Pony Training | Tamara 7 | whip bdsm stories

The morning wake-up call for the ponygirls came at seven thirty in the morning when a dozen or more black youths, none more than sixteen years old, entered the barn and went to the various stalls with buckets containing a slimy, porridge-like substance. This they poured into wooden troughs set into the side of the stalls.

Tamara realised suddenly that she had not eaten for something like 24 hours, yet the mess in front of her looked positively revolting. Even the food downstairs in the torture cellar had been better than this. Her stomach heaved. She just could not bring herself to push her face down into the mess.

Her groom saw her reaction. „Eat it, girl, or you will be punished,“ he commanded brusquely.

„Come on! It’s not too bad. You’ll soon get used to it.“ He reached up to Tamara’s head and released the temporary bit from the bridle on one side, then removed the stem from her mouth to leave it dangling.

„Eat!“ He ordered again. „If you leave anything at all, you will be whipped,“ he cast a quick look towards the other end of the barn, „or maybe chained to the wheel.“

Tamara followed the young lad’s gaze and shuddered. A picture of the unfortunate young girl’s leaden-like limbs mounting the steps of the wheel formed in her mind and she immediately determined that she would do anything at all to avoid a similar punishment.

Dutifully, trying to control the bile rising in her throat, Tamara shoved her nose down into the revolting slime, licking up and swallowing as fast as she could. The events of the previous evening still seemed like a nightmare, but this was even worse.

She jumped nervously suddenly and her hips bucked as a finger was thrust straight into her vagina. Seconds later a humiliated groan escaped her lips as the finger was withdrawn, only to be replaced by a small, but definitely erect penis.

„Eat!“ ordered the youngster, slapping her hard on the buttocks as he began to thrust himself in and out of her sex channel. „Get on and eat!“

Tamara was outraged that a mere boy could treat her so callously, yet could do absolutely nothing to prevent him doing whatever he liked with her. This, evidently, was what Madame had meant when she had said that she and Aimee were to be available.

„Eat!“ repeated the boy, slapping her again in between thrusts.

There was no help for it. With a sob, Tamara put her head back down to the trough and began to lick, her whole body shaking with the force of the battering of her sex lips as the boy rode himself to climax. Thankfully, the lad was very quick; withdrawing just a few minutes later after filling her with his seed. He said no more to her, just went about the business of washing and grooming her before fitting her with her harness for the day.

Tamara was devastated. The boy had treated her just like an animal. She thought back to the previous evening after Jason and the doctor had left the barn. It had seemed like absolute bedlam.

Carriages had pulled up outside, men and women drivers talking excitedly about their trips, jingling of chains and harnesses, the scraping of hooves as panting slaves were led back to their stalls.

Tamara had watched the horrifying spectacle in silence, fascinated in a terrible way at the sight of a dozen or so naked girls and two young men being tethered in their stalls, sweating and sobbing after their inhuman work.

The same procession of black youths had entered the barn and gone to the various stalls to begin washing and cleaning the ponies before settling them down for the night, black hands washing, kneading and polishing the human fillies and mares as a matter of routine. More than one filly, and both young men had been penetrated by his or her groom while Tamara had watched, so she knew the practice was common. Even so, to have it happen to her had been a real shock.

Talking between ponygirls, of course, was strictly forbidden, but once they were alone a few whispered sentences had introduced the two newcomers to the four women in the stalls opposite.

The woman with the huge breasts introduced herself in a whisper as Annette. The three other girls, Kate, Elizabeth and Penny, were her daughters. There was a distinct family resemblance, though the younger girl’s breasts hardly competed with their mother’s more generous globes.

It seemed that Annette’s millionaire lover had paid to have all four of them sent to Madame Annaliese’s island. Annette thought they had been prisoners for just over two years and, curiously, all four seemed to accept their lot.

Not all ponygirls, Annette told Tamara, were permanent residents. Many came to the island just for the occasional weekend or even odd days, sometimes with their Masters or Mistresses and sometimes on their own for further training. Annette, Elizabeth, Penny and Kate were permanent residents of the barn and there were four other girls kept permanently as house slaves who sometimes were sent to the barn to act as ponygirls. Now it seemed that Tamara’s and Aimee’s names might be added to the roster.

The girl that Tamara had seen chained to the wheel had been released by Jason that morning, but only after she had received thirteen strokes of the cane, the amount of turns of the wheel she had been unable to complete. The girl, so Annette had whispered, was being punished for general recalcitrance and a tacit unwillingness to co-operate in her training. Her name, it seemed, was Alyssa and she was just eighteen. Stubborn and rebellious Alyssa might have been, but the debilitating labour on the wheel had finally broken her and, on her knees, crying and sobbing her apologies, she had begged Jason to allow her to serve.

Tamara shuddered, determining stubbornly that, no matter how much her treacherous body betrayed her, however harsh the punishment and training, she would never truly surrender her soul.

If that day ever came, she might just as well be dead. Someday, somehow, she told herself, she would escape from this hellish place and the nightmare would be over.

Meantime, however, there was a trough to be licked clean and she bent her head to the task, licking up every last drop of the salty porridge-like mess until her tongue was sore from the rough wood. Her groom was pleased and patted her familiarly on the flanks while he praised her.

A grinning Jason came into Tamara’s stall just as the groom was leaving. The young overseer was bearing gifts. He had kept his promise and two straight shining steel bits were quickly inserted and buckled painfully into the mouths of the two new ponies. Both Tamara’s and Aimee’s arms were then folded and forced high up between their shoulder blades, secured in the single leather glove covering the arms in one fitting. The glove was attached by a slim strap to a ring in each girl’s collar, the strap tightened hard to force the arms even further up, arching the back and throwing the breasts into prominence.

A broad leather belt with various fittings was buckled tightly round the waist of each and they were fitted with a pair of soft black leather running boots reaching to just above the ankle. The soles of the boots, although incorporating square 2“ heels, were quite unusual. They were in fact shaped exactly like a horse’s hoof, complete in every detail. Even the horseshoes had not been omitted, though they were very lightweight and somewhat modified in design.

As Jason led them from their stalls, both girls walked rather stiffly and carefully, not only because of the unfamiliarity of the pony boots, but also because of the large butt-plugs which the youngster had just inserted; butt-plus to which their horsehair tails had been attached. The plugs were flanged so that they could not be expelled without manual assistance and the tails were colour co-ordinated; Red’s jet black to match her hair; Tamara’s a beautiful palomino gold.

On the way out of the barn they passed the large table on which the nude figure of an unfortunate ponygirl lay painfully spread-eagled. Stretched so tightly that she was hardly able to move a muscle, the girl was quivering, nasty-looking saw-toothed clamps torturing her nipples, labia and clitoris. Tamara gave a horror-filled gasp as she looked at the girl’s depilated mound and saw that she too had been branded, the letters ‚SLAVE’ burnt deep into the sensitive skin. The wound was still red and angry, so the branding had obviously been done fairly recently.

Jason yanked on her leash and she was forced to quicken her pace to catch up with her longer striding captor. Then they were outside and, still trembling, she breathed deeply of the fresh air as the young black led them to the main paddock, consisting of a large circular track with a raised wooden platform in the centre. On the platform stood Madame Annaliese, dressed as if for a horse show. Her jodhpurs were tucked into shiny black boots, the wide flare of the creamy breeches contrasting sinisterly with the high gleam of the boots. Her tweed hacking jacket was cut tightly to the waist, a perfect fit. She wore a red stock at her throat with a blood red pocket-handkerchief tucked rakishly in her left breast pocket. The whole ensemble was completed perfectly by a pair of thin, black leather gloves. >From her left wrist dangled the ever-present, short, vicious quirt.

Tamara’s heart thumped painfully as she looked at the site of her forthcoming training, all thoughts of branding temporarily pushed to the back of her mind. This, evidently, was to be her and Aimee’s first real lesson on the way to becoming what Madame had called ponygirls. Judging by the whip, it was going to be a very painful experience for both of them.

Madame nodded and Jason attached short reins to both bits, then led the two at a steady walk around the track. Tamara’s full breasts swung slowly as she walked, promising to make a fine sight at a trot or a gallop. Red’s smaller, though still shapely bust showed a lot less movement, though the quiver at each step looked promising.

After a few rounds of the track, Madame ordered a halt while Red was made to kneel at the fence, where Jason tethered her with a rope leading from her clit-ring. Turning to Tamara, he substituted a long thin chain for the short rein that was attached to her bit. This would reach comfortably from anywhere on the track to the centre platform. Smiling, Madame picked up the chain in her left hand and a long thin carriage whip in her right. „Right then, Red,“ she shouted, „I want you to watch Big Tits carefully!“ she ordered. „You will be expected to perform in exactly the same way afterwards.“ She looked expectantly at the kneeling girl and lifted the carriage whip threateningly.

„Understand?“

Red turned her head carefully so as not to jerk her tender pleasure bud and nodded.

„Unnnngh,“ she drooled from behind the bit in her mouth.

Madame addressed Tamara in the same tone. „When I crack this whip, you will start walking as before. When I crack it a second time, you will start trotting. First you will learn the slow trot where, at each step, you will be required to lift your thigh to a horizontal position. Failure to do this will be punished with the whip across your buttocks; repeated failure on your more tender or sexual parts. A slow pull on the rein is the signal for slowing down to walking pace or to stop.“

Sudden panic seized Tamara, yet she was powerless to act. To disobey the whip-wielding Dominatrix would be the height of folly. With a muffled cry she started forward, but was at once jerked back by the cruel bit in her mouth. „Wait for the signal, you stupid bitch!“ growled Madame.

Frightened, Tamara stood still until the crack of the whip ordered her forward. For the first full circuit of the sandy track, Madame let her walk and find her feet, but once the circuit was completed the whip cracked again, forcing Tamara into a ragged run.

Craaack.

A vivid thin weal sprang to life on one side of her horsehair bisected buttocks and, with a strangled scream, Tamara remembered the command and found her balance. Summoning all her willpower, she lifted her thighs up sharply at each step to a horizontal position, a movement that caused her buttocks and breasts to bounce most invitingly. She found the slow trot very hard to perform; the bit was painful and choking, her arms ached in their strained captivity and her breasts swung painfully against her chest at every step. She had never before attempted to run very far without the heavy beauties comfortably held in a brassiere and their weight now caused discomfort at each step. Halfway round the track, she almost lost her balance and was immediately rewarded with a sharp flick of the whip on her raised thigh.

„Keep those thighs horizontal and don’t stumble,“ warned Madame and Tamara plunged on.

After three more circuits the new ponygirl was panting heavily, but her performance was still good and Madame now began to vary her demands. A tug on the chain communicated the command to the bit in Tamara’s mouth and she obediently slowed to a walking pace. Almost immediately, though, the whip cracked its order for a slow trot once again. The sweating Tamara was bewildered for just long enough to earn herself a sizzling cut across her breasts, which stung her into action immediately. Trot ... walk ... stop ... walk ... trot ... stop. On and on it went for the following half-hour without any sign of a break until, at last, when Tamara was thinking she was about to die, Madame reined her to a stop.

The Amazon was congratulating herself with Tamara’s performance. She had revealed her strength, showed great promise and it was plain that she would soon be able to work long hours in harness. The dominatrix left the platform and went over to inspect the shaking girl who was sweating profusely, the beads turning into a little stream running between the large wealed breasts.

From long experience Madame knew that Tamara was neither completely exhausted nor really in a lather; she actually could have performed for a bit longer. She checked the shuddering girl’s heartbeat with the tips of her fingers. It was steady, although of course, faster than normal.

„Well done, Big Tits. That was a good start,“ said Madame, hypodermic ready in one hand, whip in the other. „Now open your legs! It’s time for your injection.“

Shaking with fear and exertion, Tamara had no thought of disobeying. Desperately, she did not want to feel the bite of the carriage whip again. Standing wide-legged she bit off a moan as the needle dug deep into the flesh of her inner thigh, feeling within seconds the subtle shift in her senses. Gradually her breathing became slower, deeper and, incredibly, she felt the stirrings of a powerful sexual desire. Embarrassingly, she could actually smell her own arousal.

Casually, Madame reached out to fondle her new pony’s pouting sex lips. Without even thinking about it, Tamara widened her thighs and thrust her hips forward for the touch.

„Good stuff, isn’t it?“ asked Madame with a smile, taking her hand away. „It’s what the doctor gave Red yesterday. Shall I tell you about it?“

Tamara just stood there, trembling with desire, quite unable to respond.

„I’ll take that for a yes,“ said the Dominatrix, holding up the hypodermic. „This is a little something originating in what used to be East Germany. The secret police used it a lot in their interrogations.“ She grinned at the helpless, very aroused pony girl.

Tamara, in the throes of sudden, extreme sexual desire, wasn’t really listening. Instead, she moaned and moved her hips lewdly, shaking her breasts and loins in a movement designed to offer them for caress or torture, or whatever Madame wanted to do to them.

The Dominatrix ignored the motion and continued with her little lecture. „The drug has an almost immediate brainwashing effect on the victim, making him or her pretty well incapable of disobeying any order given.“ She looked at the writhing Tamara and chuckled evilly. „One of its other quite unusual effects is that, as you are experiencing right now, the sexual faculties are enlarged to an extreme degree. Very useful in our line, I think you’ll agree.“

Tamara moaned again and thrust out her hips, trying desperately to rub her naked crotch against Madame’s thigh.

Craaack.

The sound of the small whip was startling, and echoed immediately by a muffled scream from Tamara, who now sported another splendid reddening weal right across her breasts. Almost before the scream had died away, Madame had reached out to cruelly twist the ringed nipples, the flesh painfully squeezed and twisted between her long fingers. „Wait until you’re told, slave!“ she grinned.

Tears welled in Tamara’s eyes, her panting grew even faster and harsher, yet still she managed to thrust out her breasts for the torture. Madame nodded approvingly and slowly released her.

Tamara caught her breath, her entire body shaking with helpless passion as the Dominatrix reached down to gently stroke the denuded mound and sex lips with one hand, while at the same time lovingly tracing the fresh weal across the well-presented breasts with the other.

„I hope you’re watching carefully, Red,“ she rasped. „This randy slut was once your lover, I believe. What do you think of her now?“

The little red head had indeed been watching the devilish degradation of her friend through tear-filled eyes. „Mmmmmm,“ she moaned, jerking frantically at the leash tethering her to the fence in an attempt to flee.

Alas, the whip is a harsh master and, after just five vicious lashes, the frantically squirming ponygirl was totally defeated. Nevertheless the whipping went on until a further eight lashes had been delivered, three on either side of the flowing tail and one whistling up between the kicking legs. Red clenched her thighs tightly together and reared up in another vain effort to protect herself, the intense pain in her sexual parts almost beyond any endurance. Madame, of course, had anticipated the reaction and changed target immediately, both the helpless ponygirl’s little apple-breasts leaping in agony under one more vicious lash.

Almost hysterical with pain and fear Red made one more violent effort to get away, but an agonising pull on the bit brought her to her knees, completely broken and sobbing.

„Take Big Tits back to her stall while I see to Red, please Jason!“ ordered Madame. „I think you’ll find her most receptive to the touch now.“

Jason grinned happily. „Yes, Madame.“

Back in the stable, Tamara looked back over her shoulder with wide, lust-filled eyes as Jason first knelt her down facing the back wall of her stall and then, brutally yanking out her tail, positioned her head down with hindquarters thrust blatantly upwards. Casually, he eased her legs wide apart.

„Tomorrow night is party night over at the house,“ he leered. „You and the other sluts will be serving, so you better get used to taking some real man-meat up your snatch!“

Annette, chained and bitted in the next stall, lifted her head and undulated her hips. „Nnnnnnng!

Nnnnnnng!“ she begged wildly.

„Be quiet!“ shouted Jason. „You’ll get yours later.“ He chuckled. „Lots and lots of it.“ He looked around at the girls in the other stalls, all kneeling to attention in the ritual slave position insisted upon by Madame Annaliese, and grinned. „That goes for the rest of you. Now all of you lay down and get some sleep! I don’t want to hear another sound from any of you. You’re gonna need all your strength tomorrow.“

With a rustle of straw, the other girls obeyed and even Aimee quietened immediately, though her lust-filled eyes remained fixed on the young black as he positioned Tamara as he wanted her.

„Doc says you like it up your ass,“ leered Jason. „That right?“

„Urrrrgh,“ she groaned. In that moment, she would have welcomed a penis, or even more than one, in any one of her three orifices.

„Well ok; you’ll like this then,“ he said, positioning his rampant shaft at the entrance to her rear orifice and slipping the head just inside.

For a moment Tamara froze. Trained as her asshole had been by the enlarging dildos, this was the first time she would actually take a live cock in it. Then the drug took over again and she widened her thighs even more and thrust desperately backwards, a deep groan escaping from her bitted mouth as she impaled herself helplessly on the cudgel-like stave taking the place of the ribbed butt plug her rapist had so brutally removed just moments before.

Jason’s penis, larger than any of the plugs she had earlier experienced, stretched her beyond anything she might have imagined. The gut-twisting sensation was sickening, yet in her drug induced passion she could only buck and twist sensuously on the impaling shaft, taking her black Master on a rapidly climbing trip towards his own nirvana as he slapped viciously left and right at the wealed hindquarters working away underneath his lunging hips.

All too soon he was finished and Tamara groaned pitifully as he withdrew with a liquid squelch from her abused bottom. Still, she had not climaxed yet the drug was even now driving her libido higher and higher with every moment that passed.

Despite his basic sadistic nature, Jason had some sympathy for the writhing blonde. He knew the effects of the drug well and part of a slave’s training was to get her body used to a daily fix of sex, thereby countering the pain. Lifting her to her feet, he positioned her with legs astride in the centre of the stall while he went to the tack room. „This is for you,“ he chuckled, returning with a metal stand which supported a large, banana-shaped double dildo. Grinning broadly at the expectant and almost grateful expression on Tamara’s strained features, he set it down so that it stood obscenely between her legs. With a leering grin, he adjusted it so that half of the larger shaft vanished into her pulsating vagina, the slightly smaller painfully into her already stretched anus.

„Stand still!“ he ordered harshly, as Tamara’s hips automatically began to buck and twist. He slapped her viciously left and right across her swollen, ringed nipples. „You only move when you get permission.“

Terrified, yet tremendously aroused at the same time, Tamara fought desperately to stand still as, for long moments, the naked black looked her over.

„Ok,“ he grunted at last. „You’ve earned it. Knock yourself out! I’ll be back in two hours.“

Feverishly, while Jason walked unconcernedly out of the stable, Tamara began working herself into a sexually stimulating rhythm on the impaling shafts while other nearby ponygirls and especially the big-breasted Annette watched jealously.

Tamara continued to grind away on the double dildo. The fact that Annette and the others were watching meant nothing. The drug was all-powerful. Despite what Jason had just done to her and what she was doing now, she was helpless to resist the powerful impulse to orgasm. The first one burst upon her even before the young overseer was out of sight. She hardly paused, beginning almost immediately to build towards the next, and the next.

Out on the track, Aimee was receiving her first lesson as a ponygirl. For a good half-hour or more, as with Tamara, she was trained in the art of the walk and the slow trot assisted by the very painful whip in Madame’s hand. Despite the fact that the girl was much smaller and less muscled than Tamara, Annaliese was not gentle with her. Aimee’s striped buttocks bounced under ever more frequent applications of the lash, her small apple-shaped breasts and ultra-tender sex mound, too, not escaping an occasional gingerer from the fearsome weapon.

Finally, Madame reined her to a halt and went over to check her physical condition. Like Tamara, Aimee had plenty of stamina and, notwithstanding the cruel treatment meted out to her over the past weeks, was still in reasonable physical shape. Sweat ran down her shaking body, but her heart did not seem to be unduly strained. The Amazon was pleased. It was not often that she had such good quality slave meat to work with. The two girls would make excellent ponies.

Meanwhile, though, there was the party to cater for. The two new girls could join the others and earn their keep for a change.

Prev Next