Dropping them neatly back into the normal routine to which they had become accustomed, the nurse entered Mina and Trisha’s stall in the morning and began the daily process of cleansing them internally. The two ponies complied with her wishes actually enjoying the process as the woman strapped them to the hoses, penetrating and bestowing upon them both a debilitating orgasm with the powerful jets issuing from the hoses into both their orifices.
There was something innately gratifying about being treated in such a way, of being effectively stripped of sentience and importance and their every action regulated and controlled. They had freedom to rebel and buck and fight as did any domesticated beast, and even though they knew they would be punished for it, the option was there and always tantalising their masochistic need for discipline.
The nurse finished her chores and departed, leaving the pony-girls plugged once more as they awaited the arrival of their owners.
Tethys and Oceanus appeared a few minutes later, once again clad in seductively modified riding outfits. Both wore tight white breeches with tall leather boots and a close-fitting leather vest with matching gloves. Riding crops and helmets tucked beneath their arms, they preceded a pair of slaves carrying saddles. The leather seats were of a far different configuration to those used for normal equestrian riding, for they were crafted in such a way that they could rest across the shoulders of a human.
‘Today we’ll be going out for a ride, slaves,’ Tethys informed them, ‘with both of you providing the transport, of course.’ She pushing open the far doors to expose the pens, where already several Nobles had risen to begin the task of training their mounts. There seemed to be more activity than usual, no doubt as preparations for the big party began in earnest, and those with private steeds sought to have their behaviour fully modified before the critical eyes of fellow guests fell upon the pony-girls they had created.
‘Saddle them,’ commanded Oceanus, putting on his helmet and adjusting it on his head as he wandered out into the warm sunlight. The smell of moisture was heavy in the air, the rains having ended some time during the night. The warm and sunny morning was coaxing a soft mist into the air from the wet grass, the shifting luminous veil skimming across the fields carried on a languid, pollen-scented breeze.
The saddle bearing slaves moved forward together, and set the leather seats across the shoulders of the pony-girls. Mina did not resist as the soft interior settled over her, running around the back of her neck and falling into place as a harness of straps was wrapped tightly around her body, affixing to her corset and bridle to ensure it did not come loose. A set of stirrups fell from the front, ready for the boots of whichever noble decided to mount her. Mina was tingling with excitement. This was the culmination of her transformation into an animal. She was going to be used as a steed, used to carry a dominant owner. Another human being was going to swing up into the saddle and ride her as though she were no better than a pony. The concept made her stomach flutter with excitement and her mind swim with libidinous desires.
The maids stepped back and Tethys grabbed her reins as her husband took hold of Trisha’s. The two pony-girls were then led out into the open air, their hooves sinking into the wet soil as their owners conducted a brief but thorough check of the various straps holding the saddles on them, pulling on a few to ensure all was in place and secure.
‘Down girl,’ Tethys ordered, pulling on the leashes so Mina wilted before her into a tight crouch. The dominatrix then swung a leg over her slave and settled into the sculpted arms of the seat, taking up her hat and setting it upon her head before getting a more effective grip on her crop. ‘Okay, up!’ she cried, hauling at the reins.
With a hiss of exertion, Mina pushed up with her legs, bringing herself erect and accepting the full burden of Tethys’s weight. The saddle made it much easier to carry her mistress on her shoulders, the soft leather soothing the areas on which the curvaceous form rested. It was a strain but also a distinct pleasure to bear her beautiful owner in such a way. The stretch cotton breeches clinging to the magnificent legs around her rubbed gently against her cheeks, the warm thighs entering her vision after clearing her blinkers. Her smooth crotch was against the back of her head, resting in the nape of her collared neck, pressed to her by the demands of the saddle. With every movement Mina made, she felt the satin folds of taut fabric brush against her, causing her to sigh with pleasure, her mind filled with the lingering image of her mistress swinging up and straddling her just like a pony, transforming her into a lowly beast.
Tethys’s boots were marked with soft spiralling lines of lingering moisture from the tongue that had cleaned them this morning, making Mina a little envious that she herself had not been able to perform the task. With a small shuffle, they caught the metal stirrups and stretched into them, pushing down to drag at Mina and ensure that she was kept properly under control.
‘Come on, slave, let’s see what you can do.’ She flicked her heels back to nudge her spurs into her pony’s hips. The sharp flash of pain made Mina squawk and pound her hooves against the soil. She bolted forward as the crop swung down in long arcs to savagely kiss her buttocks, smacking soundly against her cheeks as she ran. Yet Tethys’s weight upon her was a burden she willingly revelled in, the feel of being forced to support her mistress as she punished her goading her on, the harsh swipes to her bottom encouraging her lively trot.
With her world blinkered, the reins served to guide her more effectively, the pulls to the corners of her mouth steering her though the maze of pens and onto the grass. Mina could hear a second set of hoof beats behind her as Oceanus rode Trisha.
‘Come on, husband, you’re lagging behind,’ Tethys laughed, slamming the leather tip of the crop against Mina’s buttocks with more force, the hot lines being burning into the pony-girl’s bottom as she increased her efforts, forcing her body onwards. Her chest heaved against the corset, her breaths pouring over the bit as she gurgled with effort. Her legs were hot, the muscles taxed to their very limits as she continued to meet the demands of her owner.
‘I’ll beat you to the beach yet!’ Oceanus retorted with a merry shout, the sounds of the scourging crops and the pounding of artificial hooves nearly drowning out his words.
‘Maybe you’re getting fat!’ his wife taunted him. ‘Your laziness is putting too much of a burden on that poor sweet pony you’re riding and slowing her down!’ She steered Mina into the trees and towards a narrow path. The dirt track was occasionally obstructed by lush foliage, the vegetation creeping furtively back over it, stretching its green fingers to slap against the pony-girl’s leather-bound legs as she thundered past.
Mina gave up trying to negotiate her own route and placed herself totally at the whim of her rider. Turning her head, she let her eyes soak up the vision of Tethys’s white legs. Her hungry eyes devoured the image of taut material stretched over shapely limbs, and of polished boots brushing their sharp spurs against her flanks when she required a sterner means of being steered.
‘And Oceanus the Great takes the lead!’ he proclaimed with a jubilant shout.
Mina forced her head against the reins, defying Tethys’s wish that she not catch a glimpse of her left side where Trisha was being whipped past her, her nubile form diverted from the path and forced into the brush to overtake Mina. Oceanus’s crop danced back and forth, clapping against the girl’s bottom, driving her on towards victory. The undergrowth snapped and broke beneath her hooves as she negotiated the uneven terrain at a wild pace, desperate to meet the demands her rider was placing upon her.
A yank to the reins hauled at her bit, making the strut dig into the corners of her mouth. Mina emitted a whinnying sound of discomfort as control was once more taken from her, and Tethys’s crop became even more energetic in its lambasting of her bottom.
‘Come on, girl!’ Tethys barked, her arm bringing the weapon down with force and sending blasts of agony into Mina’s straining bottom cheeks. ‘Faster! Faster!’
Oceanus turned Trisha and drove her back onto the path ahead of Mina, her slender form running beneath the weight of her owner, her buttocks quivering in front of Mina’s eyes as she struggled to stay ahead of her rival. Squeaking beneath each cruel stroke of the crop, incensed that she was possibly going to lose, Mina fired her legs into motion, accelerating her pace with a groan of strain.
‘That’s it, girl!’ Tethys shouted ebulliently, overjoyed as her mount once more gathered fresh speed and began galloping even faster. ‘Come on, faster! You can do it!’
‘See you at the beach!’ Oceanus laughed, thrashing his hapless mount, demanding she keep up the mad sprint he required to stay ahead of Mina and his wife.
‘Come on, pony, you can go faster than this!’ Tethys growled, applying her own weapon with more celerity, fuelling Mina’s strength and stamina with lucid streaks of suffering.
With a mewling cry Mina threw herself forward, her body awash with intense sensations from her own efforts and from the rhythmic beating applied by her mistress. Defying the reins, she wove briefly into the undergrowth, half running on the path, half careening into the dense foliage seeking to snag her hooves and topple her and her rider to the ground. Ignoring the branches trying to bar her way, she drew level with Trisha and nudged her fellow pony’s shoulder. She adored Trisha, but there was no way she was going to lose this race. With another resentful nudge Mina started capturing more space on the path, running neck-to-neck with Trisha and demanding access to the path’s smoother terrain. The crops continued pummelling their bottoms, making them gasp and moan as they struggled to catch their breath.
‘You bloody cheat!’ Oceanus declared angrily, but there was an edge of amusement in his voice.
‘Out of the way, slowcoach!’ Tethys retorted, allowing Mina to fight for position by barging against Trisha and forcing the girl deeper into the vegetation lining the narrow path.
‘Come on, girl, move those hooves!’ he demanded, trying to force his struggling mount back against Mina’s aggressive physique, but the brief diversion into the undergrowth had pulled and dragged at Trisha’s boots, slowing her down a crucial fraction and letting Mina streak ahead.
Trisha jumped back onto the path and tried to keep up, chasing after her fellow pony as she furrowed her brow and chewed on her bit, applying her full fury and strength to the task of running as fast as possible with a man’s weight straddling her shoulders.
Mina flew down the trail, the feeling of being driven to such extremes making her giddy with satisfaction, her pleasure and pride accentuated by the torrents of adrenaline and endorphins pumping through her raging veins. With a growl of exertion and triumph she fired herself forward, pushing further and further ahead of Trisha, who was unable to keep up with her. Oceanus eased his use of the riding crop, obviously realising there was no hope of beating Mina.
The hard dirt of the trail suddenly gave way to soft sand, her hooves giving slightly against the new environment. The sun’s light glinted on the ocean’s rolling waves, the beach gleaming beneath the luminous rays. Trotting nimbly across the sand Mina was driven towards the sea, where the salt spray splashed her legs and belly, soothing the heat in them as Tethys finally allowed her steed to slow down.
Her heart thumping against her ribs, Mina walked through the surf and let herself be steered around towards a set of beach umbrellas and lounge chairs placed near the tree line. Her legs trembled beneath her, and exposed to the sun she felt her leather hide warming up fast as the waters of the ocean evaporated along with her perspiration. Her hair was damp against the back of her neck, and jewels of perspiration glimmered on her eyelashes.
Several men and women were relaxing in the sun, served by the chaste submissive slaves. Other slaves were bound with straps and applying themselves in different capacities to the pleasuring of the dominant caste. Some were curled up in tight balls on the sand so they might bear the feet of their owners, while some had a circle of glass on their backs upon which drinks and plates of food were arrayed, along with implements of correction.
Closing in on the hedonistic scene, Mina was driven aside by her rider towards a pair of empty lounge chairs. Two maids stood a step behind the reclining seats, and another pair knelt to attention before them, ready to accept the boots of the approaching noble couple.
A wooden post had been driven into the sand with steel eyelets placed around the top. The apparatus had been set near the chairs with a small trough running around the base of the post, the circular vessel currently empty.
‘Down,’ Tethys commanded, pulling at the reins until Mina lowered herself to the ground. The dominatrix dismounted, easing herself off the modified saddle with a subtle and elegant creaking of leather. She flicked the crop across her steed’s smouldering buttocks and drew her towards the post, where she then threaded the reins through the eyelets and tied a swift knot to secure them. A child could have picked the simple weave, but denied use of her hands, and unable to even lift her arms, the elementary knot constituted an insurmountable barrier to Mina.
Standing beside the hitching post, Tethys ran her hands down her pony’s heaving chest, delighting in her mount’s tightly bound curves. ‘You performed admirably, slave, I’m proud of you,’ she whispered, her finger pulling at Mina’s crotch strap and manipulating the plugs a little, making them rock gently back and forth. The sedate shuffling of her ribbed dildos caused Mina to stiffen and groan softly, relishing this slim but welcome reward for her efforts.
‘Such a sweet filly,’ Tethys crooned, continuing to play with the strap, making Mina moan, her eyes closing as pleasure flooded her. The soft pull of the intruders against her sex dissolved her thoughts and left only the growing need for physical relief.
‘But a vicious one,’ commented Oceanus as he led Trisha up to the same hitching post. The girl looked exhausted, her body quaking from the stresses she had endured in a useless bid to defeat Mina.
‘You’re just pissed I beat you,’ Tethys rebuked him fondly, continuing to toy Mina’s crotch strap as a reward for her victory.
‘And I suppose you think it was all due to your superior equestrian skills?’ Oceanus sneered as he tethered Trisha to the other side of the post.
‘Of course.’ Tethys raised her nose and waved her crop in a regal manner. ‘What else could it have been save my superlative riding ability?’
‘Well, next time we’ll trade ponies and then we’ll see who’s the better rider.’ He walked over to one of the inanimate tables, and taking up a tall glass of water quickly drained it.
‘Don’t pout, lover.’ Tethys let go of Mina’s crotch strap, and sidling up beside her husband, caressed his body with hers while he stood rigid and defiant. ‘I’ll let you have Mina on the way back if you really want her,’ she smiled, kissing his neck and then blowing softly against his earlobe.
Oceanus wriggled and laughed softly, giving away the fact that his dour temperament had only been an act as he turned and embraced his wife. They kissed lovingly, their hands wandering over each other’s alluring bodies as their steeds watched hungrily, increasingly aroused and frustrated by the fact that they were powerless to sate their desires.
The couple reclined in separate chairs holding hands, their fingers interlaced as they set down their riding crops and accepted drinks from the serving slaves. Putting their feet up on the living footstools that obediently crouched before them, they sipped the extravagant cocktails on offer.
‘Water our mounts,’ ordered Oceanus, indicating Mina and Trisha, and a dark-skinned female procured a plastic container of water and carried it over to the post. Unscrewing the nozzle, she poured the contents into the trough, filling it to the brim before returning to see if the noble couple needed anything else.
Mina and Trisha sank to their knees and began lapping up the crystal-clear water, which flowed cool and refreshing down their parched throats, a wonderful soothing delight. They drank as much as they wished over the obscuring bits, and then sat back and rested their weary bodies, lounged in the shade of the trees as their breathing gradually slowed and returned to normal.
Mina watched her owners relaxing beneath the umbrellas and folded a leg beneath her. Resting on her own shin, she slowly drew herself along it, rocking the crotch strap and shifting the dildos inside her. She could not gain enough motion to grant herself release, but she could enjoy this hesitant pleasure.
A serving slave clipped the ends off a pair of cigars, and once the two Nobles accepted them, she lit them, Oceanus’s first and then Tethys’s.
Smoking cigars, the couple talked idly, running over the events of the past week in low voices, relaxed and content.
Mina moved closer to Trisha, but the girl shuffled away from her with a sullen look, clearly still upset by Mina’s aggressive behaviour during the race. Feeling a little guilty, Mina pursued her, moving over and brushing up against her, but Trisha kept her back turned, refusing to meet her apologetic stare. Mina tried to offer her regrets, running her features across Trisha’s shoulders and pressing them gently against the back of her neck, trying to draw her out of her brooding mood. Making an effort to speak around her bit would have been more trouble than it was worth, the garbled outpouring inevitably requiring constant repetition to be understood. So instead Mina moved around and tried to assuage Trisha’s anger with her body language even as the pony-girl continued to ignore her.
Finally, she started succumbing to Mina’s efforts at reconciliation, and slowly turning back towards her stable mate, nestled against her nylon-coated cleavage, her eyes looking up at her with meek solicitation.
Trisha’s flickering smile made Mina’s heart leap with joy, and she straightened up to press her lips against those of her fellow pony. Exchanging their hampered kiss, they leaned together in the shade, feeling comforted by the presence of another body. They were partners in slavery, there for each other when they were not being made to compete, emotionally united by their submissive caste. Kneeling together, they marvelled at the beauty of the sea and of the tropical paradise nurturing them.
The sun was beginning to set, the mountain spreading its shadow across the island. The umbrellas and trees ceased to provide shade as the sun’s lowering rays slipped beneath their canopies, and a slight chill crept into the warm ocean breeze.
Two of the slaves knelt before Oceanus and Tethys, drew open the Nobles’ breeches and serviced each of them slowly and diligently. The orally skilled young women drew out the couple’s pleasure, making it last for nearly an hour as they savoured a relaxing ascent towards orgasm whilst enjoying the sensual beauty of their environment.
Finally, the couple broke free of the lapping tongues and sucking lips of the slaves and fell into each other’s arms, their mouths locked together as their tongues circled each other’s, their passion raging. Dropping onto the sand, Tethys bent over and allowed her husband to slide into her pussy from behind as he ran his hands up and down her back. Driving into her with murmuring growls of delight, he held her hips and ran his fingers across her bared and inviting bottom. The two ponies and the serving slaves watched with gnawing frustration as the two Nobles made wild love on the beach, indulging themselves freely before those who had no such option. Kept chaste and obedient, the serving slaves would have to earn their relief through subservience, while Mina and Trisha would have to wait until they were alone in their stall and free of the crotch straps before they could satisfy the heat of their lust.
Tethys tossed her head back, her mouth gaping as she groaned wantonly, feeling her lover swelling potently inside her as he approached his climax. Reaching down for her breasts, he cradled them in his palms and massaged them, his features tightening as his body stiffened and he drove deep into his wife as he climaxed, eliciting cries of delight from her.
He rested across her back for a moment, pressing her cheek to the sand, and then slipped out of her. The two Nobles held each other for a moment, then a wave of his hand beckoned forth the forgotten serving slaves.
The two young women eagerly crawled back towards the couple to resume their oral devotions and cleanse the sated Nobles, the act making them shiver with wanton ecstasy. Once they completed their task, they were brushed aside to await further orders as the couple rose and refastened their clothing, exchanging a final kiss before walking over to their mounts. Trisha and Mina promptly rose onto their hoofed feet as their owners approached.
The setting sun touched the horizon in a dazzling riot of gold and red, casting a purple glow across sea and island as rubies sparkled on the crests of the waves.
‘Down girl,’ commanded Oceanus, as he removed Mina’s rein from the post.
Settling into a crouch, she accepted the weight of the Noble as he swung into the saddle and drew on her reins to make her rise.
‘Do you want to race back?’ Tethys asked as Trisha strained to regain her feet, her eyes flashing with dismay at the prospect of another fight to try and beat the physically superior Mina.
‘No, it’s okay, let’s just take a nice wander, I’m in a lazy mood,’ Oceanus replied, his competitive nature seemingly put away for the day. His spurs nudged Mina’s hips and a flick of the reins urged her into a steady trot back towards the trees and the narrow trail.
As they made for the house and stables, Mina saw other serving slaves emerging from another trail to gather up the day’s leftovers. She could see the hunger on their faces, not for food but for the sexual release each prayed would come as a reward for having served well all day. Of course, she knew some would be receiving punishment for inadequate work, a treat that would be as welcome to them as the joy of climax.
The walk back to the stables was uneventful and pleasant as the forest darkened around them. Through the chinks in the armour of the forest canopy, Mina saw the first stars sparkling into view, and gathering strength as the blue vault of the sky faded to a deep and impenetrable black.
Their stables were opened and the nobles dismounted, patting the rumps of their respective steeds before departing and leaving them to the care of an anonymous slave who entered the stall holding a black tackle box.
‘See to them as we specified, slave,’ Oceanus told the girl as he tied Mina’s reins to the wall.
‘You both did well today, and you’ll find tomorrow easier as we’ll be taking a gig out for a spin,’ Tethys said. ‘Sleep well, ponies.’ She finished securing Trisha’s reins and followed her husband out of the stall, leaving the pony-girls alone with the serving slave, a tall, shapely young woman whose golden curls were pulled back in a chaotic ponytail. The lids of her cool grey eyes were rimmed with coal and her lips were painted a striking red that matched her long nails. Perched atop ankle-high boots, she walked easily on the stiletto heels wearing shiny black gloves that rose all the way to her biceps. Her chastity belt was polished to a mirror sheen that matched her collar, and she moved with a regal and easy grace, at one with her position on Poseidon’s pleasure island. And as she drew closer, Mina noticed a small fixture at the front of her belt, the inch-round socket raised slightly from the surface of the steel band.
Unfastening Mina’s reins the woman pulled them in, drawing her towards the wall until her collar touched the heavy metal band. A looped knot fastened Mina in place, keeping her on her feet and unable to bend over or sit down. Her crotch strap was then opened and pulled free, and the swift extraction of the dildos made her gasp.
The same ritual was performed on Trisha, leaving the two pony-girls trapped on either side of the stable, unable to reach one another, let alone grant the relief each so fervently craved after the evening’s arousing displays of passion.
The woman then opened the metal latch on the box she had brought and raised the lid. She extracted a set of surgical gloves and slid her painted fingernails into them, snapping the sheaths efficiently in place and interlacing her fingers to ensure they were fully stretched.
Next she took a glass pot from within the box, unscrewed the lid and scooped out a generous portion of a white gel. She turned Mina so her face was pressed to the wall, and working the slippery substance across both her hands applied the viscous ointment to Mina’s bottom. The cool touch of the thin latex gloves combined with the warmth of the gel simultaneously irked and soothed Mina’s burning buttocks as her welts rebelled against being disturbed but accepted the calming effects of the curative gel. The woman continued to smear the slippery substance across her contusions, causing Mina to lean against the wall for support as her grateful discomfort beneath the soothing ministrations lulled her into a hedonistic stupor. Then the skilled fingers began working the greasy substance more forcefully into the crease between her bottom cheeks, driving through her buttocks to rub it against her sphincter. Mina lowered her defences, unclenching the muscles of her anus to permit ingress, and the fingers instantly slithered into her.
At first only one digit slid into her bottom, making her sigh with contentment. Then it withdrew and was joined by another, and then another. The bunched digits rocked into her as one, diving almost to the knuckles. Mina pressed her breasts against the wall, sighing with pleasure as the forceful hand penetrated her.
The extremities emerged and moved a little, locating her vulva and passing the gel across the moist lips of her sex. A moment later a pair of fingers thrust, eliciting a whimper of joy from Mina as two more fingers joined them. The slave rammed her hand up into Mina, making her ride the firm cone of her bunched digits, inflicting flashes of duress along with a warm, deep pleasure. Mina’s blissful sighs grew deeper, and were interspersed with soft groans of rapture. Murmuring and moaning wantonly, Mina felt herself being worked gradually towards orgasm, the piston-like action between her legs gathering potency and making her giddy with expectation.
The hand withdrew abruptly, cruelly deserting her. Mina cried out with disappointment and writhed against the wall, her final release slipping through her fingers even though she clenched her legs together in an effort to catch it and make herself come.
The woman returned to her ordinary chore of soothing the havoc in Mina’s welt-striped bottom, and then she gathered up a fresh handful of gel and moved over to Trisha. Applying her medicinal remedy, she began penetrating the pony-girl’s well-flogged buttocks. Mina turned around to watch the show as Trisha rode the bunched fingers of the slave, her lithe body jiggling softly as she was forced to endure the delightful purgatory of a hand plunging into her rectum. The woman continued teasing her for a while before finally switching to a different orifice, and Trisha literally sobbed with rapture as she was worked towards orgasm, unable to resist the allure of it despite the awful foreknowledge that she would be deprived of a climax in the end.
She mewled miserably when the woman retracted her latex-sheathed fingers and moved away. Garbled pleas for her not to stop spilled over her bit, the gagging implement rendering her desperate words all but incoherent. Mina suspected Trisha had fallen into a trap instigated by their owners. The woman was probably there to tease them and test them on how well ingrained they were into the pony caste.
‘Ponies do not speak,’ the woman declared. ‘They perform and do as they are told, without question, always.’ She smirked, overjoyed to see one of them fail so she could exercise a little dominance; Trisha murmured something in her defence, further compounding her offence.
‘You continue to speak, pony-girl? I was ordered to punish anyone who tried to speak, and I can see I have ample justification in applying the full discipline to you both. Yes, I’m going to make your fellow pony suffer with you. She was good, she didn’t speak, but because of you she’ll suffer just as terribly as you will.’ Leaning down, the woman removed a leaden orb the size of a tennis ball from the box. The globe had a single hoop set upon its surface from which ran a long, slender chain. The links extended for a few yards and then broke into two shorter lengths, both of which culminated in a clover clamp.
‘Now, little pony, I’ll escort you to a discipline chamber where you’ll be taught the price of disobedience all night long. Won’t that make tomorrow’s venture fun for you both? A nice night of distress before more exercise.’ She chuckled and stepped towards Trisha.
The pony-girl panicked and started bucking, fighting the tether at her collar and kicking wildly to keep the woman away from her, obviously terrified of the clamps in her hands and the burden to which they were connected.
‘Bad pony!’ She backed off, and pulling a small tawse from the box thrashed the leather strap against Trisha’s cavorting legs. The steady smack of leather rang through the stable accompanied by Trisha’s stifled moans of distress as she was thrashed for her defiance. The woman chastised her with vicious strokes to her thighs, stinging the untouched regions again and again until Trisha was rendered a whimpering wreck hanging nearly limp from her collar.
‘Are we done?’ the woman demanded coldly, and skimmed the weapon across Trisha’s rosy flesh once more. The beaten pony-girl gurgled apathetically. ‘Good.’
Mina was determined to be utterly compliant, for she had no idea what sort of terrible things this woman might do should she follow Trisha’s rebellious example. Already she was destined for a night of suffering, and even though she was looking forward to it in a strange way, she did not want to compound her misery. On the other hand, she was curious to be rendered helpless to this beautiful woman’s cruel intentions, whatever they were, so the seductive notion of doing as Trisha had done crept temptingly through Mina’s masochistic psyche. The denial of relief in orgasm had left her full of a dangerous hunger, one that was threatening to eclipse her reason and making her seek that which she might not be able to endure. But right now she did not care if she could endure it or not; she wanted to be tied, bound and punished, helpless to the woman’s vicious ministrations.
‘Now keep still or I’ll beat you some more, pony-girl.’ The blonde slave moved towards her and shoved Trisha’s slack legs open. The clamps swung in like steel hawks and snapped to a generous portion of flesh, taking her labia in their firm jaws and holding tight. The application of the devices made Trisha jerk upright and whimper in distress as the compression to her most tender parts continued unabated as her reins were removed, leaving her free of the wall anchor.
‘You can walk to the chamber now, pony.’ Her tormentor flashed the tawse across Trisha’s well-chastised bottom.
Gurgling deep in her throat from the pain of the clamps, she lurched forward, only to have the chain snap taut and tug at the heavy burden trailing behind her. Trembling with the effort she managed to drag the heavy orb after her, the metal globe moving slowly as she towed it with her sex, the squeeze of the clamps increased by the pull on the chain. Whimpering in torment, she gradually made her way to the door, each step a hell of suffering monitored by the jubilant blonde slave.
‘Watch this well, pony, because you’re next,’ the woman warned Mina. ‘Come on you,’ she barked at Trisha, ‘I haven’t got all night.’
The scraping of the metal ball faded along with the sound of uneven hoof beats as Trisha forced herself out into the corridor and to some unknown arena of chastisement. The time during which Mina awaited the return of the woman was long and full of angst as she wondered what was going to be done to her. And what psychological effect would the discipline have on her afterwards? Would the woman push her beyond her ability to find pleasure in the pain? Yet whatever was done to her, Mina was confident she would find the strength to relish the ordeal, no matter how humiliating or intensely difficult it proved to be.
Finally, the sound of high heels approached the doorway and the woman reappeared, her eyes glinting sadistically. ‘Mm, that was fun,’ she purred, stepping forward with the chain and ball that had been affixed to Trisha’s labia. ‘And what’s best is that I get to do it all over again now.’
Mina kept still and allowed her legs to be parted, refusing to give the woman cause to inflict additional harm. She stiffened and moaned as the first clamp took hold of her nether lips, and gave a whinny of agony as the second grabbed her tender flesh, wringing the sensation from it as it imparted a deep, arctic throbbing that surged up through her loins.
‘There, now, come along, pony-girl, and let’s see how you respond to the treatment I gave your partner.’ The woman removed Mina’s reins and slapped her rump with the tawse. Mina staggered forward, and gave a yelp as the slack vanished from the chain and the weight suddenly hauled at the clamps clinging to her vulva.
‘That’s it, pony, get moving.’ She subjected Mina to a hot flash of encouragement across her rear with the tawse. With quaking steps Mina moved towards the door, the weight dragging across the floor pulling at her sex lips and making her shudder with the stress of towing it behind her. The tawse snapped across her bottom yet again, and again, in whimsical strokes that kept her moving at a steady pace.
Gasping and wheezing with the effort, Mina chewed on her bit as her eyes filled with tears, and flowed down her cheeks into her mouth. Trudging drearily onwards, her sex aflame with biting sensations, Mina was abruptly halted by the woman’s voice behind her.
‘Hey pony, back here!’
Mina turned to see the woman standing a short distance down the corridor next to one of the doors she had passed. Scowling with irritation she turned around carefully and started back the way she had come, resentfully trekking across ground she had already covered to satisfy the spitefulness of what was in all reality just another slave.
‘There.’ She smiled, and opening the door let Mina trudge blindly into darkness. Once the burden of the ball was in the room, the woman closed the door behind her and flicked on the sombre lights, revealing the chamber in all its nebulous glory.
The exact dimensions of the room were lost in the darkness. Only a single spotlight shone from above, firing a stark beam down onto the site of their duel torment, leaving the rest of the chamber draped in shadows. A stone slab evocative of a sarcophagus rose from the centre of the space, a smooth marble table with a hollow indentation, and lying within this shaped trough was Trisha. The sides of the interior groove bore a layer of black latex, the inflatable sheath pumped full of air so it pressed to her body from the sides and against her back from below, holding her body in a pressurised embrace. The top of the table was a glass panel, allowing Mina to see Trisha’s body crushed against it, her breasts flattened. It was as though her friend was sealed inside a skin-tight coffin with a glass lid against which she was hopelessly pressed.
The glass tabletop bore several apertures, none of which served any function other than causing further distress to the entombed pony-girl. Abrasive rope wound around her corseted waist and rose between her legs, the chafing length spilling through one hole to rest coiled on the outside of the table unattached to anything.
Two more holes were drilled through the glass at the level of her breasts, letting her nipples peek through, each sensitive teat captured by a clamp from which hung a slack line of cord with identical clamps on the other end, awaiting application somewhere - and Mina knew where.
The last hole in the table was the largest, leaving Trisha’s nose and chin exposed, her mouth stretched open, her bit removed so a squat candle might be thrust into her maw. Two small strips of tape ran over her cheeks to hold it in place, the wick as yet unlit.
With Trisha in bondage, her eyes wide with dismay, Mina noticed the other portions of the table that would obviously incorporate her own physique, which would make her and her fellow pony-girl wreak havoc on each other through no fault of their own. Finally, running around Trisha’s head were leather trammels, the stern restraints open and waiting.
‘Come on, you,’ the woman barked, using the tawse to drive Mina over into the stern light. The clamps were set free and Mina jerked with the sudden detonation as her nerves screeched their protest at having been abused so by the voyage.
Dragged up onto the table, her knees were placed by the uppermost corners and the restraints positioned there were set to her upper calves. Her shins were run parallel down the sides and caught in the fetters, leaving her legs spread wide as she knelt above Trisha’s face and the candle, the waxen sceptre aiming frighteningly towards her loins.
Unable to resist, Mina had her collar snagged by the remainder of the crotch rope. Gaining insight she burbled and struggled, trying to free herself as the woman started to forcefully haul at the hemp line. Mina whimpered as she was bent backwards, her spine and neck stretching against corset and collar as the back of her skull was towed down towards Trisha’s garrotted vulva. Twisted into an agonising pose, the rope was tied off, leaving Mina and Trisha in a dark predicament.
The spare clamps reached up and around to snap themselves to Mina’s nipples where the cord was tightened to a thrumming tension, connecting them both by this mordant towline.
‘Goodnight, girls, sleep tight,’ laughed the woman, lighting a match and applying it to the wick. Mina felt the heat swell against her pudenda and inner thighs and she shuddered with calamity, releasing startled and terrified squeals against her bit as she heard the woman walking away. The door slammed shut and the light that dazzled them vanished, leaving them with only the golden aura of the candle as illumination.
The horror of the position became immediately apparent and they knew it would only get worse and worse.
If Mina tried to ease the agonising twist on her back as she was forcibly bent over, she would cause the rope to chew and chafe against Trisha’s tender belly. Similarly, any shift of her torso would drag the clamps against both their breasts, escalating the effects with even the slightest twitch of her body, for already even a deep breath lifted her ribs to a degree that applied a marked increase in their travail.
Trisha not only had to endure the compression and complete crushing of her form as well as whatever Mina’s plight added to her woe, but also, the candle that would have her jaws pounding with duress was filling with wax and slowly withering in height. Any struggle brought by herself or Mina’s fight against her bondage would shake the candle and have it spill its scorching fluids onto her tender lips. And all the while the burning wick was abusing Mina’s loins, punishing them with a steady heat that constantly tempted her into trying to evade it, the shift of her body prompting new levels of physical dismay in both of them.
The hours drooled by with lethal sloth, making them wail and quiver, wracked with anguish as they surrendered fully to their ordeal. Mina groaned and moaned as her back continued to bloat with a pulsating strain, her body bellowing for her to straighten as all feeling was driven from her nipples leaving behind only the dull cold throb of the clamps that sent cramping chills throughout her upper body.
The rawness of her hindquarters as they were buffeted by heat became more maddening with each second, the infuriating attack of the torrefying waves hideous in their relentless assault of her.
Seemingly for the balance of the night they were left to the horrible punishment, all time dissolving as the only things they became truly aware of were the various punishing additions to their cruelty-wracked bodies.
When Mina heard the door open, they both instantly ceased the dark grumbling moans that continually poured from their parched throats and listened intently for clues as to who it was. Then the light burst on, blinding them both with its potency.
The sound of heels approached and Mina felt a hand trail along her excruciatingly arched front. ‘Having fun, my dears?’ asked the woman, returning to the scene of her crime after numerous hours of this abuse had elapsed. ‘Have you both learnt your lesson?’ she continued, coaxing wailing affirmations from Trisha and sobbing agreement from Mina.
‘Good. But you’ll have to earn your freedom, and it’ll all be up to Mina here,’ she added, stepping beside Mina’s tear-streaked and flushed face, studying her distress at close range, her eyes having accustomed to the intense glare of the spotlight.
‘Are you up to that, Mina? Would you earn a reprieve for you both by showing obedience that this little filly couldn’t?’ she asked, taking hold of the crotch rope and yanking at it, riding it stridently against Trisha. The girl below her spasmed and squealed in almost infantile tones, Mina’s struggles having left her womb raw and tender, the rough jolt of the woven length now bringing unprecedented suffering.
‘Or would you rather leave her to suffer, I wonder? Pay her back, because after all, you are only here because she fucked up.’ She was gloating over their ordeal, teasing them with the offer of release, making the position suddenly much worse as the end was placed in sight but not delivered.
‘Would you like to earn freedom, Mina?’ she again questioned, watching with satisfaction as she nodded as best she could against the efforts of collar and contorted backbreaking bondage. ‘Good girl.’
Walking aside, she blew out the candle with a single puff and pulled it from Trisha’s mouth, letting the girl finally find relief from its trespass. But it was not for long, for a large dildo was taken up and forced back in its place, making Trisha gurgle and retch as it was shoved rudely in.
‘Now, you bite to this and don’t spit it out or you’ll be spending the rest of the night here,’ warned the woman, and moved to release Mina’s clamps.
The moment they were set loose, Mina flung herself against the rope responsible for holding her down as her teats screeched their hatred of the crushing jaws of the clamps. Jolting in fits, she endured the steady process of recovery from the abuse, her breasts pulsating with waves of aching pain. Once she had settled, the woman started to unfasten the crotch rope from Mina’s collar. Mina tried to straighten up but could not, her long confinement having crippled her responses. With a shove the woman assisted her, doubling Mina up with a croak of mayhem, the flares down her spine and through her stomach a sudden and fierce sensation. Shaking in recovery, she felt her shins being set free and she was brought down off the table to stand on wobbly legs, her senses reeling from her punishment.
‘Now, I want you to ride that dildo for me until I say stop,’ ordered the woman, standing to one side with her arms folded, her eyes lowered as she looked up and down Mina’s body. ‘Can you do that?’
Mina nodded her assent as she turned and looked at Trisha, her mouth yawning wide to hold the plastic rod, her cheeks and lips streaked with dry wax.
‘Well, get on then,’ snapped the woman with irate tones.
With a spry flurry of movement, Mina climbed back up onto the table and lowered herself over the shaft. The rounded head brushed her loins, revealing a thin sheen of lubricant upon it that eased entry. Tensing against her uniform, she groaned with wanton lust as she felt the large shaft fill her, riding deep and making her quake with elation. The long period of her pains and her secret masochistic relish of her ordeal had left her yearning for some pleasure, and now that she was able to help herself, she was exceedingly amicable to it.
Lifting herself up, she brought herself to the tip and then slid back down, shuddering with glee at the wonderful feeling. The woman moved in and tied the crotch rope about Mina’s waist, making the strand grind against Trisha with every piston jump of her partner’s torso on the toy.
‘Quicker, bitch!’ growled the woman, making Mina accelerate her motions, riding up and down against the rod sheathed in her comrade’s maw. Thrusting her belly against the air, jerking upon the shaft, she rode it with haste, the plastic javelin darting in and out of her womb. Mina wondered as to Trisha’s thoughts, what she must be thinking as her belly was rubbed by the harsh rope, her eyes filled with the image of Mina’s hindquarters dancing upon the rod emerging from her mouth.
Gasping with joy, Mina felt herself dribbling moisture down the pole, the lines trickling down to Trisha’s supporting mouth. Heedless of Trisha’s ordeal, seeking only to sate herself and free them both, Mina continued, feeling a climax starting to gather.
‘That’s it, girl, come on, I want to see you climax,’ hissed the woman, her voice corrupted by voyeuristic lust, her breath swift from licentious craving inspired by watching Mina’s salacious form riding a rod sheathed in another pony’s maw.
Mina cried out onto the air, letting loose her answer to orgasm as she bounded and jerked upon the length, her body quaking, rising to fight the rope about her waist, her body shivering and doubling up as she continued to try and extract all the bliss she could before she could take no more.
Slowing she settled onto the phallus, lowering until her rear was resting on the glass, the point of the rod pressing to her depths, her sex just touching the lips of Trisha.
‘Any reason you’re stopping?’ demanded the woman, revealing that this deed was no act of generosity, but a further punishment she would have to endure. ‘I don’t recall telling you to quit. Ride that pole or you’re both for it!’
Gritting her teeth Mina recommenced her motions, shaking as her constant shuffle upon the upright phallus bore heat to her innards, making the membranes ache and then start to burn as time continued. Once more she managed to climax, but after that her sex was reviling the simulated coitus too much to permit any pleasure. Stiff and tensed against her bonds, Mina screwed her eyes shut as she sought to endure the distress of her own self-inflicted abuse, bouncing on the rod as the woman watched.
‘Okay, that will do,’ the blonde eventually stated, making Mina sigh with relief as she extracted herself from the accursed length and stepped back to the floor, her pudenda sore, the flesh vexed by the unnaturally prolonged ride. ‘Get off.’
They were both released from their bondage and escorted back to their stable, the clamps mercifully forsaken for the return trip. Clipped back onto their anchoring reins and wall fittings, the woman laughed scornfully and shut the door, leaving them to huddle together and soothe each other’s sense of resentment and loathing of the spiteful slave.
With the usual repetition, the nurse attended them in the morning, entering their stall and leaving the two ponies clean and fresh.
Their owners stepped out into the doorway, ready for the day’s activities. Tethys had adorned herself with a set of leather shorts, the polished hide armed with a dual fastened zip that plunged through the crotch all the way around to the back. Wearing the same tall riding boots, the footwear had again been tongue polished earlier, the residue of the slave responsible for the task still marked upon the dark jet surfaces. A studded leather choker encircled her throat, and a strapless bra gathered her breasts and forged a plunging cleavage with made-to-measure cups. Short gloves covered her hands, the fingerless affairs allowing her black nails to emerge, her palms closed around a riding crop.
Oceanus was clad in a similar style, with the same riding boots, shorts, and gloves worn for the trip. His bare chest remained unadorned, his skin starting to gather a little colour from the sun, after having been denied it for a lengthy time because of their undersea environment. Twirling his own crop he approached the two slaves and unfastened them from their anchors, capturing both their reins and leading them out, their bodies brushing against one another as they tottered forward on their hooves.
Taken across the corridor to another of the featureless doors that hid all manner of locations from view, Tethys opened the portal for them, allowing them to be escorted into a small garage. Here a pair of phaeton-style carriages awaited, aimed towards the ascending metal shutters on the other side.
Both phaetons were slender, the open four-wheeled contraptions formed from varnished wood and gleaming steel. The carriages themselves allowed two red velvet seats to face each other with a pair of small doors stretched between them on either side. The doors were marked with the trident symbol of Poseidon, decreeing their heraldry with pride. On the front two corners, beside a driver’s seat, were glass lanterns, the antique style updated with an electric bulb rather than an oil wick.
Two steel arms reached forward from the sides, the arching limbs diverting aside and connecting to create a bar where eyelets were welded into place in readiness for the entrance of a pony. Several dense leather restraints were set upon the steel, the buckled harnesses open and waiting.
A young girl, her head sealed in a leather hood, was furled at the side of the carriage in a tight ball, her face to the floor, her thigh-booted legs curled tightly to her. Her arms were locked together beneath her in a single triangular sleeve of leather that anchored itself with hoops about her shoulders, the twin circles linked by another strap across her shoulder-blades to prevent her from acquiring any hope of sloughing off the restraint.
A stringent corset of black hide compressed her form, the presented back fitted with a plate of boning that made the surface more flat and stable to be trodden upon. The living step also wore her chastity belt and a steel collar, the band about her throat connecting via a silver chain to the rear of the coach, declaring that she was a fixture of the carriage, a piece of furniture who served whomever made use of the vehicle.
Another slave stood to the side, presented at rigid attention and bearing a wicker hamper. The woman was an archetypal maid, but one crafted from fetishistic allure rather than practical household servitude. A short dress of black latex ran down her body, gathering her sedate curves and extending down her arms, the tight sleeves sealing her hands within added gloves. The high neck rolled over her collar, where a slit at the front allowed her D-ring to emerge. Her long bleached-white hair was tied back into a firm plait, with a small cap of rigid latex fixed firmly into it. A white apron, the rubber fitted with a lace frill around the front was part of the dress, the large white bow at the back a fanciful addition. Bleak burnished leggings fell into ankle boots, the laced footwear perching her on tall heels.
Her slender features were servile, her eyes lowered as she awaited her orders, trained in submission to attend the whim of her dominant charges. She was a striking vision to behold, for since her arrival Mina had seen very little of the comprehensive rubber encasement with which she had become so enamoured. The image of the maid, locked within her skin-tight cell of a uniform, roused the slumbering hunger for such attire, reminding Mina of how much she relished the feel of it encompassing and compressing her body like some insidious living entity.
Oceanus showed them both to the front of the vehicle and led them under the metal arms. Tethys joined him in securing the trained girls to their posts, the restraints being quickly buckled and secured to their humble forms. Mina deserted herself to the feeling of being bound, to the steady gathering of weight upon her as the various bonds were tightened to squeeze to her form. Clenching herself against the crotch strap, she held to the trespassers in fits, giving a little struggle so that she might encourage a touch of discipline while she was being trapped for service.
‘Stay still, Mina,’ growled Tethys, the demand causing her to dwindle her efforts but not stop them. ‘I said stay still, pony!’ she barked, and brought the crop onto her rear, connecting both cheeks with the strut, making her stiffen and give a sob of reply before sinking more amiably into the arms of the coach. ‘That’s better,’ commented the woman, adding the finishing touches.
Their hands had been removed from their corsets and re-secured to the arm before them, spread apart a little so that their limbs provided some assistance in holding the main bar. A larger strap had reached around their waist, hugging them to the bar, the band resting comfortably upon their backs, making decelerating an easier feat as the main centre of pressure upon them would come from it. Acceleration, however, required them to shove with their hands or use their stomachs against the thick front bar.
Their reins were threaded over them and taken to the driver’s seat, the small perch already armed with a slot for a long lunge whip to ensure the two women were kept under control.
‘We are done, slave,’ decreed Oceanus, tugging on the straps to ensure all was secure before walking to the side of the vehicle. The maid moved forward and opened the door for them to enter, bowing as she did so. Oceanus stepped onto the humble footstool, his weight making the girl sigh with pleasure, her desire to be used running as an extreme thirst that took any opportunity to ease itself.
Tethys followed, and as the two Nobles settled into the comfort of the interior, the maid closed the door, bowed again and retrieved the hamper. Slotting it onto a small ledge at the back of the vehicle she ran two straps over it to ensure the ride did not dislodge it, and returned to the driver’s position.
With the soft murmuring creak of stretching latex the girl slid onto the perch and accepted both sets of reins in one hand while taking the whip in her other. The footstool arose and walked to the back of the phaeton, standing patiently, peering through the two small eye-slits that offered her a meagre view of her depraved world of hedonistic excess.
A touch to a remote control caused the motors of the door to chug into stuttering life, the whine of strain preceding a deafening clatter of metal as it was hoisted up onto the roller above. The segmented steel bands rose, permitting light to pour through the growing aperture, letting their eyes accustom to it before they were dazzled by the brilliance of the day.
There was a soft whistle of displaced air and Mina yelled onto her bit as the tip of the whip flicked forth and snapped against her rear. The intense jolt made her throw herself to the bar, thrusting with her arms as their reins were flung, the leather leashes jerking against their bits, making them dig at the corners of their mouths. Digging their hooves against the solid floor, they started to haul the vehicle forward, the process swiftly becoming easier as they continued their efforts. The whip attacked again, alternating between Trisha and Mina, applied without cause just to have them bolster their efforts.
Towing the vehicle out of the building, they found themselves on the paved area behind the stable, the small courtyard accessed by several other doors, proving that other modes of transport were positioned within the various garages.
The whip ordered them straight forward onto a slender road, the paving stones set close together to ensure a near smooth surface that their hooves clattered on as they were brought to a steady trot. The warm sunlight bathed their forms, banishing the slight chill of the interior, the exertion of their bodies helping heat them. The ease of their gentle run was a pleasant change from the full sprint that had been demanded before, and the burden of the carriage soon vanished as they merely kept adding to its momentum. Rapidly timing their strides to fall in unison, the uncomfortable jiggle against the bar began to fade as they grew used to working together and in anticipating the actions of each other.
The road drew them into the woods, the trees parting to let the path wind casually into their depths. Running upon the stone paving, Mina watched the lush scenery pass them by as she savoured the feel of being in her current diminished caste.
The sound of birds and buzzing insects arose to join the soft creak and squeal of the vehicle behind them, the soft purring murmur of their leather uniforms and the steady unified clop of their hooves.
The whip occasionally streaked forth, more to remind them of their station than to actually discipline, both of them starting to relish the sudden addition of intense fulgent sensation to their wiggling buttocks.
The branches that reached out overhead often broke to let streams of light descend upon them, their jog through the small clearings like a strobe light as they danced from shadows to glorious cascades. The smell of the forest was strong after the recent rains, the lingering dampness making the air succulent and moist, heady with the scent of flowers and life. Mina was elated by the voyage, feeling refreshed, satisfied, at peace with herself and her world. Only in the heady afterglow of a session with her owners or a similar agency had she felt so content.
The dense wall of trees began to thin, offering clearings and then small fields where the road rolled across some low hills, faint mimics of the mountain peak, each covered in an emerald blanket of grass.
A pull to their reins dragged their heads to the left, affixing their blinkered gaze to a side path. The paving continued for a short way as they dragged the vehicle in the new direction, leaving the main route behind. A mound of stones appeared beside the road along with various building tools wrapped in canvas to protect them from the elements. The unfinished task of building this section of road suddenly brought them onto the dirt track that had existed prior to the construction. The compacted soil was a little softer than usual because of lingering moisture, but it was still an easy terrain to negotiate, easier even than the trail they had been forced to charge madly down. Cresting a hill they saw the ocean spread out before them.
A drag to their reins pulled the bits deeper into their mouths, tugging their heads back. Mina moaned softly with glee at being so forcefully controlled, her fingers straining against their tight mittens as she savoured the moment. The strap against her corset pushed into her as the weight of the carriage shoved against them both, their hooves fighting the impetus and bringing the vehicle to a slow halt.
Standing on the makeshift road, they panted and caught their breath, the sudden end of their exercise leaving them deprived. While they recovered from the long trot, they looked across the stretched realm of leaves before them, the green sea moving suddenly onto a strip of yellow before surrendering to the vast stretches of ocean. After the barrier of reefs and sandbanks that surrounded the island and created churning areas of turbulent current and white surf, the other islands were visible. The crooked spires jutted angrily from the ocean, some of them little more than malformed rocks or boulders, while others had smoothed areas of jungle clinging to them, or were wreathed by a halo of golden sand.
A pull at the corner of her mouth turned her head left again, turning them from the sight and to the hill once more. The whip snaked out, raking its woven tongue upon their rears, the scorching kisses demanding their compliance. Straining against their harnesses they pulled the vehicle aside, drawing it onto the grass and along the hill. The grass gave a little underfoot, the soft carpet smooth and slightly slippery to their hooves, making their tread more careful and precise.
The reins again pulled back, drawing their heads against the rear of their collars. Their ponytails flapped against their spines and shoulders, wafted by the slight breeze that spilled over the hill. The wind rustled the sheet of grass, the slender emerald fingers beckoning them forth in undulating ripples of motion. The suspension of the vehicle shifted restlessly, making the arms that held the ponies move, revealing to the blinkered steeds that the driver was slipping from her perch.
The sound of the door opening was joined by sounds of movement as the passengers disembarked, employing the woman that had jogged behind them for the whole journey.
Their owners approached and appeared before the two steeds, both of their eyes now hidden behind mirrored sunglasses as they began to unfasten them from their posts.
Once set free of the carriage, their reins were removed and the maid furnished them with leashes, the short chains allowing the two nobles to keep control over their ponies. Removed from the arms of the contraption, their wrists were once more moored to their sides, and they were led to where the maid was busily preparing the picnic. A blanket had been laid down and the woman was carefully unpacking the food and drink from the hamper and arranging it in readiness.
‘Lay here, Trisha,’ ordered Oceanus, pulling down on the lead to have the girl stretch procumbent along one edge of the blanket. Using her as a long pillow, the two sultry nobles relaxed onto her body, their fingers idly tracing her leather-bound flesh as they observed the scenery.
A pull to her leash had Mina kneeling beside Tethys, her eyes lowered with respect, and also so that she might study the body of the woman, scrutinise the leather and the alluring flesh of her owner as she twirled a crop and held her leash.
‘I told you this would be the best place for a picnic,’ commented Oceanus, laying back, his elbows against Trisha’s corset, propping himself up on her as she lay docile beneath them, her face resting on the weave. Her eyes were closed and her breathing steady, her equable outlook on being used like this soothing her to an extent where she was drifting into sleep, making up for the previous night’s deprivation.
‘Definitely the best,’ whispered Tethys, setting her crop aside and leaning over to kiss him.
‘Slave, some drinks if you please,’ Oceanus stated absently, reclining onto Trisha as he observed the view.
The maid produced glasses, filled them with red wine and handed them to the two nobles before returning to the task of preparing the food.
‘And two bowls of water for our ponies here,’ added Tethys.
A pair of small ceramic bowls were filled with cool water and set before them both. Mina leant down against the confines of her corset, her bound arms unable to support her as she put her lips to the cool liquid and began to drink as easily as she could. Trisha’s task was a little harder because of her prone position, but the thirst they had acquired from the run had her make the required effort and drain most of the bowl.
Once the Nobles had taken what they wished of the picnic, they ordered the maid to pack away the plates and cutlery that had been used, which she did with her customary exuberance, enjoying her vocation immensely. Then Mina was suddenly turned from her vacant watching of the sea when her leash was pulled, forcing her to shuffle closer to the couple as they embraced and tenderly kissed one another. Tethys straightened up and pulled down, bringing Mina over her lap, her rear raised across the thighs of the woman, exposed and vulnerable to attention.
‘Such vivid marks,’ commented Tethys, running her nails gently against the pelt of Mina’s contused rear, the lines from the lunge whip pronounced and distinct against the older marks of discipline. ‘They must be quite tender,’ she added, pinching one of the effulgent lines, the increase in pressure on Mina’s sore rear making her wriggle slightly. ‘Mmmm, that’s what I like to see,’ she commented, rubbing Mina’s rear as it performed its enticing dance.
A leather-clad palm slapped Mina’s rump, the shock letting a slight pip of distress emerge from her lips. She stiffened for a moment and then settled, accepting another spank across her buttocks as the woman pressed the small of her back, holding her down to be ready for more. The palm dropped again and Mina moaned, elated that she was being chastised, the delicate pain arousing her immensely. Tethys continued, increasing the heat in Mina’s rear, the elderly bruises and fresh weals an incendiary force that helped magnify the temperature. She squirmed upon the woman’s lap, her cheek pressed to the blanket as Oceanus stroked the soft pelt of re-growing hair upon her head, the spiky tufts rustling under his soothing caress. Fingers ferreted under the front of her crotch strap and pulled, riding the shafts against her, causing her head to rise from its reclined position and release a licentious purr.
‘Ohhh, such a hungry little beast, isn’t she, beloved?’ commented Tethys.
‘Indeed, it seems our little Mina is ruled by animal passions, all caught up in being a beast,’ chuckled Oceanus, enclosing a fist to the base of her ponytail and pulling back, lifting her visage so he might kiss her lips, parted by the bit. ‘Maybe we should consider giving her some relief?’ he offered.
‘Perhaps, but are we really decadent enough to consider bestiality? I mean, this is a pony we’re talking about. Are we that disgustingly sick?’ She laughed, adding another trio of hearty smacks to Mina’s rear as they teased her with the prospect of release from her frustrations. ‘Mmm, I think so,’ pronounced Tethys, slapping Mina’s rear once more, bringing tears to her eyes as she strained her arms against the leather sleeves.
The buckles at the back of her crotch strap were opened, followed by the front so that the trespassing shafts could be removed from her.
‘Okay, girl, get that rosy bottom up,’ ordered Tethys, hooking a finger into Mina’s rear and dragging upwards, the sudden intrusion by a saliva-moistened digit causing her to gasp with shock and delight.
Raising herself onto her knees, Mina kept her face to the floor as Oceanus stepped behind her, opening his shorts and taking hold of her hips. Tethys gathered in the chain leash, keeping her fist tightly to the strand of metal, ensuring Mina was well aware of its presence, emphasising her submission. The head of Oceanus’s engorged length brushed against her aching loins, its passage bringing her to a quaking fit of expectation.
‘Steady, girl, steady,’ he smirked, teasing her, brushing her inner thighs, running the length through the valley of presented moist vulva, gathering the slickness along his length as she ached to feel him run the hot spear into her. She wished she could somehow manipulate her own sex, have it suck to his shaft and drag him in and give her that which she so fervently craved.
Tethys’s other hand reached under her and snagged a nipple, squeezing the erect teat in a firm pinch. A drawn moan poured from Mina’s throat as she felt the compression begin its customary menu of effects upon her, the deep throb starting to well within them, increasing as the woman slowly turned her hold, rotating the nugget with casual indifference to Mina’s gurgling moans.
‘I think she’s about ready, my love,’ smiled Tethys, pulling slightly against the nylon-sheathed flesh, and no sooner had the words been voiced than Mina threw her head up and unleashed a howl of bestial rapture as Oceanus drove into her, sheathing himself to her very limits.
Unable and unwilling to form words, Mina groaned in rhapsody as he held to her corseted hips, feeling the compacted nature of her waist as he thrust lethargically into her. Oceanus was taking his time, relishing the feel of her as she gripped and squeezed to his shaft, her legs trembling with riots of delight.
‘That’s it, dearest, make this pony whinny for us some more,’ uttered Tethys, with a lust-stained growl, tugging gently at the captive nipple.
Accepting the advice, Oceanus removed himself from her hot belly and instead pressed himself to her rear, the lubrication of her sex allowing him to part her anus and delve down into the furthest regions of her rear passage. Mina yowled with ecstasy, her head dropping back to the blanket as she sobbed and mewled in pitiful tones, overwhelmed by the feelings. She was lost to the intensity of him driving into her. His fingers sank into her buttocks, prying them apart, holding her open for him, her body unable to deny his wishes as he continued to intrude with regular precision.
Removing himself from her rear once more, Oceanus again plummeted back into her womb, lifting her from her knees, the battering ram of sensation that fired into her belly almost more than she could stand. His pelvis bounced against her proffered rear with each drive, Oceanus using her in full as her arms pulled vainly against their intractable bonds, her fingers trapped, her arms flapping uselessly as each breath fought the grip of the corset. Her maw ground upon the solid bit that marked her as their animal, lines of saliva running out to seep into the blanket as tears ran down her cheeks and joined them. Sobbing with pleasure, the dazzling flares of climax romping through her as she quivered upon his manhood.
Still unsated Oceanus continued, making Mina squeal as she was pushed further into ecstasy, her thoughts being scrambled by it until she felt him swell within her and then break into the chaotic fits of final release. She felt a distinct influx within her that spread and dissipated as more was added with his final quivering drives, stealing all the pleasure he could before slowing to a halt. Propped against her hips he paused a moment, capturing his breath, his hands clenching to her, relishing the feel of her nubile flesh still impaled upon him. Drawing free, Mina shuddered and croaked with the return of potent sensation, her body sagging as though his length were a vampiric force that had siphoned away her very essence.
Settling back onto the thighs of Tethys, Mina closed her eyes, breathing softly, her body flickering with an occasional spark of animation.
‘There, good girl,’ said Tethys, stroking her stubble, the backs of her nails running along the dark fuzz as Mina lay inert upon her.
She felt her hindquarters being manipulated and she groaned as the dildos were threaded back into her wetness, the buckles of the crotch strap being tightened.
‘Are we all packed?’ asked Tethys, as her husband massaged the leather bond, rocking the intruding weapons within their fleshy scabbards.
‘Yes, mistress,’ answered the maid, her voice soft but strained from having witnessed such an erotic exchange while remaining starved of her own relief by the belt and the smothering folds of her latex attire.
‘Shall we be off, my sweet?’ asked Tethys, turning to her husband as he sprawled on the blanket, stretching into the sun like a contented predator mulling over the full belly wrought by its latest kill.
‘Whenever you’re ready,’ he answered with little attention, his mind wandering through its stupor.
‘Re-harness our mounts, slave,’ commanded Tethys, reaching over and stroking the braided tendrils of her spouse as he lay with eyes closed, his hands behind his head, resting on them as he breathed softly.
‘Yes, mistress,’ certified the woman, taking up both sets of leads, pulling the two ponies from their positions and drawing them back to the vehicle. She worked with indifference, and fastening them back into place returned for the hamper, which she again placed on the rear of the phaeton.
Opening the door for the couple, the human footrest scampered into position and Tethys and Oceanus climbed back into the plush interior, making the conveyance rock with the new burdens.
The maid retook her seat and furnished herself with the whip and the reins of her steeds before whipping them back into activity. Mina was still in the heady afterglow of their coitus, and each sting of the whip was a further excitement to her sense of jubilation.
The carriage turned around and they drew it back along the dirt trail, pounding their hooves steadily to the earthen floor before riding back onto the paved road.
Once more upon the main route, Mina spied another vehicle heading their way, travelling closer with each galloping step of its paired mounts.
‘Whoa!’ demanded the maid as the passenger of the other vehicle waved to them, beckoning them to stop. The reins drew back more forcefully than ever before, making Mina sigh with licentious longing as her head was craned back, the bit digging in as the whip gave her a stinging bite of encouragement. Their hooves skidded a little on the stone as they fought the velocity of the carriage, stopping the vehicle.
‘Who is it?’ asked Oceanus.
‘I believe it is Lord Poseidon himself, master,’ answered the maid, familiar with the subtle nuances that would betray the identity of the imperious ruler of the island.
‘I wonder what he wants,’ pondered Tethys.
The fragile looking gig bore a soft seat, almost like a padded armchair, in which reclined the form of Poseidon. The man was clad in leather trousers and tall boots with spurs shaped like rows of tiny tridents. A close-fitting vest bore the same emblem of his heraldry, and studded bracers covered his forearms, his bared hands clutching the reins and a lunge whip.
The gig was led by two centaurs, the two arms of the gig extending forward and parting into a pair of forks that ran each side of the paired beasts, holding to them with leather straps.
‘Good afternoon, Tethys, Oceanus,’ began the Noble, drawing his steeds to a halt before Mina and Trisha, letting them study up close the intricacies of the centaurs. The women were panting from their run, their eyes full of tears from Poseidon’s liberal use of the whip to make them sprint.
‘Good afternoon, Poseidon. What’s up? Why the rush?’
‘I’m just taking these two out for a spin, get them more used to their lot,’ he answered lightly, giving a slight pull to the convergence of reins in his hand. The centaurs mewled as the delicate tips of their breasts were pulled.
‘New recruits?’ asked Oceanus.
‘No, they’re experienced ponies, but its their first week as centaurs,’ he replied.
‘Exquisite,’ murmured Tethys, with a libidinous tone as she beheld the anxiety of the doomed slaves. ‘They look wonderful, all distressed and confused.’
‘They’ll come to love it soon enough, they all do with the right encouragement,’ stated Poseidon.
‘You’re such a wicked slave owner, Poseidon,’ remarked Oceanus, chuckling.
‘It’s for their own good, really,’ added the ruler of the island with a grin. ‘They’re both very submissive, I’m just throwing them in the deep end, that’s all.’
Mina watched tears roll down the cheeks of the women, both of them clearly knowing it would be true, that they would indeed come to enjoy their lot, but only after hardship and grief, dreading the time of adjustment.
‘Mmmm, a wise decision,’ commented Tethys.
‘So how is the little filly I rescued for you?’ he asked, indicating Mina as she stood to attention, suddenly turning her eyes to him as she realised she’d been noticed. ‘That’s her, isn’t it?’
‘She’s been fine, exceeding every expectation... as usual,’ answered Tethys.
‘I saw her the other day, running wild and free with her partner there,’ said Poseidon with an ominous purr in his voice, his eyes rolling over Mina’s form as he revealed that he had spied her on their recreational excursion. ‘And quite a sight it was...’
‘Why the sudden interest, Poseidon?’ quizzed Tethys, seeing where he was going with his line of conversation, that he wasn’t just exercising some novice steeds, but after something concerning Mina.
‘I’ve a favour to ask... a somewhat big one,’ he began, his words considered, placed delicately, tact being of prime importance in his mind.
‘We are in debt to you already for rescuing her, what do you wish of us?’ replied Oceanus, careful not to rashly promise anything.
‘As you know, I’m trying to organise my Pegasus project for the party. Hephaestus has forged the outfit, and it works fine, but I’m having extreme problems finding someone who can fill it,’ he explained, his tones even, hiding his exasperation.
‘No one?’ said Oceanus. ‘I thought you had been preparing possible candidates for months.’
‘Indeed, but they’re not shaping up, they just can’t handle the demands of the costume. If half of what they whisper about Mina is true, she could well prove to be the salvation of my dignity.’
‘How so?’
‘Word has spread about the unveiling,’ he revealed. ‘Admittedly some of this is due to me circulating hesitant rumours to build interest, and its going to backfire terribly if I don’t come through with it.’
‘I see,’ said Tethys.
‘I don’t follow, you never made any definite proclamations,’ interjected Oceanus, puzzled by Poseidon’s concerns.
‘People will be flocking here to see this event, and if he doesn’t provide it his standing could be gravely affected,’ explained Tethys. ‘I mean, all those weeks of decompression to come to a party just to see this Pegasus, and it’s not here? No one will give credence to Poseidon’s accomplishments again for years.’
‘Precisely, so I’m in considerable jeopardy and I’d love to try Mina for the Pegasus project, if I may,’ stated Poseidon. ‘I’ll return her straight after, I swear.’
‘Hmmm, what do you think, dearest?’ asked Oceanus.
‘We’ll consider it on the way home and let you know there, if that’s okay,’ replied Tethys.
‘That’d be fine, I wouldn’t want to harass you into a decision before you’d thought it through,’ replied Poseidon, offering them every courtesy and refusing to tug at the favour they owed him, even though lending them Mina would not only erase it, but place the Titan deeply in their debt.
‘In that case, we’ll see you back at the stable courtyard,’ announced Tethys. ‘Driver,’ she added, causing the maid to snap the reins and apply her whip to Mina and Trisha, hauling aside to turn them onto the side of the road and around Poseidon’s vehicle. A series of sharp applications of the scourge brought them to a trot, where the clatter of their hooves hid the softly muttered conversation as her owners deliberated Mina’s fate.
Could she handle the rigours of the proposal? It was a tantalising notion, that someone had basically laid down a gauntlet, challenging her to be able to master the straits of the costume. She could prove herself better than any other slave and earn the right to announce such to all as she soared forth over a party that would comprise the assembled powers of the global conspiracy of perversity that was Cabal.
‘We agree,’ said Oceanus, handing Mina’s reins to Poseidon.
‘Only until the party is over, then we will of course want her back,’ added Tethys, ensuring that there was no misunderstanding between them.
‘Of course, of course, thank you, I will let you know how her progress goes,’ beamed the man, pulling on the reins and bringing Mina in his wake. Blinkered as she was, she was unable to even look to her owners or Trisha as she was led down the grassy path between stable and main building. Her angst was a small distraction, for she knew she would be handed back after the party, so she was not going to be lost from her owners forever, just a short break to try something new and spectacular. Plus, it would make them even more envied once people realised that it was their slave who had provided Poseidon with the raw material necessary for his prototype’s test flight.
The man led her to the large set of double doors providing entry into the main complex. The interior was climate controlled, the sudden change bringing riots of goose flesh across her form, causing Mina to quiver as the air-conditioned breeze stripped the tropical heat and the fires of her run from her body.
She found herself in a large entrance hall, the architecture formed of an older style, capturing the opulent extravagance of old English mansions. The white stone walls were inlaid with emerging pillars, the baroque floral designs that were carved into them marked with intertwined naked forms, following Poseidon’s interest in iniquitous vice.
A set of wooden double doors stood on either side, with another directly before her. Two majestic staircases rolled up the sides of the hall and curled round on a steady curve to create a balcony, the stone banister smooth and supported by squat columns shaped like curled naked females, their faces blank as though hidden by hoods.
A corridor ran beyond the wall atop the balcony, a row of four vaulted openings allowing passage through, each one incorporating Poseidon’s symbol in the carved stone crest above them.
From the lip of the balcony hung draped banners that repeated the motif, gathering the impression that this could be the home of some military leader who brandished the symbol of his might everywhere he could, instead of portraits or works of art.
Her hooves clattered upon the marble flagstones and then were silenced as they moved onto the elaborately patterned rug covering much of the floor. Escorted beneath the right stairwell, a plain metal door was presented to her, the surface like a faded mirror, reflecting a hazy image of her in the pony costume to which she had become so used. The image of her in black leather and white skin, bound and controlled, seemed almost detached from her true self, the outlandish nature of her appearance catching her by surprise. It was still a shock because she so rarely saw it; she had enough trouble seeing what was around her, let alone her own reflection.
Placing his hand to the side of the portal, their was a click and a light poured through the masked surface of the wall, running a vertical beam down his hand, assessing the ridges and whorls of his prints. With a series of muted clicks the door slid back, revealing an elevator, the interior a solid construction of polished steel akin to the front door. Drawn in, the door closed behind them and they began a steady descent into the bowels of the island, leaving Mina to staring blankly into the distorted image of herself in the interior door.
There were no buttons, no controls, no indications as to floor; this conveyance went to one place and one place alone - Poseidon’s secret den.
They slowed to a halt and the door slid back, revealing a small hall, the walls, floor and ceiling covered in polished black marble slabs of shattered paving, the jigsaw-patterned decor roughly placed together with white mortar to hold them in place and contrast them.
In the corners of the chamber, upon small pedestals, were bound women. Each was shaven bald and tied with the use of thick latex straps into a tight ball, huddling them upon a black marble pillar. Slender pipes wound into their mouth and chastity belts, furnishing them with food and waste management, removing the need to ever remove them from their isolated doom. Faced down, their backs were adorned with numerous candles, the waxen stems of black drooling their midnight tears across the forms of the living candelabras, offering the image that the women themselves were melting. The cumulative glow of their candles bathed the corners in a warm amber hue that spread reluctantly upon the mirror-like panels of obsidian coating the rest of the room.
A pair of doors was located in each of the other walls; the mahogany doors without handle or lock. A pull to her reins led her out of the elevator and across the room to one of the doors on the left. The wooden sheet slithered aside at Poseidon’s approach, exposing a sizeable rectangular chamber decorated and lit in the same manner as the previous room. In the middle was a magnificent statue of black marble. The rearing form of Pegasus threw out its wings, dominating the room, an awesome and striking sight, the sculptor having captured perfectly the awe and majesty of such a wondrous beast.
Escorted past Poseidon’s obsessive goal, a door beyond moved aside and revealed the workshop where he was trying to bring his dream into fabulous reality. The chamber was bedecked in walls of technological equipment, much of which still remained on, exposing itself and its neighbours in the soft coloured glow of its private lights. As well as the array of computers and design equipment required to run through schematics and produce workable models and blueprints, there were tools for heavy-duty mechanical construction. In addition there were also the tiny assortments of apparatus needed for micro circuitry and cybernetics, the elaborate collections neatly placed along various workbenches amidst half-finished parts or pieces undergoing checks and scrutiny. It was beyond state-of-the-art, and was hoarding advances to itself that Mina had been waiting to receive before her assignment to the Charybdis project and her betrayal by Jupiter.
A dark shape lurked in the middle of the room, covered by ample shadow, the light from the other room and the machines that had crafted it doing little to expose their progeny. Flicking a switch, Poseidon revealed his masterpiece.
The uniform was presented on a female mannequin. The artificial woman was bent over, her arms turned into a set of forelegs by constructed sleeves that formed into hooves. The white latex suit that encompassed it covered the dummy entirely, even turning the face into the extending snout of a pony, the stylised image an ivory form with silver glass eyes.
At the body a pair of wings emerged, the articulated appendages spread wide, the skeleton of steel within allowing them to be retracted or spread at the command of the wearer or another agency.
‘This is the Pegasus suit you are going to be tried for, slave,’ attested Poseidon with a smile, looking only to his inanimate offspring. ‘Come, let us get you out of that uniform,’ he snapped, flinging himself from his mesmerised wide-eyed look across the ivory form of the mythical hybrid.
A yank to her reins turned her from the image and towards another door, whirring gently aside to expose a smaller chamber beyond. The room bore a low bed, the soft mattress without sheets or pillows and of strange dimensions. Lit by several overhead bulbs set in the ceiling the chamber had no other features save a metal hatch in the wall behind the bed, and a treadmill set in the floor to one side. The long and wide corrugated rubber roll extended from the wall for three yards by three yards, with a metal hatch to one side, the locked panel hiding the controls as several riveted rings hung against the wall directly before the broad treadmill.
Two maids were already present, the women clad in lingerie. Both were shaved bald, even their eyebrows removed to give them an eerie appearance. A white satin basque hugged their bodies, taking hold of fine denier albino stockings that plummeted down their shapely legs into court shoes with a silver buckled band about the ankle. Their dagger-shaped fingernails were painted white, and a slender thong of snowy satin embraced their loins.
‘Strip her of this uniform, slaves,’ ordered Poseidon.
The women worked quickly and deftly, and in moments Mina was utterly naked, the pony attire that had encased her for so long a forsaken opaque skin on the floor. The maids withdrew to either side of the door, standing like sentinels as Poseidon wandered about her, assessing and scrutinising.
‘I am impressed,’ he commented. ‘Normally a prolonged spell as an eel would reduce a girl to a feeble wreck. You must have worked marvels during your decompression to recapture such a physique.’
‘I only seek to please those who own me, master; what use would I be as a weakened wretch?’ she replied humbly, having trouble with the words after her long silence, the removal of the bit and her uniform breaking her state of being no more than a mute beast.
‘That was considerate of you, though I more suspect you did it out of fright of the unknown—’ he began, cutting of his words as he saw Mina stiffen a little with injured pride at having her courage questioned. ‘My apologies, I phrased that poorly. You had no clue as to who had captured and taken you from the ocean. You were just seeking to be prepared.’
‘Did I do wrong, master?’ she replied, watching his boots pass by her again, the man circling her still as they talked.
‘Definitely not, such a feature will serve me admirably. If you want to be able to handle the Pegasus uniform, you will have to show the same sense of diligent dedication. I have a whole stable of psychologically and physically shattered slaves. They will recover in time, but I need someone far hardier than a normal woman, I need a veritable living machine to be my Pegasus, someone who can override her instincts, push herself to the limits of mind and body and then exceed them. Is this you, slave? Or have I made a miscalculation?’
‘No, master, I can do this for you, if you wish it,’ she answered.
‘Oh, I most certainly wish it, slave,’ he said, placing his hands on her shoulders, his palms running on the smooth flesh, his fingers tracing up and down her upper arms as she stood tensed before him. She could feel his eyes on her back, looking across her rear, her legs, her curves. ‘But you have to be sure, slave. This regime will be even harder than before because of the limits of time. If you are not up to it, you could well be broken by it. If you have any doubt, any second thoughts, even the most minor questioning of your ability, then feel free to decline with no reprisal. I would rather have you refuse than waste my time and disappoint me, and then end up aggrieving your owners by being returned to them a fractured mess.’
Mina turned around and faced the Noble, meeting him directly eye to eye in an act of sudden boldness. With absolute sincerity and no sense of exaggeration or false conviction she addressed her new owner. ‘I will succeed, master.’
Poseidon merely looked at her for a moment, their eyes locked, unblinking as he watched to see if her façade of confidence would show weakness or crack. Mina’s countenance remained like wrought iron, bringing a blossoming smile to the lips of the Titan.
‘Excellent, you have given me new hope, slave,’ he crooned, and moved closer, raising a hand and closing it about the nape of her neck. Drawing her in he met her lips and demanded a kiss. Her hands arose of their own volition and ran across his athletic form, caressing his skin, stroking and pawing as his free hand took up her breasts. Teasing each in turn his dextrous touch brought life to them, making the teats rise and her body shiver with elation.
She ran her lips across his chest, her hands closing to his trousers, blindly picking the fastenings and pulling them down, exposing a rapidly swelling member to her attentions. Settling onto her knees, Mina swallowed his length with reckless abandon, her hunger for gratification boiling within her. Closing her lips to him, her tongue flitted and danced on his tip, making him swell in her mouth, growing to his full size before her head began to dance back and forth, thrusting deep so that she felt him brushing the back of her throat. Her hands found new diversion in the soft caress of his testes and inner thighs, accentuating the sensual feast.
Her mouth felt him growing more significantly as he stiffened with imminent orgasm, whereupon the man pulled free, bringing her up to her feet. His length brushed against her thighs as he ran his hands over her breasts, tracing his fingers in whirls and spirals upon her.
A sudden turn span her about by the shoulders and he pushed her towards the bed. Mina rolled with the direction and flopped onto the soft mattress as the Noble removed his boots, bracers and trousers in full.
Naked, he climbed onto the bed and pushed her onto her back, acting forcefully. He drew her legs apart and grabbed her hands, lacing his fingers into hers and pinning them down beside her head. With sparkling eyes he watched her, guiding himself by feeling alone into her moist sex. With a pelvic jolt he filled her, opening her suddenly and entering deeply, causing Mina to arch her back, her mouth stretching wide with a silent gasp of rapture.
Holding her down, he kept his body above her by his grip, supporting himself on his arms as he thrust into her with slow relish. Mina locked her legs about him, the feeling of skin on skin adding to her delight. It felt wonderful to just be thrown down, held and ravished, no bondage, just control of her physique by another and her own willing submission.
Again the Titan dragged himself free, moving back and flipping her over onto her front. Mina offered some faint struggles of resistance as he took firm hold of wrists once more, and left herself vulnerable to the relish of having him use his strength to defeat the token offering of rebellion. Slamming her hands forward, stretching them high over her head, he placed the wrists over each other and used one hand to press down on both and capture them. The free hand took hold of his penis and guided it back into her, her parted legs shaking as he sheathed himself back into place, riding her, his hips slapping to her pert and welt-marked rear, reviving the bruises in soft murmurs of contused protest.
His hand rolled up her side, his nails presented to the skin to leave rosy scratches, prompting her to vent some soft squeaks at the grazing touch. The hand took hold of her mane of hair, enclosing a tight fist to it and pulling, her roots protesting vehemently as her head was craned back to its limits, lifting her breasts from the mattress, revealing her gasping face. Heady kisses adored her neck, the mixture of tender pecks and the stern haul to her scalp an intoxicating mixture of vivid sensations.
Continuing to ride into her, the hand fled her hair and cupped her chin before her features fell back to the mattress. He let fingers rise and enter her mouth, offering her them to suckle on, and Mina complied with fervour as Poseidon continued to ride her.
With such provocation Mina was jerking beneath him in climax in moments, her squawks of rapture spilling around his intruding fingers as he tightened his hold, keeping her captive as she cried out and broke into paroxysms. And when she felt him swelling with the approach of orgasm once more, she gained a repeat of the peaks of bliss, riding through her tumultuous pleasure before having it accentuated when his length spat warmth into her depths.
The holds upon her sagged slightly, and with a roll he collapsed at her side, the flight of his length folding Mina instantly into a spasming ball where she held to herself, fighting to endure the flares of sensation his departure had filled her with.
‘Bring me a collar and leash,’ ordered Poseidon from his sprawled position. Mina looked across to the door to see if it were her being ordered, or as was more likely, the maids. One of them opened the door, letting new sounds of activity emerge from the workshop, and as she was still in the process of leaving, Poseidon amended his words. ‘And one of my robes.’
Together they lay in recuperation while the maid gained what she had been ordered to acquire, returning with a silken gown embroidered with flowing dark patterns of the sea and the trident in burning emerald across the back. The collar was a leather-studded affair, like one would place about the throat of a dangerous hound. The chain leash was already in place and the whole ensemble was handed to Poseidon as he arose with a disgruntled growl of effort. Climbing from the bed he extended his arms so that the maid might slide the gown onto him and then tie the belt into place.
‘Come here, slave,’ he commanded, and Mina rose as well, stepping before him, her gaze lowered as he buckled the collar about her neck and ran the chain through his hand until he had hold of the leather hoop at the other end.
‘Come, let us see what’s happening, slave,’ he purred, walking towards the door, the maids following well behind as Mina was led from the room. She already suspected that this would be her quarters, the bed being of a right height and size to allow a pony-formed female to recline in meagre comfort when she was not being run on the treadmill.
Two older men in white coats were looking over the Pegasus uniform. Wearing gloves, masks, hoods and protective glasses they were obviously being careful to ensure nothing contaminated the mechanism. The wings were currently open and exposed, the white rubber skin peeled back as though being dissected, revealing the delicate interior. Drawn closer she looked across the array, her eyes assessing and identifying the components within from personal knowledge and intense study of the subject.
‘Evening, Poseidon, who’s the new girl?’ asked one of the men.
‘She’s the new hopeful; I think we may have found our pilot for the party,’ he replied, scrutinising what they were currently working on. ‘Still trying to improve the deployment mechanism?’
‘Yes, it’s not easy, but we’ll get there. What we really need is a pilot who can handle this. You think she can?’
‘If anyone can, I believe this girl will be able to.’
‘She’ll need amazing reflexes if we can’t improve the control ratio,’ he added, lifting a new section of rubber hide to expose more of the wing anatomy.
Mina looked upon the interior, rising to tiptoe for a better view. Frowning, she regarded the older parts being deployed, ones she was well aware could be updated. Secret advances were being tested in the field of fibre bundles that she knew from personal experience worked well enough to rely upon for this type of duty. Such creations were not unlike artificially grown muscles, save they were many times stronger than their organic counterparts. Tiny impulse generators would make the responsive bundles contract, acting like a cybernetic nervous system, creating wings that could work better than versions nine times their size if these engineers stuck to the clumsy and current means to control them. Poseidon had to have access to the relevant technology, his devotion to finding a pilot slave diverting him from upgrading the design from its initial specifications. She didn’t want to embarrass or seem as though she were boasting, but she could seriously assist the project by applying her own considerable knowledge.
‘May I speak, master?’ she asked softly, all eyes turning slowly to her with befuddlement, wondering what she could possibly be about to say. Mina noticed worry in Poseidon’s eyes, clearly afraid she might withdraw her consent to be the test pilot for his prototype.
‘What is it, slave?’ he asked with trepidation.
‘Well, master, the wing mechanism you’re using is employing old cybernetic struts and outdated micro-hydraulics. They’re about a year or two out of date by now. I think you’ll find electrically motivated fibre bundles would refine your weight and drag coefficient and improve aerial dexterity as well as speed of response...’
After a moment’s stunned pause, Poseidon smiled and turned to the blank-faced engineers. ‘Is this true?’
The men shrugged and reluctantly gave some soft bobs of their heads. ‘It might work, but they’re still experimental at best,’ stated one, trying to exonerate their efforts, their pride wounded by the expertise a mere slave girl had shown.
‘But the main reason is time; we just haven’t enough to overhaul the entire design and replace everything except the basic skeleton,’ retorted the other, with more than a trace of indignation.
Poseidon looked at them with a dubious frown, and then turning back to Mina, he raised his eyebrows, offering her the chance to rebuke. She stepped forward and indicated the relevant areas as she spoke, the strangeness of a naked slave on a leash explaining details that were beyond cutting edge cybernetic technology to the scientists being one that did not escape any in the room.
‘Keep the original pulse generators; the fibre bundles use the same frequency parameters. Sharpen the output and response vectors and you can run the bundles in place of the hydraulics. It should be a fairly simple series of replacements providing you anchor the fibres directly to the superstructure rather than the hydraulic bases.’ She noticed another lapse in their design.
‘And look at this, you’ve used titanium pivots in the main articulated joints. These should be diamond-bored plasteel. Try any of the main centres of advanced metallurgical research in Alaska, they should be able to have the parts moulded the quickest, and while you’re at it, see about these fibre-optic control veins.’
‘Now we know those can’t be improved... slave girl,’ bitterly retorted one of the engineers.
‘Yes, but they’re carrying the entire data load. Use older strands; they’ll break it into smaller portions. Overall they’ll be quicker on reactions and use less room and be less heavy. The ones you’ve got would be ideal for something much larger, but they’re designed to carry heavy traffic. You need lines that are small and deft, working on a single response procedure, direct routes rather than larger, more meandering paths.’
‘Anything else, or would you like to take over for us?’ growled one of them, before being hushed by his more sedate comrade, this one less easily inflamed by the questioning of their work.
‘How the hell do you know this?’ he enquired, seeking to confirm her sources before taking her word as genuine.
‘I worked for Turan Incorporated until a short time ago,’ she replied calmly.
‘A secretary,’ accused the other man, folding his arms, his eyes glaring at her with contempt. ‘She saw it on memos or something.’
Mina didn’t care, she was above trying to boast, she knew what she knew, and she knew she was right. She wasn’t trying to impress them; she just wanted the suit to work properly, as best as modern technology could offer.
‘Slave, tell them what you did,’ said Poseidon with a drawn smile, revealing that he had all the information about her nefarious existence prior to Charybdis.
‘I was their operative, master,’ she said without inflection, addressing her current owner rather than those who were questioning her abilities.
‘What do you mean, “their operative”?’ ranted the agitated engineer, throwing his arms up in frustration before the other calmed him, placing a hand to his shoulder and regarding his comrade eye to eye with sudden gravity.
‘No, Jackson, she was the operative, as in one, as in...’
The eyes of the man suddenly widening with realisation as he followed the chain of words to what his partner was getting at. He suddenly became nervous, his eyes flitting to Mina, more than fear in them.
‘Oh, I see,’ he burbled, and quickly shifted away to lose himself amidst the hardware. ‘Well, that would, er, explain it. I’ll, erm, get to making the orders.’
‘A pleasure to meet you, miss,’ said the other with better-hidden anxiety, and after a curt bow he swiftly followed his companion.
They knew what she was, and knew what she did. She was the person people such as these dreaded. As employees who worked in the shadowy world of private and ultra-secret development, their discoveries moved power across the globe like the tides of an ocean. They created and manufactured discoveries no government would see for years. Scientists such as these were entities Mina had snuffed out on many occasions, snubbing their advances with murder to allow her paymasters the chance to beat the sponsoring rivals to the goal. A delay of mere days could offer billions in potential profits.
The men before Mina would have lived like she had - in hidden corners and pampered luxury. But also they would dwell in constant threat of someone like her coming to their lab or home one night, sabotaging, booby trapping, hobbling their efforts and perhaps liquidating those responsible for them.
Turan Inc was a global power, and as such it confirmed that Mina was one of the elite in her class, a ruthless professional right arm that extended outside the law to smash whatever Turan wanted out of its way.
Poseidon smiled and shook his head, leading her across the room and to the opposite door. Led through the separate room, she was presented to a slightly convex hatch.
‘Don’t worry, they’re the best in their field,’ said Poseidon, with an amused smile. ‘They’ve just been kept behind on the latest advances by their work here. I wouldn’t judge them too harshly.’
‘I meant no offence, master, I just thought—’
‘Don’t worry about it, you did the right thing,’ said Poseidon, removing her collar and lead. ‘If you’re suggestions work out it will make the Pegasus project more effective. Now, to the matter of your training. First, I’ll be testing your reflexes and stamina. If you pass these tests, you’ll be fitted with the basic uniform that you will then wear until you have earned your wings, so to speak.’
Opening the hatch and revealing the interior of a smooth white sphere, the large orb easily accommodated Mina, leaving her standing at its base, looking up at the ceiling and bland dimensions of the interior. The hatch closed and locked and she was left naked and alone within the test chamber. She could guess its purpose; the ball would spin and rotate, try and confound her ability to adjust to its ever-altering directions.
With a mechanised murmur the ball began to roll on the spot, bringing Mina to a slow jog along its base, her bare feet slapping softly upon the interior plastic surface.
With a smooth and swift deviation it rolled around until she was running in the opposite direction, moving quicker, making her accelerate to a sprint. Keeping focused to the task, she regulated her respiration and kept her mind and awareness razor-edged and ready to assimilate any problem the sphere threw at her.
For seemingly hours she ran around and around, the sphere drastically changing direction at random intervals. Sometimes it jerked to a halt and reversed, carrying her up one side. If she were not quick enough she would be toppled and rolled on the floor, but Mina had the celerity and agility that kept her upright. The programme continued to get more and more harsh, the ball hurtling around, changing speed, direction, trying with ever-increasing stress to defeat her.
It was a pleasing workout, the feeling of pushing her tolerances never ceasing to stoke Mina’s sense of pride in her own body. Dancing along the floor of the ball, her heart raging in her chest, alive with tingling heat from the exertion, she was possessed by euphoria as she battled the machine, pitting herself against it.
At last the sphere ceased movement, and with an agile twist she landed in a tensed squat, her balance tilting left and right, her senses confused by the rigours of the event.
‘Well done, slave, you did exceptionally well,’ stated a synthesised voice, Poseidon’s words corrupted by the hidden microphone he was using to address his imprisoned test subject.
‘Thank you, master,’ she panted, keeping her position and striving to once more fixate herself on what direction was what just in case he continued the test.
The hatch opened and Poseidon appeared, beckoning her out, her collar and leash in his hands. Once she emerged she accepted the symbol of her servitude, feeling wonderfully secure for the simple addition as she was led back out of the room.
Escorted through the chambers, she was brought to a fitting room. A black metal sawhorse resided in the middle, and a series of small black wood chests were placed to one side along with a plain chair. The corners flickered with the lights created by the candle-adorned female prisoners, the women hidden from their own source of illumination, their hunched forms squashed into the compacted and terrible fate of eternal captivity and use as no more than furniture.
Three glass doors were equally spaced on the left wall, each entering a white-tiled shower cubicle. The two maids from before were already present, standing on either side of the sawhorse, awaiting Mina with a grim intensity. Their lush forms still resided in the seductive lingerie and Mina’s eyes found keen arousal in studying them, her heart aching to run hands across the smooth materials, to touch and embrace the beautiful women, her exercise having roused her thirst for carnal experience once more.
Poseidon caught the fervour of her stare and smiled to himself, removing her leash and collar and indicating to the middle shower room.
‘Remove your clothes and clean and prepare this slave for her uniform,’ he ordered. ‘And while you’re at it, see to relieving yourselves, and her. I want your full attention on the fitting.’
The women looked to each other with jubilation, ecstatic that they would finally be able to end their frustration. Poseidon walked over and grabbed the chair, drawing it up and settling into it before the transparent pane that would allow him to view their acts. The women moved closer and began stripping each other rather than doing it themselves, taking pleasure in running their hands over the form of the other, fanning the flames of their swollen libidos.
Mina watched the erotic display of their teasing strip with glaring eyes, her mouth watering, her mind yearning to taste and feel them.
Once their bare bodies were exposed they sauntered over to Mina, their motions fluid and graceful, showing their curves off to their waiting and expectant subject. Taking her by the wrists they led her into the small chamber and turned on the warm flow. Twin jets from either side launched a soothing deluge of water across the trio, making Mina gasp with joy as she felt her perspiration being washed from her, the flows of crystal warmth causing her to shudder and run her hands across her slick skin. As she traced her breasts she felt other hands merge onto her, the women using cakes of soap. The suds flowed down with the passage of water, the bars slithering upon her flesh, her head draping back, her ponytail hanging as a limp tentacle down her spine as she moaned softly at the excellent sensations.
Hands parted her thighs and started to run up and down the inside, the soft touch causing Mina to sway with giddiness. In answer to her decadent stupor, the other woman embraced her from behind, her sultry breasts brushing Mina’s back, the nipples distinct against her skin. The assets slipped against her, the lubricating waters making them slither against one another as the woman’s arms rolled around her, caressing and supporting her, holding her up as the other female continued her task.
Lips brushed her neck, running down the wet flesh before a tongue started to lick at the water. The woman suckled at her earlobes, taking them in and gently nibbling upon the pliant morsels as hands rose and lifted her breasts, the thumbs tracing small spirals on the tips of Mina’s nipples.
Letting her head laze against that of the woman behind her, Mina left herself vulnerable to their every whim, the two maids filling their senses with the feel and taste of their subject.
As a pair of hands worked her inner thighs and rolled around to attend her rear in alternating sessions of cleansing and massaging, she felt a mouth kiss her sex. Rising onto tiptoe and shuddering as the warmth of the shower saturated her, the fingers dug in and pulled down upon her buttocks, keeping her in place as a tongue rolled like a plough through her vulva. Taking a long slow lick through the parted lips, the organ skipped upon her clitoris and departed, ricocheting from her. The single tickle almost dissolved Mina into their arms, the hands on her rear and her breasts keeping her stable as the woman paused for a moment, looking up across Mina’s heaving chest and smiling with glee before burying herself back between Mina’s quaking legs.
The frisky tongue worked with a marvellously deft effort, pouring its widest part against the sensual nugget, the waters that flowed down their bodies running a compressive caress over them all, emphasising and magnifying every touch.
Mina’s mouth spread wide, allowing tickling jets to pound her mouth, filling it with a pool of warmth that she let dribble from the corners as kisses once more took to covering her throat.
Treating her to such a luscious event for a short while, the women released her, manipulating her pliant form with quick movements. She was pressed face first into a corner, her cheeks against the wall, her gaze fixed on the shadows she cast into the tiles. Palms slapped her rear, holding the cheeks and pulling apart while pushing forward, holding her in the corner as a mouth dove through the parted flesh and poured a tongue into her anus. Mina sobbed with delight against the tiles as she rode the organ, the slithering length driving deep, thrashing against the muscular ring, penetrating, the sensation indescribable and intense.
As the woman licked her, the other female rolled onto her back and positioned herself between the parted legs of her partner, pouring her own efforts into detailed cunnilingus. Straddling the face of the supine woman, feasting on the feeling of such oral gratification, the woman’s tongue became all the more energetic and capable, gallivanting against Mina’s rear. One hand relinquished the task of holding Mina open and rose between her legs, the fingers starting to thread into her sex, using the waters to ride in before changing their mind. Instead, they began to beat small circles against Mina’s clitoris.
The woman grabbed her buttocks once more, using the soft mounds as handholds by which to demand that Mina pivot. Turning her around so that she was staring directly into Mina’s loins, the woman lodged her hands over Mina’s hips and pulled down, bringing Mina to her knees, their eyes meeting as waters poured down their features and dripped from nose and chin.
Moving closer their breasts touched, nipples grazing, the gentle meeting making both parties shudder with ecstasy. The taste of water slipping into their mouths as they kissed frenetically only added to the exchange, the wet kisses being wild and full of furious passion. Mina took the opportunity to help herself to a serving of the fellow slave’s breasts, her hands savouring the feel of another woman as they caressed, slick against the warm rain that pelted them.
The other female shifted beside them, her hands sliding between their closely pressed bodies, reaching between their legs and rising against both pudenda. The embrace and kiss of the women increased, the pair of them able to exchange their passions as they wished while being serviced by another. Moving from Mina to the other and back again, the woman drew out the exchange, the flight of her deft fingers allowing each to gain a moment’s calm before being worked back towards climax.
Acting together without even exchanging a single word, the woman before her pushed Mina aside, while the other pulled her in. She was drawn down, the woman pressing her back into the corner by the door, parting her legs wide and hauling Mina’s willing features between them. Mina buried herself in the smooth flesh, letting her tongue assault the woman’s pudenda. The taste of her was strong, even when diluted by the waters still raining down on them. Mina relished the meal, kissing and suckling, rolling her tongue into the woman with zealous dissipation.
The other woman grabbed Mina’s hindquarters, lifting her rear and sliding a leg between Mina’s own limbs. The woman’s knee found a place against Mina’s belly, the joint rising between the acutely spread limbs and using the wet floor to slide gently back and forth while simultaneously using the toes to wiggle against the puckered anus of the woman Mina was servicing. Hands again fell upon her rear, pulling the buttocks apart as streams of water bounced upon them, a tongue finding its way through the cleft and again tasting her.
Holding the hips of the woman before her, Mina quivered and continued to adore her sex, the female slave running her hands across Mina’s sodden stubble, assessing it before stealing a razor from the shelf. As Mina darted her tongue against the slave girl she drew the three-bladed implement across her scalp, leaving behind naught but smooth skin.
Even her ponytail was attacked, the razor running against the roots, severing the strands, leaving an uneven series of tufts that were then cut away with steady and careful strokes. As this deed was performed, she felt another razor working on her as well, the other woman using her position to blindly run the identical implement along Mina’s legs.
The feel of the knee riding against her, the tongue within her and the roll of razors and warm waters across her form as she feasted on another woman left Mina in a languid haze, her thoughts numb, filled with nothing save hedonistic indulgence and glee.
The female jerked and groaned, setting her razor aside as she finished her task and started to give in to the flashes of pleasure Mina’s tongue conjured again and again. Her hands clapped to the back of Mina’s head, forcing her deeper, smothering her as her thighs clenched to the sides of her face, holding her tightly. The control that was levied on Mina made her wilt with rhapsody, magnifying her efforts, her tongue becoming a baton that conducted an epic suite of ecstasy in the slave.
The hands on her head lifted once the woman had taken her fill of the attention and could withstand no more. Raising Mina’s face, she offered it to her lips, congratulating Mina with kisses, tasting the flavour of her own pudenda.
Her comrade removed her face from Mina’s bottom and started to finish her job in full, working her instrument across Mina’s sex, sweeping the blades through the cleft, taking her nakedness a step further, and once the task she was obligated to finish was done with, the woman turned her attentions back to sating a more primal need.
A bright clap shattered the gasping quiet of the shower as the woman dropped a palm onto Mina’s rear, the sound emphasised by the sheen of water coating the skin. The spanks came at random periods, the slave sending shocks of feeling into Mina’s bottom, increasing her pleasure as the fingers continued to beat small circles against her clitoris, working her towards release. Mina’s fingers clenched in fits as she was soundly spanked. The girl beneath her continued to diligently attend her fellow slave, the woman unleashing rasping gasps as her spanks were used to free her pent up sadism.
Mina started to tense and her moans and gasps started to gather speed, accelerating to a throaty groan until she finally erupted into paroxysms. Clasping tightly to the woman beneath her for support against the exquisite sensations, Mina rode through the climax, a finger continuing to work and conjure more and more against her belly. With her cheek pressed against the woman she wailed into the air, fighting the urge to fling herself away, unable to withstand such reckless straits of rapture.
Choking back their screams, the exchange slowed and finally came to an end, the parties involved each sinking down to lounge against each other or the walls, gathering their breath as they let the pounding rains wash away the sweat of their exchange.
After recuperating some hint of energy, they arose and turned off the shower. Running hands down their limbs, they wiped away the excess moisture and took hold of Mina’s wrists, before leading her out of the room. Curling tendrils of steam flowed from their hot bodies as they walked across the floor, leaving behind wet footprints and spattered droplets.
Poseidon was still on his chair, his face full of happiness at having watched such a teasing dance of lesbian passion. Without addressing them he turned about and continued to study them as the women produced towels from within a box. Running them over Mina’s form they soaked up the moisture, her complete lack of any hair making the process swift.
Once they had attended her, they left her to dry each other, and once this was done, they began to slip back into the ivory clutches of their lingerie.
‘You may proceed with putting your playmate in her uniform, slaves,’ confirmed Poseidon as they looked to him for new orders now that they were again fully dressed. Together they returned to Mina, her belly aflutter with excitement at being placed within the confines of rubber captivity one more. She had greatly missed the clinch of latex upon her, the squeezing embrace of the impermeable shell as it clung to her as an auxiliary skin, smothering, controlling, serving her up to the whim of others, rendering her little more than a helpless possession.
A rubber cat-suit was removed from the insides of a trunk by one of the women as the other used an open dish and a cloth to wipe talcum powder across her form, smoothing a pale layer of dust upon her skin to ease entry into the garment.
The women worked together, opening the back of the latex garment and helping draw it onto Mina’s body. The firm clinch started to swallow her form, clutching to her, compressing her, making her sigh with bliss as she was devoured alive by the vestments. How long would it be before her bare skin once more tasted air and light? It was an intriguing uncertainty.
‘This is your basic skin, slave, the rest will follow shortly,’ stated Poseidon, monitoring the work of his two slaves as they cocooned Mina, turning her from a naked sex slave into a rubber smothered pony-girl.
The sleeves rolled down to her hands, leaving them in fingerless gloves. The maids gathered clippers as soon as her digits were in pace, trimming them back and running a nail file against them to smooth the tips.
The zip was drawn up her back, enclosing the grip of the cat-suit more forcefully to her, squeezing her torso and pressing her breasts. Her feet were in moulded socks, the neck of the garment rising to her jaw, the zip terminating at the base of her skull.
Looking down she found that slits existed between her legs, while small apertures at her breasts let her nipples and aureole peak through. Plastic fastenings were attached in circles around her upper thighs and arms, the open fixtures revealing their purpose when she saw hoofed stockings and gloves being taken from another box.
The women drew her to the sawhorse, laying her along the padded top, her arms and legs hanging down the sides. The stockings were drawn up her legs, forcing her feet into the moulded stiletto hooves. The hem was peeled back and a layer of rubber glue drawn in a circle around the lower reaches before the latex was lifted back into position. The clips upon the rim of the stockings were snapped into the waiting clasps, holding them in place as the glue set and created a water and airtight seal.
The gloves were overtly long, the sheathes being glued and clipped to her arms, leaving her hands in an interior pocket, sealed tight within a moulded grip at the end of the sleeve. The garment continued down, the extra portion weighted and ending in another hoof, rendering her arms the same length as her legs, turning her more effectively into a genuine quadruped. With four hooves now resting on the stone flagstones of the floor, the garments for her head were gathered and laid beneath her.
‘I’m sure you remember this manner of gag, slave, so you know what to do,’ attested Poseidon as one of the deep throat-penetrating tubes was taken up and offered to her mouth. With complete compliance, seduced by her latex bonds, Mina let the woman feed it into her. The other held her down as she jerked and choked, her body reacting instinctively as it was violated. The slick device slithered down her oesophagus and the gag plate entered her mouth, opening up and capturing her teeth, setting her jaws wide and preventing her from spitting out the device. With her tongue trapped speech was crippled, and she wheezed softly through her nostrils while watching the rest of her transformation occur.
The sculpted solid mask of latex that was lifted up was of a size to fully encompass her entire head and neck. The long snout of a pony was marked with two reflective mirrors at the eyes, small perky ears, and a cascading white mane that absolutely contrasted the deep abiding black of the rest of her new skin.
The women carefully placed her head into the mask, where a sudden click sounded, revealing that the gag had been grabbed by inner mountings. Stretching the elasticised neck down over her throat so that it ran over her cat-suit, the two were glued together to ensure she was properly sealed within it.
The interior suddenly welled with life, the insides of the mask billowing out to squeeze her head, pressing from every direction to mould itself perfectly and tightly to her skull, making it impossible for any of her efforts to even budge her new artificial countenance.
Breathing through the internal vents that accessed the nostrils of the mask, Mina peered through the shaded eyepieces, watching the women as they brushed their hands through her mane to clear it aside and then brought forth a leather bridle. Unlike any other, this one was completely normal, her new face accepting the standard riding tack. The bit slid into her mouth, able to steer her just as easily by holding the front of her mask, and the leather harness was tightened to her head.
Reins were clipped into place and used to bring her off the sawhorse, leading her slowly forward so that she could experiment with her initial steps while still having the sawhorse to support her should she fumble the attempts.
Lifting her forelegs she set them forward, the hooves clopping to the floor as her rear legs timed themselves to keep up and maintain her balance. Her infant steps were unsteady and weak, but it felt glorious to be diminished so absolutely. She now resembled nothing more than a four-legged animal, a beast owned and controlled by others, without will or speech of her own.
Clearing the sawhorse she wobbled forward and was drawn to the side, where a new garment was taken up. The halter-necked leotard could be broken into two halves, the garment forged from a much more solid fabric, almost like rigid plastic. Two circular sockets existed at the crotch of the shell, ready to accommodate plugs or some other manner of intrusion into her body.
Setting her legs and arms through the apertures, the two slaves lifted them onto her body and pressed them together, the two sides meeting with a chorus of clicks. The leotard now squeezed her body, resting firmly against the strict hold of the cat-suit. Its sculpted collar acted like a posture band, lifting her chin and serving it upon a solid tongue, keeping her face upright.
Two translucent shafts of plastic were taken up, the separate rods formed as a hollow tube coated in a layer of the ridged jelly substance that Mina found so delightful. The rounded heads of the phalluses bore a cluster of holes that accessed the interior shaft and which would allow her to be pumped up or drained as the designs of her owner wished.
The apertures of the carapace on her torso and the slits in her cat-suit allowed them to slither into her, making Mina shudder and sway. The women quickly held her to ensure she did not collapse, her equilibrium still trying to acclimatise to the new form in which she had been moulded.
The two lengths locked to the fixtures so that she was completely sealed away from the outside world, all her bodily functions being handled by internal hoses.
A plume of snow-white hair was grabbed and clipped to the leotard at her tailbone, gifting her with a tail to match her mane.
‘Very pleasing, slave,’ commented Poseidon as he rose from his chair and walked over to where Mina stood, watching him through the reflective eyepieces. Hidden from view, she flexed herself against the confines of her new uniform, the strain of it already starting to rise, feeding her masochistic cravings, her loins squeezing to the soft outer layer of the plugging shafts.
Extending his hand, Poseidon was furnished with a small remote control that he took and examined before addressing Mina. ‘The uniform you wear has several other functions. For example, should you try and rear up, the sensors in the body shell will scold you for trying to break your designated caste. Such discipline can also be meted out at the touch of button, like so...’
As soon as his finger depressed a tab on the device, Mina screamed into the gag as her clitoris and nipples were savaged by voltage bites that made the skin erupt with scintillating pulses. The momentary jolt had her chewing on the gag, sobbing against her mask, pulling at her uniform, trying to get free of the attackers that were now her most intimate and immobile companions.
‘Not pleasant, but it’s a vital part of the uniform. It’ll help push you as far as you can go. We have scant time before the party, and I’ll have to drive you mercilessly to get you ready for it. You assented to this training regime, so you had better get used to the fact that you are totally under my control. If you do not perform as I require, you’ll be chastised until you do, it’s that simple. I will not tolerate failure in you, because I know what you are capable of. Any failure on your part will clearly be the work of laziness and rebellion and as such will not be tolerated.
‘So, let’s get you to your station and begin your training, we have much work to do before you’re ready,’ he revealed, moving away and using the reins to draw Mina along, her four hooves struggling to find order against their stringent bonds.
Walking awkwardly, but gathering new knowledge on what she could and could not do with each hesitant step, Mina was taken back into the bedroom where her naked form had been ravished by Poseidon - the very same female form that now lay an infinity of space away from the outside world.
Drawn onto the treadmill, her reins were attached to the wall rings, leaving her nose almost touching them, preventing her from getting off the apparatus.
The hatch was opened, exposing controls and several sockets. Poseidon took one of them and pulled it out, a long metallic segmented hose spilling behind it. The hose was fed over her bit and clipped to an internal fixture to provide her with food while she toiled.
Flicking a switch within the hatch, a more covert panel flicked open in the floor at the end of the treadmill. A telescopic pole started to rise with gradual speed, locking itself at the same height as Mina’s rubber encased rump.
From the tip Poseidon took more of the hoses, the coils spilling from the summit to pass between her legs and lock to the base of her dildos, ready to regulate her insides with their mechanised influence. ‘There, you’re ready for your lessons now, pony-girl,’ he testified, flicking another switch, slapping her bottom and then marching from the room.
Once the door had closed and locked itself Mina was left in silent contemplation, wondering what was going to befall her. Calming her thoughts and relaxing into the arms of her uniform, she looked blankly at the wall, waiting for her training to begin.
The belt beneath her started to move, rolling slowly at first, bringing her to a slow walk where she could practice using her complement of legs. Adapting as quickly as she could, she soon grew more confident in flipping a hoof forward, the sprung joint at her hands letting the rest of the metal-shod hoof thump against the corrugated rubber. The treadmill started to increase its speed, moving her from a slow walk to a swifter pace.
Her reins pulled back as she tried to accelerate, having difficulty changing her rate. When they tugged at the wall rings her loins were nipped with angry sparks of voltage, chewing on her most tender membranes to have her croak against the gag and bolster her efforts. As soon as she was meeting the speed of the treadmill and thus had taken the pressure from the wall anchors, the attacks of encouragement stopped.
Continuing the walk, she started to grow more fluid in her movements, the constant use making them second nature as the hours trailed lethargically by. Occasionally she let herself dawdle a little, fall back and gain a few kisses of discipline before restoring herself to the required position on the belt.
The hunched position started to become tedious and she tried to straighten a little to ease some of the stress, only to find that the sensors were intolerant of the slightest change in her stance during this period of devolution. The shocks emerged again, but this time others were added to her breasts, the nipples that rested against the stern shell being savaged by swirling flashes of discomfort that quickly forced her back onto all four feet.
Over the course of several hours she was relentlessly pushed towards a steady gallop, her hooves pounding the mat beneath as it span past. Once again she was subjected to the ordeal of fighting to have her physique meet the demands required of her, applying her resilience to the task to ensure she succeeded.
The rubber prison became a horrendously sweltering bane to her flesh, the rubber squirming against her motions, filled with ample sweat. Her body ached and burned, her pulse stamping through her head as she kept to the rigorous gallop, her occasional failures earning her bouts of discipline.
It was not long before she started to pray for an end, so she might rest, her weariness growing more potent, making her stumble on occasion, the electrical castigation quickly galvanising her back into a full run as she vehemently cursed it. There was nothing she could do. She could not take any more, but if she tried to stop she would be disciplined so severely that no matter how enervated, how emotionally and physically shattered she was, the uniform would have her back at the required speed in no time. The longer she ran, the more her head swam with giddiness and the more difficult it was to keep to the parameters proscribed for her training.
The periods of voltage assault grew longer, the agonising teeth that gnawed at her becoming more venomous, increasing their vicious settings until she gave up and found the effort to restore herself to a run. The fiendish machine was never going to let her rest, it would keep going, keep increasing the agony it could impart until it found the setting to make her comply.
Mina could see now how other girls had been reduced to shattered insane shells by this horror, for already she was in turmoil, resenting her treatment, hating it, yet unable to do a single thing to affect it. She had foolishly agreed to this fate, and Poseidon would work her until she dropped, succeeded, or went insane. She couldn’t take this, she would lose her mind or suffer a coronary. How could they do this to her, to a woman who only wanted to please them?
Mina had no idea how long she remained on the running machine, her first awareness that her lot had changed coming when the door opened and Poseidon entered. The man moved beside her, standing just by the rolling rubber mat as it forced her onwards, making her sprint, her limbs bounding against it as her sight wavered and rocked, her mind full of woe.
‘You’ve been running well, Mina,’ he stated, and flicked a switch in the control panel. ‘Few ponies have lasted this long on such a setting.’
Mina sighed with utter relief as the machine swiftly slowed and came to a stop, letting her sag. Her legs folded beneath her until she was hanging by the cables and tethers that remained sternly fixed to her body, holding her a few feet up, her limbs loose under her hanging torso.
‘You must be exhausted,’ he offered as Mina closed her eyes, sobbing to herself within her private cell, unable to fathom how she could hope to make it through this evil tutoring. ‘Let’s get you cleaned up and to bed.’
Mina stood upon one of the small hills, her hooves sinking a little way into the soil with each step, burdened by the added weight of her new attire. The shell that encompassed her torso had been swapped for another white version, this one bearing the fixtures that would allow the wings to be attached. The carapace was far more solid, constructed from a plasteel alloy, an amalgamation of plastic and metal that combined exceptional light weight with incredible strength, a strength emphasised by the erasure of the brittle nature of a metal, giving the material a far higher tolerance for stress. Plasteel was being kept quiet for now, hidden while it was fully developed and the manufacture of it prepared, the factories readied, the uses worked out, even basic plans for marketing arranged. Thus while it ran through government approval, the entire machine behind it could confidently be set in motion, completely certain that it would pass. This would allow the corporations to flood the world with their product and beat all competition by years, creating a cartel impermeable to outsiders.
With soft clicks of acceptance her fittings grabbed the wings, the white upgraded versions furled neatly at her sides. Her body stretched against its new albino uniform, and her fingers clutched at the internal sleeves of her gloves, scratching a hoof against the turf as she awaited the order to begin.
A tingle of static charge brushed across her scalp, the neuronic sensors charging themselves. They were placed to the most deep setting possible, where only a concentrated devoted force of the will would register against them, the flashes of impulse through her synapses having to be singular enough of purpose to deploy the new appendages to her body. It was a wise precaution to stop any wayward thoughts interfering with the flight, but also it meant it required a person of unparalleled willpower to operate it safely and competently.
‘You may begin, slave,’ commanded Poseidon, stepping back with her unleashed reins as the engineers followed. The carriage that had brought them was parked a short way away, the team of six ponies blinkered in full so that they could not see the test flight.
Fixing her eyes forward through the lenses, Mina banished all superfluous thought from her mind, casting away all doubt and speculation, and then flung a single yelled command through her mind, visualising the response to assist her.
The wings flung wide, the artificial muscles making them operate in smooth organic sweeps rather than clumsy mechanised jerks. Pounding her hooves against the grass she bolted forward, her mane and tail flapping in the wind as she accelerated to a mad charge.
With a hiss of exertion she kicked into the ground as she cleared the crest of the hill, closing her eyes and filling her mind with the orders needed to control her winged harness. Her legs curled up against her body, meeting the small clamps upon her underside that snapped to awaiting hoof rings, letting her relinquish control of her limbs so she could concentrate more fully on her flight.
Upon a smooth dip she began to glide downwards, sweeping towards the tree line and certain doom. With a soft grin she pictured the mortified faces of Poseidon and the engineers before she altered the angle of the wings. With a sudden flash of ascent she spiralled upwards, using the ornithopter capabilities of the wings to assist her climb, taking her costume well beyond the realms of a mere glider.
Gathering height, she beat her wings against the air, the strong thrashing sweeps hauling her up in steady jolts. The land began to drop away, the edges of the island becoming visible as she gained more and more altitude. Against her gag she laughed and giggled with glee, enthralled with the magnificent sight of the world below her, her rubber-clad form gleaming in the bared rays of the sun. The sense of elation was immeasurable, the feeling of being able to fly, to soar and swoop, to escape the world while still being imprisoned in her skin-tight personal cell.
With intense concentration she kept going, working in small swirls, her wings beating with precise rhythm as she crawled upwards towards the same height as the mountain itself. Once she cleared its summit she soared forward, extending her wings to their fullest, cruising on the breeze like an eagle, surveying the world in these idle moments, the wings needing no more commands.
She looked across the sea in all directions, spying the sporadic collections of rock jutting from it, the myriad islands stretching in all directions until open ocean extended to the horizon, save to the north she could see the loitering line that was the mainland - distant China, the normal world. To see even this vague glimpse of it escalated her sense of jubilation, for all she could picture was the choking cities, the teeming, closely packed population, the oppression of existence itself. And here she was, riding the air as a rubber-clad beast of mythology, dragged from legend and forged through discipline, erotic bondage and her slavery on a tropical paradise. If she could have defeated the gag she would have howled her delight across the heavens, sent its echo through the universe to announce her pleasure.
With a chuckling growl she banked and dove towards the mountain, her wandering having buffeted her with a few choice thermals that had taken her even higher than the lofty peak. She rolled around the craggy surface, hugging the stone, watching the uneven spire flash beneath her belly as she whirled around it, descending like a helter-skelter.
Peeling away as she neared the lower reaches, she sped over the main building, the area deserted. The guests were attending a display Poseidon had arranged in the sub levels of the building, and the ponies had been set in their stables for the day. No one would see her first flight; she would remain a secret until her grand unveiling.
Swooping around she arched her wings up at the front and then flashed them around, braking suddenly. With a stern thought she set the clamps free and as though dropping an undercarriage, her hooves clopped upon the roof of the mansion. Furling her wings to her sides, she pranced along it and then threw herself from the side. Practiced at command, and without fear or doubt, her wings flashed open before she hit the ground and turned her dive into a sharp ascent. The sudden reversal of direction jolted her body against the uniform and her hooves tore four shallow trenches in the ground before she hurtled upward.
Beating her wings she arced around and began a level run towards the stables. Dropping her hooves upon the lip of the roof, she kept her wings out and half ran, half glided along the building, galloping along the entire length, drumming her hoof beats upon the roof. With jovial mirth she imagined the startled expressions of the other ponies as they heard a pony-girl running above, their confusion as to how she got there and who she was making them struggle and whinny against their bondage.
Leaping from the end of the wooden runway she locked her legs into position and sped her ascent, climbing rapidly, clearing the trees and then ascending higher. Once she had left the ground far below she broke aside and plummeted at a steep angle, streaking down towards the beach.
Scudding along the sand, her turbulence whipped up particles in her wake before she skimmed onto the water. The tips of her hooves caught the peaks of waves as she cruised just above the sea, circling slowly around the bound women, whose eyes widened in shock as she darted past their restricted visual arc.
The image of Icarus struck her mind as she looked across the rolling ocean flashing beneath her and launched upwards with purpose. Capturing thermals and assisted by choice winds, Mina used her wings to carry her ever up, continuing without pause, keeping her mind dedicated to the task, the interior of the uniform growing hot with her mental exertion and the heat of the toiling components in the wings.
A few streaked clouds drew her attention and she passed through them, the wispy lines placing a sheen of moisture to her form as she moved through them and back into unblemished sky.
The lethal ascent of Icarus made her laugh with satisfaction. She was another product of mythology and she was triumphing over him with her flight, but then again, she was a far more advanced aviatrix.
Levelling out her flight, she was startled to see that the island was little more than a vague blotch of green and brown below her. Only the churned white waters that surrounded it marked it from the others, preventing her from becoming lost.
A soft series of beeps entered her ears, testifying that her energy reserves were getting low. Glancing to the horizon she was similarly amazed to see that the sun was creeping down towards the distant skyline, the day drawing to a close. It felt like she had only been up for seconds, and yet it also seemed as though she had always been there. The sheer ecstasy of her flight had stolen the day from her and now she was running low on fuel, her artificial wings succumbing to fatigue from the strains she had placed upon them.
Pausing for one last moment to admire the unequalled view, she looked to the world and then dipped into a nosedive, her snout streaking against the air as she drew her wings in to accelerate her plummet. She knew the capacities of the uniform and let her mind marvel at the image of the island as it grew with increasing haste. The tiny pinprick specks upon a few green bumps became the vague image of Poseidon and the engineers, watching her with binoculars.
Letting her wings emerge slowly, she changed her trajectory and then turned suddenly. The velocity of her screaming descent wrenched her body as the wings fought her impetus, destroying it abruptly. With a nimble flip she swooped up before them, breaking from her dive and folding her wings as she simultaneously released her clamps and dropped onto all fours before them.
Panting softly, Mina shuffled on the spot as the men approached. Poseidon clipped her reins into position and patted her head, running his hand down her mane as the engineers removed her wings and loaded them back onto the carriage.
‘That was quite a flight,’ he said with a mellow voice, running his hands across her form. ‘We were very impressed. You seem to have mastered the uniform with ease. Every other aviatrix had trouble with just gliding and maintaining flight without all the stunts and other feats you were performing. I guess the new wings help, but I think it’s more down to you, my sweet Pegasus.’
Mina gave a pleased whinny, delighted to be treated to his touch, for even though she could barely feel it through her uniform it was emphasising her derogated position in life. He was treating her as a genuine beast, a possession, and that satisfaction was a wonderful sense of comfort and security.
‘We’ll get you back to your training stable, and I think some reward is justified,’ he promised, making her eager for release, her flight having fanned her arousal to a peak that rivalled her earlier famine.