying to climax but couldn't.

Then the worst happened. He unzipped. He couldn't get off enough just dry humping, he needed more direct contact. Grabbing my hips he pulled me toward him. My arms were raised high up behind me, restricting movement, but I tried my best to wriggle away. He hung on and started rubbing his exposed cock against my buttocks and between my thighs.

I started to scream and I continued wriggling. He pushed harder, not entering me but getting very close. His pumping action was becoming faster but he didn't like my screaming; he clamped one hand over my mouth and muffled my cries. My screams were no longer very loud, but with only one hand on my hips he couldn't hold on to me very effectively and I was able to wriggle away. His hand slipped from my mouth back to my hips and I felt him get ready to enter me...

He stopped suddenly. I wasn't sure why until I heard the stall door open; he had heard someone come into the barn. Jon entered and stood observing the scene. "Fucking the animals, Michael?"

The stable hand withdrew and pulled his pants back up. "She was askin for it," he mumbled pitifully.

"Right. She was strapped up helpless and screaming; asking for it. You know better than that. She has an owner, and it isn't you. Using another man's pony for your own... it just isn't allowed. Pack your stuff and get out."

The stable hand stumbled out of the stall and that was the last I saw of him. Jon unstrapped my arms, and asked, "did he get inside?"

I shook my head.

"Good. It is up to Jason if another pony or someone else can use his pet. You can settle down for the night. It won't happen again. I brought a blanket for you." He threw a coarse blanket on the straw, then picked up my tail, which had fallen on the straw. He gently spread my ass cheeks. This time the plug went in smoothly; my sphincter was getting used to it and took it well. Especially as it wasn't being rammed in.

Jon left, and after calming myself some more and slurping some more water I lay on my side, kicked the blanket over me, and slept.




A new stable hand arrived the next day and did a much better job; he fed and watered me, cleaned my stall and put down new hay, and even folded my blanket. I could tell he was attracted to me but kept looking away, as if he was afraid to let his eyes roam over my naked body. He did remove my tail, and allowed me some time to defecate. My anus had become sore from constantly wearing the plug and I grunted and cried a little. The stable hand had me lean over and inspected my ass carefully.

I still wasn't used to letting strangers paw me, but I stood still has his fingers spread my ass cheeks and probed my sensitive anus. I yelped and whined a little when his fingers pressed on the raw and bleeding parts. His response was kind; he produced some lotion which when on smoothly and acted as a healing salve as well as a lube for the plug when he pushed it back in. All in all, I looked at him gratefully when he left. A good stable hand can make a big difference in the quality of life for a pony girl.

Jon arrived soon after the stable hand left, and proceeded to belt me into my harnesses. My arms were still bound behind me and he added leather harnesses around my breasts, chest, and hips. My hair was brushed thoroughly and then tied back. A head harness with a bit was added, and I was proud to see that this one was decorated with feathers, though it also had blinders. I could look directly ahead, but not to the side. The bit was pulled back, deep into my mouth once again. It felt comforting to be able to bite into it, though I felt myself begin to drool soon after it was inserted.

With a little geeup noise, Jon had me prancing out of the barn and joining Kerry out in the barnyard. She was adorned in the same leather trappings as I, and I found myself staring at her beauty. She carried herself straight and tall and proud, standing obediently. Seeing this, I raised my head and straightened my back, attempting to match her proud stance.

Once Jason joined us, Jon began putting Kerry and I through our paces. We walked, trotted, pranced. We perfected our simultaneous movement, silently following each other. The whip licked my ass or back on occasion, but not as much as the day before. I was getting better, and Kerry was helping me.

It was hot and I was sweating. We were led to a large water trough, and allowed to bend over and immerse our faces, sucking up water.

Jon was satisfied in the afternoon, and suggested that I be fitted for horse shoes. Jason agreed. I had no idea what this might mean; so far I had been barefoot (and had some cuts and sore spots even though the yard and corral had been soft dirt).

When the pony shoes came, they turned out to be leather boots that came up to just below my knees. They had heavy metal soles in the inverted U shape of a horse shoe. When I put them on, my heels were pushed up as if I was wearing high heels, but the base of the boot was heavy and sturdy, not like heels at all. I pushed and kicked with the new boots, kicking dirt up and getting the feel of them. My feet felt heavy, but I also felt like I could go anywhere and do anything.


A stinging slice of the whip across my back got my attention and I stood still. "Keep those feet still. No kicking up dirt there!" Jon demanded.

I practiced walking, trotting, even running in the new boots. It was difficult at first but I quickly got the hang of lifting my legs and keeping my feet high so as not to trip or drag my hooves.

Finally, Jon told Jason I was ready to be put to work.

A different harness was used, a rougher one that was designed with heavy wide straps that fit across my chest and hips. My arms were kept behind me, but no longer in the armbinder. This allowed room for my elbows to flex, which helped me when pulling. I wore the heavy horse shoe boots, which were necessary, as Kerry and I were led across a rough field to an area where some brush and trees had been cleared.

A cart filled with wood and debris from the clearing stood waiting. Kerry and I were placed in front of the cart next to each other while heavy ropes were attached to our harnesses. When all was ready, there was a loud crack of a whip and the two of us started pulling the cart.

At first, it didn't budge. I strained and heaved, feeling the leather straps biting into my naked flesh. I could hear Kerry next to me grunting with effort as well. I couldn't see her because the blinders on my head harness prevented any peripheral vision, but I could feel her pulling along with me. Another crack of the whip that was accompanied by a searing sting across my ass got me pulling harder than I thought was possible. Just when I thought I would strain a muscle the cart suddenly lurched free and began bumpily rolling forward.

For the rest of the day Kerry and I pulled the cart filled with rocks, wood and other debris out of the field where it was dumped in a hollow. We then returned with the empty cart, waited for it to be loaded, and then pulled it back once again. It was by far the hardest work I had ever done, but Jon and Jason took good care of Kerry and myself. We were watered frequently, and our filthy bodies wiped down every hour or so.

Perhaps the hardest part of the day was getting used to urinating. At one point when we were waiting as the cart was filled, I felt Kerry spread her legs and then heard the splash of liquid. It reminded me of how badly I needed to go, and I remembered the instructions when I arrived. I could urinate at any time. Spreading my legs I tried to let go of my bladder. It didn't want to cooperate at first; outside in the field with workers watching my naked body, I was simply intimidated and shy. But after a while, the need overcame my shyness. I attempted it again and this time was rewarded by letting loose of a steady stream of urine that seemed to go on forever. It felt wonderful to be empty and from then on I had no trouble peeing anyplace, anytime.

At the end of the day Kerry and I were untied from the cart and led back to the barn. I was exhausted and thought I would collapse as soon as we arrived in my stall. It felt good being in the barn, to rest and feed.

Both Kerry and I were led into my stall. Oat cereal was there for us, with some apples and berries. It was such a treat, and Kerry and I shared the trough. She ate ravenously, wolfing down the food quickly. When we had cleared the food and drunk our fill of water, a stable hand came in and removed our tails.

I watched Kerry bend over and expose herself so she could be de-tailed. I saw her relax her sphincter muscles as the stable hand wiggled the plug, and then her anus suddenly expanded wider than I ever thought possible. Her plug came out suddenly, sliding out as her anus closed around the tapered end. Once again, I observed her body more closely, and became envious of her lean, solid frame and muscular legs. She was gorgeous. A perfect pony.

I bent over and while my plug was being removed I heard Kerry relieving herself in the corner of the stall. After my somewhat slower and more painful de-tailing, I went to the same spot and also relieved myself. My lower abdomen felt such relief and I began to feel better from the work of the day.

The two of us had our horse shoes removed and then were given a bath, water dumped over us and then wiped down thoroughly. As Kerry received her bath, I watched every portion of her body as strong hands rubbed her down with cloths. I caught her looking at me once or twice as the stable boy cleaned me, taking special care to clean between my legs and ass cheeks.

As grateful as I was to be cared for, it was something of a relief when the stable boy replaced our tails and then left us alone. As soon as he left, I lay down on the clean straw. Kerry moved over and lay down next to me. It was cool now, the sun was down and the temperature was dropping. Her body heat pleased me.

I opened my mouth to speak to her but her eyes flashed a moment of fear as she shook her head. Instead she lay down next to me, spooning my body. I pressed backward against her, my tail pushing back against her hips. She raised one leg over mine, opening and exposing her pussy. My tail slid back and we snuggled together as best we could with our hands still secured behind our backs. After a little while I realized that Kerry was slowly rocking her hips against my ass, and my tail. The base of my tail was pressing against her pussy and she was slowly masturbating. I pushed back against her to help, keeping up with her rocking motion. She gasped and leaned forward to nuzzle my neck, and action that made me hot, aroused, lustful. I pushed and rocked with her as she pressed harder and harder and then quietly moaned and shuddered with orgasm.

It felt so good to feel Kerry's breasts on my back, her leg over mine and her hips rocking together with mine. I wanted to get on my knees and spread my legs and let her fuck me, but instead I rolled over and kissed her deeply. She returned the kiss and we lay together, allowing our tongues to play for a while.

With a quirky grin, Kerry slid down my body, stopping briefly at my breasts to suckle my nipples. I lay on my back, hips rotated up so that my tail lay flat and didn't jam up into my rectum. As she slid further, I spread my legs in anticipation of her arrival at my own pussy.

She was amazing. Her tongue flicked my clit, teased me at first and then sucking me into her mouth. Her lips slid over my most sensitive outer parts as her tongue plunged deep. My hips raised high to meet her and it took very little time before I felt my own climax spreading. I moaned loudly, speaking no words but making my desire, my passion for this female known. My legs were shaking, weak from the day's work but I kept my hips raised until I was spent. I then collapsed.

Kerry and I slept together, spooning and snuggling all night. She had become my ideal, the pony I aspired to be, the partner I wanted.




The next day Kerry and I performed together, training more in the corral and then hauling debris and doing other work around the farm. It was in the late afternoon that I observed an interesting interaction which surprised me greatly. I had just been led back to the barnyard and had my leather reigns tied to a ring on a fence near the corral, which was in use.

The corral was being used to do some intense training of the tall dark haired male pony I had observed before. As he pranced around the circular area I found myself staring at his lean naked body, and had my attention once again drawn to his well hung genitals. The shorter blond female pony was tied up to the side of the corral, observing the male's training, which ended soon after. The male was left to wander about for a while as the trainer talked with a tall woman standing just outside the fence, whom I took to be the male's owner.

As I watched, the short blond pony turned and leaned over the fence slightly, bracing her stomach against the wood and spreading her legs slightly. She remained there, and did not move. The male noticed her in this position and began to slowly move to where she stood, exposing her pussy for him. His cock was growing as he moved and by the time he positioned himself behind the female pony it was fully erect. He was truly well endowed, and I looked with envy as he moved his hips into position and began a slow pressing motion between the female's legs.

The trainers and owners at the other side of the corral took no notice of the sexual activity of the ponies. The male pony had slipped inside the blond pony and was pushing to get in deeper. The female was arching her back and thrusting backwards, encouraging his deep entry. In moments they were rhythmically fucking, banging hips together as Kerry and I watched. Kerry nuzzled my neck in a sort of intimate gesture as we watched, and I nuzzled back. It felt incredibly odd watching the two ponies engaged in intercourse so casually and in the open, but I was also aroused and Kerry was heating me up even more as she rubbed her body against mine and nuzzled my neck.

Eventually, the noise produced by the two ponies in the corral drew the attention of the owner and trainer. Rather than interfering, they looked on with mild interest, discussing something between themselves. A final loud grunt from the male and moan from the female announced the end of their activity, and as the male slipped out of her he nuzzled her lovingly. At the same time I felt Kerry nuzzling me and turned to her. I nuzzled her back; I wanted to wrap my arms around her I was so aroused and attracted but both her wrists and mine were still bound behind us. Apparently, the nuzzling act was a sexual approach between ponies that I was learning.

It took only a minute before I was down on my knees and burying my face between Kerry's legs. My tongue sought out her soft folds of flesh as she spread her legs and thrust her hips forward to help me service her. My nose rubbed her clit, my tongue buried deep inside her and I was gratified to hear her gasp and moan softly. She tasted beautiful, better than any woman I had ever been with, and I pushed to delve as deeply into her as I could. Her hips began thrusting and rotating up and down, encouraging more movement, which I gave her gladly.

I was so happy, so involved, that when Kerry orgasmed it came as a surprise. I could have knelt there all day, simply drinking in that pony's sex. But the climax came, and when it was over I stood and suddenly realized that the two ponies in the corral and the owner and trainer had been watching us. I flushed bright red with embarrassment, and moved behind Kerry to hide myself. Kerry seemed undisturbed, and eventually I stopped hiding. I nuzzled Kerry, letting her know exactly how much I appreciated her companionship.




For several days I was paired with Kerry and trained with her. My back was initially sore from the periodic stings of a whip or riding crop, but as I learned how to behave it became easier to avoid such encouragements. I could feel myself becoming stronger, as well. Kerry's body was so lean and strong that I had concluded she was the perfect pony, and the perfect woman. I looked to her as my model in everything, and enjoyed sleeping with and making love to her each evening. When our hands were not in armbinders, we spooned and the spoonee would user her hands to stimulate the spooner. When we were in binders and unable to use our hands, we used our tongues and any other part of our body we could to bring pleasure to each other.

The day came when I was led off alone. Kerry was left behind and I felt empty and incomplete without her. I was led to the other side of the barn where a small cart or trap was resting on the ground. The trap was a small, two wheeled vehicle with a single seat for a passenger. It had two long poles extending out from it. I was positioned between these poles. I had seen them in use before, and knew basically what to do.

The harness for the trap was elaborate, partly because it was decorated and ornate. The headgear that was placed on me included feathers and blinders, as well as the usual bit. Straps were placed around (but not covering) my breasts, and a heavy corset was added. Below, a waist strap was added to assist in attaching and pulling the cart. Reigns were added, running from either side of my headgear behind me to the trap.

When I was completely harnessed and ready, Jason arrived and climbed into the cart behind. I felt the reigns shake slightly and Jason made a knickering noise. I pulled and began moving forward.

Keeping a steady motion moving forward was difficult, and I knew I was jerking the cart both side to side and forward and backward. Jason was very kind with the whip but eventually I felt its stinging lash cut across my bare flesh as he reminded me to keep a steady forward movement. He pulled the reigns and guided me as I pulled him around the road that surrounded the farm. We must have traveled almost three miles on dirt roads when we arrived back at the barn.

I was exhausted. My back stung from the frequent urgings of the whip, and my legs were shaking from tiredness. It had not been bad starting out, but eventually my muscles had started burning and pulling became harder and harder, prompting Jason to urge me on with the whip. I knew I had a criss cross of red welts across my back and ass.

Jon came out and joined Jason as he unhooked me. They spoke of something as they unharnessed me from the rig and also from the more decorative parts of the harness. I overheard enough that it seemed that Jason was pleased with my performance which made me glow with happiness. But then I heard something about a punishment and began to cry from fear. I had tried so hard it didn't seem possible that I was going to be punished.

I cried quietly, tears running down my cheeks as Jason led me through the barn and out into the large barnyard. All the ponies were there, and we joined them standing, looking at the whipping cross at the side of the yard. Attached to the cross with chains was the smaller, blond male pony that I had seen my first day at the farm. With sudden relief I realized that the male was to be punished, not me. He was breathing heavily and sobbing audibly. It seemed strange to me that he should be crying before the whip even stung him.

A tall woman wearing jeans, cowboy boots and a heavy denim shirt stepped up behind him and wielded the whip. Though she appeared to be about 40 years old, she was gorgeous. Long ebony black hair shown in the sun, her jeans were tight around her ass and a flat stomach enhanced the look of breasts that pushed her shirt out above. She cracked the whip once to get the feel and heft, and the male cried out and shook.

"Please, Mistress Sonja, I have done all you asked! I am your good slave and wish nothing but your pleasure, don't whip me! I have done nothing! Please!!!" The male broke into a sudden pleading that surprised and shocked me. I had been without speech and amongst other ponies that did not speak for so long that I was literally offended to her the weak male begging like that. It turned my stomach that a supposedly devoted slave would break silence and insult his Mistress by protesting his innocence.

The woman leaned over and spoke in the pony's ear quietly. Whatever she said made him wail and cry as she stepped back from him and pulled back on the whip. She let it fly with an expert hand. It stroked across the male's back and wrapped around the cross, licking his sides as it struck. She yanked quickly, causing the whip to drag back across the wounds it had just cut into the flesh.

The wimpy male pony screamed from the pain of the first stroke. I noted this whip was no flogger, it was a 9 foot long bullwhip. As it whistled through the air and sliced across the back of the pony again, I averted my eyes and looked up at Kerry, who stood next to me. Kerry was staring at the spectacle with a strange look that I think was satisfaction. The screams continued, accompanied by the crack of the whip, and Kerry leaned down to me and nuzzled me kindly. I kissed her back, and then we both turned to watch the whipping continue.

When it was over, the male pony was slumped down, hanging from the chains that held his wrists aloft. He was unchained and fell to the ground, sobbing. Bloody streaks criss crossed his back. I felt sorry for him, but also felt glad that it was not me laying on the ground. I also felt a twinge of pride that I had not needed to be punished; I was obedient, a good pony and slave for my owner. I was satisfied.




The days moved on, alternating periods of training with work of various sorts, until one day I was led to the back of the barn and observed there were four traps; four carts waiting to be hooked up and be drawn by ponies. Jason was there and harnessed me with solid, decorative leather. The other ponies were also brought out and harnessed. The owners of all four of us were there, and took their positions in the seats of the traps.

I felt good. I felt strong. It felt good to have Jason behind me again, guiding and urging me on. We rode out to the road which circled the farm, and then all lined up together, facing down the road. It was at this point that I realized what was happening.

It was a race.

Jon positioned himself by the side of the road and waited a moment before taking a starter's pistol out and firing it. As soon as it cracked, Jason shook my reigns and we were off, gaining speed. I worked hard, pulling as fast as I could. Kerry was in front of me, as was the tall hardbody male that was so well hung. The other female was neck and neck with me, though my blinders kept me from seeing her. Jason cracked the whip without letting it touch me, urging me on.

I could tell I was pulling away from the other female, the blond that had fucked the large male. As we entered the first turn I cut closer to the edge, trying to gain on the tall male. I got closer, but his owner slapped him with the whip and he suddenly moved forward again. Jason was being kind, he didn't use the whip on my back; he could see I was motivated to all I could to win.

As we entered the second turn, the tall male in front of me suddenly caught a stone under his foot and lost momentum for a moment. It was all I needed, and with a burst of effort I was able to pass him. His owner started whipping him mercilessly, but I had gained the momentum and maintained my place just short of Kerry. Kerry was moving with a long, practiced stride, her breasts bouncing slightly, her flesh a shiny sheen from sweat. I could not help but see her adoringly.

I realized at that moment that I had fallen in love with Kerry, and that she was everything I had ever wanted in a female partner, mate, playmate, coworker... I also realized I wanted to pass her and win, very, very badly. I pushed hard and gained a little.

We went into a third turn and ahead of us was Jon, standing with a finish flag. We were on the last straightaway, and as hard as I tried, I could not gain on Kerry. She was just out of sight to my left, behind the point where I could see her past my blinders. As we approached the finish line, I felt the stinging slice of Jason's whip across my shoulders. I gave one last burst of speed as we crossed the finish line and Jon waved the flag.

After the race, all the ponies were unharnessed and rubbed down my stable boys. I was washed with water, massaged and my hair brushed. My pussy hair, which was shaved when we arrived but had grown out, was brushed gently. My tail was brushed. When I was done, watered and rested, we were brought to the corral and saw the owners laughing and exchanging money. Apparently, there had been bets as to who would win.

Kerry came over and I did not understand why she looked so sad. She rubbed against me, nuzzling and kissing me. I nuzzled and kissed back. She looked good, her hair and tail had been brushed like mine, all the dirt and grime washed off, and her skin looked healthy and smooth. Looking at her standing there, hands strapped behind her back, breasts thrust outward, tall and straight, a beautiful piny girl, I felt the rush of adoration. I pressed against her, my cheek on her bare breast. She was crying softly, and I could not ask why.




The next day my tail was removed, all harnesses and restraints taken off. I was given a meal of meat and vegetables and fruit. When I was done, Jason came and told me to follow him. I did, and he led me to his car. On the hood were clothes.

"Put on your clothes," Jason said.

I looked at him questioningly. I didn't understand.

"Go ahead. We are going home. Vacation is over. Oh, and you may speak now."

I reached forward and handled a pair of panties. I knew what they were for, but it seemed like years since I had worn clothing and I found I didn't want to put them on.

"Siobhan. Put on your clothes. You have been an excellent pony girl, but it is time to go home now."

I obeyed, and stepped into the panties. They felt extremely strange. I turned to Jason and willed myself to speak, however unnatural it felt.

"Jason... This doesn't feel right. This has become my home."

Jason smiled at me. "Yes, you really have grown. I had no idea when we came here just how well you would adapt. You are a born pony girl. Perhaps we can return some time."

As I put on a bra (a most distasteful and uncomfortable feeling), I thought about home.

"Yes, Jason." As the jeans went on and then a top, I began to cry.

"What's the matter Siobhan? You have done well. You are stronger, more obedient. You are going to be a better wife and slave for this experience. It has been good, hasn't it?"

I turned to him, dressed except for my shoes, which I could not bring myself to put on.

"Yes, Jason. But... tell me. Where does Kerry live? Will we be able to see her again? She and I... well, we have become close."

"I saw that, Siobhan. I enjoyed watching the two of you. Remember, she is owned by another, and you are owned by me. She is a dedicated pony, all the time, her owner brings her here periodically, but she lives in another part of the country. Some day, you may be able to see her again."

We got in the car and as we drove down the road on which I had raced against Kerry just the day before, tears rolled down my cheeks.



Coming home from work had taken on an almost ritualistic pattern for me. I parked my Lexus in the drive and entered the house to automatically shed the trappings of my day time life and work. Heading upstairs, I removed all my clothes, for I was generally forbidden to wear anything when at home. Nakedness and exposure was expected at all times, except for rared occasions.

Next I removed my makeup and simple jewelry, except for my collar of course. My collar is a thin but very strong circular band of platinum which can not be removed without some rather heavy tools. I wear it as a symbol of my marital and slave state instead of a wedding ring. It looks like a nice piece of jewelry, and I frequently wear a small diamond or sapphire pendant from it.

After peeling off the symbols of my employment during the day, I went downstairs and began cooking dinner. We expected company that evening, and I was fixing a special meal; home made lasagna, salad, and garlic bread. As the lasagna baked, I began to clean the house in preparation for Jason's arrival later.

At 6:30, Jason arrived home, and I could feel the slight twinge of excitement I still feel whenever I am in his presence. Jason is my master, my owner, my husband, and my life. I am dedicated to him and his pleasure, in all ways. I work at my job to earn money for him, to please him that I am productive. When at home, I am his plaything, subject to all his whims and desires. My body and mind are his, at all times.

I went up to him and kissed him on his cheek. His rough hands caressed my naked flesh and pulled me to him. Resting my head on his shoulder, I sighed in contentment, but then looked at him. "Is Jon coming tonight? I am fixing dinner for you. Shall I dress for the occasion?"

Jason shook his head. "No, dearest. You are lovely as you are. The dinner will be just for me and Jon tonight, you can remain in the bedroom."

This was a little unusual. In asking if I was to be dressed, I was asking whether I was to wear clothing because of our guest. Jason was making it clear that I was to remain naked while the guest was in our house, and to not participate in the meal. "Yes, sir. Should I eat before?"

"Yes, you can eat a little before he comes, which should be in half an hour. Let me know when you are done setting the table."

I did as instructed, grabbing myself a sandwich as I set the table and finished preparing the dinner for two. When the lasagna was done, salad tossed, and bread in a basket, I moved to the living room where Jason was reading.

"Everything is ready for you and Jon. Are you sure you don't want me dressed? I have never met Jon before, you know." I was concerned that a person not familiar with my status as owned slave would see me naked and question us. We are usually discrete about our relationship.

"I told you before, no. You are not to dress. Come with me." Jason rose and I followed him into the bedroom. Jason pulled out the wooden pony that he keeps in the walk in closet for punishment. I have only ridden it a few times, and the experience can range from uncomfortable to excruciatingly painful, depending on how long I am left to ride.

"Jason... I don't understand. Have I failed you in some way? Please, I don't see the need for punishment--"

Jason cut me off, "Siobhan, when will you learn to stop questioning me? I know you mean well, but you are constantly calling my judgment into question and arguing. This is to remind you that you are mine, and what I decide is final. Slide into position."

I could feel the sweat break out on my forehead as I raised one leg and swung over the wooden beam of the pony. I hate the pony. It hurts, and the longer I am forced to sit on it, the deeper the hurt goes, spreading and cramping through my clit, my cunt, my vagina, my hips...

Standing on my toes with one leg on each side of the wooden board I could feel the sharp edge below me, waiting for me to rest my weight on it. Jason took my hands behind my back and handcuffed my wrists together. He fondled my breasts for a moment. I was shaking just a little in anticipation as he slipped one hand between my legs and found my clit, rubbing it slightly. I moaned involuntarily.

Jason reached under the bed for the leg spreader, the device that would force my legs apart and make it impossible not to rest my weight on the pony. He pulled one of my legs to the side, and I felt the wooden edge dig into the soft flesh between my legs. The spreader was buckled around my right ankle, and then the left. As my left leg was pushed out to fit into the spreader, my full body weight pressed down on my labia lips, smashing them, and beginning the cycle of increasing pain.

I still tried to lift myself up by standing on my tip toes, but I knew from experience the effort was futile. Somehow, I couldn't help it. My calves strained, feet pointed out and down, toes reaching the carpet below me attempting to lift me up. My cunt ached already.


Jason kissed me and then left the room. I rocked slowly, back and forth, side to side, on the pony, beginning a long evening of suffering for my owner.

I heard Jon arrive about 15 minutes later. The door to the bedroom was ajar and I could hear Jason talking to him as they sat down to eat. I hoped they enjoyed the dinner I had prepared for them, though it was hard to concentrate on what was going on in the other room; the pain in my groin was slowly increasing.

It wasn't until after dinner that I began to hear what they were discussing. The area of my vulva was numb by then, though the aching pain was radiating outward across my hips. My face was wet from tears, though I refused to let out a sob or other audible evidence of my suffering. Rolling back slightly so that the pressure was on my anus, I listened to the men talking.

"I think it's a great idea, Jason," Jon was saying. "We the ranch is way out in the country and the spot is open. You and I could have a good time fishing and riding, maybe even hunt a bit. And the training would absolutely be good for her, I am sure of it. I have never seen a case where it didn't have a beneficial effect."

"Yep. She could use the exercise, too. She has an office job, you know, and has been getting soft. Not that I mind soft, but she could stand to lose a few. I could really enjoy the time off, as well." Jason sounded happy.

"We are fully equipped so unless she is an odd size, we could accommodate her. Would you be interested in breeding her?" Jon said.
"It't something to consider," Jason sounded thoughtful. A chill ran down my spine which mixed with the agony spreading across my ass. "Would you like to see her?"

After talking a bit more, the two men came into the bedroom. I hung my head, my hair covering my face from view. For some reason, I was always ashamed to be seen riding the wooden pony.

"Oh my, she is lovely," Jon sounded awed. "Yes, she will do well. How long has she been riding tonight?"

Jon reached out and touched my left breast, caressing my flesh and then sliding his finger tips down my side. Jason reached under my chin and lifted my face so that Jon could see my tear streaked face, and I could see the rough, weather worn face of a man slightly older than Jason. "How long have you been riding tonight, dear?"

I glanced at the clock on the wall. "93 minutes, Jason."

Jon laughed. "Precise bitch. I bet she watches every minute tick by, as well!"

They left the room, closing the door behind them so I could no longer hear. I was left alone with my pain, watching the clock tick by. It wasn't until I had been on the pony for almost three hours that Jason came back in and released me.

My legs shook as I tried to stand, and I barely made it to the bed before collapsing in a fetal ball. There really is no position that relieves the pain from riding the pony, but curling up sometimes makes my mind feel a little better. Jason sat down behind me and caressed my exposed ass and cunt as he explained to me.

"Well, Siobhan, I decided it was time for us to take a little vacation. Jon owns a ranch in the country and has invited us to spend some time there. It's a special ranch, one where special training for... slaves like you can be conducted."

I rolled over and looked at Jason with anxious eyes. "You won't give me up to someone else, will you? I am yours. You own me. Only you!"

Jason reached down and took my head in his hands and kissed me. "The training is pony training. You will be trained to act as a pony, to wear the proper attire, have the proper attitude and strengthen yourself. When you are ready, you may be allowed to serve by pulling carts or traps."




The ranch was in the foothills, distant from any towns. As with any long trips, I was transported in the back of Jason's SUV, naked with my wrists and ankles secured in a single bracket that kept me doubled over. It was nearly a five hour drive, and I was incredibly sore and tired when they finally lifted me out. Being secured in that manner, unable to move and then being lifted out and carried when we arrived impressed on me just how much of a slave I was. I didn't even feel like a slave, I felt like an animal, or piece of meat or furniture.

I was carried upside down across a large dirt open area that was partially surrounded by rustic wooden buildings. One of the buildings was a barn, and we entered through two open large double doors and into a central corridor. Stalls lined the corridor, each with a closed and barred wooden door. The two men set me down in the middle of the dirt floor and unlocked my restraints.

The two men were unfamiliar to me. I slowly stretched my arms and legs out, getting my muscles back in shape after the long cramped ride, and watched the men as they unbarred one of the doors to a stall. A small slit of a window lit the interior, showing the floor covered with hay, several iron rings and bars fixed to the walls, a couple of troughs... and that was it. I was let inside, and then left alone as the two men closed the door. I heard the bar slide into place outside. I was locked in.

It was sunny outside and the peak of the heated afternoon. The shade of the barn made it cooler, but I was still sweating, my skin slick. Dirt stuck to my flesh and made me look terrible, this worried me as I was used to always looking my best for Jason. I had to pee and there was no place I could see. I waited.

My bladder was about to burst when the door was unbarred and Jason and Jon came in. Jason immediately checked me to make sure I was OK, looking my naked body over. Jon poured a bucket of water into a trough and checked the straw. He then came over.

"Please, sir. Jason, I need to pee badly. May I go to the toilet?"
Jon responded instead of Jason. "You may pee at any time, anywhere you are, unless you are inside a building designated for humans. You may pee on the floor here, on the ground outside, or where ever you may be. No permission is necessary."

My mind had trouble grasping this concept... I was to urinate anytime, anyplace? This stall was obviously mine, I was to be kept here. I was to urinate on the floor of my cell? It began to sink in... I was being treated like an animal. I bit my lip and lowered my eyes as I blushed.

Jon went to the side of the stall and took something down from the wall. I looked at the curious item, which looked at first like a flogger, except the strands were too fine. Then I realized -- it was a tail. Three feet long, brushed horse hair which ran up to a large butt plug. A really large but plug. I whimpered as Jon brought it over to me.

"Bend over and present your anus." Jon's voice made it clear there would be no arguing. I leaned over and spread my legs. With both hands, I reached back, grabbed my ass cheeks and pulled them apart. I have never gotten used to this-- the slightly cool air penetrating to my anus makes me feel incredibly vulnerable and exposed. The plug was pressed against my anus, slowly wriggling and penetrating. My natural reaction was to clench, but I had experience with this and quickly pushed out, which relaxed the sphincter and allowed penetration more easily.

"Good girl, steady..." Jon spoke in a reassuring voice as he pushed and twisted the plug deeper and deeper, spreading my flesh wider and wider until it began hurting and I whimpered from the pain. "Good girl... just a little more and you will be there..."

Just when I thought I would not be able to take the plug, that it would tear me open instead, it slid in and narrowed. My sphincter automatically clamped down on the narrow neck of the plug, keeping the huge bulk of it inside. It was clearly large enough that it would not be expelled easily; it would take someone pulling it out.

"Good girl! I knew you could do it." Jon stroked my hair and then slapped my ass cheek as I raised up. Standing up made the plug shift inside, and it hurt a little, but I stood with my new tail hanging down behind me and tried to be as straight as possible. My breasts stood out in front of me, and I could see Jason look at me with pride. That in turn made me feel proud. I was doing well for him and was not an embarrassment.

Jon placed a long leash on my slave collar, and led me around the stall in a circle. I waddled some from the plug. "Don't worry, you will get used to that," he said." A few rules around here. First, you don't speak. We speak. You are a pony. We are your masters and trainers."

"You will wear your tail all the time. You will obey all commands. You will work hard to please your trainers. You will be fed twice a day, here in your stall. You may drink at any time water is present, but you will only be fed once in the morning, once in the evening. After you have fed, your tail will be removed temporarily and if you feel the need, you may then relieve your bowels here, on the straw. There will be no other opportunity to relieve your bowels."

Jon took a small riding crop and slapped my ass with it. "Raise your knees when you walk!"

I raised my knees higher as I walked around the perimeter of the stall. *Slap* another stinging blow on my thigh and I really raised my knees high, making a show of walking. I could feel my breasts jiggling a little as I pranced.

"Head high! Chin up!" Jon was giving directions as I pranced around the stall. Constantly correcting my posture and my gait, reminding me to look straight ahead, to keep an even pace, and so on. When I forgot an instruction, the riding crop would slap hard against my naked flesh, making me jump. It felt good when there was no sting because I knew I was doing well, I felt like a failure when he had to strike me.

I was finally allowed to stop and rest. My thighs were aching from the constant high stepping gait, and I was breathing hard. Sweat trickled down my face, chest and back. It had been a real workout.

"Jon, I would love to see any of the other ponies you have right now. Would that be possible?" Jason said as Jon tied my leather leash to a ring in the wall.

"Sure, let's go take a look," Jon replied, and they were gone.

I still needed to pee and had not been able to while I was being exercised. Looking around the stall, it was clear that there was no specific place to be used; there was simply a layer of straw. Choosing a corner, I squatted and tried to pee. It didn't come. The strange surroundings had me tense. Closing my eyes I relaxed myself... and it came. The pee streamed out and into the straw below me. When I was done, I stood and checked around the stall and got a drink of water from the trough.

My legs were still shaky from the exercise and I started to sit down. As soon as my ass pressed down to rest on the floor I leaped up again. Sitting down caused the tail to ram the plug deeper into my ass. I could kneel, stand, be on all fours, or lie down on my side, but I couldn't sit. I chose to lie down, and began to idly masturbate, looking at the wooden walls and dreaming of performing for Jason.

That evening a young man came into my stall. I stood up in the corner, not knowing what to expect. He was tall, blond, and well muscled, and looked my naked body over appreciatively, eyes resting on my exposed breasts and pussy. I stood motionless, waiting. Eventually, he brought in a bucket of something, and poured it into a small trough attached to the wall. It looked like Cheerios. He checked my water and refilled it.

Finally, the young man left and returned with a set of leather straps; a harness of some kind. "Raise your arms," he ordered. I raised them and he put my neck in a stiff posture collar, and buckled a harness around my chest so that it surrounded, but did not cover, my breasts. A belt was the last accessory; it was wide and he tightened it around my waist, making it a little hard to breathe.

"Please... that's making it hard to breathe. Can it be loosened?" I asked in a respectful voice. The stable hand ignored me, instead joining my arms together in the back and slid a monoglove up. Straps went around my shoulders, buckled tightly to prevent the binder from slipping off. Turning me around, he started tightening the laces, beginning from the bottom. At each eyelet, he pulled the leather surrounding my arms tight together, rising higher and higher. My elbows cinched closer together and as the laces were tightened in my upper arms my shoulders were pulled back as well. Finally reaching the top and tying off the laces left me in the tightest armbinder I had ever experienced. My shoulders were cramping slightly.

The stable hand checked his work, and satisfied with my leather pony gear, pushed me over into a bending position. My ass was exposed and he kicked my legs apart. Taking hold of the tail secured inside my ass he pulled, hard. It hurt horribly at first as the circle of my sphincter was forced open wider than it was meant to, but within seconds that wide portion of the plug slipped past and I was pushing the plug out and feeling tremendous relief.

Having finished withdrawal of the plug, the stable boy slipped his hand down between my ass cheeks and then down between my legs. I didn't know what to do, so I simply held still as his fingers rubbed the soft folds of my flesh, searching for my clit. When he found it, he moved one finger up and down slowly, rubbing it for a few seconds. While I was aroused, I was also confused by his attentions. He stopped after a few moments of massaging my outer labia.

left me alone in the stall, securing the door after he left. I waddled over to the trough and checked the food left there, discovering exactly what it had looked like - Cheerios. My arms were tight behind my back, neck in a collar, but I could bend at the waist and eat from the trough, which I did eagerly. I was hungry, very hungry, for it was evening and I had not eaten all day. I licked the bottom of the trough to get the last bits of food out, and drank deeply from the water, sucking it up between my lips. I even spit small amounts out to try and wash off my body a bit-- an effort that had limited success.

When the butt plug had been removed, it had been a tremendous relief, as if I had shit out the biggest bowel movement of my life. After eating, I realized I still needed to go; and remembered the schedule Jon had dictated. The plug had been removed and this was the time I would be allowed to defecate. Looking around, I surveyed the straw covered floor. There was the spot where I had peed; as good a place as any. I walked over and squatted.

Pushing with all my might, I felt the bowel movement beginning to come, just as the door opened and the stable hand entered again. My ass immediately clenched, cutting the poop off midway. I don't think I had ever been as humiliated as I was at that point. The man just stood looking at me as I squatted, with a smirk on his face. I closed my eyes, turned my head and pushed again, getting a little more out. When I had gotten as much out as I could, I stood up.

The stable hand kicked my legs apart roughly, and bent me over once again. He leaned over me as if he was going to assfuck me and reached around to fondle my breasts. His hips shoved against my ass and I could feel his erection pressing against his jeans as he dry humped me. I took it silently, but swore I would fight back if he attempted to enter me in anyway. I wasn't his property, I was Jason's. He stopped after a moment with sigh; using his fingers to spread my ass cheeks he re-inserted the pony tail / plug.

He wasn't as kind with the insertion as Jon had been. He shoved the plug up my anus as hard as he could, and the pain caused me to yelp and cry a little. I wondered if my flesh had torn. When my sphincter closed tightly around the neck of the plug and I felt the tail brushing the back of my thighs I stood and watched the stable hand leave once again. The final clunk of the door reminded me that I was trapped here, alone, my arms bound and a tail sticking out of my ass.

I went to sleep laying on the opposite side of the stall from where I had defecated.



The next day I awoke from a fitful sleep. Even though the days were hot, it had been cold in the barn and I was naked. My shoulders ached from the armbinder and the butt plug was irritating my anus. I had to go pee and poop, and was hungry. The only thing I could do something about was pee, and I squatted in my selected spot to relieve myself.

The ritual of the previous day's meal was repeated. Cereal, water, removal of the plug. A chance to defecate and then leaning over to be fondled and dry humped by the stable boy. A painful re-insertion of the plug and I was alone again until the stall door opened and Jason entered with Jon.

"Rick reports that you spoke to him when he strapped you in your harness. You were informed that this was not acceptable," Jon sounded stern. "I realize that this is your first incident of disobedience, but I find it is better to let new animals know the consequences of their misbehavior immediately."

Jason took a long leather lead and clipped it to my collar. I hung my head, worried about what the punishment for speaking might be and why that stable boy had it in for me. I was taken outside in front of the barn. The armbinder was removed and I groaned from the pain of blood rushing back into my shoulder joints. To the side of the central farm yard was a Saint Andrew's cross, a large heavy beamed wood X with short chains dangling from the four corners. I had a pretty good idea what it was for and tears began to roll down my cheeks as I began to shake.

From out of the barn, Rick and several other stable hands emerged, leading other naked slaves in pony gear. I had not realized I was not alone in the barn, but there were three women and two men that were led out to the center of the yard. It was clear they had been brought out to watch my punishment. I felt a flush of humiliation as I realized I was to be publicly whipped as an example for the other ponies.

In spite of the impending punishment, I was able to get a look at the other "animals". The women were all beautiful, two brunettes and a blond. One of the brunettes had long hair like me, the other was cut short in a very cute bob. The blond had longer hair pulled back. They were all lean and muscular. I realized they must have been trained as ponies for some time and were very fit.

The male ponies were different. One was tall and dark, with a muscular body. He was very well hung and I couldn't help but look at him with a certain desire. The other male was shorter, lighter and softer. He looked weak and had marks on his body from a recent whipping.


The whipping... yes.... I was led to the cross, my arms raised and shackled in place. My legs were kicked wide and also shackled in place, which made the weight of my body hang from my wrists. I reached my tip toes down to support myself and waited for the whipping to begin. I was embarrassed at how my legs were spread for all the other ponies to see between them, but there was no choice.

The whistle of the strap announced the first stroke. It sliced across my back from the middle of my ribs and up across my right shoulder blade. I jerked with the sudden pain and yelped. My head snapped back and I stared up at the blue sky for a moment before another stinging slice hit my ass, the tip of the strap wrapping around my hip and almost into my pussy. My muscles clenched from the pain and I grunted this time.

A total of six lashes with the strap and the punishment stopped. I was glad; I was sure I had welts across my back and buttocks. The wounds continued to throb as I was unchained from the whipping cross. I saw the other ponies observing my suffering. The tall male looked sympathetic. The females looked afraid. The smaller male was looking away. I couldn't help but let my gaze return to the tall dark male, and his well hung genitals. He excited me.

An alcohol swab was used on my wounds; it stung horribly and I whimpered as Jason held my head lovingly. When the alcohol swabs were done, I lay my head on Jason's shoulder and felt the comfort of my owner after the punishment. The other ponies were led away, most in different directions. I assumed they would continue their work or training.

My arms were reinserted into the armbinder, not quite so tightly this time. The waist harness was removed, but Jon retrieved a strange looking head harness that slid over the top of my head and buckled in back. The harness included a gag, or should I say a bit such as a horse might have. The single rod ran across my open mouth and pulled back tightly. I could feel the strange grin it forced on my face. It was covered with a soft leather and biting down on it felt good.

Last, two small bells were clamped onto my nipples. My nipples have been clamped many times before, but never outside, and never with bells that rang whenever I moved. It was embarrassing, to say the least, and painful as the clamps were large and tight.

The head harness had a long leather strap and this was used to lead me across the yard to a large circular corral. I waddled slightly while walking, due to the large butt plug and tail, but had no trouble keeping up. Jon pulled me into the center of the corral and with quick slaps of his riding crop he urged me to start walking in circles. Jason leaned against the fence and watched as Jon used the crop extensively to guide my walk. My ass and the backs of my thighs began to burn from the constant stings.

"Legs up, girl! Knees high!" Jon kept talking to me as I begin trotting around the corral. The bright morning sun felt like it was beginning to burn my skin, and I was sweating from exertion, but I kept going, working on my stance and my stride, trying to understand how to walk and how to please Jon, if for no other reason than to stop the stinging slaps from the crop.

"That's it, now you see!" Jon's commands began to shift to approval as I worked hard to make my trotting gait precise, high kneed, and smooth. Jason was observing with approval. I was proud of my body, and proud to be seen by Jason in this place. The more I succeeded in the training, the better I felt.

"Now, a nice run!" Jon took a whip from his belt and snapped it loudly just behind my ass. I felt the air swoosh by, but no sting; Jon was very precise and meant the crack of the whip as an encouragement, or a warning. I immediately began to run around the corral. My breasts bounced, my hair swung against my shoulders and back, and I began panting. Another crack from the whip and I felt a sharp sting on my left thigh which urged me on. I ran faster, as fast as I could with my arms still bound behind me.

Just when I thought I would collapse from exhaustion, Jon pulled back on my lead and slowed me down. My breath was coming in ragged gasps around my bit, which I was gripping with my teeth. I realized that the bit helped a little; being able to bite down on something helped with the pain from the whip and the concentration while running. When I finally stopped, I leaned over against the railing of the corral, trying to recover.

"Good girl, not bad for your first day." Jon was stroking my hair and then began sponging off my sweat soaked body with a large water soaked sponge. It felt fantastic, and I held still as he wiped my entire body down. The bit made me drool, and he wiped my face down as well.




Later that day, I had been taught the basics of how to walk, trot, and run in style. I was getting a feel for how a good pony trainer communicated his desires. A little jerk or flip of the lead, a quick sound, all could direct me to slow, speed up, or stop. The better I became at obedience and correct style, the happier I was. It was a good day, and I was succeeding at learning how to be a good pony girl. Jason looked pleased as well, which made me very happy.

In the late afternoon we were joined by one of the other trainers and the tall brunette female pony. She was dusty, the sweat having mixed with dirt on her flesh. Still, I could see her better close up and realized she had an incredible, strong body. Slightly taller than I, she walked with a straight back and prideful gait that made me envious. I found myself wanting to be like her, and perhaps even being with her, touching her amazing body. I wondered if the ponies were ever stabled together.

Jon began the two of us with a walk. He urged me to keep up with the other pony. The painful licks of the whip against my ass were not shared with the other pony; apparently I was the less experienced girl and would need to keep up. I matched her gait as well as possible, and after a bit Jon shifted us to trot.

As the other pony and I began to trot around the corral I began to feel an exhilaration I had never experienced. The two of us were perfect female specimens. We moved together precisely, our legs rising and falling together. We looked similar, with our long flowing brunette hair. Our bodies were both lean and strong, though the other pony's body was clearly more muscular than mine. I felt a sort of oneness with her, as if we were a single organism.

The longer we exercised and trained together, the happier I was. I hardly ever was struck by the whip or crop now, and Jason's approval made me so happy. When we were finally slowed to a walk and then a stop, I found myself wanting to stand next to the other pony, to smell her body, touch her flesh, return to her stall, and simply be ponies together.

Her name was Kerry; I knew this because the trainer had called her name several times. I felt my attention and desire pulled toward her as her trainer rubbed her down, using a sponge to cool her hot flesh and clean her. I followed the hands and water as they smoothed over her velvety skin, lifting soft breasts, water trickling down her stomach and between her legs. I hardly noticed Jon doing the same to my own body.

The sun was going down and we were returned to the barn. Kerry was returned to a different stall. Disappointment rippled inside me, though I was exhausted from the day and welcomed the chance to be in the stall and rest. The head harness and bit were removed and hung from a hook on the wall of my stall.

Food was available in my trough and I immediately ate. I was ravenous. It wasn't Cheerios this time, it was some other sort of cereal mixed with some apples; the sweetness was wonderful and I gulped it all down, licking the sides of the trough to make sure I had all of it. I then plunged my face into the water trough and drank deeply.

When I was done, the stable hand that I hated was standing behind me. He grabbed me, pushed me over to the wall and grabbed my tail. He yanked it out, hard, and I screamed with pain as my anus was torn. He laughed a bit and then left the stall.

I needed to poop, but my anus was hurting badly from the tail removal. I huddled in the corner for a while, crying. The hay had been cleaned out during the day and replaced with fresh hay. I peed. I tried pooping, and got a little out before it began to hurt too much. I curled up for a while, and then tried to poop again, getting a little more out. That stable hand was a sadist and there was nothing I could do about it.

When he returned with my tail, I cowered in the corner. He grabbed the leather lead and pulled me out, shoving me over into a bent position. He tied a rope through a ring in my armbinder and then threaded it through a ring in the wall of the stall. He pulled, and up my arms rose in back, forcing me over into a bent position. He kicked my legs apart with his heavy boots and then began dry humping me once again. I felt his hard cock through his jeans as he pushed and rubbed as hard as he could; it was as if he was trying to climax but couldn't.

Then the worst happened. He unzipped. He couldn't get off enough just dry humping, he needed more direct contact. Grabbing my hips he pulled me toward him. My arms were raised high up behind me, restricting movement, but I tried my best to wriggle away. He hung on and started rubbing his exposed cock against my buttocks and between my thighs.

I started to scream and I continued wriggling. He pushed harder, not entering me but getting very close. His pumping action was becoming faster but he didn't like my screaming; he clamped one hand over my mouth and muffled my cries. My screams were no longer very loud, but with only one hand on my hips he couldn't hold on to me very effectively and I was able to wriggle away. His hand slipped from my mouth back to my hips and I felt him get ready to enter me...

He stopped suddenly. I wasn't sure why until I heard the stall door open; he had heard someone come into the barn. Jon entered and stood observing the scene. "Fucking the animals, Michael?"

The stable hand withdrew and pulled his pants back up. "She was askin for it," he mumbled pitifully.

"Right. She was strapped up helpless and screaming; asking for it. You know better than that. She has an owner, and it isn't you. Using another man's pony for your own... it just isn't allowed. Pack your stuff and get out."

The stable hand stumbled out of the stall and that was the last I saw of him. Jon unstrapped my arms, and asked, "did he get inside?"

I shook my head.

"Good. It is up to Jason if another pony or someone else can use his pet. You can settle down for the night. It won't happen again. I brought a blanket for you." He threw a coarse blanket on the straw, then picked up my tail, which had fallen on the straw. He gently spread my ass cheeks. This time the plug went in smoothly; my sphincter was getting used to it and took it well. Especially as it wasn't being rammed in.

Jon left, and after calming myself some more and slurping some more water I lay on my side, kicked the blanket over me, and slept.




A new stable hand arrived the next day and did a much better job; he fed and watered me, cleaned my stall and put down new hay, and even folded my blanket. I could tell he was attracted to me but kept looking away, as if he was afraid to let his eyes roam over my naked body. He did remove my tail, and allowed me some time to defecate. My anus had become sore from constantly wearing the plug and I grunted and cried a little. The stable hand had me lean over and inspected my ass carefully.

I still wasn't used to letting strangers paw me, but I stood still has his fingers spread my ass cheeks and probed my sensitive anus. I yelped and whined a little when his fingers pressed on the raw and bleeding parts. His response was kind; he produced some lotion which when on smoothly and acted as a healing salve as well as a lube for the plug when he pushed it back in. All in all, I looked at him gratefully when he left. A good stable hand can make a big difference in the quality of life for a pony girl.

Jon arrived soon after the stable hand left, and proceeded to belt me into my harnesses. My arms were still bound behind me and he added leather harnesses around my breasts, chest, and hips. My hair was brushed thoroughly and then tied back. A head harness with a bit was added, and I was proud to see that this one was decorated with feathers, though it also had blinders. I could look directly ahead, but not to the side. The bit was pulled back, deep into my mouth once again. It felt comforting to be able to bite into it, though I felt myself begin to drool soon after it was inserted.

With a little geeup noise, Jon had me prancing out of the barn and joining Kerry out in the barnyard. She was adorned in the same leather trappings as I, and I found myself staring at her beauty. She carried herself straight and tall and proud, standing obediently. Seeing this, I raised my head and straightened my back, attempting to match her proud stance.

Once Jason joined us, Jon began putting Kerry and I through our paces. We walked, trotted, pranced. We perfected our simultaneous movement, silently following each other. The whip licked my ass or back on occasion, but not as much as the day before. I was getting better, and Kerry was helping me.

It was hot and I was sweating. We were led to a large water trough, and allowed to bend over and immerse our faces, sucking up water.

Jon was satisfied in the afternoon, and suggested that I be fitted for horse shoes. Jason agreed. I had no idea what this might mean; so far I had been barefoot (and had some cuts and sore spots even though the yard and corral had been soft dirt).

When the pony shoes came, they turned out to be leather boots that came up to just below my knees. They had heavy metal soles in the inverted U shape of a horse shoe. When I put them on, my heels were pushed up as if I was wearing high heels, but the base of the boot was heavy and sturdy, not like heels at all. I pushed and kicked with the new boots, kicking dirt up and getting the feel of them. My feet felt heavy, but I also felt like I could go anywhere and do anything.


A stinging slice of the whip across my back got my attention and I stood still. "Keep those feet still. No kicking up dirt there!" Jon demanded.

I practiced walking, trotting, even running in the new boots. It was difficult at first but I quickly got the hang of lifting my legs and keeping my feet high so as not to trip or drag my hooves.

Finally, Jon told Jason I was ready to be put to work.

A different harness was used, a rougher one that was designed with heavy wide straps that fit across my chest and hips. My arms were kept behind me, but no longer in the armbinder. This allowed room for my elbows to flex, which helped me when pulling. I wore the heavy horse shoe boots, which were necessary, as Kerry and I were led across a rough field to an area where some brush and trees had been cleared.

A cart filled with wood and debris from the clearing stood waiting. Kerry and I were placed in front of the cart next to each other while heavy ropes were attached to our harnesses. When all was ready, there was a loud crack of a whip and the two of us started pulling the cart.

At first, it didn't budge. I strained and heaved, feeling the leather straps biting into my naked flesh. I could hear Kerry next to me grunting with effort as well. I couldn't see her because the blinders on my head harness prevented any peripheral vision, but I could feel her pulling along with me. Another crack of the whip that was accompanied by a searing sting across my ass got me pulling harder than I thought was possible. Just when I thought I would strain a muscle the cart suddenly lurched free and began bumpily rolling forward.

For the rest of the day Kerry and I pulled the cart filled with rocks, wood and other debris out of the field where it was dumped in a hollow. We then returned with the empty cart, waited for it to be loaded, and then pulled it back once again. It was by far the hardest work I had ever done, but Jon and Jason took good care of Kerry and myself. We were watered frequently, and our filthy bodies wiped down every hour or so.

Perhaps the hardest part of the day was getting used to urinating. At one point when we were waiting as the cart was filled, I felt Kerry spread her legs and then heard the splash of liquid. It reminded me of how badly I needed to go, and I remembered the instructions when I arrived. I could urinate at any time. Spreading my legs I tried to let go of my bladder. It didn't want to cooperate at first; outside in the field with workers watching my naked body, I was simply intimidated and shy. But after a while, the need overcame my shyness. I attempted it again and this time was rewarded by letting loose of a steady stream of urine that seemed to go on forever. It felt wonderful to be empty and from then on I had no trouble peeing anyplace, anytime.

At the end of the day Kerry and I were untied from the cart and led back to the barn. I was exhausted and thought I would collapse as soon as we arrived in my stall. It felt good being in the barn, to rest and feed.

Both Kerry and I were led into my stall. Oat cereal was there for us, with some apples and berries. It was such a treat, and Kerry and I shared the trough. She ate ravenously, wolfing down the food quickly. When we had cleared the food and drunk our fill of water, a stable hand came in and removed our tails.

I watched Kerry bend over and expose herself so she could be de-tailed. I saw her relax her sphincter muscles as the stable hand wiggled the plug, and then her anus suddenly expanded wider than I ever thought possible. Her plug came out suddenly, sliding out as her anus closed around the tapered end. Once again, I observed her body more closely, and became envious of her lean, solid frame and muscular legs. She was gorgeous. A perfect pony.

I bent over and while my plug was being removed I heard Kerry relieving herself in the corner of the stall. After my somewhat slower and more painful de-tailing, I went to the same spot and also relieved myself. My lower abdomen felt such relief and I began to feel better from the work of the day.

The two of us had our horse shoes removed and then were given a bath, water dumped over us and then wiped down thoroughly. As Kerry received her bath, I watched every portion of her body as strong hands rubbed her down with cloths. I caught her looking at me once or twice as the stable boy cleaned me, taking special care to clean between my legs and ass cheeks.

As grateful as I was to be cared for, it was something of a relief when the stable boy replaced our tails and then left us alone. As soon as he left, I lay down on the clean straw. Kerry moved over and lay down next to me. It was cool now, the sun was down and the temperature was dropping. Her body heat pleased me.

I opened my mouth to speak to her but her eyes flashed a moment of fear as she shook her head. Instead she lay down next to me, spooning my body. I pressed backward against her, my tail pushing back against her hips. She raised one leg over mine, opening and exposing her pussy. My tail slid back and we snuggled together as best we could with our hands still secured behind our backs. After a little while I realized that Kerry was slowly rocking her hips against my ass, and my tail. The base of my tail was pressing against her pussy and she was slowly masturbating. I pushed back against her to help, keeping up with her rocking motion. She gasped and leaned forward to nuzzle my neck, and action that made me hot, aroused, lustful. I pushed and rocked with her as she pressed harder and harder and then quietly moaned and shuddered with orgasm.

It felt so good to feel Kerry's breasts on my back, her leg over mine and her hips rocking together with mine. I wanted to get on my knees and spread my legs and let her fuck me, but instead I rolled over and kissed her deeply. She returned the kiss and we lay together, allowing our tongues to play for a while.

With a quirky grin, Kerry slid down my body, stopping briefly at my breasts to suckle my nipples. I lay on my back, hips rotated up so that my tail lay flat and didn't jam up into my rectum. As she slid further, I spread my legs in anticipation of her arrival at my own pussy.

She was amazing. Her tongue flicked my clit, teased me at first and then sucking me into her mouth. Her lips slid over my most sensitive outer parts as her tongue plunged deep. My hips raised high to meet her and it took very little time before I felt my own climax spreading. I moaned loudly, speaking no words but making my desire, my passion for this female known. My legs were shaking, weak from the day's work but I kept my hips raised until I was spent. I then collapsed.

Kerry and I slept together, spooning and snuggling all night. She had become my ideal, the pony I aspired to be, the partner I wanted.




The next day Kerry and I performed together, training more in the corral and then hauling debris and doing other work around the farm. It was in the late afternoon that I observed an interesting interaction which surprised me greatly. I had just been led back to the barnyard and had my leather reigns tied to a ring on a fence near the corral, which was in use.

The corral was being used to do some intense training of the tall dark haired male pony I had observed before. As he pranced around the circular area I found myself staring at his lean naked body, and had my attention once again drawn to his well hung genitals. The shorter blond female pony was tied up to the side of the corral, observing the male's training, which ended soon after. The male was left to wander about for a while as the trainer talked with a tall woman standing just outside the fence, whom I took to be the male's owner.

As I watched, the short blond pony turned and leaned over the fence slightly, bracing her stomach against the wood and spreading her legs slightly. She remained there, and did not move. The male noticed her in this position and began to slowly move to where she stood, exposing her pussy for him. His cock was growing as he moved and by the time he positioned himself behind the female pony it was fully erect. He was truly well endowed, and I looked with envy as he moved his hips into position and began a slow pressing motion between the female's legs.

The trainers and owners at the other side of the corral took no notice of the sexual activity of the ponies. The male pony had slipped inside the blond pony and was pushing to get in deeper. The female was arching her back and thrusting backwards, encouraging his deep entry. In moments they were rhythmically fucking, banging hips together as Kerry and I watched. Kerry nuzzled my neck in a sort of intimate gesture as we watched, and I nuzzled back. It felt incredibly odd watching the two ponies engaged in intercourse so casually and in the open, but I was also aroused and Kerry was heating me up even more as she rubbed her body against mine and nuzzled my neck.

Eventually, the noise produced by the two ponies in the corral drew the attention of the owner and trainer. Rather than interfering, they looked on with mild interest, discussing something between themselves. A final loud grunt from the male and moan from the female announced the end of their activity, and as the male slipped out of her he nuzzled her lovingly. At the same time I felt Kerry nuzzling me and turned to her. I nuzzled her back; I wanted to wrap my arms around her I was so aroused and attracted but both her wrists and mine were still bound behind us. Apparently, the nuzzling act was a sexual approach between ponies that I was learning.

It took only a minute before I was down on my knees and burying my face between Kerry's legs. My tongue sought out her soft folds of flesh as she spread her legs and thrust her hips forward to help me service her. My nose rubbed her clit, my tongue buried deep inside her and I was gratified to hear her gasp and moan softly. She tasted beautiful, better than any woman I had ever been with, and I pushed to delve as deeply into her as I could. Her hips began thrusting and rotating up and down, encouraging more movement, which I gave her gladly.

I was so happy, so involved, that when Kerry orgasmed it came as a surprise. I could have knelt there all day, simply drinking in that pony's sex. But the climax came, and when it was over I stood and suddenly realized that the two ponies in the corral and the owner and trainer had been watching us. I flushed bright red with embarrassment, and moved behind Kerry to hide myself. Kerry seemed undisturbed, and eventually I stopped hiding. I nuzzled Kerry, letting her know exactly how much I appreciated her companionship.




For several days I was paired with Kerry and trained with her. My back was initially sore from the periodic stings of a whip or riding crop, but as I learned how to behave it became easier to avoid such encouragements. I could feel myself becoming stronger, as well. Kerry's body was so lean and strong that I had concluded she was the perfect pony, and the perfect woman. I looked to her as my model in everything, and enjoyed sleeping with and making love to her each evening. When our hands were not in armbinders, we spooned and the spoonee would user her hands to stimulate the spooner. When we were in binders and unable to use our hands, we used our tongues and any other part of our body we could to bring pleasure to each other.

The day came when I was led off alone. Kerry was left behind and I felt empty and incomplete without her. I was led to the other side of the barn where a small cart or trap was resting on the ground. The trap was a small, two wheeled vehicle with a single seat for a passenger. It had two long poles extending out from it. I was positioned between these poles. I had seen them in use before, and knew basically what to do.

The harness for the trap was elaborate, partly because it was decorated and ornate. The headgear that was placed on me included feathers and blinders, as well as the usual bit. Straps were placed around (but not covering) my breasts, and a heavy corset was added. Below, a waist strap was added to assist in attaching and pulling the cart. Reigns were added, running from either side of my headgear behind me to the trap.

When I was completely harnessed and ready, Jason arrived and climbed into the cart behind. I felt the reigns shake slightly and Jason made a knickering noise. I pulled and began moving forward.

Keeping a steady motion moving forward was difficult, and I knew I was jerking the cart both side to side and forward and backward. Jason was very kind with the whip but eventually I felt its stinging lash cut across my bare flesh as he reminded me to keep a steady forward movement. He pulled the reigns and guided me as I pulled him around the road that surrounded the farm. We must have traveled almost three miles on dirt roads when we arrived back at the barn.

I was exhausted. My back stung from the frequent urgings of the whip, and my legs were shaking from tiredness. It had not been bad starting out, but eventually my muscles had started burning and pulling became harder and harder, prompting Jason to urge me on with the whip. I knew I had a criss cross of red welts across my back and ass.

Jon came out and joined Jason as he unhooked me. They spoke of something as they unharnessed me from the rig and also from the more decorative parts of the harness. I overheard enough that it seemed that Jason was pleased with my performance which made me glow with happiness. But then I heard something about a punishment and began to cry from fear. I had tried so hard it didn't seem possible that I was going to be punished.

I cried quietly, tears running down my cheeks as Jason led me through the barn and out into the large barnyard. All the ponies were there, and we joined them standing, looking at the whipping cross at the side of the yard. Attached to the cross with chains was the smaller, blond male pony that I had seen my first day at the farm. With sudden relief I realized that the male was to be punished, not me. He was breathing heavily and sobbing audibly. It seemed strange to me that he should be crying before the whip even stung him.

A tall woman wearing jeans, cowboy boots and a heavy denim shirt stepped up behind him and wielded the whip. Though she appeared to be about 40 years old, she was gorgeous. Long ebony black hair shown in the sun, her jeans were tight around her ass and a flat stomach enhanced the look of breasts that pushed her shirt out above. She cracked the whip once to get the feel and heft, and the male cried out and shook.

"Please, Mistress Sonja, I have done all you asked! I am your good slave and wish nothing but your pleasure, don't whip me! I have done nothing! Please!!!" The male broke into a sudden pleading that surprised and shocked me. I had been without speech and amongst other ponies that did not speak for so long that I was literally offended to her the weak male begging like that. It turned my stomach that a supposedly devoted slave would break silence and insult his Mistress by protesting his innocence.

The woman leaned over and spoke in the pony's ear quietly. Whatever she said made him wail and cry as she stepped back from him and pulled back on the whip. She let it fly with an expert hand. It stroked across the male's back and wrapped around the cross, licking his sides as it struck. She yanked quickly, causing the whip to drag back across the wounds it had just cut into the flesh.

The wimpy male pony screamed from the pain of the first stroke. I noted this whip was no flogger, it was a 9 foot long bullwhip. As it whistled through the air and sliced across the back of the pony again, I averted my eyes and looked up at Kerry, who stood next to me. Kerry was staring at the spectacle with a strange look that I think was satisfaction. The screams continued, accompanied by the crack of the whip, and Kerry leaned down to me and nuzzled me kindly. I kissed her back, and then we both turned to watch the whipping continue.

When it was over, the male pony was slumped down, hanging from the chains that held his wrists aloft. He was unchained and fell to the ground, sobbing. Bloody streaks criss crossed his back. I felt sorry for him, but also felt glad that it was not me laying on the ground. I also felt a twinge of pride that I had not needed to be punished; I was obedient, a good pony and slave for my owner. I was satisfied.




The days moved on, alternating periods of training with work of various sorts, until one day I was led to the back of the barn and observed there were four traps; four carts waiting to be hooked up and be drawn by ponies. Jason was there and harnessed me with solid, decorative leather. The other ponies were also brought out and harnessed. The owners of all four of us were there, and took their positions in the seats of the traps.

I felt good. I felt strong. It felt good to have Jason behind me again, guiding and urging me on. We rode out to the road which circled the farm, and then all lined up together, facing down the road. It was at this point that I realized what was happening.

It was a race.

Jon positioned himself by the side of the road and waited a moment before taking a starter's pistol out and firing it. As soon as it cracked, Jason shook my reigns and we were off, gaining speed. I worked hard, pulling as fast as I could. Kerry was in front of me, as was the tall hardbody male that was so well hung. The other female was neck and neck with me, though my blinders kept me from seeing her. Jason cracked the whip without letting it touch me, urging me on.

I could tell I was pulling away from the other female, the blond that had fucked the large male. As we entered the first turn I cut closer to the edge, trying to gain on the tall male. I got closer, but his owner slapped him with the whip and he suddenly moved forward again. Jason was being kind, he didn't use the whip on my back; he could see I was motivated to all I could to win.

As we entered the second turn, the tall male in front of me suddenly caught a stone under his foot and lost momentum for a moment. It was all I needed, and with a burst of effort I was able to pass him. His owner started whipping him mercilessly, but I had gained the momentum and maintained my place just short of Kerry. Kerry was moving with a long, practiced stride, her breasts bouncing slightly, her flesh a shiny sheen from sweat. I could not help but see her adoringly.

I realized at that moment that I had fallen in love with Kerry, and that she was everything I had ever wanted in a female partner, mate, playmate, coworker... I also realized I wanted to pass her and win, very, very badly. I pushed hard and gained a little.

We went into a third turn and ahead of us was Jon, standing with a finish flag. We were on the last straightaway, and as hard as I tried, I could not gain on Kerry. She was just out of sight to my left, behind the point where I could see her past my blinders. As we approached the finish line, I felt the stinging slice of Jason's whip across my shoulders. I gave one last burst of speed as we crossed the finish line and Jon waved the flag.

After the race, all the ponies were unharnessed and rubbed down my stable boys. I was washed with water, massaged and my hair brushed. My pussy hair, which was shaved when we arrived but had grown out, was brushed gently. My tail was brushed. When I was done, watered and rested, we were brought to the corral and saw the owners laughing and exchanging money. Apparently, there had been bets as to who would win.

Kerry came over and I did not understand why she looked so sad. She rubbed against me, nuzzling and kissing me. I nuzzled and kissed back. She looked good, her hair and tail had been brushed like mine, all the dirt and grime washed off, and her skin looked healthy and smooth. Looking at her standing there, hands strapped behind her back, breasts thrust outward, tall and straight, a beautiful piny girl, I felt the rush of adoration. I pressed against her, my cheek on her bare breast. She was crying softly, and I could not ask why.




The next day my tail was removed, all harnesses and restraints taken off. I was given a meal of meat and vegetables and fruit. When I was done, Jason came and told me to follow him. I did, and he led me to his car. On the hood were clothes.

"Put on your clothes," Jason said.

I looked at him questioningly. I didn't understand.

"Go ahead. We are going home. Vacation is over. Oh, and you may speak now."

I reached forward and handled a pair of panties. I knew what they were for, but it seemed like years since I had worn clothing and I found I didn't want to put them on.

"Siobhan. Put on your clothes. You have been an excellent pony girl, but it is time to go home now."

I obeyed, and stepped into the panties. They felt extremely strange. I turned to Jason and willed myself to speak, however unnatural it felt.

"Jason... This doesn't feel right. This has become my home."

Jason smiled at me. "Yes, you really have grown. I had no idea when we came here just how well you would adapt. You are a born pony girl. Perhaps we can return some time."

As I put on a bra (a most distasteful and uncomfortable feeling), I thought about home.

"Yes, Jason." As the jeans went on and then a top, I began to cry.

"What's the matter Siobhan? You have done well. You are stronger, more obedient. You are going to be a better wife and slave for this experience. It has been good, hasn't it?"

I turned to him, dressed except for my shoes, which I could not bring myself to put on.

"Yes, Jason. But... tell me. Where does Kerry live? Will we be able to see her again? She and I... well, we have become close."

"I saw that, Siobhan. I enjoyed watching the two of you. Remember, she is owned by another, and you are owned by me. She is a dedicated pony, all the time, her owner brings her here periodically, but she lives in another part of the country. Some day, you may be able to see her again."

We got in the car and as we drove down the road on which I had raced against Kerry just the day before, tears rolled down my cheeks.


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