How long can I keep hiding from them the fact that I enjoy this sensation? She almost shuddered with pleasure as she slid her arm into the rubber lined sleeve... 

“Wakey, wakey, sleepyhead!” she heard through the mists of a throbbing head and the aches from a body that felt strangely unmoving “Trust you like your new digs gal” a strangely familiar voice added “better get used to them – you’re here for a while!” Looking up from her position prone on the hard straw-lined floor she made out the form of her old riding mistress from pony club, Ms Hawkesbury, clad as always in her full length riding mac, with her hair perfectly coiffed, and regulation string of pearls around her neck. In her leather gloved right hand she held a riding crop which she was tapping against her immaculately polished black boots.

Lifting her head she felt a strange tug at her neck, and heard something rattle, panicking now she tried to lift her hand to find out what was going on, but her arms were secured behind her back “Won’t move much – have to keep you tethered you see.”

“What in the Hell is going on?”

The question was answered by a vicious slash to her bare breasts from the riding crop. “Basic rules gal – remain silent until given permission to speak, which won’t be often! Do everything you are told when you are told, and address me as Mistress – understood?” Another slash from the crop. “I said understood?”

“Yes mistress.”

“Good, now, your chain will reach that corner over there – that’s where you relieve yourself. I’ll leave you now to think over your predicament – don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” With that she turned on her heel and left the tiny room, locking the door behind her. The young woman sank back in the straw as the light was switched off, and sobbed herself to sleep.

It was the simple pleasures she lived for now – slipping on the rubber lined coat as she was “settled down”, that indescribable feeling of soft cool rubber on bare skin, and the mixed feelings of security and helplessness as buckles were tightened and locks locked, and she was left to her thoughts and fantasies.

She had no idea how long she had been here – she had only been outside twice that she could recollect – once in daylight, and once on a mild moonlit night – the rest of the time she was indoors under artificial lighting, turned on and off at the whim of Mistress. Instead of days and nights, she thought now of time passing in “sessions”; sessions of training, sessions of pleasing Mistress, and sessions of being “settled down”.

She thought back about the road that had brought her to this point – some she remembered, some from listening to Mistress (whom she now knew was in fact Lady Hawkesbury of Hawkesbury Manor). An only child, she had risen to the position of office manager in a well known city firm. Recently orphaned, she had decided to take an indefinite leave from her work, and undertake travel and overseas work experience. The last thing she could remember before being stirred awake by Mistress was leaving her farewell function in a taxi. Her second session with Mistress consisted of Mistress pacing around her tiny stall telling her facts that crushed her spirit.

She had been spotted at pony club, and every facet of her life monitored from that time. The accident in Europe that took her parents lives was no accident – but a carefully planned removal to facilitate her unnoticed capture; her planned travel just played into the hands of the organisation that now held her captive making everything easier. Someone looking very like her had taken the planned flight down under, and in the fullness of time would contact her work offering a full resignation – literally she had slipped off the face of the earth!

While at the depths of her mental low, she had been taken to another part of the facility, had her beautiful long raven hair cropped and fashioned into a mane, and her pubic hair removed – depilatory cream was applied to those areas where hair was not desired. If she were able to look in a mirror she would see herself resembling a Mohawk brave, complete with a large ring through her septum. Her nipples, and labia also now sported rings, while locked on her feet were a pair of equine boots, something she was gradually becoming used to wearing. Her arms, apart from when donning her coat, were either fastened behind her in an arm-binder while training or pleasing Mistress; or manacled while “settled down” to avoid any chance of her pleasing herself.

Mistress informed her that the facility was purpose built for the training of suitable young women to become personal assistants for the gentry. It fast became obvious that any “assistance” provided to the gentry would be what the young woman had previously considered sexually deviant, but was fast becoming an every day occurrence for her – she was being trained as a pony girl. She was informed that her suitability for training had been identified due to not only her natural beauty, but also her athletic physique and prowess, and despite her natural leadership ability, an inclination to being submissive.

Her first training session commenced with her being led with a halter attached to the stiff leather collar around her neck to a small room with a trestle arrangement in the middle of the floor; her feet were shackled to the legs of the trestle and her bound arms attached to an overhead rope, which was wound up to end with her being bent over the trestle – and there she was left for what seemed an age. Whilst not being at all comfortable she drifted off in a sort of daze, only to be brought around by a searing pain in her buttocks, followed quickly by five more.

“Old fashioned six of the best m’gal” she heard through her wails, “Just a taste of what will happen if you break the rules” With that she felt a gloved hand probing her most private parts, and tried to buck in her restraints. “Hold still for goodness sake gal” Mistress shouted, “Pleasure should always follow pain, unless the punishment is deserved – and this was only a demonstration” continuing with her fondling. “I get the distinct feeling we are a bit moist below decks as it were – like a bit of pain do we?” Whack! “I asked you a question gal!”

“Nno nnot really Mistress”

“Hmmm we will see” said Mistress thoughtfully and continued with the fondling, gradually beginning to thrust her fingers deeper until the young woman began to respond with counterthrusts. “I can’t be enjoying this, I just can’t” she thought, but her actions betrayed her until she was thrashing in her bonds. “Permission to squeal gal” shouted Mistress, and with that the young woman saw the universe explode in her head, and she let out an almighty yell and collapsed.

“Better lick these clean gal” the Mistress thrust her latex covered fingers in front of the young woman’s lips, “How disgusting” she thought, but when her enquiring eyes met a waving crop, she meekly extended her tongue, and licked her own juices from the offered fingers. “There, not all bad is it?” enquired Mistress, “better get you tidied up then” and with that she was led back to her stall. This time however things were different, she was wiped down with a damp towel, some soothing ointment applied to her bottom, and for the first time offered what looked to her like an old fashioned trench-coat to wear.

“This is weird” she thought, being careful not to express her thoughts out loud for fear of the crop. “I will undo your hands, slip on the coat – don’t struggle or you’ll be back to the trestle before you can blink! That’s it, we’ll have you snug in no time” said Mistress, holding out the coat for her. Wearing what she later was to learn was a posture collar, the young woman could only see directly in front of her, so didn’t observe the intricate harness attached to the waist of the coat. Having had enough pain for one day, and with her rear still smarting, she obediently slipped her right arm into the offered sleeve, only to almost pull it out immediately due to the cool slippery inner – but she dared not.

“For goodness sake get on with it gal” Mistress had noticed the hesitation!

Immediately the young woman plunged one arm after the other into the sleeves, despite the discomfort. “Right, let’s have you done up then!” Mistress locked her hands behind her back, and moved in front of her. “Just a few little accessories, and we’ll be all ship shape” Mistress said, and undid the buttons on the coat’s gun-flaps. In a trice she had grabbed the ring on the right breast threaded it through a buttonhole beneath the flap and locked it in place with a tiny padlock. She repeated the procedure with the left, then buttoned the flaps back down. “Right, bend over gal, need to fix the harness.”

“A coat with a harness – what next” thought the young woman – her answer came in the form of a handful of lube, something pulled tight between her legs, and two quick and uncomfortable intrusions followed by the click of a lock “There, fixed fore and aft!”. Mistress moved around in front again, did up all the buttons , buckled the collar strap, pulled the belt as tight as she could, tucking the end away neatly, and did up the leg straps. With that she stood back admiring her handiwork; “Aren’t we the secure one” she said, and without waiting for an answer kissed the young woman on the lips. “Right, now it’s my turn gal” she said.

“Her turn?” The young woman was still reeling from the shock of being kissed on the lips by another woman, but before she knew it she was directed to kneel, Mistress was unbuttoning her own mac, and clipping the young woman’s nose ring to her own corset arrangement. She found the thought of a lesbian relationship repugnant, but the drama of the moment, combined with the mixed aroma of old rubber and aroused female had her tongue darting towards the older woman’s sex in no time, “That’s it gal – a stroke of the crop for every hesitation!” The rubber lined coat was beginning to work its magic on the young woman, as her torso heated she felt a pleasant stimulation from her locked nipples, and although she found difficulty in breathing her tongue flicked faster and faster, until in no time Mistress was squealing in delight, and collapsing in the straw, pulling her young charge down with her.

Sometime later she felt Mistress unclip her, tether her to the neck chain and quietly slip out of the stall. Fully awake, and partially aroused, with the delicate rubbing of her nipples as she breathed, the filled cavities below throbbing, and the lingering glow in her buttocks she began to learn how frustrating life can be. What a session – not only had she already been kidnapped and held against her will, but now whipped and loved; dressed in a bizarre fashion, pleasuring another woman almost of her own volition; emotions torn between pleasure and pain – but most of all, the stirrings of an inner feeling that could well have a mind of its own! She drifted back to sleep with Mistress’ comment about it not all being bad echoing in her head.

“Mistress left here with a smile on her face” smirked the groom as he entered the stall – she reeled back as far as she could, not having been alone with a groom before – “Don’t worry love, if I so much as touch you the old fella will be locked away for a month!” “Well actually I do have to touch you, but not in that way.” Her sigh of relief was audible, and the groom immediately set about unlocking and unbuttoning her. “Don’t try anything” he said as he unlocked her wrists, pointing to the tiny camera above the door that had previously gone unnoticed. Immediately she was overwhelmed by that crushing feeling of despair – every move she had made, every time she relieved herself, she was being watched; how utterly devastating it was to find that all privacy had been stripped away.

Coat removed she was now allowed to eat – difficult without using her hands – but she was hungry, and the chopped fruit and oatmeal disappeared quickly, followed by a long slug on the strategically placed water bottle. “Better make use of the opportunity to empty yourself” said the groom, “there won’t be another for a while.” Her hesitation was met with a wry smile “Seen it all before Miss” he said as he brushed off the coat and hung it to air. “Mistress needed extra rest if you know what I mean, but she’ll be along shortly, interesting day planned I’d say.” And with that he left and locked the door.

She was now too embarrassed to want to go to the toilet, but she was bursting, and couldn’t hold on so furtively trudged to the end of her chain and squatted with her back to the door, which at that moment burst open “Good gal, need to have a good clean out, lot’s to be done.” Absolutely shattered, she looked up to see Mistress stride in looking neat as a new pin. “All part of the training gal – no secrets and all that. Now we’re off to the tack room to get you fitted out. Let’s look at those piercings - mmmm nicely healed” and with that clipped the halter to the young woman’s nose ring, and detached the chain from her collar, “Late start, so follow me and don’t dawdle” and set stride out the door and down a passageway. She struggled along on two counts – she was still getting used to her hoof boots, and was hard put to keep up with Mistress; and she could hardly see through the tears streaming from her eyes caused by her smarting septum. She was also struggling with the fact that Mistress had hardly given her the time of day – such a contrast to the last time they had been together.

The tack room was almost identical to the one with the trestle, but had two poles standing in the middle of the room instead. She was positioned between these poles, and her arms shackled just above shoulder height, one to each pole. Likewise, her boots were affixed to the bottom of the poles. Her collar was removed - replaced by an even stiffer, even more constricting one if that was possible – she would not be able to turn her head without turning her whole body. Next came a stiff leather corset, with straps connecting to her collar both front and back, and was laced and buckled so tight she could only take short, shallow breaths. Half cups on the top front of the corset had the effect of both lifting and supporting her breasts. All this was taking some time, and she felt herself drifting away and thinking of what she had planned for her overseas trip – camel rides in the outback, diving off the Great Barrier reef, and adventure tourism in New Zealand.

Oblivious to what was going on around her, a sharp slash to her breasts interrupted her reverie, gasping she felt her mouth filled with a metal bit – the harness to which it was attached quickly buckled behind her head. Blinkers on the harness cut out all side vision – she would have to sense anything moving to the left or right of her. Chains from the poles were attached to her collar, and her wrists were unlocked, but relief was temporary as her arms were brought behind her and encased in a single-glove extending above her elbows. A tray carrying a strange rubber apparatus with black hair protruding from one end filled what vision she had left – a second glance revealed it was human hair, the colour of which was very familiar! “Didn’t need it at the top, so we’ll put it to use at the bottom” chuckled Mistress. With that she was unchained from the poles, bent over, applied with lube, and the rubber bung inserted in her anus; quickly followed by a dildo in the front, then both held firmly in place with a strap running from the front base of her corset to a ring on the tip of her arm-binder.

With her boots now detached from the poles she was ordered to step forward and turn around, there in front of her was a human pony with the name ‘Raven’ stitched into the headband of her harness – she was looking directly into a full length mirror. “Right, both movement and speech impeded; one stomp for a yes – two for a no – do you like what you see?” Two stomps. “Well I do, and we’ll see how many stomps in a few weeks!” said Mistress “But now for some exercise” and with that the halter was once again clipped to her nose ring and Raven was led away to the exercise arena. What followed was an exhausting session of treadmill, followed by pacing, back to the treadmill, more pacing, interspersed with the odd flick of a carriage whip, until Raven was really blowing. “Well done gal, enough for your first crack at it” said Mistress, and led her back to her stall, where she was unbuckled from her harness, hosed down, fed, emptied, and settled down.

And so it went, a continuum of exercise, training, some punishment, some pleasing of Mistress (but none for herself), and being settled down. New elements were gradually introduced to her training, like high-stepping, and pulling a sulky, and always it was stimulating – almost arousing – but never relief. Sometimes she pined for that first time she was settled down in her coat; she never accepted the coat gladly, for fear of it being taken away as a punishment, and sometimes she refused it so she could take a few lashes before she submitted to wearing it; that way she settled with the warmth of a smarting rear. Always she went to sleep aching with frustration.

She had always kept up a fitness regime, and in normal circumstances would have breezed through the training and exercise, but with a restrictive harness and hoof-boots things weren’t so easy. However as time went by she became fitter, and apart from her almost useless arms, stronger – she could effortlessly high-step around the arena lap after lap, and take Mistress for sulky rides lasting an hour or more even on the uneven terrain outdoors. She often asked herself why she complied so easily to this bizarre way of life, after all she didn’t really fear the crop anymore although she didn’t much like the thought of the bull-whip she had spied in the trestle room. No, she had to admit, it was the hope of a reward along the lines of that first training session, and knowing that no matter what she was put through there was always settling down in the coat she had grown to love as a cuddly blanket.

After one particularly arduous session outdoors in the sulky as she was being settled down Mistress casually remarked that she had now been here six months, and it was time to “test the market.” What followed was a procession of both male and female gentry, examining her both in and out of harness, testing her both in the arena and the sulky, and her pleasing them orally. She had to stand meekly as her breasts and sex were poked, prodded, stroked and fondled for fear of a whipping, but the part she most dreaded was the sulky rides out of the view of Mistress. On some of these occasions she had been over-worked and whipped unnecessarily, and always returned to a glare from Mistress. At these times Mistress would whisper in her ear “They certainly don’t cut the mustard!” and she would be massaged with ointment before being settled.

On awakening after another particularly unpleasant experience, Mistress came quietly into her stall, “Need a heart to heart gal” she said hesitantly, “You have permission to speak at any time but please don’t interrupt when I am talking”

“Can I ask a question please Mistress?”

“That’s a good way to start gal, ask away”

“What will happen if no-one wants me?”

“See that’s the thing gal – they all want you – I just don’t think they are good enough for you. Fact is, got a bit attached to you m’self you see – haven’t had one like you before; good at everything, exceptional at some, and smart enough to hide pleasures by being just naughty enough….”

The bright glow on Raven’s cheeks wasn’t from arousal this time – her little game had been blown – and she was embarrassed to say the least.

“Can’t hide much from this old gal – knew it from that first hesitation, but have to admire you for your cheek! Anyway, put in a tender for you and made sure I won, so it’s off to the big house for you!”

With that Mistress undid the chain from her collar, clipped the halter to her nose ring, and strode out to a waiting Range Rover. She helped Raven into a back seat buckled her in and slammed the door “Just wait till I get you home gal” she roared. Once inside with the motor started she said “That last bit was for the staff – have to keep them on their toes y’see!” Once they were inside the manor Mistress unlocked Raven’s arms – they were free for the first time in months, but she could hardly move them. “One test first – one stomp or two” once more Raven’s cheeks coloured as she lifted her foot and brought it down once only “Ha ha, thought so - told you didn’t I?” Stomp.

They both grinned, and Raven followed Mistress into a plush drawing room with a sofa and comfortable chairs. “Coffee?”

“Please, I hope I can hold a cup”

“You’ll get feeling in no time” “Heading down under when we took you weren’t you? Often thought I’d like a trip to the south seas m’self, but His Lordship spends all his time in the city, most of it with bimbos I wouldn’t wonder, so I would need a companion…” Mistress almost mused to herself “Know anyone that could help?”

“Do you mean… what about appearances…”

“Rings come, rings go, take a close look” Mistress bent right over to Raven and pointed to her nose, sure enough there was a scar in her septum – it was obvious she had worn a ring there once, then with a flourish removed her immaculately coiffed wig, to show a scalp that had once sported a mane. “His Lordship tired of me years ago, so with the help of some associates set up the riding school and stables, put me in charge for appearances, then buggered off to his bimbos in the city. Good riddance I say!”

Raven had almost recovered from the shock when Mistress announced “So this is the deal – we forget all this training lark, you stay with me in the big house, we sort out the rings and such, then do this overseas trip.”

“What about my identity – there can’t be two of me”

“We can sort that too, friends in the right places y’see, anyway can’t back out now, bought first class tickets to Sydney this morning! Now, not another word, let’s get those damn boots off and get upstairs.” What followed was a prolonged and totally unfettered repetition of that first encounter all those months ago. When they had recovered, Raven was directed to her room across the hallway, and to enjoy a shower while Mistress organised a bottle of bubbles. Coming out of the shower drying off the remains of her hair, she noticed two wardrobes, a double to the right and a single to the left of a massive four poster, sneaking a look she found her pony tack and coat in the double, and a pair of designer jeans and a top in the other. “Not much to wear I’m afraid – have to hit the High Street tomorrow, hell a gal’s got to have some pleasures in life” She spun around to see Mistress watching from the doorway, “Got the bubbles on ice, slip into whatever’s comfortable, and come downstairs, have to get to know each other socially” Mistress said with a knowing wink, and ambled off.

What to wear, what would Mistress expect? In the end she decided on the jeans and top, which would leave her something to look forward to. “Wise choice m’dear” said Mistress who was similarly clad, handing her a glass as she stepped into the drawing room “A kind wish” raising her own glass. “So, is it Samantha or Sam?”

“Most of my friends call me Sammy, Mistress”

“Sammy it is then, and by the way, while we are in civvies the name’s Marjory – plenty of time for Raven and Mistress later. Speaking of which, follow me and watch the steps.” Sammy followed Marjory down the hallway to a door beside the stairs which Marjory unlocked and opened. Down some steep stone steps she flicked a light switch and there before them was a replica of the stall Sammy had spent all those months in, and beside it was a replica of the punishment room. “We can wear our other gear down here – have to keep our hand in won’t we? Tell you why upstairs.”