An excerpt from: LADY MORGANA'S SLAVEGIRL
by Bruce McLachlan
- Provided for use on SirJeff's Ponygirls.
- Do not use without the author's permission.
- Find the full book at Olympia Press.
Samantha pulled back so that the chains snapped taut. She yanked from side to side, testing the parameters of her uniform. It was all very secure and the more she resisted, the more excited and lost to the mindset of being a pet she became. Each tug, each struggle, each curtailed attempt to break free proved again and again with undeniable clarity that she was utterly controlled and owned. She was helpless to the wants of Master Talon. Whatever he wished of her, he could extract it with ease.
Writhing lasciviously within her bondage, she savoured its constriction and containment. With frustration and ebullience, she yearned to continue her exploration of this new role. Samantha listened to the sounds of her brethren in the other stalls - their whinnies and cries, their muted and muffled howls and screams of ecstasy or agony. Samantha pictured herself in some of the places she had spied upon her entry. She relocated her body to the booths where the pony was virtually entombed in leather and latex, where metal sockets at groin, rear and nipple allowed shivering tubing to attach and apply their effects. She tugged at her bonds and imagined that she had been picked up from the streets, bound against her will and told that she would ever more be a ponygirl.
The bolt was thrown and the door to her small chamber was hauled aside to distract her from her rota of intricately woven fantasy. Master Talon appeared and attached a set of lunge reins to her bit. He curled the excess loops into his hand and removed the chains. Talon then removed the links that impeded her steps and set them aside.
Talon took up a lunge whip in the other hand. The main body of the whip was a four-foot woven and rigid length. The next couple of feet were pliant and flexible before the weapon became a brief length of wiry cord.
Bringing the cord back to the handle, he grabbed it to fold the weapon neatly into a long oval and then pulled Samantha after him without word.
Samantha was led out of the stable, onto the grass and into the sunlight. The warm radiance of the sun created a cosy glow on her skin and made her eyes flutter with dissipation. Samantha basked in the glorious sunshine and took in the lush green surroundings with all the intensity and gratitude of a child seeing such open countryside for the first time in their lives.
Samantha was stopped and Master Talon paid out the woven length of rein until he was stood back from his charge. The whip then stretched out and slithered upon the grass.
Stepping away, Samantha reached the limit of the reins and gave some deliberate pulls against them. Talon tightened his hold and flicked the whip. The cord gave a startlingly loud crack right by her feet. Samantha gave a short croak of fright and danced on her heels.
'Come on, pony. Walk for me,' he commanded.
The whip was deployed again and flicked to bring another loud snap by her feet. Talon was accomplished with the weapon and it was clear that he could easily apply it to her should she continue to resist. The signal of the whip cracks by her toes reminded her of cowboys shooting around a farmers feet and commanding them to dance. Samantha could imagine how horrendously it would sting should the whip actually flick its mordant tip to her skin and so with hesitant steps she started to obey.
Shuffling forward, the snap of the whip continued to sound around her hooves, making her frightened but also making her timid steps bolder.
'Head up, pony,' he ordered as another note of encouragement sounded dangerously close to her flank. The proximity had Samantha's chin flick up and her eyes to meet the tops of the trees as she trusted his judgement and continued to walk forward.
'Knees up,' he stated and she felt the solid portion of the whip tap her thighs.
Even though it was an intimidating chore, Samantha began to lift her steps higher and higher. She was not watching her terrain and was frightened by having her arms bound behind her. If she stumbled or fell, she would have no way to cushion her collapse. Samantha focused her attention to her gait and her balance. The sheer level of trust she was being made to hand over was scary and yet extremely exhilarating.
'Come on, pony. Get those knees up,' he ordered.
The solid portion of the weapon briefly retreated to apply slaps against her rear and then returned to hovering before her at the required height. Samantha concentrated even harder and lifted her steps until her thighs touched the whip.
'Good, pony. That's it. Keep that head up,' he warned.
Samantha strained her head back against the limits of her collar. With her gaze locked firmly to the cloudless sapphire vault, she continued to march around in a circle and gnaw upon her bit. The whip came away and without its guidance her steps started to lower a little. The weapon returned as a sharp swipe across her rear and then cracked venomously about her toes.
'Up, pony,' ordered Talon and the disciplinary strut was restored to provide a more physical guideline.
Several times, she had to relearn the lesson through repetition. The moment the whip departed she could not help but start to waver and have her stride become more subdued. The periods before correction started to lengthen and huffing into the hot interior of her muzzle she finally managed a long period of uninterrupted marching.
'Whoa, pony, that's enough for now,' he said and tapped her stomach with the whip.
Samantha slowed to a halt and stood panting against her bit. Keeping her head up she felt a lovely haze of contentment. As a maid or slave, it was so much harder to please the whimsical fancies of a Master or Mistress, but as an owned pet, it was a much simpler feat. A maid would be expected to anticipate, and then be punished for perhaps assuming too much. As a pony all she had to do was walk with her head and knees up and she was congratulated. It was pre-eminently refreshing and rewarding.
'Good girl,' soothed Talon as he curled up the reins and returned to her side. 'You deserve a treat.'
His hand stretched forward to caress her breasts and run up and down the demanding uniform. Samantha swayed with pleasure as she continued to keep her muzzle aimed skyward.
Talon grabbed the end of her snout and brought it down a little. He dropped a grape in through one of the nostril holes and acting without thought, Samantha threw her head back and stretched her jaws as wide as she could. With a little difficulty she manoeuvred the sweet fruit, squashed it with her tongue, and devoured it. The wet morsel was a treasure beyond equal, a treat that was more succulent than anything else that might have graced her palate. Only the heady intoxicating tang of her owner's kisses or loins were sweeter.
Talon's hand brushed back along her hair and she leaned down into the petting. The role was consuming her with gusto, taking command of her thoughts and actions as she surrendered intellect and gave in to a simpler pattern of instinct and response.
'Come on, pony. You did well, so let's see what else you can do,' said Talon and led her back towards the stable.
By the entrance, Samantha spied a wiry gig. The single wide seat of leather was flanked by two large wheels and the vehicle reached forward with two slender arms of black steel. Talon drew her between the shafts and lifted them up so that they were level with her waist. Two small clips were used to catch the hoops at her side and thus she was affixed to the contraption with surprising ease.
The lunge reins were exchanged for a set of slim leather traces. Talon wandered back and settled into the seat. A dressage whip then lashed forward and gave a gentle crack against her rear.
'Come on, pony, giddy up,' he said with an air of tranquillity.
Samantha paused and gained another searing clip of encouragement. With a resigned huff she leaned forward and started to walk. She expected a struggle to acquire momentum but the light vehicle suddenly followed her with almost no effort. A pull to one rein drew her head aside and steered her around and towards the open fields of grass.
The whip assailed her buttocks and Talon flicked the reins.
'Legs up, pony. Remember your lessons,' he warned.
The grip of the gig to her waist was both steadying and hampering. It gave her a weak reassurance of not falling sideways but even though it was light, the slight weight made it harder to get her knees to the required height. Samantha devoted herself to the task. Despite her best efforts, it took another few doses of effulgent discipline to get her back to the levels she had previously acquired.
Once she had kept the required movement for some time, Talon added another soft swipe of the whip and gave another pull to her reins.
'Keep that head up, pony.'
Samantha immediately complied. She was finally confident enough with her steps that she could handle the added stress of not looking down and seeing where she was putting her hooves. With her well being forcibly handed over to Talon, she continued to draw him around the broad paddock.
She was a leather-clad ponygirl drawing her master around on his sunny excursion in the country. Walking along with a proud and lofty gait, and her false nose high in the air, Samantha lost herself to her private devolved thrills.
'Trot, pony,' he ordered and another swing clipped the peaks of her rear. The increased distress of the stroke snatched her new mentality and Samantha instantly accelerated. Driven by response and rein she started to jog forward. The gig trundled behind her as she drew Talon further and further from the stables at a swift rate. Samantha's breath raced and the muscles of her legs began to grow hot as she fought the rigours of her uniform. Such exercise was alien to her and even though it was taxing, she was in heaven. It was enthralling to run at the end of a set of reins, with chastisement poised behind her to correct every little flaw.
The reins steered her one way and then another. She felt rivulets of sweat gather and run down her skin. Sweaty pearls stung her eyes as they ran down beneath the smothering animal countenance that was buckled so intractably to her true face.
Flicks and brief tastes of the lash brought her to a run and then to a pell-mell gallop. Her lungs were arctic cold, her skin felt clammy and her chest heaved with deep snatches of breath. Her heartbeats echoed around her head with throbbing rapid pulses. The wetness of her perspiration was now an all-enveloping layer that fell free with her charging steps. All she wanted to do was stop, but when she started to give in to fatigue the whip returned to apply severe consequences. The shocks of cursing pain pushed back the lethargy and had her redouble her efforts. The scorching touch of the whip eclipsed the distress of her exhaustion and made her choose the weariness rather than another lesson in obedience. Talon continued to ensure she stayed at her mad dash, using the whip with an increasingly heavy hand to ensure its effects defeated the increasing strain of her fatigue.
The reins pulled back and made her release a whimper of strain.
'Woah there, pony,' he ordered.
Talon flicked the traces and Samantha slowed her run to a trot, then to a walk, and then to a brief halt.
'No, not yet, pony. Come on,' he said and added a gentle swing of the dressage whip across her rear to restore her to a phlegmatic walk.
Gasping for breath, she was turned around and back towards the stable. Samantha was parched. Every swallow made it feel like her throat was made of sandpaper. Her body trembled from the rigours of the run, her sight wavered a little, and her mind was giddy. Her legs were weak and quivered beneath her, the muscles taking a long time to gather a semblance of stability. Even so, Talon was not yet of a disposition to grant her respite from the demands of her performance. The whip and reins were used as the instruments to get her knees up and to have her once more staring blankly at the sky. With her thoughts in disarray she could not revile the extreme treatment, only obey the simple sensations that ruled her actions. The whip added harsh exclamation points to Talon's commands, and the reins steered her more effectively than her own thoughts, indeed, her own opinions and desires had been neatly removed from her field of influence and replaced by a simple series of tugs and swats.
The vehicle was taken to one of the long outer walls and Talon brought her to a halt. Samantha sagged a little, almost succumbing to the temptation to drop to her knees.
Talon left the seat and approached her side. Setting the whip aside he removed the clips at her flanks and drew her out of the grasping arms of the gig.
Samantha was granted slack and she accepted the invitation. Settling down onto her knees she leaned over and stared at the grass. A steady rain of drips fell from her animal features onto the soft carpet of green. All she wanted to do was drop onto her side and go to sleep, to lounge in the warm afternoon sun and let her perspiration evaporate and her body and mind recover.
All weariness fled like scattered clouds against a gale when a blast of cold water washed across her back. Samantha arched up and threw her head back with a cry of delight and shock.
Master Talon gave a pleased chuckle at her vibrant response. Leaning against the stable wall he held the nozzle of the hose and continued to spray her with a chill and refreshing cascade. The cooling wash poured over her raised front, stripping away the fires of her racing introduction to being a cart pony. Samantha shook and draped herself backwards even further. The waters flowed over her and started to sneak through her muzzle and straps to reach her face. Jerking forward, she leapt back up onto her feet and shook with delight as Talon continued to hose her down. She turned around under the stream and dipped her head down into it to soak her sweat-wetted hair. Jolting upright, she flung the sodden locks back and jiggled from hoof to hoof with excited merriment. She wiggled her hindquarters at Talon and he drenched them. The plexus of angry weals had their heat stolen away in an instant and Samantha tottered forward to reach the end of her reins as she continued to shake and cavort under the chill drenching.
'Good pony, that's it,' he commented and then began to tow her in.
With her wits revived, Samantha gave false struggles against his influence. Talon moved the hose in steady sweeps from left to right and panned it up and down her body. Samantha continued to resist and with a little more strength, Talon successfully reeled her in.
Releasing the trigger, Talon stopped the flow and reached into his pouch. With a grin he produced a few more grapes and lifted his hand high.
Samantha shuffled forward and strained upward to reach the tempting treats. One at a time he fed them through the holes at the end of her muzzle. Samantha threw them back and hungrily ate them. The waters and the grapes eased her stress and were greatly refreshing. The drought in her throat was banished and she was fed some more fruit.
'Good, pony. You ran well today. In fact, you ran very well, considering that it was your first time. I'm most impressed,' he said and his hand joined in to reward her with strokes and gently caresses. Samantha leaned up against him and luxuriated in the dutiful groping attention of her Master.
'Come on, pony, let's get you stabled for the night. I think you've been run enough for today,' he stated.
Samantha was taken back around to the interior, her wet tail brushing her damp legs with every step. They passed Daemon and her master again on the way and the two dominant males paused to exchange a few words.
'How did you rate her?' asked Daemon's owner.
'Pretty good. You saw?' said Master Talon.
'Little choice. Daemon here wouldn't keep her eyes off her. She kept tripping over her own feet on the obstacle course because she wouldn't pay attention to where they were supposed to be.'
Samantha looked up and saw the myriad flushed stripes covering Daemon's rear and thighs. She looked up higher and met the ravenous lustful stare of the ponygirl. Abashed by such an intense regard, Samantha darted her stare back down to the grass.
'Maybe I'll see how she handles that course tomorrow,' pondered Talon.
'We've a few hours of sunlight left,' offered Daemon's owner.
'No, I don't want to wear her out too much.'
'So a little romp with Daemon's out?'
'Hmmmm,' said Talon, rubbing his chin.
'Easy girl,' sternly stated Daemon's master and slammed his short crop across her rear before tugging on her nipple chains. Daemon was quivering with desire and only through another few slaps of the crop was she brought back to a more docile front. Talon suppressed his smile after having teased her for a long period.
'Okay, just for a little while. But I'm keeping her as is. Tomorrow I'll remove some of it so they can have some real frolics,' he said while unfastening Samantha's reins.
Daemon was freed of her nipple leashes and she gave Samantha a coy look before bolting off towards the trees. Samantha looked around to Talon to seek approval. She had spent so much of this day obeying his every command that it felt strange to have a little free will restored to her.
'Of you go then, pony. You earned a little recreational galloping.'
Samantha questioned whether her weary legs were up for more exercise but one look at Daemon's luscious rear dancing away gave her new vigour. With a sudden sprint, she chased after the ponygirl.
They ran around each other for a short time, assessing the body of the other. Samantha envied the girl her freedom, and although she was not sure, she could swear that Daemon was looking at Samantha's bonds with an equal level of jealousy.
Nervous as to how to proceed, Samantha stood still as Daemon closed in and again sniffed at her sides. The girl then nuzzled in closer and applied gentle kisses to the bared regions of her skin. A tongue ran up her side across leather and flesh.
Daemon moved back and smiled broadly before skipping away. Intrigued, Samantha followed. It was so strange to be gaining such fulfilment without any actual physical contact. She felt carefree and wild despite her bondage. Running around with a blasť indifference to the world, the two women frolicked and played. On occasion, Daemon moved in to kiss and lap at Samantha, an action that she delighted in every time Daemon chose to do it. Sometimes she allowed Daemon to come in close and Samantha scraped her hooves into the grass and shook her head. Just as Daemon was about to reach her, she scampered away with speed, coercing Daemon into chasing her before allowing her the kisses she sought. Even though Daemon bore no bit, she did not speak one single word, only whinnied, snorted, and brayed.