Named and Shamed (23 page)

The body brush came next. Soft, fluffy bristles caressed her skin and had she not been so aroused they might have tickled her. All it actually did was up her level of frustration a notch. The brush flew in Daniel's hand, as if speed was of the essence, but for Jenny time dragged miserably. All she could think about was one thing and one thing only. When would her next orgasm appear? Right at this moment in time she couldn't have cared less for escape, and had the SAS come roaring into the compound with their guns at the ready she wouldn't have thanked them. Letting out a whine she wiggled her ass again in a pleading motion, hoping someone would take pity on her. But all she earned for her troubles was a sharp slap.

'You'll get plenty of that later, if you behave. All those holes will be impaled to their fullest and all of your petals, pretty pink or otherwise, will be teased and tormented. I'm just here to make sure you're presentable for the main event, so stop whinging.'

To prove that he meant business, he proceeded to fit her bit and bridle, making sure the tongue port she wore deadened each sound that might chance to leave her lips. The appliance was easily tested with another couple of strokes of the flogger. When he was satisfied that her moaning had become much subdued in volume, he proceeded to the next step of her preparation.

Jenny heard a worrisome squelching sound. What on earth was that? Then fingers were delving inside her anus and pussy, liberally spreading around what could only be slippery lubricant. It was nearly her undoing. She wasn't sure how much more she could stand, but when she felt a plug at her rear the pleasure stopped and she stiffened. It made no difference. He began pumping it in and out, slowly at first, his hand on her neck, pushing her backwards and forwards. She helped him of her own free will. She wanted to move. She wanted to buck and bounce, but when her movements became too wild he calmed her down with his hand across her back. She could feel a soft stirring of pain from her nether regions and she mewled.

'Push out. It'll be over in a few seconds if you do. If not, we'll keep going as we are. One way or another you'll be wearing your tail to auction. You can't be a pony girl without one.'

Feeling his fingers slide more lubricant around the base of the plug she was well aware that he meant every word, and as the pain notched up a level as he slowly dilated her sphincter, she decided to follow orders. The plug swiftly popped inside her and was fastened within her webbing, which would make sure it stayed firmly in place. Her body flooded with heat. He did not insert anything inside her pussy and she found herself lamenting the fact. She wanted to be filled.

Helping her to stand upright, he spread her legs wide apart. Although her clit pulsed painfully he went nowhere near it. The waxy smell of black boot polish assailed Jenny's nostrils as he went to work shining her thigh-high boots from top to bottom. The wide stance was either for her balance or so he could get a good angle as he ran his rag over every inch of leather that covered her body. She was pulled this way and that as his fingers tugged at her webbing and slid over her skin. She twitched at each touch of his hand, but he neither noticed nor cared.

When the polishing was over he reached for a can of aerosol and applied it in long lines to her boots. The smell was acrid and unpleasant but at least he worked quickly. When he had finished her boots gleamed. He applied the shine spray to a clean rag and went to work on the rest of her, whistling away nonchalantly. She was just one in a long line of numbers to him, she guessed.

When he pulled out a slim plastic comb from his pocket, she took a moment to wonder why he'd bother combing her hair. It wasn't as if there was much left of it now. She was soon to discover that though the short hair on her head did get a quick brush, it was not the main destination for his grooming implement. He was using it to plait her tail. Each tug of the comb made her body tremble with need, and there were many. He was threading a swatch of white hair into her black tail for the auction, alongside numerous tinkling bells, and he was making sure that there wouldn't be a hair out of place upon her. Although she wriggled and squirmed, it made no difference to his deft sweeps with the comb and before long a heavy plait bristled against her backside.

Another aerosol was produced. This time it was a can of hairspray, for he sprayed it liberally on her tail and she could feel the cool mist on her backside and between her legs. When he had finished the heavy tail dragged at her plug and made her body jerk with each movement.

'Nearly finished, Pet.'

The words weren't comforting. What was he up to now? She didn't wait long to find out. He fastened her stiff white leather collar around her neck and then dipped his index and middle finger into a pot of red paste. He rubbed copious amounts of it into her sex and around her nipples. Looking down at his work, she guessed it was rouge he was using. The thought of her intimate parts being made the centre of everyone's attention brought another hue of red to her face. Wasn't it enough that she was naked? Were they going to make her a laughing stock as well?

Squirming yet again as his fingers palpated her labia and clit, she wanted to get down on her knees and plead for an orgasm. The only reason she didn't was because she knew the effort would be futile and humiliating.

'A few last touches and we're finished here.'

A jolt of pain went through her right nipple, before the left joined suit in commiseration. Two filigree gold nipple clamps, with an evil bite and large bell, had been attached to each of her nubs. To make matters worse there was a large chain between them, with yet more bells attached, which tormented her blisteringly hot flesh. He then clipped numerous small gold bells all over her leather webbing and corset. She was going to be a walking advert for the appearance of Santa Claus, it seemed.

Rolling her eyes, because it was one of the few privileges left to her, she let her mind wander to the auction that was looming ahead of her like an angry tornado with a vortex of spinning nails. She did not want to be here, she did not want a trainer and she did want to be put on display for others' amusement. But all of that mattered for nought. It was beginning to dawn on her that she had already lost much of her humanity; her need for thought, independence and the ability to exercise her own free will was dwindling already. How long would it be before it vanished altogether? How long before she was a crawling robot, with no other thought but how to best please her Master? She let out a gurgle of distress from her bit, but the effect was lost on Daniel. He was already tugging her reins and wherever her head went, her body quickly followed.

Jennifer Courtney Redcliff, daughter of well-respected millionaire Michael Redcliff, was being hooked over what could only be described as a washing line.

A thin cord of white nylon had been erected outside the entrance to the main training block, and all the novice ponies found their arm-binders hooked over the top of it. It was an incredibly cheap and effective way of restraining the ponies, not that money appeared to be of any object at Albrecht. There was no way the ponies could unhook themselves without the risk of falling flat on their faces, due to the high nature of their boots, but for those that thought the chance might be worth taking there was another obstacle in their way. Each pony was being fitted with a metre long, black metal spreader bar which would ensure that even if they did attempt an escape, they wouldn't be able to get far.

As the heavy metal cuffs were placed around her ankles and fastened tightly around her leather boots, Jenny felt her legs spread wide by the device. Her feet were shoulder width apart, and though it wasn't a painful stance she found herself in, the exposed nature of her naked body already had her trembling. She wasn't exactly sure if it was because she didn't want others' hands upon her or because she did. It was no secret that her body was aroused, wet and anxious for its first orgasm of the day. Daniel had seen to that. What she wouldn't have given to have been able to control the powerful reaction of her body to this kind of stimulus. The sorry truth of the matter was that not only did she enjoy it, but she craved more of the same. It was beginning to dawn on her that all she had thought about for the last few hours was sex. It scared her.

All the other ponies had their eyes forward and their heads held high. Jenny's eyes were darting everywhere, trying to see what might be coming her way next. There was little to see. Just several agitated grooms running around, making sure that their horses were looking their best. A flick of a comb here, an adjustment of tack there or a last minute spit and polish to eradicate a spot of make-believe dirt.

As far as the eye could see across the verdant paddock in front of her there was nothing of any note to feast her eyes upon. No one else was in the near vicinity, and noises were few. There was the far away muted hum of a car, a few tweets from enterprising birds looking for food and... nothing.

When at last all the grooms had finished their final touches, black cotton hoods were produced and placed over each novice's head. Each was bunched and tied loosely at the neck, making sure the wearer would have no way of dislodging it. Thick enough to prevent the wearer from seeing anything but a few rays of thin light seeping through them, they also muffled immediate sound. The trainees were left to await their fate in silence. Jenny, quite literally, felt like she had been hung out and left to dry.

The minutes ticked by on a clock that had its second hand stuck in reverse. Although Jenny could tell it was still daylight, she had no idea how long they had been left on display. A light breeze tickled her skin and tormented her sex. Thankfully the sun was not too strong above, or they had been left in partial shade because she could not feel her skin heat up as yet. Straining her ears for the tiniest of sounds, she failed to hear anything of interest. She tried to keep herself amused by envisioning her rescue; from the squadron of helicopters to each member of the insanely attractive SAS team who were waving semi-automatic weapons to ensure her release, but even that wore thin after she'd gone through the daydream from start to finish three times.

It wasn't long before she was stiff, hungry, tired and aching; so when the first trill of laughter caught her unawares from a distance not far off, it was relief that the sound was met with, rather than fear.

The initial rush of excitement that accompanied the first sound of laughter was increased as the pony to her far left let out a series of excited squawks. The sound slowly progressed down the line until it was Jenny's turn to discover the source. When a large hand slowly clamped over her breast and squeezed it a similar noise left her lips. Her nipple was then pulled to what felt like bursting point, before a hand reached behind to smack her ass cheeks.

But that wasn't the last of the indignities Jenny was required to suffer. As a trail of onlookers worked their way down the line her tail was pulled, her clitoris rubbed and her pussy explored. Sometimes they used fingers, usually two, but on other occasions they used objects, which were alternately hot or cold, and soft or unyielding. Try as she might to close her legs together, the spreader bar ensured she remained wide open for their play. Her body was thrust back and forth upon the line for their amusement. Nipple clamps were tugged, sometimes with gentle precision and other times with painful force, as the chain between them was pulled eye-wateringly tightly. Her legs were thoroughly examined from thigh to calf. Likewise the rest of her body; breasts were weighed in hands and buttocks were wobbled.

Throughout the whole process, although there was much laughter, no words were spoken. Not only was it demeaning, it was also horribly frustrating, as Jenny still had no idea of what to expect when the auction began. When the washing line sagged under her arms she guessed one of her colleagues at the front of the line had been taken somewhere. She felt her legs wobble underneath her body as the line was refastened and made taut once more. Time now began to move in fast-forward mode. Hungry hands nipped, tugged and slapped with a speed which was frightening until a familiar voice pulled her back from the abyss.

At first she had been taken aback by his gentle fondling. His hands had been softer than the rest, offering teasing caresses instead of painful pinches. He did not seem to be sizing her body up in comparison with the rest of the herd and his slow, easy movements indicated that he had a fondness for her. It could only be Mark. His voice confirmed what his hands could not.

'Relax, little filly. I'm going to help you get out of this place. Give your body up to me, and I'll make sure you earn that black collar in no time at all. I may even buy your ticket out of here. Isn't that what you want?'

The voice purred in her ear as his silky fingers slid over her body. She felt herself quicken and cursed a thousand times over for her helpless reaction to the man.

'You may hate the thought of this place, but you will come to accept it. It's already evident that you're enjoying yourself.' His fingers dipped to her pussy, sliding into the heat of her body before using her arousal to torment her clit. 'We are going to train these gorgeous pretty pink petals of yours to be greedily hungrily at all times. You will get used to climaxing twenty times a day, perhaps even thirty if we think you can handle it. Similarly, several days will go by where all sexual advances will be denied to you. Your body will come to crave release constantly and even if you did manage to get out of here, your libido would bring you back. Once a pony gets used to the kind of attention we give them, there is no going back. I think we'll be good together, Petal.'

As his teasing fingers left her body she instantly felt bereft and whimpered into her bit. She didn't know whether she could submit to such a man. Every time he touched her she would spontaneously combust under his fingers. It would be a one-sided relationship, but then, she suspected that most pairings at Albrecht were of that nature. She would be mad to accept him as her trainer, but that didn't stop her from wondering whether he had forgiven her for using his pen as a drawing pin on his neck.