Maddy becomes a ponygirl 5 | leather hood, barn | ponygirl stories

It was about four o'clock in the afternoon. Jake had examined Maddy's apartment without gaining any insights to her whereabouts.

One thing he had learned was that it was unlikely Maddy had run off without telling anyone. Her rooms were neat as a pin. Everything was in its place. She had left behind a diary that gave no hint she was embroiled in a secret love affair. There was food in the refrigerator for several days. Mail had accumulated, but there was nothing there of interest.

Jake sat in the sheriff's conference room and received reports from Tucker and Irving.

"I checked the scene, Jake, and there's nothing there," Irving informed him. "No skid marks, no debris on the shoulder, nothing.

I've vacuumed the car and sent it and the mud from the tote bag to Tallahassee. I told them to work on it overnight. We'll have prelims in the morning."

Jake looked over at Tucker. Tucker had gone to see the boyfriend.

He had spent a couple hours with him. Although no worse for wear, Tucker did push him to the limits of his tolerance for pain. If he wasn't telling the truth, Tucker would jump off a bridge.

"No dice on the boyfriend," he told Jake. He was a man of few words.

Although he hadn't expected the solution to Maddy's disappearance to roll off a shelf, Jake had hoped for more than this.

"Okay," he said. "I think we can all agree she's been snatched. By whom and what for, we don't know. I'm going to connect with my FBI contact and see if there's anything by way of a suspected serial killer in the area. Jim," he was speaking to Tucker, "I want you to spell Martinez. Tell him that after a dinner break he should come back and the two of you stake out the place. It's a long shot but if it hits, it'll be a home run."

"Yeah, Jake," Tucker replied. He'd been on many jobs with Jake.

He was older than Jake, in his early fifties. He was tall, about six foot four, and broad shouldered. His close cropped, grey hair covered an almost block shaped head, his square jaw conveyed his intense sense of purpose, as Harold had discovered.

Jake was small, about five foot seven. His hair was brown, also cut short, but long enough to flow past the tops of his ears and to force him to give a boyish swipe of his hand when it fell across his forehead and into his light gray eyes. He had strong hands, large for his arms, but was not ham-fisted. He was tautly muscled. His posture always suggested the chance he would leap out of his chair and into action.

He walked with a gentle grace, cat like. He was an efficient team leader, had killed many times, and usually got whatever he was after, whether a hostage in the jungles of Colombia, a stolen shipment of gold, or, as in this case, a missing beauty.

Bertram had given him a couple of pictures back in New York and he found more in the girl's apartment. Jake had a connoisseur's eye for female flesh, his only true weakness. He had admired the delicious curves of Maddy's body. One of the pictures had been taken in the summer at a lake, and she was wearing a small two piece. Her eyes were delightful, containing a liveliness he was sure would be even more intense in person. There was something haunting about her. He was going to be really pissed if someone had killed her. He put the picture in his herringbone jacket pocket.

Irving looked just as you'd expect a tech nerd to look. He had short curly black hair, stood no more than five foot six, wore a cotton plaid, short sleeved, dress shirt with a pocket in the front that always carried a felt tip pen, but he knew his stuff and had worked with Jake often.

He had access to the best labs in the world and seldom missed a thing.

"Ah, Jake" he said, "there was one more thing."

"Yeah?" Jake replied.

"When I took a look at the car, there was nothing wrong with it. It started right up and ran for twenty minutes no problem."

"And?" Jake asked.

"If the car broke down from a malfunction, that would be one thing.

The other alternative, assuming this was a snatch, was that the car was forced off the road, but there were no skid marks, if the police reports can be trusted, and no damage to the car."

"Okay," Jake urged his specialist on.

"Well, I have to assume the car was either stopped voluntarily or it broke down. If we're ruling out a runaway scenario, it must have broken down. But it was working fine. So I took a look under the hood. Everything seemed normal until I looked at the gas line. There was a small imprint on the rubber hose, like it had been clamped."

"Clamped?"

"Yeah, clamped. In the glove compartment, there was a receipt from a local garage, the one across from the bar where she worked.

She had a tune up last week and the oil changed. No mention of hoses. We should check it out."

"Well, let's say the mechanic tells us he didn't clamp the hose, what does that say to us?" Jake asked.

Irving leaned over in his seat as if to give special emphasis to his words. "If I was going to stop a car without forcing it off of the road, and I had access to the car before hand, I'd rig a little radio signal doohickey that would press a clamp on the gas line. The car can't run without gas."

"That means this is a probably a professional job." Jake observed.

"Correctamundo, Senor Jake." Irving was always pleased with himself when he pulled gold from lead. "Or a very smart amateur," he added. "My guess would be on the former."

Jake ended the meeting. He would check out the mechanic. He told Irving to design a prototype of what he would need then list the parts.

They might get lucky and find something that was esoteric enough they could track it to a few sales locations. Better yet, maybe mail order.

"I'll have it for you in the morning," the tech man promised.

The three naked prisoners spent a very uncomfortable couple hours, standing, legs splayed, their heads and arms imprisoned. The bags over their heads made their breath intake stale as the air they breathed out was recirculated. It took a deep breath to get a good charge of oxygen. The lack of substantial oxygen made them groggy.

Louise had removed the bags momentarily so she could apply some eyeliner and makeup to the girl's faces. Each of them wore a coat of bright red lipstick, rouged cheeks and dark lines around their eyes.

After the bags were replaced, she rouged their nipples too.

It was about 7:30 that night when a dirty, brown delivery van rolled slowly up the gravel driveway. The truck's headlights bounced jerkily over the house as the truck maneuvered through the potholed pathway. Herman was sitting on the porch, drinking a Stroh's and smoking Camels. The guy was late. He hated that, but the arrival of the van meant a payday. He rose to greet the driver and passenger.

Louise had stayed in the barn to mind the girls. The chances of them slipping their bonds was slim, but it didn't hurt to be careful.

They couldn't get far very fast with their legs in the spreader bars, but it would be hard to explain a stiff legged naked girl emerging from the woods and flagging down a car.

The two men stepped out of the van after maneuvering it so the rear was facing the garage. They were dressed like delivery guys, light brown uniforms, little brown baseball caps. The truck said Nationwide Uniforms on it in large gold letters. It carried an address in Elizabeth, New Jersey.

The driver was tall and thin, thirtyish. The other guy was shorter and stockier. He was younger, early twenties. Herman walked up to the men and shook their hands.

"Glad to see ya," he said.

"Sure," the tall one said.

"Can I get you anything, a beer or something?" Herman asked ingratiatingly.

The young guy looked like he was going to say yes when the tall guy said, "Thanks, no. We've got a lot of driving to do tonight.

Coffee before we go maybe."

"No problem," Herman answered. "Well, you want to see the goods?" he continued.

"That's what we're here for," the tall one said.

Herman led the men to the barn. He opened the tall, broad door and a slanting ray of light fell outside. The men entered and he closed the door behind them.

The three hooded girls were standing directly under the only light in the place. Louise had covered the windows with sack cloth so the men could expect privacy. You can't be too careful. The tall man took charge. "Let me see the big girl first," he said.

"Sure, help yourself," Herman replied.

The two men approached Maddy. The tall man looked appreciatively over her exposed flesh. "Nice," he said. "Just like the picture." He stepped up and, using both hands, weighed her large, firm, round breasts.

Maddy had heard the door to the barn open and several sets of feet enter. It was funny how you could hear better when your sight was obscured, especially if it had been for a long time. She heard the complimentary words of the stranger. While she had been immobilized, made up and cleaned up, Maddy had concluded the unimaginable. She was going to be sold to somebody who liked pretty girls, and who would undoubtedly fuck her and use her. The sensation of the man measuring her breasts confirmed her fears.

The tall guy ran his hands down Maddy's legs. From a crouched position, he pulled out a tape measure. He looked up at Herman. "Do you mind?" he asked.

"No, no, go right ahead," Herman answered.

The man took the tape measure and ran it the length of the inside of Maddy's thigh. He seemed to be pleased. He then measured the circumference of her thighs and the broadness of her hips. He ran the tape around her back and measured her bust size. "Thirty-eight," he said to himself.

Rising, he spoke again to Herman. Louise hovered by Herman's side watching the buyer taking stock of the goods. "Let me see her face."

Louise stepped forward and withdrew the hood. Maddy's eyes blinked at the sudden infusion of light. Once adjusted, they widened at the harsh, business like face of the man who was assessing her.

"Spit out the ball," he said to her.

Maddy was so frightened she almost peed right there. She saw Herman standing by, the electric wand in his hand. She would obey.

With some difficulty, Maddy pushed the ball out of her mouth with her tongue. It landed on the man's palm, covered with the moisture of her mouth. The man flipped it to Herman nonchalantly.

He pressed wide Maddy's cheeks to examine her teeth. He pushed her head side to side, looking for blemishes. He stared into her eyes, assessing the spirit of the female displayed before him. He could tell a lot about a girl by looking into her eyes, especially a frightened one.

He had been at this for some time.

The man removed a picture from his pocket and examined it beside Maddy's face. It was the same girl all right. One more thing to check.

Still looking the girl in the face, the uniformed man slid his hand down Maddy's tummy to the lips of her sex. As he seized them, Maddy let out a small cry. She felt him rub the lips gently, tickling the button at their joining. Maddy grimaced. It was yet another insult to her flesh. She couldn't avoid the man's gaze while fondled her, and she couldn't prevent the tingling that began in her loins or the lubrication of her wide open slit. Tears slowly crept down her face as she swayed slightly in her chins. She dared a minor imprecation,

"Please," was all she said, her voice low, almost a whisper.

"Shut up, cunt," the man said.

Maddy shut her eyes and her mouth. It was useless to plead with these people. They had her fate in their hands and she was powerless.

The effects of the manipulation of her pussy soon had its intended effect on the girl. She tried to stretch her legs, standing on her tip toes, to assuage the slowly building sensations. Involuntarily, her hips began to rock. Her chest was blotched with redness, the nipples of her swaying breasts hardened. She could neither avoid the man's stimulation of her sex nor speed it. Either one would have been preferable to the slow, inexorable build up of her passions. She opened her eyes to see the man still staring at her face. Herman and Louise were watching, like trainers monitoring the performance of a dog they were selling. Maddy couldn't restrain herself any more. She raised and lowered her hips in strange mimic of fucking. She was breathing deeply, tiny cries escaping from her lips.

Maddy was grateful when her explosion of lust overcame her. "Oh!

Oh! Oh!" she cried. Her juices flooded the hand tormenting her. Her whole body shook with pleasure. For only a moment, Maddy forgot where she was, what was happening to her. She uttered a long, deep, moaning sigh.

When she recovered, the man was still looking into her face, but now he was smiling. "That's a good girl," he said. Maddy was mortified and humiliated. A wave of disconsolation passed through her. She was going to be this man's prisoner. What I have ever done to deserve this, she thought miserably.

The man brought his sticky hand to Maddy's lips. "Clean it!" he ordered.

Maddy looked over at Hermann who had the wand. She looked at the man in front of her. What choice did she have? She licked her own discharge off the man's hand. When she had finished to his satisfaction, the man stepped back. "She'll do fine," he said. He nodded to Herman and moved on to the next girl. Herman stepped forward, reinserted the ball in her unhappy mouth and drew the hood back over her head.

Maddy heard the man's callous comments about Peggy Ann, who was next to her. "Small tits," he said. "A little heavy in the hips.

Nice ass though. Let's see her face."

The man approved of Peggy Ann's facial appearance then put her through the same sexual exercise as Maddy. Maddy heard the girl's squeals and whines as she was driven to orgasm. Peggy Ann was a screamer and she called out loudly as she came. "Oh God! Oh God!

Oh! Oh! Oh!" She, too, was ordered to lick her pungent cum off the man's hand. The man made a sound of approval.

The man was not quite so sanguine when he came to examine the blond girl. "She's skinny," he said with disdain.

"She'll fill out," Herman answered. "She's been in the hole for two weeks," he lied.

"I don't think so," the man answered. "Let's see her face."

Louise cooperatively removed the hood and the ball. As soon as her gag was removed the girl began to beg and plead.

"Oh, please let me go, please. I want to go, please, please let me go!"

Maddy heard a resounding Crack as the man evidently slapped her in the face. "Shut the fuck up!" he yelled. But that didn't stop the girl.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" she cried. "Oh, God, don't hit me please. I want to go home. Please let me go!"

"Gimme that thing," the man growled to Herman. Herman handed him the wand. 'Zap!' The man shocked her loins.

"Eeeeeeeeeeee!" the young girl screeched.

Zap! Another scream. Zap! Another scream.

The wand was placed in the girl's cunt one more time.

"Oh, no, I'll be good, I'll be good! Please don't hurt me anymore, Please!"

The man spoke to her sternly, "Then shut the fuck up, got it!"

"Oh, yes, yes! I'll be quiet."

"Shut the fuck up!" the man roared.

Finally, the little blond girl was silent. Maddy could hear her sniffling and a low whine.

"Where the fuck did you get her?" the man asked.

"She was a waitress at a diner. She's over eighteen. She's pretty.

I'll bet she fucks like there was no tomorrow," Herman replied.

"Yeah? Did you fuck her?" the man asked.

"No way," Herman replied. "Honest."

The man took another long look at the girl. "Well, I know a guy, maybe, okay."

"Don't you want to make her come?" Herman asked.

"She won't do too much fuckin' where I'm sending her," the man explained. "Not for long, anyway."

"Let's go in the house and work out the details," Herman said.

"Okay," the man answered. He and Herman departed.

The young guy had watched quietly while his boss appraised the merchandise. He watched as Louise regagged and hooded the blond girl, then turned and, leaving the barn, went to the truck. He dug behind a couple of rows of boxes of uniform pants and took out a specially marked box from the van. He manhandled it back into the barn and placed it on the floor. Opening it, he removed three wide belts. He took the first to Maddy and, circling her waist with it, locked it into position. Its hasp closed easily but was removable only with a key. He placed a similar belt on the two other naked women.

He looked over at Louise.

"Can you unhook them for me?" he asked.

"Sure can," Louise said. "Which one first?"

"The screamer, I guess." The bulky youth answered.

Louise stepped over and released the lock that held the blond girl's yoke together. The girl stumbled due to the spreader bar and her blindness, but her neck and hands were freed. Louise held her up.

The heavy man removed two bracelets from the box and installed them on the blond girl's wrists. He then hooked the wrists to the side of the belt, and pulled it taut, just above the girl's hips. It could be slid down, with some difficulty. The next accessory was meant to prevent that. A jumble of leather straps was removed from the box. He took it over to the whining girl and dropped it on the floor in front of her, and turned to Louise. "The collar?"

"Yeah, I'll get it off," she answered. She took a key from a ring she kept in her dress pocket and removed the narrow collar. She put the collar on a hook on the wall of the barn. She would take them all downstairs later.

While the naked, blond girl stood there helplessly, the man wrapped a leather band around her neck. It was a quarter inch thick and attached to straps fore and aft. He ran the front strap down between the blonde's tiny breasts and fastened it to the front of the belt. He pulled it tight, then repeated the process in the back. Now the belt was immovable.

The spreader bar was removed and bracelets were applied to her ankles connected by a one foot chain. The man paused. It was time to do the head.

Returning to the box, the man brought back a leather helmet like device. Louise, in anticipation of his needs, removed the hood and ball gag. The blond girl looked about wildly. She saw the thing in the man's hands and guessed its purpose. "Please don't put that thing on me?" she begged piteously. "Please?"

"Shut the fuck up," the man said. The blond girl complied. Her body shivered with fright. What had the man meant that she wouldn't do too much fucking? What were they going to do with her? As the man presented a large leather plug to her mouth she moaned loudly.

"Oh, God, no!"

The man rammed the gag home, filling her mouth. Her cheeks bulged and her lips were gruesomely distended. The gag was attached to a hood that went over the girl's face. It buckled under her chin and covered her head with leather. Two small plugs went into her ears to inhibit her hearing. There were two little straps that allowed their adjustment for her small head, two little holes for her to breathe through her nose. Her eyes were covered.

There was one last devise to be affixed on the girl's body. The young man took another belt from the box. It was also made of leather, but had a thick absorbent pad almost its entire length. The man snaked it between the blond girl's thighs and attached it to the front and back of the belt. Accidents might happen and they didn't want the truck all fouled up. In fact, the girls would almost certainly have to pee several times during the fifteen hour trip to New Jersey.

When it was her turn to be prepared, Maddy docilely allowed the confining outfit to be installed on her body. She knew resistance was futile, as was any effort to obtain mercy. Her fate was sealed, whatever it was. She didn't start to cry until the leather hood was pulled over her head and attached under her chin, but her tears were remarked by no one but herself, as the salty drops were absorbed by the thick leather of the hood.

The tall, distraught girl was led from the barn to the van. As he had done with the other girls, the man patiently tugged on the girl's arm, letting her progress slowly, with tiny steps, to the transport. Girls who were trussed up like this were rarely uncooperative. What choice did they have?

Once at the van, the man pulled Maddy forward so that her torso fell across his back. He then lifted her into the van. There was another short passage and Maddy thought she heard the faint noise of what sounded like a locker door opening. Almost all sound was suppressed by the earplugs. She was shoved inside and straps tightened about her neck, chest, thighs and ankles. She heard the locker door slam shut with a deadened clang.

The lockers at the sides of the van's interior were barely distinguishable from the walls. The walls had been built out to accommodate the nine inches or so that was the average measurement, front to back, of the female body. Girls with torsos a little bit thicker got squeezed in.

The heavy set man was done. He wanted a beer but would accept the coffee that was proffered earlier.

While the younger man was loading the truck, the tall man settled accounts with Herman. The price on the tall girl had been set. It had been listed with the want notice that had been emailed to Herman several months earlier, but the prices on the other two were open to negotiation.

Herman faced a somewhat loaded deck. The girls were already being packed for shipment. Even if he didn't like the price, there weren't a lot of people to sell them to. In fact, the people he dealt with would take it hard if he started selling to anyone else, but ultimately, usually, a fair price was reached. After all, the buyers wanted Herman to keep collecting girls for them. So they had to pay him commensurate with the risk. There were not a lot of sources of fine, young, female flesh, and few as good at it supplying it as Herman and Louise.

Herman had made coffee. He poured the tall man a cup. "Well, what do you think the little one's worth." He wanted to settle her price first then bargain up for the cheerleader. She actually was a cheerleader, from the University of Alabama. Herman had watched her pretty panties when she was flung into the air by her teammates.

He was sold on her at once.

The tall man knew his business. It was the cheerleader first.

"I'll give you forty-five thousand dollars for the brunette."

"She's worth more than that," Herman replied. Both men knew this was true, but bargaining was bargaining.

"Her tits are small," the tall man said as he took a first sip of his coffee.

"Not that small," Herman answered. "She's got a great ass. You said so yourself."

"A nice ass I said."

"Better than nice."

"Okay, better than nice, but look what we paid you last time for the black haired girl. Now, she had an ass, and we only gave you sixty-five thousand for her."

The bargaining continued for a while. They settled on fifty-five thousand dollars for the cheerleader. The tall man offered twenty thousand for the blond. Herman cursed himself for not taming her a little while he had her in the 'hole'. That awful screaming! And the mouth! He should have taught her to keep it closed. Well, it was still all profit.

"I'll let you have her for twenty-seven thousand five hundred," he said grudgingly. Both men knew it was a fair price.

"Done."

The agreed upon price for the tall girl was one hundred thousand dollars. "Somebody wants this girl real bad," Herman thought when he got the email. Well, he wanted one hundred grand pretty bad. He had determined he would find the perfect girl and he had.

The tall man counted out one hundred eighty-two thousand five hundred dollars. Herman left it there while they talked. He would recount every pack later.

"So, Herman," the man asked, "you staying in business?"

"Sure, why not?" Herman answered. No way would he ever tell this guy he was retiring. If he told them that, he would no longer be of any use to them, he was more than likely to get a bullet behind the ear first, but he wanted one more score. One more good payday and he was out. "I'll have another load for you in two weeks," he said.

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