- by o-girl
Her new home was a rectangular concrete cell. It had an Iron Gate or door at one end, no windows and two fluorescent tubes in the ceiling for light. One was very white and on during the day. The other was orange-red and on during the night.
In the middle of the room was an open drain. This she used to relieve herself. The stableboys attending her used it to empty her daily enema in it and when she was washed it also acted as drain for that.
On one side was a concrete, low platform, with two plastic bowls embedded. One of the bowls had a water pipe above it and was her drinking fountain. The other bowl was regularly filled with a substance for her to eat. The substance had rice, sometimes potatoes, granola, cooked vegetables and from time to time little pieces of meat in it. It normally tasted as interesting as dissolved cardboard.
At the end of the room was a metal pipe construction, she learned to fear. This construction could be used to tying her up in different positions. Always defenseless and always with some part of her body ready to be fucked or punished.
On the last side was a thin, plastic coated mattress on which she slept.
The walls had a number of iron rings cast in the concrete. In time she learned the usage of all these rings, but in the beginning she just wondered about them.
Now, when she was led here the first time, she was tired and exhausted to the brink of falling asleep standing up or maybe collapsing.
Her day was not over yet though.
The two men, who had taken her over from the Grey-haired woman, started by unlocking her hands.
She screamed from the pain. It was almost worse than when she had had her arms forced up between her shoulder blades. At the beginning they had hurt as well as her shoulders. Shortly she had lost all feeling and the blood had stopped circulating freely in her tormented arms. For the last part of the evening, she had not noticed them at all.
Now the sensation of having them unlocked and brought back down to ‘normal’ position made blood rush to them, and the muscles react.
It was probably the worse pain she had experienced all through the evening.
She was unharnessed, washed and oiled, and then she was chained to the wall and left alone.
She ate and drank and emptied her bladder over the drain – and fell asleep exhausted on the hard mattress.
The next morning her training started.
In the evening, she had been so tired, worn out and full of new impressions, that she had just laid her head down on the mattress and had fallen into deep sleep. Now she was woken up (very early), and made ready again.
She never did get a chance to think about things, she just went straight into her new role and life without ever contemplating it.
Her days were pretty similar: Up early, enema, wash, harnessing, and practice. Then intermission for food in the middle of the day, more training and then a dinner break.
Sometimes she was taken for practice in the evening, but not always.
Finally unharnessing, washing and sleep.
She stopped counting the days quickly and she would not have been able to tell you what day it was – if anybody should ask her – which of course nobody did. In fact she was gagged or bitted for most of the time – and the whip soon taught her to keep quiet the few moments her mouth was not occupied by leather, steel or male genitals…
Two weeks passed. She had gotten into the daily routine and was not at all wondering about things anymore.
Her situation had become a normal state for her.
They had cut her hair. It was shoulder length, when she first came there. Now they had cut it short on the sides and left a line down the middle the original length.
The long part of her hair was either in a ponytail or braided together with some leather lines used for controlling her.
She hardly felt the rings in her ears, tits and nose anymore – and did not even feel degraded by being led by her nose.
In fact she had begun to think it rather sexy and appealing…
Her waistline was slimmer than ever, and the constant corseting and belting had also become a habit to her.
The rings in her labia and behind her clit was still not quite to her liking. She felt it was too intimate and too ‘kinky’ to be quite ok.
She was used to having her arms locked up behind her shoulder blades, and the muscles had adjusted to the tighter and tighter strapping. She now hardly felt any pain when they locked her arms up.
Her feet and legs were used to the high heels and she could run, jump and walk as freely as she had done before.
After two weeks she was lying one evening contemplating all this. She realized that she had not washed herself for the whole period. In fact she had not had her hands free for more than a few moments throughout her stay.
She had not spoken a whole sentence either, and – for a short moment – wondered if she could speak at all.
Everybody was actually kind to her in a strange way. She was punished, when she did not comply or did things the right way, but most of the time she was treated as kindly as one would do to any favorite pet animal.
Sometime in the afternoon, she was set in an outside fenced in pen besides the stable. Here she could mingle with the other ponyboys and -girls at the farm. Of course they were all bitted and had to communicate by body language.
She also got used to being chased round by the ponyboys and sometimes – more or less voluntarily – get fucked by them.
(She also got fucked – or mated as they called it – in the stables, but here she never knew who penetrated her or could deduce which of the ponyboys it was.
These sessions were totally controlled by the Trainers, and there was no room for any sort of personal initiative for either her or the man/ponyboy at her other end).
She usually ran a few rounds along the inside of the high wooden fence – and she jumped over the permanent obstacles in the middle of the pen, to try and get better at jumping.
She learned to come quickly, when one of the Trainers appeared at the door to the pen and called: ‘Amy, Amy’ – and then did clicking sounds with their teeth. At least she knew that when they called her, she was going to do something interesting and be trained, which was a welcome intermission to the rather uneventful days.
By the end of the two weeks, she was very good at jumping, could pull a cart for lengthy periods at a time (even with extra weight and brakes on the wheels), and knew the basics of presenting herself (walking with very high knees).
One thing she detested was the ‘rodeo training’. This was done like the first evening, she had been there.
She had a defined time period, in which to avoid getting caught and tied down – otherwise she would be punished by one lash per every five sec's remaining on the clock.
She quickly learned to be very good to resist and avoid being caught. Her little body was hard for the catchers to get a grip on. First she was quick and ducked and changed tempo, when someone tried to catch her. Then, when she was finally caught, she was an expert at worming and sliding and slipping, so that even though one should expect it to be easy to throw her little body to the ground, it often surprised the catchers how ‘slippery’ she was.
When she was finally down, she was very good at keeping her hands and legs under her body, twisting and turning, so that the catcher had a hard time connecting her ankles and wrists with the short strap.
She did not stop struggling till she felt her catcher get up, knowing that the game was finally over.
Most of the pro Trainers liked her a lot for it, but the not so experienced had a hard time, and she often managed to stay uncaught for the whole period.
After two weeks, they started to let her service different men coming to the farm.
She had noticed that once in a while someone would pass by her door together with one or more of her regular Trainers. They would look in on her, but pass her by and go to some of the other boxes.
One day a rather fat man stopped outside her box. He was with the Grey-haired woman running the place.
They looked at her for a long time as she was lying on her mattress, then passed on.
She felt relief, as the man was not at all appealing to her.
However, five minutes later they came back and opened the door to her box.
The Grey-haired woman got her on her feet, and the man examined her in detail. She shivered, when his stubby hands slid over her body, pinching her tits and kneading her breasts, seeking her intimate openings and entering her with a few fingers. Pulling at the rings and in general getting to know every detail of her body.
He did not speak, but she could hear his slightly heavy breathing. The gray-haired praised her body and emphasized her youth and firmness.
Finally he said: ‘Ok, she’ll do. Have her ready in half an hour’. Then he turned and went out together with the woman.
Tears began to run down her cheeks. What was this all about? And why was this disgusting man allowed to handle her like a piece of meat?
She was still standing in the middle of the room wondering and sobbing as the stableboys came in.
Quickly they got her in to her gear and led her out to the riding house. Here she was hitched to a cart and left waiting.
The fat man and the Grey-haired came out and inspected her. The fat man had put on riding booths and had a short crop in his hand.
She noticed that the door to the riding house was open to the pen outside.
‘Ok, he said again. I’ll take her for a spin and see if I like it’.
The gray-haired stroked her butt and said: ‘Her name is Amy and she is well-trained, so be good to her’. The she smiled at her and patted her butt to comfort her.
When he sat down in the cart, it gave a distinct pull downward in the rings in her corset. He was heavier than she had expected.
He hit her forcefully over her buttocks as he said ‘Giddyup, girl’ and pulled the reins. Slowly she started to pull the cart along.
‘Faster, faster’, he ordered as the crop danced it’s painful polka on her butt.
He drove her round a few times inside the riding house at ever-increasing speed, then outside to the pen.
Here it became even harder to pull him. The floor of the riding house was hard and smooth, with a sawdust cover, but the pen outside was grass and not particularly even.
He kept pressing her forward with the reins and the whip. She was panting and saliva was running from her nose and mouth. There was no one else in the pen, so he made her do figure eight's and run in and out between the obstacles as fast as she could.
Suddenly he stopped her with a violent pull at the reins. She thought her jaws would go out of joint, but they held even though it was very painful.
He got out of the cart, and grabbed the ring on the side of her bit.
‘Down, girl. Kneel’.
He underlined the command by hitting her behind her legs and pulling her down by the ring.
Then he stepped behind her again and she felt him forcing her into a forward bend position.
He grabbed her clit ring with one hand and let the fingers of his other hand explore her insides. The he spiked her on his penis.
She could hear him panting even more as the excitement got to him.
The little bells in her tits and collar tinkled every time his large stomach hit her but. She used all her force to stay up on her bend knees.
With a grunt he came and she could feel him spill inside her.
He pulled out as soon as he was finished. Got up and hit her with the crop as he went backwards into the seat for the cart.
‘Get up, girl. Go’.
Aided by his crop, she got on her feet as quickly as possible, then started to pull him round again.
She could feel his semen running out of her and drying up on the insides of her legs as he pressed her round and round in the pen.
Finally he directed her back into the riding house and stopped her in front of the beam used to hang the girls for the rodeo on.
He called the stableboys that were standing leaning against the wall, had them assist him in unhitching her and hanging her from the beam.
Her feet was off the ground and she could turn halfway round to each side as the only thing that held her was her locked wrists on top of the beam.
He got a bullwhip out from under the seat of the cart and came over to her.
The gray-haired woman appeared at the same moment.
‘Well. Do you like her?’
‘Not quite. She is not as well trained as you said. She could run much faster and be much quicker in accommodating one’s desires, but I will just give her a reminder.
If the Grey-haired woman had not stopped him, she was sure he would have kept it up till she had fainted – and maybe even beyond that.
Like in a dream, she heard the Grey-haired woman cry out: ‘OK, stop. It’s enough. You are not supposed to do damage to the stock, you know!’
The lashing ended and she was left hanging there.
Slowly she came round. The little she could see of herself, when she tried looking down, was not a pretty sight: Her body was full of blue and black stripes and she hurt all over.
The stable boys helped her down and carefully carried her to her box, where they washed and tended her sore body.
They left her more or less alone to recuperate for two days. Then they slowly started her training again.
Nobody ever mentioned the ordeal she had been through – but everybody was even kinder to her than before – so she figured that they all knew and felt a little sorry for her.
Naturally she feared the next session – but it was intirely different.
Her next ‘rider’ was a young man, who enjoyed figure riding. So she pulled him round in different intricate patterns in the pen under his careful and rather gentle direction.
Afterwards, he followed her to the stables and washed her down himself.
While she was hanging in her box – still wet from being hosed down by him – he went down in front of her and licked, sucked and kissed her to a screaming orgasm.
Apparently he had an infatuation with her rings as his tongue and lips kept playing with them – a new and very exciting feeling for her. The gentle and soft tongue and lips pulling and playing with her crotch.
He finally made slow love to her as she hung there happy from her orgasm.
Afterward she thought that she had now tried both extremes of being a ponygirl…
Fortunately she found out that most men, she had to serve were like the gentle young man, but there were a few almost as strict and tuff as her first rider.
All through this, she did not see her lover.
She did long for him every moment, and when things became to tuff for her, she though of him, and how he would like her to be perfect in this role as ponygirl.
This kept her going and made her do her utmost at all times to comply with her training.
There were a couple of parties like the first one, she had attended. He was not there, but a lot of the other known faces were.
Even her girlfriend was present at one of the parties. They did not speak as they had their usual bits and bridles on, but they did make a lot of eyes at each other.
This encouraged her even more to do as good as she could.
By the end of her fourth week at the farm, she knew the regular Trainers, the owners and most of the ponygirls and –boys there.
It was like home to her in a strange way.
Of course there were some she preferred to others, and often she found herself longing to go outside in the pen. Just to rub herself against a certain ponyboy or –girl of her liking.
They had developed a kind of code language: A high pitch throat sound meant: ‘Look out, somebody’s coming’ – usually somebody one had to beware of.
A deep throat sound meant: ‘This is nice, come closer’ – or ‘keep it up’. A quick whiz of air through one’s nose meant: ‘Get off’, ‘Beware’ or ‘If you come any closer, I’ll kick you’.
There were a number of other signals. All of them came naturally and all of them were expressed by the sounds one could make with a bit in one’s mouth or the body language one had access too with one’s arms out of the way.
She realized she was beginning even to act like an animal, and sometimes used this combined unarticulated language and body signals to the Trainers and Drivers. They all seemed to understand and appreciate it.
One morning (it was a Saturday morning – but she did not know), she was taken out of her box, and with a hood over her head, led to the big house. Even though she did not have her eyesight, she knew the way by now.
In stead of being brought to the big hall, she was taken upstairs (were she had never set her feet yet).
There the stable boys helped her to get out of all the leather and chains stuff, and left her absolutely naked in a large bathroom, with a door to a sauna and a filled bathtub.
She took a long (very long) combined sauna and bubble bath.
Beside the bathtub, they had put a tray with delicious sandwiches and a bottle of white wine, some juice, a thermos with coffee and a selection of soft drinks.
It was the first ‘real’ food; she had had for a month, so she enjoyed the taste of all the different items. Took tiny bite’s of everything, had small gulps of more or less all the drinking stuff – and really, really felt good.
After her long bath, she went into the room, looking for something to put on. There was a silky night robe lying on the bed, but nothing else, so she decided to put that on.
It was a strange feeling: The first ‘normal’ piece of clothing, she had been wearing for a long time. The material felt cool and soft against her suntanned and hardened skin.
She turned in front of the bathroom mirror. Looking at herself in the robe from all angles.
Then there was a knock on the door!
She startled. Someone was actually knocking on a door to get in to her. She had been so accustomed to the barred steel door, which she had no access or right to use. And to the persons passing and looking unashamed in on her nakedness in the box.
This was like a whole new feeling. She stood frozen on the floor.
There was another knock. That got her out of her daze. She went quickly across the floor, grabbed the handle and pulled it downwards. Also a different feeling.
The door actually responded and opened.
Outside was her lover. She threw herself around his neck and kissed him all over. He returned her kisses and put his strong arms around her, lifting her off the floor and carrying her to the bed, where he put her down.
As they went through the door, he closed it with his foot on the way.
Slowly – very slowly, he explored her body. Kissing and caressing her all over.
After about two minutes, she went into her first orgasm, and they did not stop coming for a long while.
She did not know for how long she floated around in his arms, just letting herself go completely and feeling more loved than ever.
When they had finally had what they both so strongly desired, they lay in each other's arms till she felt asleep.
A few times during the night she woke up, only to press herself towards him and letting her arms hold him tight, before falling a sleep again.
The sun was shining in through the curtains, when he woke her up with a nice, full breakfast tray.
Then they made love again.
They had not spoken more than two words for this whole time.
Now, she was curious as to what his plans were, but when she started to talk, he just put his finger to his mouth, saying: ‘Shyyyh. Not yet. Later. You will be allowed to talk’.
She was still so much under the dominating influence of the place that she complied. Instead she put something else in her mouth, and worked this particular part of his body till he screamed, and she swallowed all he had coming for her.
Eventually he took a shower, and went out of the room without looking at her.
She was a bit puzzled, but took a shower herself, thinking that she might have to go back to the stables, and wanting to be able to wash and caress her own body before it was too late.
Her next visitors did not knock. It was the two stable boys.
She was sitting on the bed, when they opened the door and came in.
As usually they were very polite.
‘Stand up, please’, one of them said.
She automatically rose to her feet, and the other one lifted the robe of her shoulders, and clicked a pair of steel handcuffs on her wrists behind her back.
The other one clicked the well-known leash to the ring in her clit, and finally the one behind her, pulled a bag over her head.
‘Please, come with us’. She heard from within the bag, and as she felt the usual pull in her clit ring, she started to walk along with them.
When the bag came off, she was in a small, almost empty room without any windows. In the middle was a square, red carpet or blanket. They led her there and made her kneel on the blanket. Then they let the leash lie in front of her and went out.
Before she had time to study the surroundings, her lover and the Grey-haired woman came in. The stood in front of her on each side and looked at her body with interest.
Right behind them came one of the boys with a tray covered with another piece of red velvet. He put the tray down in front of her and went out.
‘Now’, the gray-haired said. ‘We have come to the conclusion of your basic training. You have been good and have the potential to become a true and fine ponygirl. How do you feel about that?’
She looked from the Grey-haired to her lover, but the gray-haired spoke again: ‘No, no. Don't look at him. Look at me. It is you and I that are having this conversation. Well, would you like to continue and become a true ponygirl?’
She drew a few very deep breaths and looked down on the floor, blushing for the first time in weeks.
‘Yes. I think so. At first I did not like it at all, but now I am almost fond of it, and trying to do my best’.
Even though she was speaking to the floor, her remark was addressed at him. It was for him she had stood through all this, and for him she did it.
‘Ok, you have been permanently marked by the rings in your body, indicating your status as a pet animal, but there’s still one thing to go. One final mark. The mark of ownership by your Master. Are you willing to be marked as his permanent ponygirl and property, for him to do with whatever he desires, and for the whole world to see?’
She was not quite certain, what she meant, and again there was a long intermission.
‘I…I…think so…?’ she managed to stutter.
‘Well, we will show you what we mean, and you will be free to refuse, until the last moment. Should you go along with it, there will be no turning back after you have been marked’.
With these words she went to the tray and removed the top cloth.
Under it was an oblong, mahogany box, also lined with red padding, and in the middle of the box was a long metal rod with a wooden and leather decorated handle in one end.
She lifted the rod up carefully; it was about half a meter long and had a kind of matte, brushed steel look.
As she turned it in front of their eyes, she said: ‘This is your Master’s mark. It will be placed on your right buttock as a permanent sign for you, him and the world’.
She looked at the end. It had his initials in thin metallic lines engraved on the end. Suddenly it dawned on her: It was a branding iron!. She shivered. On her butt. She could almost sense the pain of having this metal pressed towards her skin, and shivered again.
She looked from her lover to the Grey-haired. He did not speak, but smiled at her.
‘D..:D…Does it hurt a lot?’
‘It’s how you see it. Some people thinks they will die if a dentist drills a tiny hole in their teeth, other people can endure immense amount of pain. I expect it to be about the same as some of the more violent whippings, you have had’.
She thought for a moment. Then in a sudden attack of bravery she said: ‘I still wanna do it. Will you help me in enduring the pain?’
‘Yes, of course. Your lover and I will do our utmost to make this as little painful as possible, but I must warn you: It cannot be done painlessly’.
‘Ok, I will give it a try. You say there’s still time to regret?’
Yes, I will ask you right before it takes place, and if you say no. We will immediately stop and set you free. There is just one other thing’. She leaned over the tray again and took something that looked as a small drill up in her hands.
‘As any good livestock, you will have to have an earmark. This is the tattoo needle, we use for this. The mark will be inside your left ear, at the top. It will be about a centimeter or two and have yours and your Trainers initials in thin blue writing – that’s all – and that’s not painful. Will you do that as well?’
She had noticed the ear tattoo on some of the ponygirls and –boys and wondered about them. However they were very discreet, so she saw no problem in that.
She nodded in agreeance.
‘Well, that’s settled then. Let’s do it - as they say. Get up, my dear'.
As if she had rang a hidden bell, the stableboy came back and took the tray away. Her lover helped her up, pulled her close and kissed her – slowly and gently.
Then he whispered in her ear: ‘At last you are mine – oh, how I love you – my little pony’.
The last thing she saw was his eyes locked to hers as he pulled the hood back over her head.
He supported her by holding her shoulders, and had probably just the leash loosely around his wrist as he led her along.
Her knees were shaking and she was terrified – what had she agreed to. Her teeth were clattering in her mouth.
When the hood was taken off again, she was in a very small room – again with no windows.
A heavy wooden bench or table in the middle dominated the room. It was narrow (about a meter wide) and long (about two meters), and a little bit higher that an ordinary table. It stood firmly on some solid looking square, wooden beams. It was smooth apart from a large number of shiny metal hooks placed on the bottom and all along the edge.
The only other item in the room was something that looked like a small cupboard, but hidden under a red piece of material. On a chair beside this cupboard was the tray from before with it’s grisly utensils on.
Their voices had a muffled sound and the door closed silently.
The Grey-haired spoke: ‘My dear, this is it. The room is totally sound proof and I have made sure that it is well heated, so you wont be cold’. She stroked her over her hair.
She was shivering even though she knew the woman was right. The room was above normal temperature.
Her lover lifted her up on the bench, and while she was sitting there, he held her head, and the Grey-haired tattooed her ear. She could smell his after-shave and tried hard to relax in his arms.
The tattoo machine made an awful noise in her ear, like a machine drill, but she knew it was only because of the closeness that it sounded like this.
It was over sooner than she had expected.
‘So, you can look at her now’
Her lover let go of her head and went over to the other side, admiring her new mark.
‘Beautiful. You are a real artist with that needle. I am sorry you will have to wait to see it for yourself till later. Do you still want to go along with this?’
She muttered a hardly audible ‘yes’.
While they had tattooed her ear the boys had gone in and out a number of times, placing a box under the bench and a small black leather suitcase next to the chair.
‘I will tie her myself’, her lover said. The Grey-haired went to the door and locked it saying: ‘Now, we do not want any disturbances at this great moment’.
Her lover lifted her down from the bench, and whispered in her ear: ‘I will tie you really tight. That way you will not feel the pain, when it happens’.
He bend down to the box and came up with a soft rope. Then he unlocked the steel cuffs.
He cross-tied her wrists. Slowly and carefully. First he placed her arms parallel and then tied them like two pieces of wood. Then he pulled down so that her wrists were in an ‘x’ and making the first loops tighten up. He then wound the rope round her wrists the other way, ensuring that her arms would stay in the ‘x’ position. Finally he put a few loops between her arms tightening both the first and the second set of loops even more. She was totally fixed in the ‘x’ position.
He then went down and got her waisttrainer belt out. This time he tightened it to the last hole, making her give a little shriek from the pain of it.
He grabbed the remaining rope ends from her wrists, pulled her arms upward until she gave another shriek from the pain, let the two ends over her shoulders, crossing in front of her breasts and finally tying them solidly to the front of her belt.
‘So. Nice and tight. He inspected the tying with satisfaction. She had tears in her eyes, but he wiped them off and kissed both her cheeks, whispering: ‘So, so. I am sorry but it is better this way’.
He then lifted her up on the bench, and placed her on her stomach, but with her head sticking out in the end.
Now she found out what the hooks underneath were for. He took another rope, made a noose and let it slide over one of the hooks, right at her elbow. Then he pulled the rope through her elbow and down to the hook again. By tightening her tormented arms were helping to keep the rest of her upper body still. He quickly went to the other side and did the same thing here.
Then he took a small sandbag and shoved it under her right hipbone, so that the object of this exercise: her right butt was sticking up in the air.
He proceeded by the help of the hooks and a lot more rope, to hog-tie her on to the bench.
When he had finished, she could move her fingers, toes and head. Everything else was totally fixed, and most of her was numb from the lack of circulation.
He did one final inspection. Then he lifted her head up with both hands, kneeling in front of her and looking her straight into the yes: ‘Well. This is it. I will ask you once more: Do you really wanna do this? Think carefully. If you answer yes, there will be no return from now on?’
She looked in his eyes for a long time. Then she said: ‘Do you really love me?’
‘Yes, he said firmly. More than ever and more than I have ever loved anybody’.
‘Ok, then let me be marked as your permanent property to do with whatever you like’.
‘Ok. He said slowly. Then he pulled a large ballgag up in front of her face. ‘Open up. It will be better if you have something to bite in’.
Willingly she let him put the large rubber and disinfectant tasting ball in her mouth. He tied the straps behind her head, over her head and under her chin with as much force as he could. It hurt, but left her without possibility for further protests.
Suddenly she realized what was about to happen to her, and she started to protest and fidget the little she could. He just stroked her head and calmed her by speaking softly to her. She realized that it was final.
The Grey-haired had taken the red cloth of the cupboard. She now saw that it was not a cupboard, but a small kind of oven made almost intirely of shiny steel.
She turned the knobs and placed the end of the metal rod in the middle of the oven, a strange ticking sound started. Probably some sort of oven timer, but in the stillness it sounded like a churchbell. She looked at the rod as fear rose inside her by the second.
The Grey-haired marked her butt with a felt pen, took some disinfectant from the black suitcase and rubbed her carefully on the spot. Then she took out an aerosol can and showed it to her. It was the same kind of freeze stuff the women had used in the piercing shop.
The Grey-haired put it down and took out a needle. She injected something in her butt making it go almost numb.
They did what they could to make it easy on her. Still she thought she was going to faint.
A small ‘pling’ from the oven made her jump in her ropes. Then she heard and felt the freeze stuff going on her butt.
He took the rod out and showed it too her. It was not red-hot. In fact it looked just like before, but she could smell a hot metallic and sharp odeur, so she knew it was hot enough to do the job.
He used his thumb and forefinger to hold her skin steady, but of course she was too numb to feel that. Then he pressed the iron against her skin. It was like a light touch, she thought it lasted less than a second, but as he turned to put the rod back in the oven to cool off, she could smell burning flesh – her flesh – and feel the slow dumb pain from the branding.
She let her head hang down. It was over; she had been branded as a pony.
To be continued
Copyright © Aug 2000, by o-girl. All rights reserved. Posted here with permission.
Do not repost nor repurpose without permission.