A Rough Ride: Pony Girl Training in Latex and Leather (20 page)

Jenny suspected it would be anything but, and speaking of butt's, hers prickled in the aftermath of the morning spank. She was already hot and sweaty after the brisk trot outside and they hadn't even started moving yet. If the large fly swatter Kyle held in his hand was any indication, things were going to get a whole lot worse before they got better.

As the arms of the motor began to turn she stared helplessly to the front, and as her bridle yanked her forward, giving her no option but to move, she could barely comprehend what was happening to her. She was being exercised and trained exactly like the horses would be on her father's estate. She would be forced to walk around in a circle until someone saw fit to stop the machine. As her suit began a new frontal attack, with the clitoral stimulator and thrusting dildo's being brought into play, Jenny mewled her frustration through the unforgiving confines of her gag. She pleaded with her eyes, but Kyle's were hard and unforgiving and they did not connect with hers. The man might be drool-drippingly gorgeous but he did not have an ounce of compassion in his body. Stumbling forward, as her body went into orgasm alert mode, his voice rang through the air unkindly.

'Let's get the party started, P. Knee's high in the air and hooves up in a begging position beside those tits. Head up, back straight and feet shoulder-width apart. I want to see a nice gait and I'll be providing some additional encouragement if I don't get it. I said hooves up, P!' His oversized fly swatter took aim at her backside and Jenny nearly ended up hanging off the arm of the walker as she tried to escape the blistering swipe. She propped her hoof mitts up in the air as told and began to lift her knees as high as she could, thankful that the pace of the walker wasn't too fast. It was hard enough just keeping her balance in the preposterous boots; having her heavy plastic hooves dangling up in the air did not help matters.

She watched as Kyle stroked the horse in front of her. He clearly had an affinity for horses that he did not share with the girls. The trainee across from her chose that moment to utter a loud squawk as he lashed out at her. 'Push those tits out, Dew Drop, there's a reason your arms are tied behind you.' The girl hastened to obey.

As the pony-girls continued trotting around their endless circle, Kyle became a little more unpredictable and considerably more spiteful with his blows. A stumble was rewarded with a smack to the back of the upper thighs, knees dropping below waist height earned a swipe across one or both breasts and any errors in regards to posture would provoke one between the legs. Jenny's ass might have been grateful for the respite, but the rest of her body sure as hell wasn't.

'Let me see those hooves paw at the air,' Kyle shouted as his swatter found her rear once more. 'Prance for me, princess. Keep those knees high, and your fore hooves higher.'

Jenny didn't manage to catch the command. Her body was at maximum capacity for pleasure, tightening in anticipation of the mother of all orgasms, when her clit was miserably pinched with a ferocity that took her breath away. She stumbled forward and the hot walker dragged her around by the tips of her boots for a quarter of a circle, her body straining painfully as it was yanked forward by the leading arm. Whilst the walker was relatively forgiving as soon as she had managed to regain her balance, Kyle was not. He sent short, nasty shocks through both of her dildos which caused her to plummet forward once more, but she learnt to recover quickly. The strain of compressing her windpipe against her collar wasn't pleasant, however.

'Hooves in the air, Petal, both sets or I'll work my way through the nastier controls on your suit,
capiche?
' He made his point clear by demonstrating the shock feature of the entire suit, all at once. Jenny gurgled and hit the ground, knees first. Bouncing back up she managed to get to her feet but it was nothing short of luck. Her whole body felt limp, dazed and disorientated. Pawing madly at the air with her hooves, she brought up her knees as high as she could in order to prevent another misdemeanour on her part and the dreaded punishment that would ensue. 'Now that's what I'm talking about, Petal. Much better movement. Keep that up.'

It didn't take long for the ground to become churned and slippery as the horses' heavy hoofs cut up the grass beneath them. Finding herself slithering about on the metal horseshoes, it took all her concentration to keep herself upright and moving forward. When her suit cut off abruptly in the middle of yet another almost-orgasm, she nearly strangled herself with a perilous skid of her hooves and the gurgling, choking sounds she emitted were not pretty as she clung to her balance for dear life.

'A baby hippo at her first ever ballet class would have more grace than your newbie, Levison.'

Kyle had just delivered a rather vicious swat to Petal's inner thigh and the sarcastic comment that came from directly behind his ear made him jump, nearly throwing him off balance. The laugh that followed set his teeth on edge.

'Katrina. Do you have to creep up on people like that?' Kyle cracked his neck and turned to face her, his hands on his hips. 'And aren't you supposed to be on vacation? Can't stay away, huh?'

Ignoring his comment she gave him a splendidly vicious, blinding smile. The only reason she had entered the stables this morning was to rattle his chain. She'd be back home with her feet up in approximately an hour's time, but he didn't need to know that.

'The odds of you getting her to wear the black are about three hundred to one in the stable stakes,' she purred. 'It's laughable that she's the only trainee who hasn't managed to earn her yellow yet, and that's by far the easiest colour to manage. Judging by the enthusiasm in her brisk trot she'll do well to make it to the green.' Katrina compressed her glossy red lips together and gave him a playful look. 'Matthews was the favourite. Why on earth she picked you is beyond me. You're untried, wild, lack experience and have a short attention span. I didn't realise you have yet to prove yourself. You've not managed to qualify even one of your trainees for the coral, yet alone the black collar. Did you know the owner was unaware of your previous history at Albrecht? Now he's had a chance to look through your stats, I've heard he's reconsidering giving the position back to Matthews, to ensure Petal's success.' She watched Kyle's face drop in horror.

Katrina nodded to herself with quiet satisfaction. She had successfully managed to bury the knife deep into what little brain matter Levison possessed. By the looks of him, the knife had come away bloodied. He was all ego. Now faced with the seeds of doubt, liberally scattered all over the ground, he would endeavour to make sure they did not take root, and if Katrina was not much mistaken, he would do that by taking out his frustrations on Miss Redcliff. He was predictable, if nothing else. After her taunts he would put Petal through hell and back to ensure she wore the black in record time, and wouldn't that be just peachy? The filly known as 'P' would be gracing her dungeon before the day was out, Katrina was sure of it. The shame of the matter was that she would not be there to witness it.

Information Overload

The phone's shrill tone drilled a hole inside Mark's head the size of the Grand Canyon, made even worse because it was one of the more ridiculous hours of the morning. He rolled over on his king-sized divan, let his hand search about groggily for the phone and managed, by some amazing piece of luck to hit the right button to accept the call.

'Who the hell is this?' His mouth was bone dry, the after-effects of alcohol no doubt, and he felt a moment of fierce anger. For the first time in ages he had been exhausted enough to sleep soundly. Being rudely awakened from such a rare slumber was not going to induce any friendly conversation on his part.

'Mr Matthews?' The guy on the other end of the phone did not sound at all sure of himself after his abrupt greeting. 'Err, maybe I should ring back later?'

Mark did not give him the chance to put the phone down. 'Now you've successfully woken me up I suggest you get on with the purpose of your call,' he said in a deceptively calm tone that had 'danger' stamped all over it. 'If I find out you're wasting my time I will make it my mission in life to ensure that your life is as miserable as I can possibly make it for the foreseeable future. So talk. Now.'

'Yes Sir. Err, you did say to call you as soon as I found out anything. Immediately, you said.'

'Khalil.' Mark sighed. He hadn't recognised the man's voice through his sleep-filled haze. 'Next time I say "anytime" that does not include the hours between midnight and five a.m.,' he clarified, 'but seeing as you're on the line and I'm awake, you might as well fill me in.'

'Well, I've managed to find out quite a bit. Where should I begin?' Khalil huffed out a breath of air as he considered his question.

'At the beginning?' Mark's answering tone was curt with a touch of sarcasm. Khalil got the message.

'Surprisingly enough, your voice recording was pretty easy to match. Ever heard of a Michael James Geoffrey Redcliff? He's an oil tycoon. Made his money...'

Khalil continued to bring him up to date on the finer points of Mr Redcliff's illustrious career path, but Mark was too stunned at that little snippet of information to take anything more in. Not that it mattered; he was well aware of the way Redcliff had made his fortune. Could this be true? Not only was the man the owner of Albrecht stables, but he had sent his only daughter there to be trained and disciplined as a sex slave? He'd suspected it was Redcliff all along, but to have it confirmed was even more shocking than the initial suspicion. The man was sick. What was this all about - money? If she earned the black she'd be worth a fortune and then he could sell her, but goddamn, even so. He began to pay attention to the conversation once more, but his brain cells were working overtime.

Khalil had got him bra and panty sizes, just as he'd asked, as well as dress and shoe size. He'd also managed to find out a brief life history, details of her education, travel, social life, friends, regular pastimes and fitness regime - or lack thereof. Disappointingly, she did not appear to engage in lesbian sex, but on the plus side she did not spend her weekends in front of the TV. Unfortunately, what she normally did on a Saturday night was a whole lot more unpalatable. He could understand why daddy dearest had become rather annoyed, but the fallout was nothing short of nuclear. Did Redcliff intend to wash his hands of her entirely?

That gave Mark pause for thought. He'd remembered her tears in the surgery as she'd been given over to Levison. At the time he'd thought it was because she had finally come to terms with her predicament. That hadn't been the case at all, had it? She recognised the voice over the loudspeaker; the voice of her father, casually endorsing her life sentence in a world of debauched sexual slavery without a shred of emotion. The poor girl wouldn't have to be overly bright to deduce that all hope of rescue would most probably die with that revelation. Redcliff had the money and resources to bury nearly anyone who stood in his way. Mark's gut clenched at the pain he knew she would be suffering. She would be feeling betrayed and abandoned. She was a strong little brat, but a blow like that would knock her sideways, and being paired with Kyle was a disaster waiting to happen. Having successfully managed to distract himself yet again he snapped to attention when he heard Khalil mention Kyle's name.

'Kyle's history is pretty ugly, I'm afraid. You sure you want to hear this?'

'Oh, I'm sure,' said Mark in a dangerously quiet tone, and decided that if it was anything really unpleasant he was going to scrape out Kyle's innards with a spoon - preferably while he was still alive, but dead was almost as good - stuff him with fluff and mount him on his mantelpiece.

'Levison has been interviewed by the police in connection with more than one crime towards the female sex. The crimes were committed in the US, which might explain his fondness for the UK at the moment. I believe the Feds haven't finished with him yet. He messed up a couple of females pretty badly, and whilst his stand is that they enjoyed that kind of thing, their take on the matter is somewhat different. Both girls signed disclaimers to his "edge play" treatment, but both claim the documents were signed under duress.'

'Are you able to access pictures of what he did?' Mark had his face in his hands and his eyes were closed in disbelief. This was worse, much worse than he'd been anticipating. Sadists were allowed at Albrecht, of course, but they had to know when to draw the line. This idiot clearly didn't. How the hell had he slipped through the net? There should have been checks run on the man, and lots of them, before his foot could even cross the threshold. CRB checks, references, previous training details... something didn't add up.

'Kyle Levison isn't his real name, is it?' Mark tasted the familiar burn of bile in his throat. Jennifer Redcliff was giving him an unwanted addition to antacids, dammit.

So, he had a problem on his hands. A girl had been abducted against her will and given to someone who would immensely enjoy every ounce of torment he could wring out of her. He would not have his trainee's best interests at heart. He would be looking out for himself and his pleasure. Jennifer Redcliff was a firecracker. All she needed to do was light the touch paper and Kyle would go off with a bang. There would be no second chances. If she got injured he'd simply spin some fanciful story. The man appeared to be rather good at it.

'No, we haven't managed to get access to the pictures, although we're still trying. As to your second question, you are indeed correct. His real name is James Miller. He's in the UK with fake documents.' Khalil clucked his tongue on the line, disapprovingly.

Mark wanted to do much more than the odd spot of tongue clucking, but held himself in check. There would be plenty of time for that later. 'So, that means if we could get our hands on him outside the security of Albrecht we could have him deported,' he said thoughtfully.

'Good luck with that,' said Khalil. 'He has a digs on the compound and rarely leaves the base.'