i never should have let Molly ring my nipples.  It makes controlling me too damned easy.  Of course that's exactly why She did it.  That i love being under someone's control goes without saying.  Like right now for instance.  i am under their complete control simply because my nipple rings are attached together outside the bars of my stall.  There are two K-Y Jelly coated steel bars between my tits so my nipples are stretched cross eyed, pinning my chest to the bars.  i am thus forced to stand here and let Dempsey expertly rope my arms together up behind my back.  The rope work is all double cinched and really snug, really first rate.  One thing is for sure, my arms are not going to be in anyone's way, whatever they might care to do to my naked body.
Finished with my arms, Dempsey, my assigned trainer, stands close behind me, His hard cock like a pistol in His pocket.  Pressing His knee against the back of mine, He forces my leg through between the bars.  Outside the bars, Molly slips a broom handle through under my knee, trapping it there.   Seconds later my left knee joins its sister, on the wrong side of the bars, leaving only His grip on my upper arms and the rings in my nipples to support my upper body's weight.
Helping me to slowly, painfully slide myself down the grease covered bars and into a kneeling position, my tits stretching, my almost useless hands gripping the front of His shirt, Dempsey completes my bondage by attaching a short strap from the restraint cuff on one ankle, over the tops of my thighs, to the cuff on the other.  i know He calls this a lap trap.  i am left kneeling here, my face and pussy framed between two steel bars, held in place by my stretched nipples and broom handle trapped knees.  Satisfied, Dempsey reaches into His little black bag of tricks for the harness gag.
Outside the bars Bull, Molly's cameraman moves around, recording everything on professional quality video tape.  At this moment the lens is focused on my pussy, where it hangs open and dripping between my bar spread thighs.  Sure enough, as the harness tightens around my head, a big gob of fuck me froth oozes out into the light and drips down to the floor below, marking me as an in heat sex slave, filling the air around me with my sex scent.
Finished with the gag harness, Dempsey again kneels behind me, running His hands over my helpless body, letting me know how hopeless, how completely restrained i have become.
The hands are gentle, knowing and insistent.  As they caress me i moan behind my gag and wiggle as much as the nipple rings will allow, trying to let him know how much what He is doing is affecting me.

* * *

This time it started with a small wager.  Several of the Moll Flander's club regulars were sitting around the patio, at the stables, up in Marin county.  i'd had two doubles and was definitely feeling the glow.
Molly's jenny splashed her tonsils with another twenty bucks worth of single malt, grinned happily and said, "i can out cum any cunt in the house."
i laughed and before thinking it through, said, "Wanna bet?."  Boy am i dumb, or maybe it was the single malt talking, i don't know.
Now the two of us are in training for a match race.  The winner will get to top the loser for a week.  i wonder, is being topped by jenny really losing?
Being topped by Dempsey, my assigned trainer, isn't all that bad, the pleasure is already submerging the pain, and He's only just begun.
my quivering body pinned against the bars, my legs trapped, His fingers massaging my G spot and clitoris, the constant, candleflame pain in my nipples, all conspire to send me into subspace, my private wonderland of passion unrestrained.
Rich, ain't it, how the brain works?  Here i am, some would say under torture, unable to in any way control my fatefinding so very much pleasure within the pain.  i think it has something to do with guilt.  When i'm restrained i feel so guiltless, so free, so, if you can understand, unrestrained.  It makes little sense when i talk about it, it makes perfect sense when i am under someone i trust's control, unable to do wrong, unable to sin.
To sin . . . How twisted a God we have made, it boggles the mind.
i feel my climax building, deep in my belly.  my entire body shudders and beads with sweat, my stretched nipples tightening around the rings that pierce them, my pussy gripping the two wiggling fingers within me.  i cry out in my need, bending my neck back to rub my cheek against His, enjoying the rasp of His beard stubble.
He uses the fingers in my sex to lift my weight, sliding my tits back up the bars and scooting in to sit in a yoga position beneath me.  When again my weight settles, His pony sized cock is there, waiting for me, all greased and hard as a bone.  i relax my spincture and let Him into my bowels, feeling the rush of pain/pleasure as His oversized cock enters my anus.  His hands return to my helpless body, bringing gifts of hot passion and purest pleasure.
i bounce myself against the bars, screaming around the gag ball in my helpless passion, feeling only the pleasure, unaware of Molly and Bull, unaware of anything but my passion.  i begin to cum, my ears hearing but my mind not comprehending the clicking of a stopwatch.  my training has begun.

* * *

Sometime later, i awake to find myself lying on my side on the stall's sleeping mat.  i twist my neck and look around, discovering i am all alone in the stall.  While i was napping i have been released from the bars, my sore, stretched nipples now nearly back to their usual shape, giving no visual hint of how tender they remain.  i wish i could touch them but cannot, due to the bindings still in place on my arms.  Looking down, i see that the lap trap still holds my knees bent, my cuffed ankles attached together, over the tops of my thighs so that each is still tight against my bottom.
i giggle around my gag ball to remember Dempsey's wonderful cock in my ass, His wiggling fingers and jackhammer dildo in my pussy, how He possessed me, how i became nothing but a needful pussy, a libido on a stick, an inflatable love doll who could do nothing but cum and cum and cum yet again.
i squeeze my thighs together, wishing i could touch my pussy, wanting more of that which i've already had plenty.
That's how it is for me, these days.  The more i get, the more i want.
For a long time i didn't get much pleasure from sex.  It was something that always left me upset, frustrated and angry.  It happened over and over.  i would take a man into my bed and we would go at it like two dogs in a schoolyard.   And just when my body was beginning to climb aboard the passion train, he would shoot his wad, roll over and go to sleep, leaving me unfulfilled, frustrated and horny.
Only in my dreams did i find what i needed.  And in my dreams i was always tightly restrained.
i wasted years, living in sexual Hell before i met Moll Flanders and her gang of perverted customers.
i think back to the first time i ever walked into Molly's North Beach club.  i was with a gang of my co-workers from TransAmerica.  We were out after work, celebrating someone's birthday.  We'd been bar hopping for a couple of hours already and were all pretty drunk.  We walked into the Moll Flanders club without even looking at the posters outside, thinking it was just another North Beach titty bar.  Imagine our shock when we went from the streets of downtown San Francisco into a medieval dungeon, lit by torches and candles, a bondage sex show in progress on stage.
We nearly passed, several of the group objecting to such, as they put it, "perversion".   i was dumbstruck, discovering for the first time, people who shared my fantasies.  When my boss, the groupÕs leader, insisted we stay for the rest of the show the others grumbled but sat down.  After all, we'd already paid the cover charge and two drink minimum, it would have been a waste of money to leave right then.  We took tables off to the side and ordered our drinks.
Up on stage a beautiful young woman was hanging above the middle of the stage, her hands tied up to the end of a dangling chain.  Her widely spread feet were about ten inches above the floor.  She was "dressed" in a see-through silk sarong that concealed almost nothing and looked as if it might fall off at any second.
Backed up by a ten piece band, she was singing the Melissa Etheridge song, Precious Pain.

Everybody's got a hunger
No matter where they are
Everybody clings to their own fear
Everybody hides some scars

Oooooooh precious pain
Empty and cold but it keeps me alive
I gave it my soul so that I could survive
Keeping me safe in these chains
Precious pain

EverybodyÕs got a reason
To abandon their plan
How can I think of tomorrow
with my sorrow in hand

Oooooooh precious pain
Empty and cold but it keeps me alive
I gave it my soul so that I could survive
Keeping me safe in these chains
Precious pain

Each road I walk down
Reminds me of you
This whole town is haunted
There'll never be anything new

Oooooooh precious pain
Empty and cold but it keeps me alive
I gave it my soul so that I could survive
Keeping me safe in these chains
Precious pain

She was great, as was her band.  i found myself sweating, a stirring in my loins reminding me how many of my own fantasies were of public exposure and sexual slavery.
i crossed my legs and felt how turned on i was, down there.  i was sure that everyone around me could smell my oozing pussy.  When the song was done i became aware that there was a general fog of sex pheromones filling the club.  It was making me want to rip off my own clothes and go join that girl on the chain.
Looking around at the sparse early crowd i saw several very interesting types of people.  There were the Rough Trade Masters, dressed in all manner of regalia, some looking like HollywoodÕs idea of outlaw bikers, several cowboys, a pirate and three classic dungeon Masters in studded harness.  Then there were the submissives, men and women dressed in outfits that revealed more than they concealed, restrained as much as offered protection.
There was one tall blond guy who, while wearing a perfectly tailored English cut suit and Italian loafers managed to project a kind of brute animal power.  His aura was like a magnetic field, drawing me to him with a surprising force.
Looking around at my co-workers i saw looks of drop-jawed shock, looks of lust, looks of blushing shame.  Suddenly i felt clairvoyant.  i could see into their libidos, finding that i was not nearly as alone in my desires as iÕd always thought.
Up on stage, the dangling singer was being joined by the band's piano player, a drop dead handsome man with sun bleached hair and a dark, virile looking mustache.

Hanging from her wrists, the singer quivered at His first touch, then moaned as His hands slipped up under her sarong, finding and pleasuring her most sensitive places.
Because the night club's ceiling mounted directional mike was still on, we could hear her every caught breath, her every whispered endearment as His hands explored her helpless body.  Soon the sarong fell away, revealing little new but making the singer look about twice as vulnerable, open, pure and desirable.
The piano player began to kiss and nibble her hanging body, His roaming hands finding and caressing her every erogenous zone.
The remainder of the band was joined by a small but powerful looking woman, dressed from head to toe in shiny black leather, who bowed to the small patter of applause, sat down at the grand piano and began to play Elton John's "Don't Go Breakin' My Heart". When the time came, the couple on stage began to sing the duet, making the words take on new meaning.  As they sang, the former piano player played her nervous system like a guitar, doing exquisite things in exquisite ways that made me want to go up there and take her place.
When the others in my group finished their drinks they were ready to go, even though to my mind the show was just getting interesting.  i went with them, noticing that most of the women were like me, flushed, nipple perked and sweating.  The men too were flushed and being careful with their coats, hiding their stiffies as best they could.
Instead of going down the street to the next club with them, i said i had a headache and was going home.  Over their perfunctory objections i hailed a passing taxi, climbed in and drove away.  After we'd gone a few blocks i told the driver i wanted to go back, figuring that my friends would be off the street by that time.
i was fully prepared to pay again but the girl at the little window recognized me and let me in without a second cover charge.
i walked in, my tummy doing flip-flops, wondering if i was really willing to go through with this.  i mean, could i really let myself be tied up and fucked by and in front of strangers?   i didn't know, but i knew i was going to try.
In the end it was as easy as falling off a log.  The stage show was just over and the small, black leather clad woman who'd been playing the piano came over, introducing herself as Moll Flanders and asking if she could sit down with me.  i nodded yes and watched as the woman signaled the bartender for another round of drinks.
She sat down across from me.  "I saw how the show was affecting you.  I was hoping you would come back." She began, looking into my eyes, making me feel she knew me better than i knew myself.
"That was the most incredible thing I ever witnessed."  i said, feeling as if i were being undressed by the leather clad woman opposite me.
"My jenny is special."  Molly said, "When she's orgasmic she sings from her gonads."
"I nearly came, just watching that guy work on her."  i said, feeling the blood pumping into my labia yet again.
"Dempsey has nice hands." Molly said, smiling in a very private way.  "Would you like to be in the next show?  It pays well and you can have any Master or Mistress in the house."
i thought about it, knowing i had come back here for that exact purpose.  It was unnerving how Molly knew so much about me.  It was magic the way my body was reacting to the idea.  i looked into this woman's sparkling eyes and said, "Yes, please, could you recommend someone? Please understand, this will be my first time." i whispered, bringing her hand up to my lips and licking her between the fingers.  "Either being bound or being with another woman."
"I bet you say that to all the girls!" Molly laughed, caressing my cheek.  "Oh yes brenda, I can recommend someone who'll do a wonderful job on you, me!  Come on, girley, we have work to do."
When i stood up and started following Molly back stage, several customers shouted their approval.  "All right Molly, good catch!" came from a table at the back and, thinking i recognized the voice, i turned to look.  Sitting there, a drink in his hand, a wide grin on his face, was Tim French, my boss, the guy who'd lead us in here, then insisted we stay for our drinks.
Meeting my gaze, he called out, "Welcome back to the Moll Flanders club, brenda.  I hope you like it kinda rough."
i blushed and followed Molly behind the curtain.
As soon as we were out of sight Molly turned to me and said, "your safety signal is shave and a haircut, use it and everything stops.  you will be released, given your clothes and sent on your way, no questions asked.  But until We hear that signal We will assume We have your permission to do the things We will be doing.  Do you understand?"
my head swimming in lust, i nodded, whispering "Shave and a haircut . . . Two bits?"
"Yes, the next time you give that signal, spoken, hummed or even tapped, your night at the Moll Flanders club will be over.  Now lets get your clothes off, We need to get you ready."  Molly said, opening my blouse.
i looked around, wondering at the sensation of being striped naked in front of all these people.  The band members were lounging around backstage, waiting for time to go back out.  jenny, now free of her restraints but still nude, came to stand beside me.  i saw that she was still flushed and nipple perked from her performance.  "Hi, i'm jenny." she said, watching me being striped.  "you gonna give it a try?"
"So it seems."  i said, wondering if i would ever be so comfortable wearing nothing but skin in a room full of people.
"Oh Molly, she's pretty!"  jenny said, reaching a hand out to touch the side of my sweaty breast.  "Can i have a turn with her?"
"We'll double team her." Molly said, coming up behind me, a short, wide, soft leather strap held in her hands.  "She says she's never been bound before, and never been fucked by a woman.  From the looks of her I think she's going to put on quite a show."
i felt my elbows being drawn together behind my back and wrapped in the soft leather strap.  i knew the thrill of helplessness as the five small buckles were set, cinching my forearms together from elbows to wrists.  Suddenly i was gushing fuck me froth, unable to keep it from running down the insides of my thighs.
"Oh please be gentle, this really is my first time." i whispered, afraid, yet at the same time eager.
"Trust us brenda, We are going to change you but not harm you." jenny said, going to her knees before me, sticking her face between my legs and sniffing.  "Molly, you should see how wet she is!" she continued, her voice muffled.
Molly was still behind me, caressing my aching, out-thrust breasts with her hands.  "I don't have to see, I can smell." She said, kissing me on the nape of my neck as Her hands pleasured my body.
Before i knew what she intended, jenny had my first ankle locked to the end of the same spreader bar she'd worn out on stage.  Seconds later the second cuff closed around my other ankle, a full 30 inches away from its mate.
"Let her get used to that rig for a few minutes, jenny, then We'll start the second show." Molly said, reaching down to get a finger-full of my pussy juice to rub under my nose.
Looking into a dressing mirror i saw how flushed and sexually open i'd become. Armless and widely spread, i had no secrets, no defenses, no will of my own.
As the band filed past me on their way to the stage, the guy called Dempsey casually reached down and touched me, intimately, between the legs, making me feel so completely helpless i nearly fell, only Molly's surprisingly strong grip on my upper arms saving me. As He walked away He was smearing my wetness into His mustache, His hard cock making an impressively large tent of His trousers.
After a minute there came a fanfare and the curtain opened, revealing the now packed house of Masters and their slaves.  There was a moment of silence, then a polite round of applause as the customers settled down to watch the show.
Standing stage center in front of me was a pair of punishment stocks, drilled with three holes and fixed to a sturdy looking upright.  Widely bar hobbled, i could not walk unassisted.  i also could not resist being forced to waddle forward, out into the circle of spotlight in the center of the stage.  i was positioned in front of the thing, my back to the audience.  Forcing me into a deep bow, Molly positioned my neck in the stocks while jenny closed and locked the hinged plank, trapping me in a deep, spraddle legged bow that must have given the guys in the front row a view of the dark side of my tonsils.
From out of nowhere a wide leather paddle came and curled around my butt, lifting me to my tip-toes in pain filled surprise.  Then, even before i had a chance to object, the blows were coming fast and furious, from both sides, making my bottom feel as if i'd sat on a stove, making me remember the time mom caught me in my bedroom, giving Bobby Smith a blow job.
Once i'd had the preliminary warmup, someone, jenny i figured out later, came and sat cross-legged on the stage behind me, her lips, teeth and tongue skillful, knowing and extremely exciting.  Soon i was panting with lust, ready to pop my last cherry.
All my life i have wanted but one thing.  The Big O. Orgasm.  All my life i have pursued this goal, only to have it slip away time after time.  i am haunted by my dreams, frightened by their power, their seductive promise.
Standing bent over in the stocks, my nearly orgasmic body on display before sixty unseen strangers, i knew my dreams fulfilled.
i was exactly where i wanted to be.  i was completely helpless, completely under the control of others, completely blameless in the coming pleasure.
Well almost, that damned safety signal was the only loophole in my argument.  I know safety signals are necessary, but when you are trying to shuck God there can't be any loopholes.
If in fact God is really the anti-sexual old puritan volcano the right wing thinks he is, then all this role playing isn't going to do us the slightest good.  But, if She is the life positive goddess of the fecund valley, then we are home free.
my rational self looks at the evidence and finds the Goddess far more likely.  But my libido is not rational.  It still believes in the God of my forefathers, the God of Thunder and Retribution.  It believes that i will be condemned to the pit for every moment of pleasure i allow myself in life.
To deal with this problem i had come back to MollyÕs, looking to restrain my thunder God long enough to worship the rain Goddess once and for all.
While i'd been having these thoughts, my captors were changing my position.  my neck was released from the stocks and i was helped to stand up and turn around to face the crowd.  As i was absorbing the blast furnace heat of their radiated lust, my pinioned elbows were drawn back so they were hanging over behind the stocks.  My elbow strap was then unbuckled and tossed aside so my wrists could be trapped in the unforgiving wood.
my head enveloped in the pheromones of a hundred horny people, dripping with sweat, happy tears and pussy juice, i knew myself closer to my goal than i'd ever been.  i felt my long restrained libido breaking free of the mind-forged manacles.  Closely restrained, i finally felt free to let go.
From the bandstand there came the opening bars of Melissa Etheridge's Bring Me Some Water.  jenny, looking like a wood nymph, began to sing and dance.  Molly, still standing behind me, continued to caress my breasts, concentrating on making my nipples as sensitive and tightly crinkled as they'd ever been.
jenny was beautiful and sexy, singing and dancing with naked abandon as the images of Melissa's magic words swirled in my mind.

Somebody bring me some water
Can't you see I'm burning alive
Can't you see my baby's got another lover
I don't know how I'm gonna survive
Somebody bring me some water
Cant you see its out of control
Baby's got my heart and my baby's got my mind
But tonight the sweet Devil, sweet Devil's got my soul

i was so glad i was not the only nude woman on that stage.  By remaining naked with me, jenny was telling me that i was in no real danger here.  i struggled against the grip the stocks had on my wrists, not expecting to be able to escape, but wanting to feel my restrained condition.  i could feel my wetness trickling down my thighs, unable to close, unable to deny, unable to object as the two women whipsawed me into sexual oblivion.
Molly's hands were like twin arsonists, setting my libido ablaze wherever they touched.  It was like being tied to a skyrocket, shooting into the heavens to burst in a shower of pure glory.
As soon as the song was done jenny bent down and took a large riding crop from the drummer.  As soon as i saw it i began to struggle in earnest, terrified of the pain such a thing could deliver.  The stocks held me right there, exposed and open, my shaved pussy on display before sixty strangers.
The band began playing Satisfaction, with Dempsey doing the vocal in a way that made you forget all about Mick.  jenny resumed dancing, her swirling, high spirited gyrations bringing her in and out of the crop's striking range.
i was aware of nothing save the threat of that whip so i didn't understand the implications of Molly spreading alcohol over my breasts.  I only registered the icy coldness as a further reason for my nipples to tighten.  When Molly suddenly pierced my right nipple with a four inch stainless steel skewer i was caught completely off guard.  The explosion of pain in my nipple left me voiceless, unable to object as a second skewer punctured my left nipple several aeon/seconds later.  Suddenly my nipples were each supporting about an ounce of surgical steel.  i watched wide eyed as they started to drip blood, coloring my nipples an even deeper shade of red.  i opened my mouth to scream, intending to use my safety signal but at that precise instant the crop finally struck, low across my belly, so close to my sex that i felt the impact transmitted right into my proudly erect clit.  It was exactly what i needed to give me my first ever orgasm.

* * *

i never did use the safety signal, even when jenny came and replaced the skewers with my new rings.  And i still haven't.  Part of Molly's magic is her ability to give a slave exactly what he or she needs, without going beyond their limits.
Limits are a tricky thing, they shift with my mood.  Sometimes i can only get off if i've had a brutal whipping, others i need only the barest touch to set me off.  Somehow, Molly always knows when to hurt me and where to hurt me and how much to hurt me.  What more could a sex slave ever want?
my reverie ends as i hear the stable door creaking open.  i twist my neck to see who is coming, not that there is a single thing i can do about it.  Gag harnessed, lap trapped and arm bound, i can only lie here and await my fate, whatever it might hold.
What it holds is Dempsey, armed with a doctor's black bag full of toys.  "Up and at em, brenda bump!" He says, lifting me back to my knees.  The first things out of the bag are two small but heavy brass bells.  Hooking the bells to my nipple rings with a pair of S hooks, He holds their weight up for several seconds before suddenly dropping them to tinkle and tug.
i squeal at the weight hanging on my sore nips but Dempsey just chuckles and asks, "What's the matter brenda, too small?  I can find some heavier ones if you want?"
i shake my head "No!" but He is already digging into the bag, searching for what turns out to be a pair of sheep bells, twice as large as the ones i'm wearing.
"How about we go for a jog, just to work out some of the kinks?"  my trainer says, clipping a leash to the D ring attached to the head harness's chin strap.
What i need is a chance to pee but just being able to straighten my knees is pretty good.  Helping me to my high heel clad feet, Dempsey uses a riding crop to direct me out of the stall and into the sunlight of the paddock.
There i find jenny, dressed as i am dressed, in rope and bridle, tethered between two posts, being sponge bathed by her assigned trainer, a guy i only know as His Lordship.  He is the same distinguished looking gentleman i first noticed in the club because of His perfectly cut suit and magnetic aura.
jenny's eyes meet mine, saying all that needs to be said.  we are rival sisters, each is going to try her hardest to win, each knowing she is going to enjoy herself, win, lose or draw.
Chuckling in understanding at what has just transpired between us, Dempsey leads me out to the exercise carousel.  Clipping my lead to one of the overhead bars, He whispers into my blushing ear, "you are going to learn to high step today.  Each of your knees will ring its bell with each step you take or I will punish you with this."  i feel a riding crop strike across my bottom, not hard enough to hurt, but plenty hard enough to convince.
It is as simple as that, being a sex slave means you don't have to plan your day.  When the exercise carousel starts, i start, kicking my knee upward to bounce the bell hanging from my nipple.  The pain in my chest flares, masking, for a few seconds, the waves of lust coming from my hind brain.  Before the thing has lead me twice around i am deep in subspace, unaware that we have been joined by Molly and her camera man, unaware of anything save the need to continue high stepping around the circular path.
After perhaps ten minutes i feel the carousel slowing to a stop.  Having no orders to stop marching, i continue high stepping in place, my every step bouncing my nipple bells, my world one of hypnotic trance, my lust to please my Master overriding my sense of self.
Dempsey comes up behind me and orders me to stop.  i stop, panting and grateful.  Moving the lead clip from under my chin to the top of my head, Dempsey whispers, "I love you brenda." then kneels in the dirt behind me, clips a lead to the anklet on my right foot and pulls my leg up to where He can attach it to the bar of the carousel above my head.  i find myself balanced on the tip-toes of my left foot, hanging from my head harness and right ankle, my pussy completely exposed.
Dempsey opens His fly and releases His pony.  I never get over the thrill of seeing it coming out to play.  He steps up close and toys with me, just brushing its hard hot tip between my red and swollen labia.
i struggle to move toward him, wanting him within my pussy's grip.
He teases me, painting the head of His cock with my juices, tickling parts of me that want so very much more than tickling.
i moan in my frustration and shake my sheep bells, trying to get him to feel sorry for me.
It doesn't work quite the way i hoped it would.  Instead of filling my hungry pussy with His hot cock He pulls out a pair of very large ben-wa balls and a rubber toothed pussy clamp.  Hung up this way I have no chance at all of avoiding the "Mother's Little Helpers".  I feel them enter me, stretching my love muscle and filling my need.
The pussy clamp has been made by adapting a multi-toothed hair clamp.  The pinch of its rubber coated teeth on my pussy lips make me feel as if He's sewn me shut down there.
His work done, Dempsey lets my foot down and once again turns on the carousel, saying, "Remember brenda, ring those bells with every step or your butt will suffer."
What was trance inducing without the ben-wa balls suddenly becomes orgasm inducing with them.  Before my third time around i feel the first one washing away my resistance as a storm surge washes away beach houses.  I cum, unable to stop high stepping, unable to control this, my most intimate function.  Again the stopwatch ticks.

* * *

The last light of evening finds me in a huge four poster bed between my two favorite men.  Waking up with Bull on one side and Dempsey on the other makes me feel lucky, makes me smile with the memory of the pleasures we three shared this day.
i rub my itchy nose against the bedding, wishing i could straighten my poor, abused elbows and knees.  Still tightly gagged, arm bound and lap trapped, i am going absolutely nowhere.  I wish someone would wake up and remember to take me to the little filly's room but know better than to make any demands.
THE RACE! i think, suddenly remembering what is to happen tonight.
As if on cue, Molly walks into the bedroom, dressed as a circus ringmaster.  "Up and at 'em!" She says brightly, opening the drapes to reveal a dull, overcast sunset.  "Tonight is race night and people are coming from all over the state to see which of these bimbos will take the crown."  With that she walks from the room, obviously going next door to wake up jenny and His Lordship.
Bull gets up first and goes into the can, shouting back, "Dempsey, get a move on.  Post time in ninety minutes!"
i am lifted from the bed and carried over Dempsey's shoulder toward the bath.  "My money's on brenda." Dempsey says, slipping His thumb between my well used labia just because He can.  "jenny's held the title for a long time but brenda's got real staying power."
"Ten Grand says jenny keeps the title." Bull says, watching my eyes to see how i react to His words.
Harness gagged i can speak only with my eyes, i try to put as much confidence into my wink as i can,
Sitting me down on the toilet, Dempsey attaches the safety lead to the top of my head harness.  With my legs still in the lap trap i find balancing on the toilet seat a little iffy.  Sure now that i won't fall, i let go my golden stream, thankful for the chance.
The enema is only to be expected.  After all, they do have plans for my colon.  Dempsey gives it to me as Bull resumes His duties as camera man, recording everything that is done to and with my helpless body.
The bath is hot, sudsey and fun but it is over far too quickly.  Then come the hoof boots.

These are special internally braced footwear that allow (force) their wearer to leave hoof prints behind as she walks.
When Dempsey finishes lacing them to my feet i am stood up to discover i have been transformed into a two legged pony, able to walk only with help at first.
He lets me get used to them for a few moments before making me solo.  Bound as i am, i do not want to fall.  Convinced i have the hang of it, He turns and walks back into the bedroom, leaving me wobbling and alone in the bath.  i hurriedly clatter after him, my steel shoes striking sparks on the stone floor.  Kept up on my tiptoes, just walking in these contraptions is an adventure.  i feel a stirring in my loins, a fresh wave of lust washing up out of my groin to submerge my rational self.
Waiting for me in the bedroom is my supper.  I rejoice at the removal of the head harness and suck deeply on the nutrashake, wishing it were a thick steak and potatoes.
After dinner comes the untying of my arms.  Having been bound together behind my back for almost twenty hours, it takes me a little time to remember how to straighten my elbows.  The concept of having hands seems utterly strange to me.
i get no opportunity to explore my new freedom as Dempsey brings my arms up and attaches them to restraint cuffs closely linked to each side of my collar.  As He works Dempsey coaches, "Remember, pacing is everything.  Trying to hold back your orgasms only makes them more powerful."
The ben-wa balls are huge, heavy and battery powered.  i accept them with trepidation, blushing at the pussy fart that escapes me as the air in my vagina is forced out by the twin invading ivory balls.
i'm still trying to get used to the ben-was when He bends me over a table and plants the butt plug, making my poor pooper feel like i'm hosting a vibrating horse cock back there.  i look back and see how the attached tail twitches with my every staggering step.  i also notice that the tail itself consists of several dozen clear plastic filaments, the kind they use for fiber optic lamps.  It is constructed so that it stands up like a bobtail, the filaments hanging down and tickling my rump with my every twitch.
He kneels before me, ordering, "Spread your legs."  i comply, shuddering at the effort of gripping the vibrating balls with my love muscle alone.  He toys with my clit, His fingers coaxing me out of my protective hood.  Before i know what He intends He slides a U shaped clip down over me, trapping me out where my nerve filled clit has no protection whatsoever.
He toys with me, making me jerk, squeal, dance and feel.  i love every nanosecond, slipping deeper into my slave state with every passing pleasure.
my wrists attached up to my collar, i have neither the desire nor a way to protect my body from Dempsey's skillful caresses.  i feel an orgasm lurking, just beyond my reach.  i try to tell him how much i love him only to find myself mute, unable to remember how to form words.  He gets my message all the same, telling me of His love with every touch of His hands, every nibble of my nipples, every hot breath against my sweating skin.
Bull circles us, catching our mating dance on tape.
i stagger, my steel shod feet striking sparks on the stone floor.

Next comes the body harness.  It fits perfectly, hugging my body in a tight, intimate network of white leather straps,  Its function is to decorate more than cover, caress more than protect.  When it is buckled i can finally relax my love muscle, knowing that my mother's helpers can not now fall out.  As the vibrating ball settles lower, it comes into contact with the pussy strap, transmitting the vibrations directly into my clip captured clit, setting me off once almost at once.  Sensing the first convulsions of of my orgasm, the ben-was send a signal to the tail, causing the internal light to come on, lighting the filaments so that i look like i have a bunch of bright red fireflies flying around my ass.
Dempsey hugs me to him, His hands caressing my harnessed body, His manly scent filling my head with desire.  "Good girl brenda, just let them come."

"Post Time!" Shouts Molly from the hallway, to the sound of clattering hoof boots.  "Lets get these bimbos down stairs, where they can earn us some money."
Dempsey clips a lead to my slave collar and says, "Ready?"
i nod, barely able to stand as my continuing orgasm washes the starch from my knees.
Waiting in the hallway i find jenny, standing on His Lordship's leash, booted as i am booted, dressed as i am dressed, her green firefly tail telling the world of her orgasmic condition.  we are led down several flights of stairs, mostly, i suspect, to give the bondage complete mastery over us.  There is a smattering of applause as we are led out onto the the darkness of the guest house veranda, both of our tails twinkling like mad, both of us staggering in the throws of advanced passion.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, please get your bets down for the first race.  It will be a two hundred yard cum stagger, pulling light sleads." Molly says in a ringmaster's voice.  "Winner takes fifty one points toward the five hundred and one point championship."
As usual at times like these, you can hear the dollar signs in Molly's voice.  It doesn't bother me very much, I'm used to Molly's weakness for money.  Besides, somebody has to pay the bills.
Dempsey speaks up, His voice loud enough to be heard in the back of the crowd. "You will notice we are using the twinkle tails tonight."  Forcing me to bend at the waist and present my plugged butt for the crowd's inspection, He continues, "These are each radio linked to the sled each girl will be pulling.  There are rows of spikes attached to the sleds that will drive themselves down into the track whenever the lights are not lit.  The only way the girls have of lighting the lights is by convincing the computerized ben-wa sensors in their pussies that they are orgasmic."
"Thus the only way ether girl can move her sled forward is by maintaining a string of orgasms." says His Lordship, positioning jenny at my side to display her plugged butt along side mine.
The betting is loud and boisterous, we ponies standing restrained and waiting, our tail lights winking out as our orgasmic convulsions subside.
When all the bets are down and registered, we are taken to the sleds.  Drawn by two sulky shafts, the sleds are simply flat bottomed rock hauling sleds, now standing up on the extended spikes attached in lines across each sled's bottom.  we are attached between the sulky shafts, at wrists and waist harness so that we are forced to stand bent and presenting, our shackled hands gripping the shafts on each side of our faces.
As i wait for the starting gun, i consider my situation.  Here i am, hoof booted, stretched out around both a vibrating tail and the ben-wa balls, hitched to a rock sled, getting ready to try and cum my way to the finish line faster than the reigning world's champion.  If she wins i will belong to her for two weeks, if i win, she will belong to me.  Sometimes you just can't lose.
The pop of the gun comes about a tenth of a second before the first pop of Dempsey's whip on my rump.  i lunge into the pull, hoping that because the sleds are still unburdened i might be able to pull it even with the spikes raking the track.  I am rewarded with two staggering steps forward before the angled spikes dig in, slowing me to a stop.  Again the whip pops a sunburst of pain onto my rump, driving me forward, awakening once again my slave passion, sparking my tail alight, sending the signal that snaps the spikes back up into the sled so that i may stagger forward.  With a scream of satisfaction i lunge into the harness, dragging the now smooth bottomed sled down the track as fast as my legs will go, desperately needing to stay ahead of jenny.

* * *

Damn!  i coulda won!  i mean, i had jenny by three lengths in that fourth race, just twenty lousy feet to go.   Then my tail lights switched off and the spikes extended again, dragging me to another sudden stop. i stood there, panting for air, bent over between the draw bars, impatiently waiting for Dempsey to get my motor started again.

Standing harnessed to the sled, i waited for the sting of Dempsey's whip, hoping He could find one more orgasm in me.  jenny went by several seconds later, gasping and vocalizing her passion as she staggered against the weight of her Master standing on her sled.  The sight of her retreating tail lights plus the impact of Dempsey's whip on my strap split sex did the trick and suddenly the twinkle came back to my tail and the sled began once again to slide forward.  But it had taken too long, jenny was two lengths ahead now and there was no catching her.  I was still two lengths behind her when she broke the tape.

That victory, along with the two others she'd won, gave her the two hundred fifty one points she needed to retain her crown.  So here i stand, on stage at the Moll Flanders Club, brenda bump, show girl, the bound property of Molly's jenny, the undefeated Queen of Cum.

As I wait for the curtain to open i wish i could scratch my nose, but with my arms tied together behind my back this is as much a dream as closing my legs or lifting the heavy sheep bells that are stretching my nipples toward the floor.

And i don't like the look of that dildo jack much.  I wish jenny hadn't set it down right there, between my widely spread feet.  The thought of it impaling me like a bug makes my pussy swell and drip.  The gag restrains any protesting i might want to do, not that protesting would do me the slightest good.

The guys in the band finish their drinks and, to the applause of what sounds to be another packed house, file back out to occupy the bandstand.  Dempsey, coming last, comes over and gets his usual finger full of my pussy juice for his mustache.  I wink at him and he grins, saying, "Break a leg brenda." as he follows his band out.

Standing restrained and naked, my ringed nipples painfully stretching south, my ankles closely attached to two tie-down rings so that I cannot run, kick or close myself to the dildo jack, i await the curtain.

jenny, dressed in sandals and chutzpah, is warming up, stretching, getting ready for her dance of passion.

There comes a drum roll, a crash of cymbals and Molly's voice on the PA speakers.  "And now, for your pleasure, My jenny will perform her sheep Bell serenade."

jenny steps into the wings, opens the curtain and waits for the crowd to get a good look at me and my bondage.  she then picks up her riding crop and, to the strains of the Anvil Chorus, dances out onto the stage.  Life simply doesn't get any better than this.