A Rough Ride: Pony Girl Training in Latex and Leather (25 page)

When the door to Petal's cell creaked open he was immediately surprised to find the room was in darkness. He'd left the light on intentionally; to make sure she didn't get any shut-eye and would be suffering the torments of sleep deprivation today. Looking up to the wall where she should have been chained standing up, he found... nothing.

The Dungeon Master

It was as if she'd never been there. No indentation of her body in the hay, no soft snores, no rustling and no Petal. How the hell had she managed to escape? Opening the door fully and peering around the back of it confirmed there wasn't a soul anywhere in sight. His face creased in puzzlement. What the hell had happened here? His eyes then widened in shock as they found a pair of metal horseshoes flying towards his face with frightening speed.

Somehow he managed to avoid one but the other caught him hard across the side of his face, sending him flat on his backside and sprawling in the dirt. The black rippling bodysuit of his pony-girl jumped down from the metal restraints embedded in the wall and she didn't give him a second glance as she sprinted towards the barn door. There was no one in there to stop her, either. They'd all left hours ago for their breakfast spanking sessions and various different training regimes.

Kyle swore, got to his feet and started sprinting. She wouldn't get far. Bursting out of the barn door and listening to the slam as it closed behind him, his eyes searched left and right as they scanned the area. He found her running towards the training block. Of course. She would know the hotel was tacked on to the end of it, if she could just manage to get her ass through the whole of that very long corridor. Seeing as they were headed that way anyway and the fact that he'd never seen her so enthusiastic about exercise, he decided to let her have a little fun. With his long legs he wouldn't need to run that fast in order to keep her in his sights, and she'd be on vapours anyway, having not had any decent food in the past twenty-four hours.

Thankfully there was no one about to watch his errant pony as she stumbled and skidded her way over the cobblestones towards the grey concrete corridor that she thought would lead to her rescue. As soon as her booted feet set themselves inside the building he let his fingers close around the remote control in his jeans pocket and depressed a single button. She fell to the floor instantly, and he kept his finger firmly upon the button that would deliver her compliance.

'Feel that, do we?' Kyle was furious. He had a bump on his face the size of an egg and wasn't that going to look oh-so-gorgeous this evening on his date? Isabelle would probably take one look at him and run screaming. Clenching his jaw, as well as both fists, it took him a few seconds to calm the burning rage that threatened to engulf him. Before he did something he'd later regret he managed to prise his finger off the maximum current 'shock' button and bark out one order. 'Down those stairs!'

Jenny did not need to be told twice. Though the current that had flooded her body was debilitating in the extreme, when she saw the look of fury on his face she managed to battle through the pain of twisted limbs and misfiring circuits to practically throw herself down the stone steps to the entrance of Albrecht's dungeon. Kneeling at the foot of the giant cast iron door she kept her eyes downcast and stifled the sobs that threatened to spill through her gag. She knew without a doubt that her experience in the room beyond was not going to be pleasant. Hearing the footfalls of her trainer slam into the stone, she closed her eyes and wondered what had possessed her to try and escape. Even if she had made it to the hotel she'd have never got past the staff situated all around her. It was a losing battle, but she'd come to accept the fact that the opportunities for escape were going to be so rare she would have to seize them with both hands if and when they presented themselves. As she'd already been due a visit to the dungeon, it hardly mattered that her attempt had failed.

The footsteps got louder and louder until they nearly deafened her, sounding like an elephant stampede, when in reality it was just one man with a pair of ordinary-sized feet. Well, slightly bigger than average feet, but it mattered not. When the crocodile-skin boots came to rest beside her prone form, she shivered.

'We're going to have some fun, you and I,' was all he said as he picked up the chain attached to her leash and dragged her forward.

Jenny's knees scraped along the concrete floor, but she barely noticed. Her eyes darted left to right, examining all the torturous devices and torments the room offered. The dungeon's vast floor space seemed to shrink in an instant and the room closed in around her. For some reason she had not noticed the size of the room on her introductory visit with Mark. Probably because he tended to send her hormones skittering into realms unknown and the last thing on her mind was how big the surrounding area was. Mr Nasty had her thinking about sex, and pretty much nothing else. The cowboy, on the other hand, had her scared witless, although sex was never very far from her mind in this place. Especially when dressed in the suit from hell. Only a few more hours and she would be released from its relentless grip. She was now at the stage where she would have begged, pleaded and traded vital body parts with the devil in order to be allowed an orgasm. The suit was kicking in at intervals of five minutes or less, and her pussy and ass clenched ceaselessly around their fat dildos in a state of absolute misery.

'Up on the spanking horse, P.' Kyle gestured towards the leather padded bench. She obeyed unthinkingly. Score one for Albrecht. Where had her feisty, fiery nature disappeared to? Had they knocked all the stuffing out of her already? Oh God, how many days had she been here now? Panic caused her to scuff the toe of her right boot against the rough floor and she nearly threw herself on top of the thin wooden rail, arms flailing either side of it. Her face darted up to discover Kyle's eyes were on her with a mad, incensed gleam and as he fingered the livid red mark that had sprung up in a semicircle just above his left eye, she had cause to wonder whether she would make it out of the cold room alive.

Deep breaths, Redcliff, she told herself firmly. You are made of sterner stuff than this. They will not break you.

These thoughts were all very well but it didn't change the fact that there was a maniac in front of her thumbing his way through the dungeon's library of books and none of them looked particularly appealing.

Picking up a heavy, vellum-bound title from one of the top shelves of the mahogany bookcase, Kyle waved it before her face. 'Sensory deprivation sounds good for starters.' He twisted his head and cracked his neck. 'We'll plug those little ears and blindfold you. You'll be helpless, mewling and probably bawling like a baby after I tie those cuffs around your wrists and ankles. Gagged as you are, I could leave you in here for days and no one would know. I hold that kind of power over you, P. If I want you to rot, I'll find a nice quiet corner, immobilise you and leave you to suffer the torments of inactivity. That's one idea.'

He tossed the volume aside and picked up another, bearing a brightly coloured jacket which read
Figging and Salves for Ponies
. She'd seen that one before and couldn't help a shudder. 'Shame we can't have some fun with chilli oil or hot liniment pasted inside those disobedient little holes of yours. I bet they would get you trotting your luggage around the track in double-quick time. I'll put that on our list for tomorrow I think, along with a spot of figging. You won't enjoy having that ass spanked anywhere near as much if I shove a generous portion of ginger in there to spice things up. We could make it part of your morning routine, along with an ass fuck straight after.' He gave her a cruel smile. 'Pity we can't do it now, but you're an annoying anal virgin, so we'll have to wait until that's been taken care of.'

Jenny could not believe she was relieved to have all her holes filled and locked up tight, but it appeared there were definite advantages to wearing makeshift chastity belt.

Kyle hummed as he made his way from one tome to the next. He was obviously enjoying himself and why wouldn't he be, with his favourite subject of torture close to hand. Jenny wondered what the possibilities of being rescued in the next ten minutes actually were. One in a hundred? One in ten thousand? One in a bloody million? It was probably closer to the mark now she knew who ran the ship. You did not cross her father. Not if you valued your life.

'Ah, how about, Abrasion Play?' Kyle sounded relatively excited at the prospect and as far as Jenny was concerned, that did not bode well. 'Yes, that will do for starters. I think I'll rip open that latex suit of yours and do some engraving on your back. After we're finished with that I'll give you a good flogging in the Objectifier and then practice my aim with the bullwhip. We'll see how much of a pain-slut you are after I've finished with you.' He scowled as she returned his gaze unflinchingly. 'Eyes to the floor, P. Ponies do not retain eye contact with their Masters. You're so green it's shocking. Let's take care of that first, shall we? You've already soured my milk today, but thankfully there's still room for improvement. That suit unlocks itself in about two hours and boy am I gonna have some fun with you then. Those holes of yours won't know what hit 'em.'

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic packet. Ripping it open with his teeth he took out two pink, cone-shaped objects and rolled them around in his fingertips. 'I think it best if we fit these now. I haven't got anything more to say to you. He pulled the neck seal of her hood wide in his hands and rolled the rubber cones into her ears. Stuffing the wax earplugs in and twisting them in deep with his fingers, he yanked the hood back over her head. She wouldn't be hearing a thing through those and her latex covering. Petal whimpered a bit, her mouth a dribbling mess, but there was little she could do about it. He would take away her sight next, but he wanted her to see a few things first.

Walking around her, his spurs clinking merrily as his heels hit the concrete floor, he fastened each of the four leather cuffs around her ankles and wrists. He took his time about it. Anticipation was the mother of the beast in this room. He then casually strolled about and began picking up the items he would need for his scene: a toothbrush, a blindfold, an emery board, a steel wool scouring pad, a piece of medium-coarse sandpaper, and some mentholated muscle rub. Placing them all on a steel trolley in front of her, one by one, he let her imagination run riot. Her eyes had quickly focused on the odd assortment and it was clear they were not at all happy. Good. Foraging around in his pocket once again, he found a penknife and a one pound coin. Finally he laid down a heavy rubber flogger and his favourite five metre leather bullwhip. That should have her offering prayers upwards, even if none of the others did.

Flicking the steel blade of his knife open and bringing it to her face, he let the sharp edge scrape along the latex of her cheek. Her eyes displayed no fear yet, but they would. He let the blade meander down her face, dragging at her rubber covering. He moved down to her neck and then he curled it backwards, up over her shoulder blades, letting her feel the pin-prick apex of its point as he twirled it along her spine. She shuddered. Smiling to himself he picked up the blackout goggles and attached them around her head by means of a thick elastic strap. He had taken yet another sense from her and she should be feeling pretty apprehensive by now. The tell-tale hard line of her shoulders on the rail spoke volumes. You wait till I've finished with you, he thought. You'll barely be able to move.

He watched as her groin began to pump up and down upon the horse. Perfect. The suit was playing its evil game with her yet again. She groaned in acute frustration, but there was little else she could do to ease her discomfort. There would be a good deal more squirming going on soon, after he'd had his way, but this time it wouldn't be in pleasure. Concentrating on the job in hand he decided the corset would have to go. Shredding the crisscross of laces that decorated her back, he watched as it fell dejectedly on either side of the padded rail beneath her. Someone could re-lace her back into it later and he'd have a word to make sure they tightened it to its fullest potential. There were no slackers in his camp. Refocusing his attention on her back he let the knife begin to score a pattern into the thin fabric. She jumped up in shock as the pressure of the blade made itself known.

That was the beauty of the blindfold; all sensations were heightened and enhanced. Loosening his hold on the knife he began to etch his design. There were soft curves to be drawn, angular lines, and he even managed a near perfect symmetrical triangle. Humming away, almost sorry that she couldn't hear his happiness as he became absorbed in his knife play, it wasn't long before his careful project was completed. All he had to do was tear out a few key pieces of rubber and he could begin stage two, which would be infinitely more fun. It was time to make his design a little more permanent. It was going to be a new addition to her wardrobe and one she would wear for the next few days, because he was going to scour it deep into her skin.

Jenny had plenty of time to examine everything on the trolley, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out what he was up to. A toothbrush? If he wanted to clean her teeth she'd probably offer him a blowjob as a reward. What he wanted with the sandpaper, pot scourer and muscle rub was anyone's guess, but she was reasonably sure she wouldn't like it. When he got out a penknife she felt herself shrinking away from him, remembering the last time Mark had pulled one out on her in the Red Room. When the blade whispered down her cheek she wanted to run, but that wasn't going to happen, so she took deep, calming breaths and told herself that nothing bad was going to happen to her. They wouldn't be allowed to do anything permanent with her, surely?

When the blindfold came down and plunged her eyes into a world of perpetual midnight she wanted to howl. She couldn't move, hear, see or speak and her beautiful sadist held a knife in his hands. Scenarios ran riot through her head. She felt the blade coil upwards, over her shoulder, before it fell back to drag along her spine. Thump, thump, thump. Her heart thundered in panic and breathing was already difficult enough as it was. Suck in air and try to stay calm, she told herself, which was all very well but somewhat difficult when someone was running the sharpest of knife edges down your spine. Lingering over each vertebrae, it teased her with its wicked point before it moved back up between her shoulder blades and began a delicate dance upon her skin.