Maddy becomes a ponygirl 11 | pain and bonds | ponygirl stories

It was late afternoon when an exhausted Maddy was led back to the barn. Her maddeningly relentless and monotonous tour of the sandy pit had continued all day. Each time she would be started out slowly, only to have the pace increased until she was being led at a dead run.

She would have been less despondent, and her backside less sore, if her abilities had progressed during the afternoon. The constant movement had tired her, and by the end of the day she was tripping all over herself.

Between each session, she was allowed to rest and, at midday, she was given porridge to eat. Drabik removed her bit and squeezed the mixture of vitamins and high protein, whole grain cereal into her mouth from a plastic bag. She consumed the bland mixture greedily.

She was kept well watered and Drabik was careful not to exceed her pitiable abilities.

During the course of the day, Maddy saw a number of other ponygirls being led back and forth. She caught only glimpses of them as she whirled around her post, but it was enough to frighten her.

They were dressed like she was, their features obscured by their hoods. Rough looking men and sallow youths led them by leashes that led to thick, gold rings in their noses, a feature Maddy had yet to acquire. Maddy saw a team of two women pulling a lightweight cart, with a skinny youth driving it. She heard the crack of a whip and the next time she saw the women, they were hurriedly propelling the cart off into the distance.

When Maddy entered the barn, it was a hive of activity. Naked, hooded women were being led to and from their stalls. Maddy brushed up against one and she got a fleeting glimpse of a pair of forlorn eyes through the tiny holes in the hood.

She had only a few moments to study the other ponygirls. She was quickly led by Drabik through a maze like corridor to one of the stalls.

Unlike the stalls at the way station, these stalls had wooden swinging doors that reached down to two feet above the floor and blocked the view from inside and out. The stalls were ten by fifteen feet, longer than they were wide. Their walls were about eight feet high and didn't rise all the way to the ceiling. As a result, the noises of the busy barn were readily discernable from inside. In one of the corners nearest the door, there was a shower hose attachment and a drain. A small closet sat along the opposite wall. At the rear of the stall was a long padded rail about four feet from the wall. Rings were mounted at various strategic places.

Once inside the stall, Maddy's leash was released. Drabik removed the bit, the hood and collar. He released her wrists and removed the bracelets. He took off her boots. Maddy was completely naked.

There were no mirrors or mirrored surfaces in the stall so she couldn't see her face. Drabik took her hands and placed them in the air, over her head. She held them there, nervous as to the man's purpose, but she soon learned that it was benign enough as he began to stream a flow of cold water over her aching body.

It was strange to feel the flow of water over her bald scalp. It reminded her of what must be her grotesque appearance. She pushed aside the thought as she enjoyed the refreshing sheen of water flowing down her torso and sore legs. When she was fully drenched, Drabik took a soapy sponge and rubbed her body with it. Up and down her legs, over her buttocks, under her arms. When her whole body had been soaped, including her face and naked head, Drabik rinsed her off.

He dried her with a soft towel and applied a soothing cream to her neck, face and scalp.

Drabik then released the fastenings holding Maddy's ponytail together. Her hair flowed freely for the first time since she left the way station. It was strange to feel it loose on her naked back. The man ran water through the long, thick cascade of hair that sprung from the rear of Maddy's head and shampooed it. There was an electric hair dryer, and Drabik dried the hair and combed it out. When done, he joined it together again, using the fastenings he had removed earlier.

Maddy felt the man's efforts were caring, almost tender. Although he had hurt her, humiliated her, used her mouth with his thick, hard cock, he was meticulous with the care of her body. She realized he needed to take care of her. She was valuable property. She had been acquired from thousands of miles away to serve here as a ponygirl and that meant she be kept healthy and clean.

She was brought back to reality when Drabik restored the uncomfortable collar and reclipped her wrists behind her back. She grimaced with dismay as she watched him pull a new, clean, neoprene hood from the closet. She didn't struggle this time as he placed it over her head and restored the leather bit to her mouth. Maddy again was a person no more.

Drabik took a specially designed board and placed it on the railing that ran the width of the room. It locked into a groove on the rail and there was just enough room left to mount Maddy's ass on it. He pushed the board back, fixing its top in place against the rear wall of the stall. He lifted Maddy so her rear end rested on the rail then leaned her back on the board and belted her neck and torso in place.

Drabik grabbed an ankle and buckled the end of a thick, leather belt around it. He raised the ankle almost level with her torso, bending her knee, and affixed the other end of the strap to the rail. When he had done the other ankle, Maddy was leaning back, her eyes fixed on the ceiling above and her knees and ankles were spread wide apart, like the wings of a butterfly, raising her bottom slightly.

Maddy's spread legs revealed her sex and its hairy brown thatch.

Her knees were bent and her widespread ankles were affixed to the rail within inches of her thighs. Knowing everything this cruel man did to her had its own purpose, Maddy struggled to see him, to learn his intent, but the angle of her collar prevented her from lowering her head enough to bring the man within her hood's narrowly focused apertures.

She could hear Drabik scraping something in what sounded like a metal bowl. She recalled the sound that had been made just before her head was shaved. Maddy realized she was about to have her pubic hair removed. She balked at this further measure of control over her body, squirming in her bonds, struggling futilely to bring her legs together. One more mark of her individuality was going to be taken from her. Her sex would henceforth be bare, virtually indistinguishable from any other. Maddy had grown up a modest girl and had rarely worn revealing clothes as a teenager or young adult.

All day, the thought of her nakedness before the world had haunted and shamed her. Now she would be even more naked. All privacy, all personality was being stripped away.

Drabik was mixing some soap with water in a small steel bowl. He lathered it up with a brush. When Drabik began to apply the foamy soap onto her thick, brown bush, Maddy tried to rock her hips to frustrate his mission. The hard man had a simple solution to her attempt to frustrate his will. He grabbed Maddy's clit between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed hard. Maddy moaned in anguish.

The pain spread throughout her loins like a virus. Drabik waited until the girl was near to tears before releasing his tiny prisoner. Now she would cooperate.

Maddy cried as Drabik carefully removed swath after swath of hair.

She knew her naked loins would now invite use, as her tender nether lips and the slit they guarded would be clearly displayed. She recalled the shame and repugnance she felt when her owner that morning had filled her womb with his conscienceless prick, and when, later, her trainer had manipulated her to unwanted pleasure. So much of what was happening to her involved the callous use of her body. How many men would she be forced to fuck? How many men would press their hard manhoods into her mouth?

Each scrape of the razor brought a new cascade of tears to Maddy's eyes. She could feel the sharp razor drag across her pudenda. Where it passed, she felt her cool and wet, naked skin.

Ultimately, Maddy resigned herself to the loss of her pubic bush.

As she let her mind drift, wondering what other indignities she would be forced to endure, she remembered the golden rings she had seen in the noses of the other women. She knew it was only a matter of time before she acquired hers. She feared the pain of having her septum pierced, the humiliation she knew she would experience at being ringed like an animal, guided by her nose from place to place. She closed her eyes in despair.

When Maddy's cunt was clean shaven, Drabik wiped off the remaining soap with a wet cloth. He admired the pretty little thing, running his hand over the smooth surface. He tickled the nubbin of pleasure at the apex of the girl's cunt, worrying it into hardness, until Maddy's hips began to rock subtly and he saw a tell tale gleam appear between the engorging lips.

The ponygirl was mounted at just the right height for penetration.

Drabik pulled his hardening tool from its lair and pressed it against the softening lips of Maddy's pussy. He teased the cunt entrance with his cock, rubbing it against the length of the moistening gash, pressing it against the girl's tingling clit. He waited until she moaned with enforced lust before he pressed his meat home.

Maddy moaned with frustration and revulsion as she felt her sheath filled with her trainer's cock. It was as if he had read her mind and wanted to confirm her worst fears. The girl desperately wanted to expel the hot, hard intruder. She cried out a garbled protest from behind the leather bit and shook and strained at her bonds. Drabik smiled as he saw her futile struggle. Maddy's cunt was tight and hot, and he sighed as he drew his cock deliberately back and forth inside her. As Drabik slowly ploughed her moist, hot slit, Maddy began to feel her need for satisfaction rise. She felt the rough hands of the man run along the soft interior of her thighs. He laid a hand on her pelvic bone and began to softly caress her little bud of pleasure with his thumb, rubbing it gently, in a slow, circular motion.

The restrained girl's need filled her. The hand tormenting her clit was sending bolts of warm, pleasurable sensations through her loins.

Drabik's cock maintained a constant motion, a slow, tantalizing rhythm. The man watched as the girl's body began to tremble and shudder in her heat. He leaned over and took a stiff nipple in his mouth, sucking gently, swirling his tongue around the wide, dark areola. Maddy groaned. Her hips were bucking now, in time with the insistent cock in her womb. Her ankles strained at her bonds, this time, not for the purpose of denying her tormentor access to her loins, but, rather, to draw him further into her needy cunt.

Maddy felt her heat grow higher and higher. Her whole body convulsed when her orgasm began. She called out her ecstatic pleasure. Drabik felt her fleshy tunnel contract around his cock, as pulse after pulse of pleasure rocked the girl's body. He waited until her climax had diminished to a lingering echo before he began to seek his own pleasure in earnest. Maddy felt the steel hard cock drive deeper. The man's hips drove into her with each rapid thrust. She wanted him to stop. She tried to beg him to stop. She squirmed and struggled at her confinements. The hard sword of flesh was driving her to almost unendurable pleasure. When Drabik felt his cock begin to throb, he rammed it home, his body stiffening. His hands were on Maddy's breasts and he squeezed them tightly as jolt after jolt of mind blowing pleasure passed through him. Maddy screamed as her intense, exquisite contractions began again. The two bodies pressed hard at their coital connection in a mutual effort to drive the pulsing cock deeper inside her.

When his passion had been expended, Drabik stood still, gathering his senses. Maddy, too, struggled to clear her pleasure befogged mind. She was still languishing in the afterglow of her climax when she felt the man withdraw his softening prick from within her. She heard him zipper his pants and sensed him stepping back. She heard the door to her stall open and close. He was gone.

Slowly, Maddy's mind returned to the grim circumstances of her reality. She could hear other women being administered to in other stalls, the hissing of showers, the shuffling of booted feet. Suddenly she realized her powerful exclamations of passion must have been heard throughout the barn. Her public display of unbridled lust filed her with shame. She tried to crawl inside her self, to shrink away.

Mortification overwhelmed her.

As Maddy sat perched on the board, her legs splayed wide, she allowed herself to be carried away on a wave of self-pity and fear.

She could hear heavy boots pass by the door to her stall and various other activity all around her, the business of a ponygirl stable. She realized that, open and exposed as she was, any man who cared to swing open the doors to her stall would have ready access to her womb. Somehow she knew that was why her trainer had left her this way.

It was a while before anyone came. The door to her stall opened and Maddy heard two unfamiliar voices approach her. She tried, but she couldn't lower her head enough to see their faces. She felt rough hands on her thighs, other hands caressing her breasts. She moaned in despair as she prepared for her body to be invaded once more. A hand began to tease her slit. She tried to draw herself away, but succeeded only in being a source of amusement to the men. The disconsolate girl moaned as the fingers of the unknown hand entered her. All she could see from the angle of her perch was the criss-crossed, dark, wooden beams above her. She stared up at them disconsolately. Lips seized one of her breasts. The insistent tongue lavished attention on her stiff nipple, making her sigh.

Legs leaned up against the rail on which she lay and the prostrate girl felt the tip of a cock press at her womb's entrance. She protested futilely through the confinement in her mouth. The cruel appurtenance to her new, lowly status, allowed sounds to emerge, but not words. Her pleas for mercy came out as "Gaaaaaaa! Gaaaaaaa!"

As the anonymous cock sank deeper into her, she groaned and shook in helpless rebellion. One of the men laughed. When the hard cock began its rhythmic assault, to Maddy's dismay, she felt the tingle of unwanted pleasure recommence.

The restrained girl lost count of how many men fucked her that night. She didn't even know whether any of them had fucked her more than once, because she couldn't see them. Most of the men took her without regard for her own pleasure, pistoning their anonymous members inside her sheath until they had shot their load. Others languished in her pussy, stroked the little nub of pleasure at the top, caressed and sucked on her breasts, until the defenseless girl was returned to a state of frenzy. Each time she came, she cursed herself, cursed her wanton lust, cursed the men who were abusing her and cursed fate for her unhappy predicament.

It was dark when Drabik came to release her. Her pussy was sore and the results of untold ejaculations ran out of her. When Drabik brought her to her feet, she could barely stand. He dragged her to the water hose and washed her loins and legs. Adding a special nozzle to the hose, he washed out her sex with a cold jet of water. Maddy was grateful for that. She couldn't stand the thought of all those men's spunk lying inside her through the night. She looked up at Drabik and realized the irony of her being grateful for anything this man did. He was her chief tormentor. He had tied her up, displayed and available for all comers. Why should she be grateful to him for anything?

Drabik toweled off his charge and led her to a narrow, thin, cotton pallet on the floor next to the side of the stall. He forced her to lay on it, on her back while he bound her ankles and thighs with tight, wide straps. Maddy struggled with discomfort as her bound arms behind her caused her back to arch. There were rings on the floor on both sides of the 'head' of the primitive bed, and Drabik fastened a short chain from each to rings on the side of the girl's collar. He also fastened her ankles to similar rings at the foot of the bed.

Satisfied that the blue hooded ponygirl was immobile, he removed the bit that was still held firmly between her teeth. It was replaced by a thick, leather probe that filled her mouth and was attached to a leather belt. The belt was fastened behind her head. The last thing he did before he walked away was to lower small tabs with Velcro on each side over the holes for her eyes. During the day, the Velcro allowed the tabs to be up so the pony could see to her necessary tasks.

At night, it was lowered and fixed firmly in place so the pony's sense of isolation would increase. Maddy shuddered as she was blinded again. Drabik made a final check on all of her bindings and left.

Maddy could hear her trainer's heavy boots as he navigated the warren of stalls on his way out of the barn. She heard the door of the barn roll open and closed. After that, there was an almost ghostly silence. She lay there, reveling in the quietude, grateful her horrid day of shock and torment was at an end. Although she was trussed up cocoon-like, blinded, gagged, and anchored in place like some wayward pleasure craft, a wave of relief flowed through her. At first dismayed at her return to utter darkness, she slowly came to realize the pitch blackness she saw from behind her hood put a wall between her and all that had happened to her that day. It seemed more remote, less plausible somehow. Something she could bear, could think about without panic and fear.

She was exhausted from her ordeals and relished the almost dead silence of the barn. She could hear the building creak on its ancient foundations, the rustle of a neighboring nameless and faceless ponygirl as she struggled to get comfortable in her bonds. She was finally at peace, at rest. She had survived the harsh travails of her day. She let the feel of her own breathing sooth her.

She heard footsteps. Heavy boots walked slowly along the hallway outside her stall. She had a moment of terror as she heard the boot steps approach her door. Had someone come for her? Was her torment to begin anew? Her heart began to pound wildly, her body shuddered in fear. The footsteps passed her door and began to fade.

The sound of the boot steps Maddy had heard from inside her dark, confined world underscored her complete and utter helplessness. That mere boot steps could render her into a state of terror spoke volumes about the new life she was now apparently condemned to lead.

Frustrated and afraid, disconsolate at her fate, she twisted and strained at her bonds and started to cry. Was there no way out of this hellish place, she thought, miserably. What would the man do to her tomorrow? She already knew what he would do. He would make her run and run and run until she had no breath left. He would whip her when she faltered and failed to keep the relentless pace. He would make her suck his long, thick cock, the instrument that had driven her to pleasure this very night,

She knew as well that her body would be open to any who cared to use it. Her breasts and belly would be naked for all to see. How would she ever bear it, she thought forlornly. How would she survive?

But that was tomorrow. She tried to put it out of her mind, to instead take stock of herself, to see what part of her was left, was still hers.

Maddy was surprised that losing the use of her hands hadn't affected her as much as she would have thought. True, she was helpless without her hands. She couldn't open a door, unfasten a belt, scratch an itch, but she hardly thought about them throughout the day.

They were behind her, out of sight. It was almost as if they didn't exist.

Her voice, the ability to speak – that was something else. She had barely said a word since she had been kidnapped, ten, or was it twelve days ago, she really didn't know anymore. During that time she had gone from a laughing, carefree young woman, at the height of her youth and freedom, to a dumb animal, upon whom anything could be imposed and from whom everything was demanded. As long as she couldn't speak, as long as they kept that from her, her right to protest and assert her humanity, she would be merely another ponygirl, a beast of burden.

After a while, Maddy's mind drifted freely in her enforced darkness as her need for sleep overcame her. The boot steps of the watchman echoed faintly from the other side of the building like the steady drip of a faucet. She allowed the sound to mesmerize her, lull her, but, just as she was about to fall into desperately desired slumber, the steps came inexorably closer again. When she heard them reenter the corridor outside her stall, her heart began to beat in her chest like a drum, her stomach turned inside out – and then, he passed by again, leaving her once more alone with her thoughts.

As her fear subsided, Maddy couldn't help but recall the abuses her body had been put through that day. She thought back to her whipping. Her trainer had made his point very effectively. At any time, he could create a world of torment and pain for her. She was helpless to prevent or assuage it. She knew it wouldn't be the only time she'd be whipped. She was smart enough to know her trainer would want to keep the pain of the whip fresh in her mind. It was inevitable that someday she would disappoint him, break some rule, overstep some bound. The rack of whips she had stared at, kneeling, her hands chained above her, while her trainer gathered her accoutrements earlier that day, lay in wait for her. She just knew it.

A twitch in her right thigh muscle caused her to try and shift her weight. Her movement was automatic, a thing one would do unconsciously, but the bonds around her thighs and ankles prevented it. She had almost forgotten she was so cruelly bound. It brought home to her the fact she no longer had anything other than a possessory interest in her own flesh. She could occupy it, use it, motivate it to obey the commands of her masters, but she no longer owned it. It was the property of the tall, dark mustachioed man who had raped her that morning, whoever he was. If only she could put a name to him, to anyone she had seen that day, her trainer most of all, but most of her tormentors, as far as she was concerned, didn't even have faces. They were anonymous agents of a regimen of intentional debasement.

She remembered her now hairless sex. To her, there was no more potent symbol of her lack of control over her own body than the hewing off of her badge of sexual maturity. She was now like a child, less than a child, for even a child had some rights. Tomorrow, men would pierce it with their sexes, would lay their hands on it, probe it at will, and she would respond, shamefully, lustfully, just as she had today.

The footsteps were coming closer again. Whoever he was, he was like a ghost, haunting the warrens of the ponygirl barn. The fear returned. Maddy hated herself for it. She hated her vulnerability, her powerlessness. As the steps came closer, she whined and shifted her weight, causing a rattling of the chains that were holding her in place.

The noise caused the footsteps to stop. Maddy couldn't help herself.

She began to moan in fear. He was coming! He was coming! Her heart leapt into her throat and she began to whine when she heard the door to her stall opening. She felt the man's eyes on her. She wanted desperately to disappear. She prepared herself for the burn of a whip, or the kick of a boot. Her sex burned with the knowledge that he could have it if he wanted it.

Maddy heard the man utter some guttural words she didn't understand then felt a sharp line of fiery pain across her thighs. She moaned loudly in pain. The man spoke another few words in a clearly imperative tone. The door swung closed. The boots began to walk away. Maddy sobbed as the pain from the lashing slowly subsided.

She cried until, finally, mercifully, she fell asleep.

Jake sat at the counter of the run down diner drinking his fourth cup of the establishment's excuse for coffee. He could see through the plate glass window the entrance to the warehouse belonging to the National Uniform Company. It was Sunday and the overhead doors were all locked shut. They had had the place under surveillance for about ten days. The tracer was still on the truck they had followed back from Georgia. It was sitting inside, parked, for the time being.

Twice since they had been watching, it had rolled out to the street and undertaken a long journey. The first had been to a small town in Ohio, another remote country road, another long, gravel driveway. As before, it had stayed for maybe an hour then was on its way back to New Jersey again.

The second trip was even longer, all the way to Michigan. This had been an urban pick up, in downtown Detroit, two days out and two days back. The truck pulled into the garage of the National Uniform Company and didn't come out.

Since then, there had been no activity. From the video they had gotten on the day of Herman and Louise's summary execution, they had been able to pick up the two men who had been in the truck that day when they emerged from the company warehouse. The younger one had a condo down in Liberty Harbor. It was registered to a Charles Wadowski. The older guy lived in a split story ranch in Short Hills. Kids, little league, the little woman, the whole works. The house came back as owned by James and Ruth Feeney.

Bertram, Madeline's tycoon uncle, had been putting pressure on Jake for some action. Jake wanted to wait until they had the whole set up down pat. He still didn't know how they were getting the girl's out.

He didn't have long to wait.

Martinez called him on his cell phone and let him know that the young guy, Wadowski, was on the move. Leon called a few moments later and let him know Feeney had left his house and was heading east, toward Elizabeth. Maybe today was the day. Jake alerted the rest of his crew. The two times they had seen the van leave the warehouse it had been nighttime. Maybe something was up.

Feeney blew down 280 East to the Turnpike and got off at the Elizabeth exit. The Yanks were on the radio and were leading 2 to 1

in the fourth. Feeney had a little money on the Red Sox. Nothing special, just for entertainment's sake. He pulled up to the warehouse about 3:30. As was his habit, he took a good look around before he opened the warehouse door. Chuckie was due soon. The rest of the boys would be there in an hour or so. It would take Chuckie just about that time to scoot out to the trucking company's loading dock where he would pick up ten gleaming silver containers. By the time he got back, they would be ready to load the girls and take them back to the loading dock for transfer to the air cargo container.

He would be sorry to see go, the two beach bunnies he had picked up in Tennessee. He didn't let any of the other men fuck the merchandise. They had to be satisfied with Allison, their permanent fuck toy. He did what he pleased and he had a good time watching the two tanned beauties learn to lick pussy while Allison sucked his cock. They were both accomplished cock suckers too. He liked to watch their eyes widen with fright as they took his discharge in their mouths, but today was to be bye bye for them and all the other girls.

There would be a new crop in a week or so.

Jake had left the diner and Irving took his place. Tucker joined Jake in his Lumina. They watched Chuckie enter the warehouse and come out a few minutes later, driving the van. He was alone in it.

Jake followed.

The van pulled up to a freight depot located about three miles from the airport. Jake watched the van pull into a loading dock and saw the door to the dock open. He could just see inside the freight facility through the gap between the side of the van and the open door. He was surprised to see cardboard boxes of what he presumed to be uniforms unloaded. He caught a glimpse of a silver container, long and sleek being loaded on. He counted four, but assumed there were more. The cartons were loaded back on the truck and Chuckie pulled away. The truck went back to the National warehouse and disappeared inside.

Irving reported two more men having arrived while Chuckie was gone. They watched the warehouse for about an hour and a half. The van emerged at about 6 p.m. Chuckie was driving again, but the older guy, Feeney, was with him.

Jake and Irving followed the van back to the freight depot. This time there was a flatbed truck with an air cargo container on it. After about three quarters of an hour, the flatbed took off, followed by the van, a few minutes later. Jake decided to follow the flatbed. It went straight to the airport. They watched it enter the freight yard.

"Can you trace that thing?" Jake asked Irving.

"Easy," Irving replied. "I got the cargo number of the container.

Get me back to the hotel and I can have its destination in about ten minutes."

Jake called in all the troops. They met at the hotel, Jake's room, which was a suite and had a conference table in it. Jake called for opinions.

Martinez spoke first. "Why don't we pick up this Feeney guy and go to work on him? Tucker'll have him singing in half an hour."

"And what if he dummies up?" Jake asked. "If he goes missing, the whole operation could disappear. We need to know for sure where he's sending the girls."

Irving came in from his room. "I've got it," he said. "The container is shipping via a company known as Hercules Transport. It's an old mob front. The destination is a small country called Kalikastan. It's in the former Soviet Union."

Leon spoke up. "I've heard of that place. It's wild west city."

"I know it too," Jake said. "It's damn hard to get into. It's run by local mobs. If Madeline's there, she'll be hard as hell to find."

"What if we find out who picks up the container?" Irving asked.

"That'll tell us who's taking delivery," Jake answered. "But that wouldn't be her final destination. She's probably been sold to someone else, a private collector or a whorehouse." Jake paused to think about the import of his remarks. He had a vision of that happy, smiling, young woman he had seen in the pictures in her apartment being used as somebody's private sex slave, or worse yet, fucking twenty men a day in a high class brothel. Either way, the girl's life would be a nightmare.

"Everybody agrees Maddy probably went out on one of these containers?" Jake asked. There was general assent. "Okay," he said.

"I'll call Bertram."

Prev Next