1. Jen is Taken.

Jen woke groggy and sore, she never had such a fretful sleep. It was as if she had slept on a bed of stone. She ached all over and her back felt like she had been pricked by hundreds of pins and needles. When she tried to get out of bed she fell back on the mattress; her head felt like someone was inside, pounding on her skull with a hammer and the room was going round and round.

She knew that she only had two glasses of wine at the party last night; she had more than that at one time or another and felt fine the next morning, so that couldn’t be it. With her eyes half closed and her mind elsewhere, she reached over, grabbed her robe, slipped it on and headed for the bathroom.

She started the water for her shower, turned around facing the long mirror on the door and removed her bathrobe. She couldn’t believe what stared back at her. Around her neck was a thin steel band two inches wide. There were also two-inch wide steel bands around her wrists and ankles. “How in the hell!” she thought. She tried turning them around to find out how they were applied but there was no sign of any kind of lock. They were completely seamless, as if they were made from one solid piece. The collar and cuffs have four rings around them evenly spaced

She tried yanking on them but couldn’t even get her finger under any of the bands or collar. They were a perfect fit, as if they were made just for her. The real shock came when she went to the mirror and examined them up close. Engraved on one side of the front ring of the collar was the word “SLAVE” and on the other side was the word “JEN”.

This can’t be happening, this isn’t real, I must be dreaming. That’s it, this is a nightmare and I will wake up in my bed safe and sound. She then pinched her arm, “OW, damn it, that hurt.” She looked back into the mirror but the collar and bands were still there.

Running from the bathroom, she headed for the door, only to find it locked. Looking around, she realized that this was not her bedroom but an exact copy. “Where the hell am I,” she screamed. Running to the window, she threw open the drapes, only to find that she was facing a brick wall. “What’s going on? Let me out of here,” she demanded, banging on the door.

All was quiet; the only sound heard was her heavy, labored breathing. She tried again banging on the door and screaming but all that answered her was silence. No, this can’t be real; this must be some kind of nightmare. I will wake up and find myself in my own room. In desperation she tried the door again but found it still locked. Jen slowly slid to the floor now sobbing, “Please let me out,” she pleaded. Still the only thing answering her pleas was the silence.

Getting up Jen started to investigate her surroundings; along one wall was the false window, another wall the door to the bathroom, and a door opposite that, if in her own room, would lead to her closet. She cautiously walked over to it and tried to open it only to find it locked. The only other pieces of furniture in the room was a strange looking type of rocking chair that had extra wide rockers along with a high back, a nightstand, and a bureau.

Jen tried to move the bureau but it was as if it was fastened to the floor. Above the bureau was a mirror and when she tried to move it, it too seemed to be fastened to the wall. She next tried the nightstand and that too would not move.

She went and sat on the bed, trying to think this out. ‘I went out with the girls from the office and had a total of two glasses of wine, my usual brand. NO wait, I had three. I danced with that nice looking guy and he bought me a glass. ‘What was his name? ---Yea that’s it, Ken. But he brought me home last night.

‘Damn, my back feels like I was used for a human pin-cushion.” She tried to reach around to scratch the itch but could not reach back far enough to do any good.

As she was sitting on the bed the bottom six-inches of the door slid open and a tray of food was slid into the room. She jumped up and ran to the door just as the panel closed. “Who’s out there, please let me out?” No answer. She screamed out, “Whoever is out there, let me out, now!” Still no answer came forth. “Please let me go and I won’t tell anyone.” Still the only response she received was silence. “Why are you doing this? What do you want? If its money, I’ll give you all that I have? ‘Yeah right,’ she thought, ‘all I got is a measly fifteen hundred in my savings and no rich uncle to pay a ransom demand. Why would anyone want to kidnap me?’

Jen bent down and picked up the tray of food and placed it on the nightstand. On the tray was a bowl of soup, a sandwich, and a glass of milk. It was then that she noticed the note neatly folded on the tray. She opened the note and read it.

Dear Jen:

You have been chosen to fulfill one of my wildest fantasies. You will now belong to me in every way possible, body, mind, and soul.

‘Oh God, why me, what have I done? Who? Why?’ she said to herself. She got up, banged on the door and shouted out, “Who are you? Why am I here and where is here? No answer came forth. I won’t eat, I’ll starve myself before I belong to anyone.” Still no one answered.

Determined not to eat she started to carefully examine the room. On the headboard of the bed were two sets of rings about four-feet apart, one set even with the mattress and the other set around two feet above them. At the foot of the bed was another set of rings and these were over four-feet apart. She opened the drawer of the nightstand but it was empty. Next she tried the bureau but its drawers were locked.

“Is this all I’m going to be allowed to wear, this bathrobe?” she shouted out to no one in particular.

Jen next decided to try out the rocker. It was a strange looking affair; the seat itself was extra long but just wide enough to sit on. When she sat on it the back reached at least two feet above her head and the arms were over three feet long. She again tried the closet but as surmised, it was still locked.

She returned to the bed and sat down. ‘I’ve got to figure this out. Friday night, as usual, I called the girls and we went out, I paid for the drinks, as usual, we had two glasses of wine each, met Ken and had another glass of wine. We danced some, he took me home and---and---and then what happened next? Damn, I can’t remember!

She was staring up at the ceiling and that’s when she noticed them, two cameras, one on each far corner watching everything she did. Turning around she saw two more cameras. “You horny bastard, you want to see more?” She threw open the robe and tossed it on the floor. “There, have a good look you pervert.” As she did one of the cameras zoomed in for a close up. “Wha? – You son-of-a-bitch!” She screamed at the camera. “Let me out of here!” The only sound was her voice reverberating off the walls.

About five hours have now passed when the slot on the door opened again and another tray was slid in. Jen ran to the door but by the time she got there the slot was closed and locked. She picked up the tray and placed it on the bureau. She lifted the cover and on the tray was two pieces of chicken, mashed potatoes and corn, along with a glass of water. “I’m not hungry and won’t eat,” she shouted back at the camera. It must have been ten minutes when her stomach growled back at her. ‘Damn that sure smells good.’ She got up and headed for the bureau, reached for a piece of chicken but stopped. “No, I won’t eat!” She heard her stomach again. ‘Well maybe the water won’t be considered eating,’ she thought to herself. She downed the water in one gulp.

She went back to the bed and sat down. She looked at the food sitting on the bureau, ‘Am I dumb or what, wasting all that food he won’t poison me, he wants me alive.’

She awoke feeling refreshed and rested, like she slept for days. She stretched out under the covers, the nice warm sheets, soft and smooth. ‘The covers, how the hell did I get under the covers?’ Jen jumped out of bed, looked down and yelled, “What the hell is this, some kind of sick perverted joke?” She was now incased in a bright, shinny, stainless steel chastity belt. Even her vaginal lips were denied to her, hidden behind the belt’s outer shield. No matter how hard she tugged and pulled, the belt would not budge.

Sinking to the floor she started to pound on the groin strap out of pure frustration; the only thing she accomplished was to hurt her hand. Getting up, it was then that she felt the burning pain in her nipples and the itching sensation in her nose. She reached up to scratch her nose and that’s when she felt it, the ring hanging blaringly from between her nostrils. Looking down she now saw what was causing the burning pain in her breasts. From each pierced nipple hung a stainless steel ring with a sleigh bell attached.

Without her robe, she started towards the mirror over the bureau to examine these monstrous additions to her body. After closely examining them she couldn’t detect any way they were attached, it was as if they were made from one solid piece.

Looking into the mirror she now noticed what was causing the itching across her upper back and shoulders, there was a tattoo going from shoulder to shoulder and down onto her breasts stopping at the tips of her nipples. The tattoo was a bouquet of flowers shaped like a ‘U’, like the ones you would see around the neck of a horse that won a race.

It was then that she totally lost it. She huddled in one corner; her knees pulled up to her chest, and wept uncontrollably. “Who are you? Why are you doing this to me? Please let me go, I won’t tell anyone, I won’t tell the cops, ever, I promise. Please.”

Just then the slot under the door opened and another tray was slid in. On the tray was a bowl of oatmeal, toast, coffee and orange juice. There was also a banana, along with some strawberries and grapes.

It was then that Jen noticed that the other two trays were removed. She placed this tray on the nightstand and sat on the bed. By now she figured she might as well eat, there was no way she was going to be let out of this room. Was this going to be her prison for the rest of her life?

Finishing the food she noticed another note, she picked it up and read:

Dear Jen:

Just to inform you, I am neither a bastard nor am I a son-of-a-bitch. Although perverted I might be, I will never harm you or let anyone else harm you in any way. You are a most beautiful women and I will transform you into the true thoroughbred that you are.

Right now I want you to open the drawer to the bureau and put on the shoes that you will find there. You will lace them up and then lock them on with the padlocks you see there. If you trust me, do this, now.

Jen got up from the edge of the bed and opened the bureau drawer, inside was a pair of black, high-heels that must have at least a seven-inch heel. Jen never wore shoes with such high heels. She put them on, and to her surprise they fit perfectly. She laced them up and with some hesitation, she locked them on. Standing, she was on her tiptoes. She now tried to walk in them and fell flat on her ass. Crawling back to the bed and, try as hard as she might, she could not remove the shoes; they were there to stay.

It was then the sensation hit her; she had to pee. ‘Oh no, not now!” With sheer determination and willpower she stood up and headed towards the toilet. Concentrating, with all the willpower she could muster, and taking slow steady steps, she made it all the way without falling, once. Now straddling the toilet, she squatted and the pee flowed from her.

What would happen next she had no idea? The only thing to do was sit on the bed or the rocker. She walked over to the rocker and sat down. It was strange sitting on the seat; it felt like she was sitting on a narrow shelf, she had to rest her arms and hands on the arms of the chair and hold on just to prevent herself from sliding off.

This lasted for fifteen or twenty minutes before she started to get bored going back and forth. Getting up she headed back to the bed and laid down. This lasted even less time, she jumped up - bad mistake - she landed flat on her butt. “Don’t want to do that again,” she said to no one in particular, rubbing her sore posterior. “Only thing hurt is my pride.”

‘Just take small sure steps and no sudden moves.’ Jen was surprised at how good she was getting walking in these strange boots; they were surprisingly comfortable, were form fitting and, laced as tight as they were, gave amazing support to her ankles.

As she was walking around, she began to sing to herself, recite poetry and tell stupid jokes. ‘I must be loosing it; I’m going stir crazy. I know, I’ll take a nice hot shower, at least I’ll feel better.’ Twenty minutes later Jen walked out from the bathroom and another tray of food along with another note was slid under the door. “Please show yourself; I’ve been good; I did everything you asked of me. Jen read the note before eating.

Dear Jen:

I was watching you walking in your new boots; you are doing amazingly well for the short time that you have been here. Your rings look lovely on you, and your bells sound heavenly when you walk. I hope you like your belt; you will be wearing it for a long time?

If you behave yourself, eat all your lunch and diner; I will introduce myself to you shortly. After lunch I want you to sit on the rocker with your arms out to your sides and bent up at a ninety-degree angle. You will stay in that position for a total of ninety minutes. Just remember, I will be watching you. Do this because you want to please me.

After lunch Jen went over to the rocker and sat down. She put her arms up as ordered and sat. It was difficult at best; she had to dig her toes into the carpet so she wouldn’t slide off the seat.

It was hell sitting in that awkward position, but sit she did. Time seemed to stand still; it felt as though she was there for hours on end. Suddenly from the ceiling came a voice, an electronically manufactured voice, “Jen, time is up, you did splendidly; you may put your arms down and stand.”

When Jen tried to put her arms down her muscles cramped up, try as she might, she could not lower them. When she tried, pain shot straight up her arms. It was a half-hour before she was able to lower her arms and ease the pain.

Jen now walked over to the bed and started to sit down. The same voice came from the speakers, “Do not sit on the bed. You may sit on the rocker, the floor or walk around. From now on the bed is to be used only for sleeping. This is an order!”

‘The hell with you,’ thought Jen as she sat on the bed. Just then a terrible shock shot through her from the belt. She screamed as she jumped from the bed. It was as if a bolt of lightning shot up her pussy and ass at the same time. “Who the hell are you? Why are you doing this to me?”

The voice sounded again. “That is just a sample of what is in store for you if you do not do as told. I do not want to have to discipline you again, but if you disobey me I will be obliged to punish you. Now be a good girl and no more harm will come to you. Your supper will be served shortly.”

Jen decided that that shock was enough, she would do as she was told. She walked around the room for some exercise, and because there was nothing else to do. She next tried the rocker, no shock. ‘At least I can sit on the rocker even though it is not the most comfortable thing to sit on.’

Just then the slot under the door opened and a tray was slid in. Jen ran to the door but she was not fast enough, the slot closed just as she got there. On the tray this time was a bowl of dry oats, a bowl of dry barley, some raw vegetables and fruits. There was also a bowl of water, along with another note.

“What the hell is this? Am I supposed to eat this stuff? Jen read the note first:

Dear Jen,

From now on your diet will consist mostly of oats, barley, raw vegetables and fruits. If you eat all your meal you will find that you will not be hungry. For a treat, since you were a good girl I mixed some honey in with your oats. Now eat all your supper, drink your water and then you may lay down on the bed and rest.

When Jen started to eat she found that the food was actually quite tasty and as she found out, was quite filling. She hesitantly laid down on the bed and found that she received no shock.

Jen awoke some time later, realizing that she must have dozed off. She tried to get up but found that she was tightly bound; her back against the headboard and her wrists tied the same way they were when sitting on the rocker. Her ankles were tied to the foot of the bed in a spread-eagle position. Around her head was a full bridle. A strap went around her forehead and locked in place. Another strap went over her head, down under her chin and also locked in place. The worst thing was the bit that rested in her mouth and was held in place by a strap that was locked behind her head. No matter how hard she tried, she could not dislodge the bit from her mouth. Around her waist was a leather corset that was laced so tight; her normal twenty-three inch waist was a mere nineteen inches. It was then that she noticed that the chastity belt was removed but what horrified her most was that her nice patch of strawberry blonde hair was gone. Both her labia lips were pierced and three rings on each side were inserted and locked to form a sort of chastity type closure. Looking down towards her feet, instead of the toe boots her feet now sported what looked like horse hoofs and shoved up in her ass, a tail.

She tried to scream but all that came out was muffled sounds.

“Good morning Strawberry,” came a woman’s voice from the doorway. She stood about five-foot ten, with black hair that reached to the small of her back, and her dazzling brown eyes shown like glass. She has high cheekbones and a clear flawless olive complexion. She was gorgeous. “I’m glad to see that you are awake. Did you have a good night’s sleep? My you look so lovely now that you are fully decorated. Be a good little pony and I will release you so that you may stand.”

Jen nodded her head ‘Yes’ and the woman released her ankles and wrists from the bed then stepped back.

“Now stand up straight and tall and let me see just how lovely a pony you are.”

Jen couldn’t believe what the woman had just said, “How lovely a pony you are!” No, this can’t be real; I was turned into a horse, a human horse!

“Come over here, “Strawberry”, so that I might finish with your transformation. When finished you will be the prettiest pony ever. I want you to high-step while walking; raise your knees even with your hips and your pretty hoofs straight down. I want you to prance over to me like the pretty show pony you are.”

Jen did as told and pranced over to the woman who then turned Jen around and laced her arms into a leather singleglove. She laced it so tight that Jen’s elbows were nearly touching. Straps from the glove went over the shoulder, crossed in front, brought back under the armpits and locked to the glove.

Jen, or, “Strawberry,” as the woman called her, was led over to the full-length mirror, a three-sided mirror was placed behind her so she could see all parts of herself at the same time. When she looked into the mirror you could see the look of horror on her face, both sides of her head were shaved, leaving a two-inch strip down the middle in the form of a mane.

It was then Strawberry saw how intricate and colorful the tattoo across her back and shoulders was. As she turned sideways she could see another tattoo on her left hip. This tattoo was that of a ponygirl, facing sideways, trussed up as she, facing forward in a high-stepping stance.

Strawberry had to look close at this tattoo, ‘Yes’ it was her image on her hip, they tattooed her own likeness into the image of this ponygirl.

The most shocking was the three lines tattooed on her groin in bright, dark blue script. The top line was the name, her name, ‘Strawberry Rose.’ The second line, ‘Property of.’ And the last line, ‘Keystone Ranch.’

‘Keystone Ranch, I remember that name, it must be over fifteen years sense I heard that name,’ thought Jen. ‘It was owned by my parents who sold it to an Indian couple that had a scrawny little girl with buckteeth and pigtails. I used to pick on her mercifully and called her Bucky. No, it can’t be her, this woman is gorgeous; they live in New Mexico, this is New York.

“So, you’re starting to remember aren’t you? Do you remember my Indian name, ‘Morning Star?’ Remember what you used to call me? Well At least I picked out a name for you that is more fitting for your new station in life.

“Mom and Pop passed away a few years back; I inherited the ranch and hired a private detective to find you. Took some time but look at you now. Did you know that two-and-a-half weeks ago you wrote your boss, told him that you quit your job and moved to L.A. Tomorrow morning we will be heading to your new home. You’ll love it there, riding the range, pulling a cart around and enjoying the great outdoors.”

Jen, now know as ‘Strawberry Rose’ was dumbfounded, this can’t be happening, this isn’t real. Nobody can just kidnap someone and get away with it. This is New York, the city that never sleeps, someone will see me being kidnapped and call the police. We’ll never be able to leave the city.

Three o’clock that morning ‘Strawberry’ was fitted with a ball-gag and then placed into a steamer trunk and the lid locked. She was now ready for her trip out West. Two men helped get the trunk loaded into the back of Morning Star’s SUV and off she went to her home and the new home of her prized acquisition, ‘Strawberry Rose’.

An hour later the loft was cleared out. Nobody would ever know that a strawberry blonde pony was born in the heart of Manhattan.