A Rough Ride: Pony Girl Training in Latex and Leather (27 page)

Isabelle opened her mouth and then closed it, turning her head sideways to examine the impressive contusion. As there was really nothing more she wanted to say on the matter she decided to barrel straight on with her original reason for interrupting his session. Clearing her throat delicately she said, 'I was wondering whether you'd mind if we moved our date forward to this afternoon? I've got to go babysit one of the novices in the infirmary this evening.' Isabelle did not glance in the direction of trainee, nor did she stop to admire his handiwork as most of the workers of Albrecht would have. Instead, she blinked her eyes and smiled at him sweetly.

At first he wanted to growl at her that he had plans for the evening and lots of them, but it wouldn't have gotten him any brownie points and there wasn't anything she could do about it. Rules were rules and duty was of paramount importance at Albrecht. Fine, they could work around it.

'I've got a table at that new French restaurant,
L'Colbert
.' I had to pull in a few favours, but they've got a space in a half-hour for us, and we'll just about be able to make it if we leave now.' Isabelle saw Kyle look towards Jenny and frown. She cleared her throat to grab his attention once more. 'What do you think of the leather?' She twirled around and displayed her petite derriere to its best advantage. If that didn't grab and hold his attention, then nothing would. She wiggled it for good measure. Kyle sighed, but it was not a sigh of displeasure. It was a heartfelt sigh of worship and adoration.

'I think that both the leather and its awesome filling are to die for, but I've got a problem. We're in the middle of something here. Any chance you could delay our reservation for another half hour?' Kyle compressed his lips in an almost pleading gesture, which showed just how much he had been enjoying himself with his new novice.

Isabelle shook her head. 'No way, hot shot. That reservation nearly involved the exchange of bodily fluids. We've gotta go. Good news is, I've got you a replacement who's reported to be the meanest thing on two legs. I've already paged him and he'll be on his way down shortly.

For a moment Kyle looked torn between indecision, but he really had no choice in the matter. Giving up a date with Isabelle would be worse than the kind of torture P was currently going through. Of course, he had no real experience with being on the receiving end of such an ordeal, but he guessed it could be likened to such a thing. He winked at her. 'OK. You need to give me two minutes, though. I need to get her ready for her flogging. That all right?'

'Yes, you do your thing, but be quick.' She waved him away and waited by the door. She had no wish to step over the dungeon threshold and she wanted no part of what was going on inside. Tapping her fingers in agitation against the metal doorframe she heard the sound of tearing, followed by a muffled squeal. She couldn't help wincing. As curiosity got the better of her she watched as he dragged Petal across the floor before lifting her up and placing her on the Objectifier. Her head was inserted into a hole at the front of the box and her backside rested proudly in the air. There was a soft 'clunk' as two semi-circular padded blocks were inserted around her neck, making sure her head would remain buried inside the large cube.

'Isabelle, come and have a look at this.' Kyle's beautiful face smiled earnestly at her.

'Umm, I really don't think we have time for this,' said Isabelle, who was beset by nerves for the afternoon ahead and could do without any further distractions.

'Come here,' he cajoled, and his finger beckoned.

As it appeared she wasn't getting out of the place until she'd had a look at his latest victim, Isabelle took a deep breath and cautiously stepped forward. It didn't take her long to discover what had been keeping Kyle so busy. The torn partitions in the latex drew her eye. She held her breath tightly. 'Lovely,' she whispered in what she hoped was a convincing, light-hearted voice. Her expression was horrified and it was just as well she had turned her back on him to view the pony. Wanting to gag, but not daring to make a sound, she simply reached back and gripped Kyle's hand in hers. 'Let's go,' she said, and tugged him forward. 'Someone else can take care of her.'

'Yes,' said Kyle, sighing, and grabbing the blanket he had laid down on the floor he threw it over her. Mainly because he knew it would send his pony into quivers of paroxysms after his earlier threat. 'He can flog her into next year. She needs to learn her place under my fist.' Kyle cocked his head to one side as he debated something. 'Do you think my replacement might take photos for me?'

Isabelle shuddered.

Ange Ou Demon?

Jenny was stupidly grateful for her reprieve, no matter how long it might be. She had passed the moment of maximum endurance and didn't think she could take any more. Like a tall wineglass made of the finest crystal, she now had a crack in her body and there was no question she was going to break. Wriggling her neck around in its tight confines, she grunted as she realised her prison was absolute. She would not get out of this mess in one piece. The wineglass would shatter and smash, and no one would know which piece was which. Becoming annoyed with herself, she tried to refocus her thoughts.

'You can do this,' she whispered to herself, keeping her eyes tightly shut and her body tensed. Stinging, throbbing pain radiated through every pore and ate away at her consciousness and limited reserves of energy. She wondered how much more she had to give. Could she survive a twenty minute flogging after what she had already suffered? She didn't think so, and that was the best case scenario, she suspected.

Seconds ticked by interminably slowly in her dark, sweaty world of fear and trepidation. She wondered if Kyle would come back for her, his earlier threats of abandonment now beginning to take hold, and she also wondered if that might actually be the better option. To be left here and discarded rather than suffer the pain of a beating. Thump. Thump. Thump. Her heart was threatening to explode, growing impossibly large as it boomed each of its beats in her ear. Add that to a dry throat, an aching jaw, tired, stretched limbs and a back that felt like Hannibal Lecter was about dine from it and things were not looking good.

Her thoughts went to Mark. Why had she not picked the one half-sane man in the room? He might have been a bastard, but he at least had a conscience. Well, a quarter of one, perhaps. Right now she would beg to be his house-slave or whatever they were called. A few years crawling around his house would be nothing when compared to a week in Albrecht with Kyle. She would make a deal with the devil himself in order to escape the current mess she was in. Kyle was going to make mincemeat out of her, quite literally, it appeared.

She lost herself then, in a dream world all of her own making. Mark's beautiful blue eyes swimming before hers, his perfect, bow-shaped lips formed in a kissable pout and his fingertips lightly streaming over her flesh.

Odd though it seemed, her dream seemed to take shape and she could have sworn she felt something lightly brush up her right leg. She cursed. She was probably hallucinating. She'd had so little food that even if she wasn't fantasising she was most certainly lightheaded. Concentrate on the daydream, she berated herself before sinking her lips and tongue into Mark's warm mouth and running her fingers through the soft black spikes of his hair. Something trailed up her left leg, imparting the gentlest of pressures, but it was distracting. Was it really coming to the point where she could not control her own thoughts? For a few seconds her mind swam around frantically in a dark void of confusion. Her brain tried to process the phantom movement, to no avail. It continued up her leg and suddenly there was a sharp
thwack
upon her backside. This was no dream. The flogger moved over her ass in a sea of leather tentacles and whilst the soft swings didn't have a lot of power in them, it wouldn't matter when they reached up past her shoulder blades. Could she do this? It must have been the tenth time she had asked herself that question. The flogger increased in intensity and heated her ass cheeks with a warm and pleasant glow. She didn't really appreciate it, as the pain of her back had not subsided, but it was a distraction.

After it'd had its fun with her ass it moved along to the small of her back and began to wreak havoc upon her. The blanket that covered her back itched and scratched as each movement of the flogger jolted it. The pain had not subsided one iota and having a flogger rain down upon her abraded flesh was more than she could endure. It was made worse by the fact that she knew the bullwhip was waiting to begin where the flogger finished. In order to let Kyle know he'd won she screamed and dipped her head, whinnying stupidly through heartfelt sobs. Her whole body had taken on the trembling of a washing machine on maximum spin cycle. She was all over the place; sobbing, screaming, tearing at the metal cuffs and trying to wrench her limbs in half.

'For God's sake stop.'

In her dream the voice was exactly like Mark's. He placed a palm on her back, thankfully below the stinging bits, and stroked her softly, trying to soothe her. It didn't work. She knew what was coming. His hand was too close and her ordeal of being turned into something with even fewer freedoms of the average household pet was more than she could bear. Her struggling intensified.

'Stop, you'll dislocate your arms in a moment.'

There was that voice again. Exactly like his. Her subconscious was really having a whale of a time. There were hands everywhere then, freeing her neck, pulling her head out, unfastening her cuffs and tearing her ball-gag out. A series of distraught, choked hiccups followed as her blindfold was ripped off, and then her hood swiftly followed. He fished inside her ears for the plugs and pulled them both out at once, letting them drop to the floor.

'Look at me. Look at me!'

The man was holding her head between his two hands and shaking it gently to get her attention. It took her a moment to focus her eyes. They widened into the most enormous dinner plates. It
was
Mark Matthews. Oh God. What did that mean exactly? Tears poured down her face as she sobbed out her misery.

'Shhh. Talk to me. What's been going on here?'

He swept his fingers through the short strands of her hair, trying to placate her. He stroked her over and over, murmuring comforting words in her ears, and he let her rest her cheek on his chest. It was a good five minutes before she managed to stem her sobs long enough to try and get a few words out.

'Am I dead?' Jen's voice croaked on a whisper.

'Let's say you are,' said Mark, with a twitch to the corner of his lips. 'Do you consider you've gone to heaven or hell?'

A stray tear leaked out of her left eye and he fished it up with his index finger and sucked it into his mouth.

'I'm not sure,' she said. 'A few minutes ago I would have said hell, and you certainly deserve to be there, but I really shouldn't find you this attractive. Besides, if I am in hell why are you being so nice to me?'

'You're still very much in the land of the living, so quit worrying about your soul. I got rid of Kyle for the afternoon to see how you were getting along.' Mark didn't add that he'd been worried sick about her, after having heard what Kyle was capable of. He'd ditched all of his responsibilities at Zystrom and stormed down to Albrecht to keep an eye on the new boy as soon as he'd received his Intel. It was the first time in a long while that he found himself anxious about someone's wellbeing. A rather strange and unwelcome feeling, but he couldn't shake it, nonetheless.

'Let's get that blanket off you, shall we?' He couldn't understand why she was covered with one; her life would already be hotter than hell under the latex covering. Ignoring her moan of protest he pulled the thin wool covering from her back and there was a single second's silence as the blanket hit the floor, fluttering its wings earthbound.

The flogger Mark had been holding hit the floor with a thud. 'Holy fuck,' he said in horror, which was swiftly followed by, 'I'll fucking kill him.' He was staring at bright red, block capital letters which spelt the word
Kyle's
. 'When I get my hands on you, Levison!' he roared, and he felt his fingers pull into fists.

He watched as the poor wretch jumped up and gasped. He'd forgotten she'd had her ears plugged for the past hour or so. His outburst probably sounded like a bomb exploding inside her head. He examined the carnage. He could feel rage bubbling up inside him and a muscle ticked tightly in his jaw. Kyle was lucky he'd left the building. If he hadn't he'd be dead by now. He bent over her back to get a good view of exactly what had been done to her. He bit his tongue sharply.

'Why aren't you screaming?' he whispered.

'I am. You just can't hear me.' Her voice was strained.

'I'm so sorry. I had no idea the bastard had it in him.' Mark scratched his jaw and worked out what he would need to treat her. 'Hold on while I go and get some pain meds and some anaesthetic cream. Something with lidocaine should do the trick. I'll get some antibiotic ointment on you after its taken effect. Has he fed you?' She shook her head. Mark wanted to punch something, anything in fact, but he managed to keep himself in check. There were more important things to consider than his rage. 'OK, we'll sort that out too. Just keep it together for a few more secs.' She nodded but the lines of pain across her face spoke volumes. He got to work.

When he returned to apply the cream her back was curled up in agony and she was whimpering. He had no idea what was causing it for a second, but then he realised it was the suit. She was on the verge of a climax and there was little he could do to help her. At least it would be a distraction while he applied the cream, because no matter how gently he spread it over her, there was no way it would be painless.

He waited until her clit stimulator burst into a frenzy of motion, she contorted into an arch and then he liberally spread the cream all over her upper back, as fast as he could. She moaned miserably, but thankfully there were no further screams or sobs. When she stifled a bitter groan of frustration and collapsed upon the block he knew the suit had finished its cycle. He held out a couple of tablets and she took them into her mouth wordlessly. He held a paper cup to her lips and let her wash them down with water.