Jasmine tossed the cell phone into the passenger seat and glanced at the car’s rear view mirror, watching the city recede in the distance behind her. It was yet another call from her pesky real estate agent, Brit. Ever since she had closed on the new property, he’d put on a big show of small town charm. At first quaint, his persistence had long ago turned her indulgence into annoyance. The reason she had bought the property in the first place was to have a little privacy. If Brit kept up the charm offensive, she was going to have to bluntly explain to him that his attentions were unwanted.

Pulling to a halt at a stop sign, she took a few moments to hunt a rubber band from somewhere in the console and slipped it over her right wrist. Pulling both hands up, she wove her fingers through her hair and pulled her dark, shoulder length locks into a pony tail on the top of her head. Working her hair into a thick loose bunch, she slipped the rubber band from her wrist over the pony tail, then wrapped it a few more times before grabbing the loose ends of her hair and pulling them apart, cinching the pony tail tight.

As she did so, the sleeves of her black raincoat pulled up to her elbows, and the top of her raincoat opened to reveal a vast expanse of ripe bosom. She grinned deliciously at her attire, yet one more enjoyable detail of a most eventful day.

After pulling her raincoat back into place, and then checking her appearance once more in the mirror, she put the car back into gear and pulled out into the intersection. The open highway stretched out in front of her, and her mind went back over the events of the past month.

Jasmine had held an excellent paying job as a purchasing agent and book keeper for a small manufacturing firm. Over the course of her years of employment, she’d remained very frugal with her income, invested wisely, and now enjoyed a rather large nest egg.

The down side was, she worked so hard that she had no social life. It wasn’t that she was unattractive, quite the opposite in fact. Jasmine stood 5’-1” in bare feet, topped by dark brunette locks of hair that reached to her shoulders. She sported a firm 36C cup and a bottom that was perfectly proportioned and balanced for her figure. She had run track in college, and still retained a healthy physique. Her legs were still toned and lightly muscled, in a very feminine way, due to her continued jogging regimen. To anyone who noticed, deep brown eyes stared back from an exquisite face, framed by dark, slightly wavy, hair. Her dark eyes and dark hair were further complimented by her tanned complexion.

Not that Jasmine felt anyone noticed her. In this however, she was quite mistaken. She had many admirers in her office, men who paused discreetly and quietly noticed her as she passed, taking in the view both coming and going. In the office, Jasmine had a preference for business suits, the kind that had the short jacket top which cinched up at the waist, and a lace or silk top that was visible at the cleavage. The bottom was invariably a skirt that narrowed to the knees. Combined with the slightly higher than average heels that she always wore, the result was a jiggling, intoxicating vision of hourglass shaped feminine physique that was appreciated by every straight man in the office.

And Jasmine didn’t have a clue.

Instead, she spent her days and nights fantasizing. Sometimes she fantasized of a knight in shining armor, who rescued her as a damsel in distress and then worshipped the ground she walked on. Other times, she fantasized how her rescuer had delivered her from a fate worse than death, only to turn and ravage her himself and use her as he would.

Lately, she had fantasized of not being the damsel in distress, but instead she was an object to be used. Specifically, she fantasized about being a slave. A sexual plaything, meant to be taken regardless of her will, for any task that suited her master’s whim. She fantasized of a hundred different scenarios, but the one fantasy that kept intruding into her thoughts were of pony girls.

She had stumbled across the concept while surfing the internet for bondage stories. There were precious few websites that catered so specifically to that one topic, but the ones she did indulge in fascinated her. The photos, drawings, as well as computer generated art and animation kept her entranced for hours. But the thing that really drew her in were the stories.

The idea of women, kept as livestock and used as sexual toys against their wishes was a thought that increasingly occupied most of her night time fantasies, and increasingly her daydreams as well. She was finding herself becoming more and more distracted, even to the point of arousal at the office. Embarrassed, and worried that her coworkers would realize that something so perverse was on her mind, she had tried to put the distractions aside, only to find herself even more focused on the subject. It was as if the harder she tried to stop, the worse the distractions became.

Unobtrusively, she began to order items online to satisfy her desires. She thought that maybe, if she were to indulge just a little bit more, her appetites would be sated and she would be able to concentrate a little better during the day. All this did of course, was whet her appetites more while increasing her introversion.

At first it was simple toys. When these could not longer satisfy her, she began to order more elaborate items, then began to experiment with self-bondage, until eventually she was the discreet owner of all of the accoutrements of a fully equipped dungeon. Her continued problem however was a lack of a master to use her.

No matter what she experimented with, she maintained control ultimately, and knew that if she were able to lose control, even if only for a little while, she would be rewarded with a mind boggling experience. Matters had finally gotten out of hand and she knew it. This was no way to continue, and something had to give.

She determined that she had to get out of her day job and into something less stressful and more enjoyable. Something that left her with the free time to really enjoy her hidden interests. Her first experiments would be in treating herself as a slave. Since she had no master, she would have to do everything herself. The thought had been daunting at first, but her imagination had taken hold, and eventually quite creative ideas were coursing through her daydreams. The only problem left was how to implement her dreams.

It dawned on her that, were she willing to subscribe to a less ostentatious life style, she could live off of the interest on her investments. That realization had led to more soul searching, as to whether she really wanted to or not. She was, after all, still fairly young to be considering such an early “retirement”. Finally, her loneliness in the city became unbearable, and combined with a particularly stressful day at the office one Monday, she made a decision. If she were to be alone, at least it would be on her terms.

Pouring through real estate ads online and in every paper she could get her hands on, she spent months looking for just the right place. It had to be out in the country of course, as far away from the city as was practical, yet she did not want to completely sever her ties to the bustle of city life. There were just too many things still enticing about a large city that a small town would not provide.

Finally, she found a listing for a small estate, a half day’s drive out of the city. The property possessed about everything she could want. Situated on a little over one hundred acres of land, it was located next to a forest preserve on three sides with a two lane rural paved road on the fourth side. A rather large house occupied the front of the property, with a large open yard surrounding it. Built in the “Craftsman” style popular over a century before, it was nominally listed as a single story house, but also contained a full basement and a walk up floored attic, both with heavy leaded glass windows that incorporated wonderful views of the surrounding landscape.

Behind the main house stood a stable. It had been years since a horse had been kept there, and all of the stables had become filled with various items tossed out for storage, except for one near the barn doors. A loft ran the full length of the roof, and wide double doors opened at both ends. More of the aforementioned storage filled one end however, so practically speaking only one end of the stable was actually open to entry or exit. The loft had originally held hay, and large rectangular openings were situated over each stall such that hay could be dropped directly down into each feed trough.

Also present was a fairly large artificial pond stocked with fish. A narrow footpath completely encircled the pond, meandering through the hardwood trees on the edge of the water, then disappearing through the trees to wind it’s way through the denser forests of the property.

In short, the property was perfect!

Jasmine interrupted her reverie to set the cruise control after hitting the interstate, and meditated further on her actions of the past two weeks. She’d made an offer on the real estate, only to be informed by Brit that another buyer was looking at the same property. Nervously, she had upped her initial offer. So confident was she of her desires and her will to succeed that, in the interim, she had allowed her lease to expire. She would have to be out by the end of the month, so it was time to aggressively pursue her dream. Fortunately, her final offer was accepted and the property was hers. She had happily driven down that very week and finalized the paperwork in a small nearby town where the lawyer’s and real estate agent’s offices were located.

Since she was in town anyway, immediately upon signing the papers she had taken her keys and returned to her new home to air out the house. It has been thrilling to walk through her new home, opening windows as she went, and enjoying quiet time on the porch. Her footsteps made an odd echo on the hardwood floor. She then decided to take the time to really explore her property in detail and form her plans.

The first course of action, and which she initiated even before she returned to the city that evening, was to contact a contractor. The foot path around the lake was to be widened so that no point was less than four feet wide, nor wider than five feet, after which a layer of pea sized gravel was to be poured and packed down tight. Another layer of gravel was to be poured, this one left loose. A short fence on either side was to be built as a final measure.

The contractor had tried to explain to Jasmine that this would make the path difficult to walk on, as one’s feet would sink slightly into the gravel if it wasn’t packed down, but Jasmine was adamant and the contractor finally decided it wasn’t worth the effort.

In truth, Jasmine knew her instructions would make using the path more difficult, but this was her intent.

Returning to the city, the next day she gave her employer her two weeks notice. In between wrapping up her final duties at the office and boxing her possessions up, she stayed very busy over the next two weeks. However, the following weekend, she took a break and returned to her new home and inspected the trail with the contractor. It was exactly as she had instructed and she happily paid the man.

After he left, Jasmine returned to her vehicle and removed the cooler and toolbox she had picked up at the local hardware store on the drive into the country. These had been last minute decisions, and she was still dressed in casual business attire. Deciding she had time, and excited at the prospects of what her plans would culminate in, she had decided to go forward with this one part of her overall scheme in order to save time later the following week. Not wanting to ruin her clothing, and frankly excited at the exhibitionist streak she was discovering within herself, she carefully stripped down to her thong and bra.

The thought of walking about so exposed, combined with the added thought that someone could drive up and surprise her was intoxicating! It was as if her senses were heightened as she felt her bare toes, unaccustomed to the earth, wiggle in the grass. Within minutes, she knew the crotch of her thong was soaked, but forced herself to finish what she started first before indulging in any more distractions.

Entering the stable, she carefully climbed up into the loft, awkwardly lifting the cooler over her head as she went. The ladder rungs, nothing more than pieces of wood nailed to the wall, were uncomfortable to her feet, but she persevered and continued on with her plan. Slipping the cooler over to the opening above the stall, she returned to the ground to get the tool box.

Her first action was to more carefully position the cooler at the hole in the loft floor above the first stall, until the cooler was at the very edge of the opening. Next, she secured one edge of the cooler to the loft floor using hinges from the hardware store. When she finished, she checked the position by tipping the cooler over. It tilted perfectly over the opening, and if anything had been inside it would have tumbled into the stall below.

Content with the cooler installation, she then drilled a hole through the loft floor. Next, she attached several pulleys she had found elsewhere in the barn, to various overhead beams in the loft. Returning to the toolbox, she pulled a length of cord out and attached one end to the eyelet in the cover of the cooler. Slipping the cord across the pulleys, she stubbed it down through the hole, letting the free end dangle into the stable below. After checking several times to make sure the cord moved freely, she collected her tools and climbed back down into the stable.

Walking into the stall, she climbed a short step ladder and attached another pulley just below the ceiling to the wall opposite the door to the stall. Looping the dangling end of the rope around this pulley, she pulled the rope across the barn high above the walkway to the stall door and attached the free end at the top of the door. Pulling the door open completely, she pulled the slack out of the cord.

Stepping into the stall, Jasmine checked through the hole into the loft above and verified that the cooler was in place and closed. Stepping back to the stall door, she pulled it closed. This time she could see the cooler lid swing open as the cooler pivoted over the open hole in the loft above. Opening the stall door once more, the cord went slack and the cooler, now under the influence of gravity, pivoted even further into the opening.

Climbing back up into the loft, she turned the cooler upright once more, and was satisfied to see the cord become taut again.

Content with her efforts, she climbed back down to the ground level and slipped the toolbox onto a high shelf. Brushing her hands off by clapping them together, she walked out of the barn. Locking the barn doors, she returned to the house, dressed, and closed it up as well before beginning her journey back to the city.

The remaining days of her last week were a blur as Jasmine boxed the last of her possessions. A shipping company was to transport them for her, and she decided to have them picked up and delivered on the following Monday - exactly two weeks after she had purchased the property. Since she had worked out her notice by now and was simply using the last of her accumulated vacation time, she was free to do as she pleased for the final days before her lease ran out on her apartment.

The movers showed up on time early Monday morning, to load her possessions for the ride into the country. After making sure everything was in order, Jasmine followed them in her own car to her new home. Once there, she opened the outside door to the basement and instructed that everything was to be placed in the basement.

The movers were a bit perplexed, having expected to move the various boxes and furniture to different rooms to make it easier to unpack, but were appreciative for the short distance from the back of the moving truck to the spacious basement level. They were also quite appreciative of the view Jasmine cut in her cut off blue jean shorts and white camisole top. Delightedly, Jasmine took every opportunity to flash the movers either her breasts or her ass. She wasn’t wearing anything under her clothing, and she felt incredibly naughty as she took every opportunity to lean this way or that, always within easy view of the movers. The thought occurred to her, that in her present situation, they could take advantage of her and there was little she could do about it, seeing as she was so isolated, but another part of her mind suggested firmly that it was just another one of her fantasies. The movers, while more than eager to inspect her from a distance, were not the type of men to gang rape a woman. This left her relieved, but also provided grist for her newest fantasies. At any rate, it took only a couple of hours to unload, and then the movers were gone and Jasmine was standing in the drive watching the truck disappear into the distance.

Jasmine did have two very large boxes delivered in front of the barn, and carried a small one herself up to the master bathroom. The small box held various toiletries, soap, towels, shampoo, toothpaste, and other small items. There were also a few bags of groceries she deposited in the refrigerator. A very odd looking box was also placed inside the refrigerator freezer compartment. She didn’t want the movers to mistakenly open it. She then took the time to empty her car of every loose item that had accumulated over the previous month. When she was done, the only thing left in her car was her registration and owner’s manual, and a few odds and ends such as pens, scrunchies, or rubber bands.

The larger boxes in the barn were a different matter altogether. Opening the first, she struggled with a life-sized, very large, artificial man. She had seen a show late one night on cable television, one of the shows detailing the stranger sexual escapades that people indulged in, and it was about a company that made artificial men. Anatomically correct, they were intended for the sexual gratification of women. While she may use it later for it’s intended purpose, for now she had a much different intent.

Dragging the inert form over to the center of the aisle, she fitted a leather bondage body harness around the torso. Clicking a snap hook into the back ring, she looped a rope through yet another pulley and pulled the figure off of the ground. It took all of her might, but eventually she had the figure hanging a full three feet off of the stable floor and had tied off the free end of the rope to a nearby post.

Pausing, Jasmine noticed now for the first time exactly how massive the swaying figure’s anatomy was, since it was literally at face height, and decided when she had time later she would definitely experiment with the figure in a more conventional manner. For now though, she had other purposes in mind.

Still, she paused a moment to run her fingernails down the latex belly, across the lower abdomen, and then down the length of the artificial penis. Grasping the appendage, she rubbed her thumb about on the head of the flesh textured appendage, then tugged firmly a few times. She then lightly ran her fingers loosely up and down the length before cupping it’s latex testicles.

Simultaneously reaching down the front of her cut off shorts, she slipped her fingers into the moist folds of her labia. Reaching further downward, she felt her fingers slipping in, right were her cunt stopped and her taint started. Pulling back slightly, she cupped her pubic mound before once more slipping her fingers inside herself and hooking her index finger inward and upward to find her g-spot. Belatedly realizing that she was becoming too distracted to finish her tasks for the day, she forced herself to stop and remove her hands, both from the fake penis as well as her own cunt. She also realized she had been unconsciously licking her lips the entire time.

“Oh, if only you were real” she breathes, “I think I’ll name you Max, cause you certainly are massively endowed. OK, new rule. Absolutely no pleasure until everything is ready and I move in! Master‘s rules, and the slave obeys!”

Opening the other box, she began withdrawing flat wood panels and large spoked wheels. Retrieving her toolbox from the shelf, she proceeded to follow the printed directions and assemble her new pony cart. It took a few hours to accomplish everything, but finally she stood back and admired her new equipment. There was a black leather bag in the very bottom of the box, which she set to the side for later.

The pony cart had two forks, between which a pony girl would stride. The ends of the forks rested on stout posts, which were topped by vertical pins. The posts themselves were the stands the cart would normally sit on when not in use. Sitting perched on the seat was Max, a stupid expression on his artificial face and his unrealistically massive appendage was sticking up between his legs proudly. A bright red buggy whip had come with the cart, and this she had duct taped to his right hand so it hung forward, approximately to where a pony girls buttocks would be when hitched to the cart. Satisfied with her work, Jasmine once more locked up the barn and the house, and returned to the city.

Arriving at her apartment, Jasmine stretched and twisted her back. Between all of the driving and the manual labor, she was exhausted and stiff, but she had one more night in her old apartment, and then her new life began. She was in such a hurry that she had skipped dinner on the way back into the city, and was looking forward only to a hot shower and some well deserved rest.

Her apartment was completely bare now, save for the fridge and stove, a small folding cot with some leather accessories laying on it, a video camera on a tripod, a metal pan, her black waterproofed fabric raincoat, a pair of five inch high heels, and a small hand purse. The hand purse held her keys, identification, and debit and credit cards. Her toothbrush and toothpaste were still in the bathroom.

She now could implement the final stages of enforcing a slave’s life upon herself. She had given it a lot of thought, and had decided that first of all a slave should be clean, clean shaven, and nude.

Slipping out of her sweaty clothing and dropping them onto the floor, she stepped into the bathroom and took a long luxurious shower. Lathering up her body, she slipped her fingers down across her breasts, cupping and squeezing them, pinching the nipples and rubbing them together. As the suds slid down her body, so too did her right hand until her fingers were hooked into her cunt. She took her time, finally achieving a massive orgasm as the water steamed up the glass door of the shower stall. With that release, she happily resumed her shower. After completely shaving her legs, armpits, and her genital areas, she finished her shower and rinsed off.

Since her towels were packed up in the basement of her new home, she worked her fingers through her hair until it had dried somewhat, then sat on her cot and allowed her naked body to air dry. It felt so odd to walk through her apartment so undressed, with water dripping from her body, and Jasmine found the sensation exhilarating. The fact that she was also completely bare in the pubic area only intensified the experience. She rarely shaved so completely, and to be so exposed now was making her very horny all over again.

Sitting on the cot, she glanced over at the box, and realized she’d forgotten an important detail. A large black permanent magic marker and a pencil were poking up through her clothing in the bottom of the box. Leaning over from her position on the cot, her breasts swinging below her body, she plucked them from the box. Laying on her left side, she began to carefully trace a design on her right hip with the pencil.

It was a design she had seen in one of the online stories she had become so fascinated by, called “The Shoot”. The drawing that accompanied the story had an image of two pony girls in harness, and the symbol was displayed prominently on their left thighs. It was a rather odd looking design, sort of an inverted tau symbol, piercing a circle with it’s pointed vertical shaft.

Carefully tracing out the design, she didn’t want to mess it up and so took her time. Finally deciding she had penciled it in neatly onto her flesh, she went to the bathroom and inspected it in the mirror. Deciding it was accurately drawn and placed perfectly, she returned to the cot in the living room and popped the cap off of the black magic marker.

Being extra careful now, she traced over the pencil marks with the magic marker. Finally getting the outline right, she began to color in the symbol. When she was done, a glistening black mark was now semi-permanently visible on her hip. It would take several weeks of scrubbing to remove now.

Capping off the magic marker, she tossed both it and the pencil into the box and lay back onto the cot, careful to not smear her new false tattoo. Admiring her handiwork, she considered herself now “marked” as a proper slave, and found the thought of being a sexual plaything so marked against her will quite arousing.

Slipping her hands down, the additional thought occurred to her that a master would not allow her to indulge herself so. In fact, a master would punish her for enjoying herself without permission in the shower and the barn! But how could she punish herself? She already had plans for how to sleep that night, but how could she do more, to endure punishment as a slave for having satisfied her desires when she had promised expressly to not indulge until the proper time? How was she to be a proper slave if she could not even exercise that small amount of self control?

She had kept the lights off, as there were not even blinds or curtains on the windows anymore, and just listened to the sound of the city as she pondered her need for punishment, knowing her future would consist more of the sound of crickets and owls. Gathering the last of her clothing of the day up, she tossed it all into the box, considering her predicament in more depth. How could she punish herself for her indiscretions? As she arranged the items in the box, her purse opened slightly and a roll of a certain type of breath mint fell out. She had an idea then.

Since she had determined to experience life as a slave, she had given thought to how a master would make her sleep, and the thoughts had progressed until they had become yet another integral part of her plan. The cot had four sets of cuffs and four lengths of chain attached to each metal leg. A fifth length of chain lay at the head of the cot.

Each cuff required a padlock, which was helpfully laying next to each cuff. A thick leather collar lay on the cot next to the fifth chain, with a matching padlock all it‘s own. Once the padlock was slipped through the loop in the leather restraints, and simultaneously through the lengths of chain, the restraints could not be removed except when the padlock was released. Last but not least, a gag lay next to the collar. Her stilleto heels had padlocks as well, the key to which awaited her at her new home.

She had determined that a master would require his slave to be nude at all times except in public, and then would only wear the minimum necessary clothing except for the incredibly high stiletto heels which she should wear at all times regardless of her circumstances. At night, a slave would be secured, awaiting her master’s use if so desired, but unable to release, or please, herself. In her desire to emulate this lifestyle, she had figured out a way to accomplish this on her own, in a way that would not require assistance from anyone.

Going to the refrigerator, she opened the top freezer and took out a small perforated metal box. Inside the box was a block of ice. Embedded in the ice was the universal key to all five padlock keys to the cuff and the collar. The perforations in the box were just the right size for the key to be withdrawn through, yet one could not remove the key until the ice melted first. Taking this box to the cot, she set the metal pan next to the cot, on the right hand side, and placed the box in the pan.

Snapping her fingers, Jasmine realized she hadn’t started the video camera as yet and quickly started it, checking the view in the viewfinder to make sure everything was in focus.

Next, Jasmine bent over at the waist, slipped the shoes onto her feet, and locked the small padlocks in place. She was especially careful to make sure her derriere was clearly in focus for the whirling video camera as she did so. Though tiny, the locks would keep the shoes on her feet unless they were unlocked or she procured bolt cutters somehow. Standing up straight once more, she found herself slightly off balance as she acclimated to the shoes, and had to extend her hands out slightly to keep from falling over.

Taking a deep breath, Jasmine did one final check, glanced once more at the video camera, then sat down on the cot. Slipping the collar around her neck, she smiled to the camera before she buckled it in place, then slipped the padlock on. The clinking sound it made when she slipped it through the steel ring was incredibly loud in the empty apartment. The metal padlock was cold to her skin as it settled to her collar bone, and the stiff leather collar scuffed at the bottom of her chin.

Without hesitating, Jasmine then took the gag and opened her mouth wide. Again looking into the video camera, she slipped the hard rubber ball between her teeth and buckled it quickly before she lost her nerve. It had a protrusion that extended into the back of her throat, and it was already start to irritate her gag reflex, causing her to swallow constantly.

Slipping the cuffs around each ankle and wrist, she strapped those in place tightly before locking the ankle cuffs to each length of chain at the foot of the cot. Laying back, Jasmine reached up and felt for the fifth chain, and locked it into place on her collar. Now effectively secured in a prone position on the cot, she reached up for the left cuff chain. Using her right hand, she locked it in place next. She noticed her jaw was already starting to ache from the gag, and her throat worked reflexively, swallowing as the short chain attached to her neck forced her to stretch her neck as far as possible to take the strain off.

The next two steps were irreversible were she to go through with them. She felt her nerve wavering, and steeling herself she forced her right hand to move. A single mint was laying on the cot next to her right hip, awaiting her decision. She had placed it there with intent that this be the last choice before she locked herself in for the evening. With her hand shaking nervously, she picked the mint up and looked at it. So small and innocent looking, but she felt it was a justified punishment for a disobedient slave girl.

She slipped the mint into her mouth a moment as she scrunched down on the cot, legs raised and spread wide, pubic area open to the view of the video camera. Closing her eyes tightly, she popped the mint out of her mouth and reached down. She slipped the mint between the newly denuded folds of her labia, sliding it in deeply so as to keep it from slipping out. She wanted to manage it as a quickly as possible before the effects kicked in and she changed her mind.

Finally satisfied with her efforts, she hurriedly stretched out on the cot and reached back above her head to find the right hand cuff. Slipping the last padlock through the steel ring at her wrist, she awkwardly worked the lock with one hand until it clicked.

Done! She was now locked in for the evening, and nothing she could do would change that until the ice melted in the pan and she could retrieve the key to her cuffs. It was at this point that the outer surface of the mint must have begun to melt, as she felt an intense tingling sensation beginning. This was soon accompanied by a burning sensation. Two minutes later, Jasmine was squirming uncontrollably as both sensations began to intensify. Five minutes later Jasmine was thrashing about madly, all thoughts of punishment of slave girls fleeing from her mind as her throbbing pussy endured the ravages of the mint dissolving in such a sensitive location.

She bit down on the ball gag, trying to control her response, but soon enough she couldn’t stand it anymore as muffled screams emitted from around her gag. Fortunately, it was late and she was gagged after all, otherwise she’d have awakened half the building.

Her bonds were adjusted such that, if she were to stretch her legs, her bound hands would not quite touch the top of her head, her knees could not close together, nor could her hands touch each other. As she thrashed about, some small part of her mind considered the image she was making on the video. She would replay it over and over later, enjoying her role as a punished slave, but for now her torment was agonizing!

After two hours, the intensity seemed to slacken, and Jasmine began to relax in her bonds somewhat. The adrenaline rush and restricted physical exertions had left her shaking and sweaty. Her cunt throbbed, and her shoulders ached from pulling at her bonds so. Veins popped up on her sweat drenched neck from her exertions.

Turning her head to one side, she took one last look through the open window at the lights of the city, closed her eyes tightly, and finally slept fitfully. Awaking several times during the night, she felt the urge to touch herself, alternately to arousal or to comfort her aching body, but with her bonds she was helpless to do anything. She had to content herself with the knowledge that waiting would only increase the pleasure when she did gain release.

Sometime during the night, the heat turned off and it grew cooler, and then cold. Jasmine awoke shivering, her hardened nipples pointing at the ceiling as her flesh puckered with goose bumps. The building superintendent must have thought she had moved out already and shut off the steam! She reached over with her right hand into the pan, but the ice block was still too substantial for her to get to the keys. She knew she couldn’t break the ice, and if she tried to shake it out, it might slip through the hole and out of reach and she would be trapped until someone found her. No, she would have to wait as per her original plan. Forcing herself to relax, she managed a few more hours of fitful sleep even under these conditions.

Awakening early the next morning due to the bright sunlight streaming in, Jasmine immediately reached into the pan and found the key laying loosely within the box. The sun streaming in through the empty windows had warmed the apartment considerably, and now it actually felt hot. After shaking the key out of the box, she found it was just as awkward to unlock the cuffs as it was to lock them, but finally her right hand was free! As Jasmine closed her eyes, she remembered the events of the night before, remembered her vulnerability, and her helplessness, and her hand snaked down between her legs. A second later, she made a fist and shook it at the ceiling. No! Not until it was time! She would deny herself, after all she was a slave, and the thought of punishing herself once more with a mint was not something she even cared to contemplate. Without hesitation, she immediately released the other locks.

Jasmine rose from her cot and stretched in the morning light. Already her feet were aching slightly from the new shoes she’d worn all night, but even in this Jasmine found a slight pleasure. What would a master worry about regarding the comfort of his slave? Glancing down at the mark on her thigh, she felt a fresh wave of adrenaline at the thoughts swirling through her mind. Who cared if anyone saw her or not? She was about to leave this town forever. Luxuriating in the feelings of freedom once more, she deliberately continued to enjoy her exhibitionist streak as she rolled up her sleeping bag and folded her cot. Stuffing both into the box along with her clothing, she was left with only her raincoat, stilletto shoes, and hand purse. Considering it a moment longer, she took her driver’s license and keys and stuffed them into her pockets before tossing the purse into the box as well. A few minutes in the bathroom, brushing her teeth and untangling her hair, applying her makeup, and she was done. Walking to the window, she brazenly stared across the street at the apartment directly opposite her own.

She had noticed someone many times over the years pointing a telescope in her direction, and now stared intently to see if they were there this morning. Spotting the window, the telescope as usual was pointing directly at her. The hunched figure behind it suddenly straightened, realizing what he was truly seeing for the first time.

Smiling maliciously, Jasmine stared back for a moment, then waved and mouthed the word “goodbye”. Then turned and left. Slipping her raincoat on and cinching it snugly about her waist, she pulled the box through the door and struggled the box into the hallway. She realized then she would have to be somewhat careful of her movements, as the raincoat had a tendency to open at the top, and was so short it barely reached her upper thighs. Every few seconds her personally applied temporary tattoo on her right hip would be visible just below the hem of the raincoat.

Locking the door behind her for the last time, she slid the box into the elevator and rode down to the basement level where she turned her key into the building supervisor, had her utilities disconnected, and got her deposit check back. Jasmine gained additional pleasure as the Supervisor’s eyes bugged out of his head at the sight of her. She cut quite a figure, dressed as she was, and even though she didn’t expose herself, the man knew she was wearing nothing underneath.

His hands were shaking as he handed her a check, and Jasmine smiled at the sweat that had suddenly appeared on his forehead. Glancing down as she took the check from his hand, she noticed her own nipples were standing out sharply against the smooth fabric, clearly aroused. Deciding to ramp things up a bit, she placed both hands on the edge of the desk and leaned forward. The result was her breasts were squeezed together, and the uncooperative raincoat hiked up in back, barely covering the bottom crevice of her ass cheeks.

“I just wanted to thank you for shutting off the heat last night. I found myself getting very…nipply.” Looking down at her bustline, she stared first at one nipple, then the other. “My, my, would you look at that. They’re still nipply!”

Laughing, she turned her back to the sputtering old man. She made sure to give her ass a particularly exaggerated sway as she walked away, resisting the urge for a moment to pull the raincoat down in the back to cover her ass cheeks. Returning to the elevator, she rode it up to the lobby, where yet another delivery man awaited.

She had called earlier in the week and set the exact time for pickup, and was going to mail the last of her belongings to her new home. After signing the papers, and watching the muscular and bemused delivery man work the box out to the brown van, Jasmine was delighted at the idea that she was now completely alone in the city, wearing nothing but her thin raincoat, and there was no going back now.

She had deliberately parked several blocks away from the apartment building, and now felt her nipples pressing intently through the thin fabric in the cool of the morning as she strode along, smiling at the men turning to watch her go. The feeling was so intoxicating! Since the raincoat had no buttons, only a belt, she had to walk carefully and watch out for the occasional errant breeze with her hands tucked into her coat pockets to keep the coat pulled down and out of mischief. This of course tended to cause the raincoat to bunch between her thighs while riding up in the rear, plus it caused her breasts to protrude at the top, so it was a constant adjustment as she walked along to keep from flashing the neighborhood.

Exactly as a slave should be dressed.

Arriving at her car, she unlocked it and hopped in. Putting it in gear, she was then on her way. Driving through the city, she made sure to hike the raincoat up until her buttocks were resting on the cold leather of the car seat. She felt so evil then, and it felt good.

Jasmine remembered all of this and more as she drove along the empty highway, but her reverie was soon to be replaced by reality. After hours of driving, she was pulling into her new driveway finally and it was time to put the thoughts of the past few weeks behind her. Parking the vehicle in the garage, she closed and locked the garage, and walked into her new home.

She briefly considered taking a few moments to freshen up, but realized a master would not consider such things and would instead demand immediate action of her. Smiling to herself, she resumed her plans, looking forward to a long hot soaking bath afterwards.

The first thing she did was remove her rain coat. No longer necessary, she went into the basement and draped it over the boxes. Next to go were her shoes, now that she had the key to the shoes. She stood nude once more, her bare feet going cold on the concrete floor. She noticed a slight ache from wearing the shoes all night, and mild indentations were visible where the straps had bit into her ankles. She also noticed how good it felt to be rid of the shoes, and considered how her feet were going to feel later after her first adventure in her new home.

Going back up into the kitchen, she took the bag out of the freezer and opened it. Inside was a solid block of ice about the size of an average brick, in which a length of cord had been frozen. On the end of the cord, and well encased inside the block of ice, were more keys. Reaching into the refrigerator, she found a bag of oats and carrots.

Leaving the house, she went to the barn, keys and bag in one hand and block of ice in the other. It felt incredible to be outside nude! Once inside the barn, she climbed into the loft and placed the ice block inside the cooler and closed it. Making sure the free end of the cord snaked out of the cooler and was tied off to the rafter, she tugged it to make sure it was secure. She had a moment of hesitancy and worry, in turn deciding to lower the ice block several times to make sure it would be approximately six feet off the ground, and then returned it to the cooler and closed the lid. When the ice melted, the cord would unwind and the keys would be comfortably no more than about three feet off the ground. Next she made sure the cord attached to the cooler lid still moved freely, and then it was back down out of the loft.

Opening the bag of oats and carrots, she emptied them into the feed trough, and fed water through an old garden hose into the watering bucket attached to the wall.

Finally, she found the black bag and returned to the house. She had left it in Max’s lap, and she imagined Max smiling at her naked ass as she walked away and thought once more of how nice it would be to have a real master. Someone who could do these things to her, rather than having to do it all on her own.

Once back inside the house, Jasmine descended back into the basement and opened the black bag. Inside was her “attire” for the day. Removing all of the items from the black bag, she left the bag in the basement and went back upstairs. Upon leaving the basement, she turned and locked the basement door. She had deliberately left her keys in the basement, of course.

Walking back through the house, her arms loaded with her attire, she absorbed the alien like atmosphere. The rooms were completely empty, and her footsteps were silent pads throughout the house as she went. With all of her “normal” clothing locked up in the basement, she was almost completely vulnerable now. Almost that is. She still knew, in the back of her mind, if she decided not to go through with her next actions that she could simply go to the barn, open the cooler, and break the ice block to gain access to the keys that would open the house and the basement.

She thought of all of the things she had gone through so far, all of the actions she had taken to get where she was standing now, and determined she would go through with it to the end. She had come too far to simply change course. She’d wanted to experience life as a slave, and this was her first opportunity!

Sitting down on the hardwood floor of the living room, she brushed her feet off and decided to start with her shoes. They reached halfway up her calves, and forced her feet and toes into a pointed stance. Easily increasing her height by at least six inches, the end of the shoe was fashioned to resemble a horse’s hoof. The black leather shoe laced up the back, and the lacings were black nylon. A very thick, heavy, steel horseshoe was nailed securely to the bottom of each sole. Each shoe weighed perhaps five pounds.

Slipping both boots on, she worked her toes down into the foot ware, making sure she had her feet down into the gear as firmly as possible. She didn’t want it to work loose, as she definitely wouldn’t be able to adjust it later. They had an odd cool feel to them, the feel of new leather, that temporarily assuaged the ache in her feet. After she had both boots on, she stood and flexed her knees once or twice, then bent over at the waist, legs straight and knees locked, and began lacing them up tightly. Once she had finished with her boots, Jasmine stood and walked around a bit. She would have stomped her feet, but didn’t want to mar the hardwood floors of her new home. The shoes pinched her toes somewhat, but she felt the leather would stretch and adjust to her personal dimensions.

Satisfied, she squatted once more, and lifted the next item from the black bag. She held it in her hands, looking at the glossy black finish on the leather. It was a bridle with chrome bit. Small padlocks at the back ensured that once placed on the subject’s head it was not going to come off without a key. The key of course was sitting on the boxes in the basement below.

Taking a breath, Jasmine slipped her head into the straps, fitting the bit into her mouth first before pulling the leather strapping back around her head. Pausing a moment, she realized she had to adjust her pony tail a bit to move it to the very crown of her skull. The bridle had a thick leather loop that fit perfectly around the base of her pony tail, keeping it in place no matter how she moved about. She noticed that the bridle was chrome, but the piece that fit through her mouth was quite flat and covered in some sort of vinyl. Slipping it into her mouth, she realized she could almost close her teeth with it in place. Making sure the straps were adjusted and comfortable, Jasmine took a deep breath and snapped the locks closed.

Almost there.

The next four items were more conventional, and consisted only of cuffs for her elbows and wrists. Each cuff had a steel ring securely attached, and the buckles were designed to be locked with small padlocks. Slipping them into place, Jasmine secured them, made sure she was comfortable, and inserted the locks for those in place as well. Four buckles later, Jasmine was breathing heavier.

Closer now.

Reaching back into the bag, she pulled out a butt plug. A thick, black, fluffy, bouncy, pony tail was attached to the end. It was designed with a flexible core to which was attached the pony tail hairs. Pliable, it could be bent to shape so that it could either hang straight down, or be fashioned into a somewhat fancier arrangement. As she moved it about, she felt and heard small vibrations. The inside of the plug was a hollow steel sphere, and inside of that hollow space was another steel ball. As it rolled about, it chimed somewhat like oriental exercise balls guitarists used to strengthen their fingers. She imagined the effect it would have when inserted, and smiled.

Jasmine handled it for several long moments, trying to determine if she really wanted to go through with this particular step. Once again, she told herself she had come too far to change course. Reaching into the bag, she removed a jar of lubricant. She read the label, took in the warnings, gritted her teeth around the bit, and opened the jar.

Spreading the lubricant liberally over the plug, she laid on her left side and raised her right leg, crooking her leg at the knee so the hoofed sole of her right boot was planted firmly on the floor. Reaching back with her right hand, she began working the plug into her nether regions. At first it felt good, and was an unusual experience. Then it became somewhat painful as the thicker conical shape of the plug began forcing her sphincter wider and wider. When she was almost ready to pull it out and forget about that particular accessory, it finally popped through to it’s narrower section. Jasmine let out a unrepressed cry at the sudden pain, followed by the intense full feeling she was experiencing. She now had a feeling of intense pleasure, and the feeling was incredibly pleasurable.

The lubricant contained a mild localized anesthetic, to reduce pain, but as this wore off, another - more intense chemical reaction - took place. This reaction resulted in a sensation that started off as mild, but progressed to more of a pleasurable experience, before becoming a burning sensation the longer it was left in contact with the skin. Right now, Jasmine was experiencing the more pleasurable aspects.

Just a little more effort. She imagined that she was being a very good slave.

A few tissues were present in the bag, and Jasmine wiped one carefully around the exposed end of the plug, making sure all of the excess lubricant was wiped away from her ass cheeks, as well as from the plug and her stretched sphincter. Then she used another tissue to clean her hands.

Sitting back up on her knees, she realized she would not be comfortable sitting on her buttocks again until the plug was removed. Rising to her knees, she swished the tail a bit, then reached back and adjusted the pliable tail a bit. Now it stood out from the crevice of her buttocks, and the extra leverage afforded the device by virtue of a more horizontal orientation caused the butt plug to shift in what Jasmine considered odd and wonderful ways. Stray strands of hair found their way between her ass cheeks, and tickled the inside of her thighs and the back of her legs. The chiming device inside the butt plug caused vibrations the likes of which she had never experienced before, and she found herself swishing her tail about even more energetically.

There were five items left in the bag now. Jasmine reached in and pulled out three - a pair of nipple clamps and a short chain that connected the two. The teeth were encased in the same nylon coating that covered the bit in her mouth. Quickly, before she changed her mind, she used her right hand to pull her left nipple out tautly from her body and slipped the cold nipple clamp around the deep dark brown of her areole, the very tip of the nipple being pinched abruptly and forming a hard knot.

Jasmine took a sharp intake of breath, her hands shaking from an adrenaline rush and the sudden intense pain. After the pain subsided to a dull throbbing, Jasmine had enough self control to attach the other nipple clamp. Expecting it, the pain was more bearable this time and Jasmine only paused a minute. Once she had gone over the threshold of pain again, Jasmine carefully took the short chain and attached it to each nipple clamp. Now her breasts were captive to the fiendish devices until they were removed.

She was practically done! A master would be so proud of her, that is if she had one!

Finally, Jasmine removed two padlocks from the bag. Rising from her knees, she walked carefully through the house, her footsteps much louder now, and paused in the bathroom to look at her image. She saw a pony girl, bridled and ready for work, tail proudly in place, and standing much taller than her usual height. Satisfied with her preparations finally, she exited through the back door.

Standing still at the step, she looked into the her new house, her hand on the door knob. The door lock was set, all she had to do was push it to and she would be trapped outside unless she retrieved the keys from the block of ice. She noticed the air had cooled considerably, but she figured that would just make her coming labors less strenuous and hot for her. Even though her skin was puckered in goose bumps, she was certain she would be sweating enough soon and it wouldn’t matter. Gritting her teeth around the bit again, she gave a slight shiver and deliberately closed the door.

Before moving another step, and before she lost her nerve and took the easy route, Jasmine reached her arms up behind her back, a padlock in each hand. Fingering the steel rings in her wrist and elbow cuffs, she painstakingly worked the padlocks into position and snapped them shut. Her wrists were now firmly locked to each opposing elbow.

Done! If only she had a master here to appreciate her creativity!

Striding to the barn, exaggerating the sway of her hips along the way in order to increase the feelings the butt plug generated, Jasmine nudged the partially open door wider with her shoulder until it stood clear of the doorway. The chiming butt plug creating even greater sensations now that she was fully striding and not walking so carefully as she did inside of the house. Walking in, the pony tail brushing the exposed back of her calves, Jasmine stood in front of the pony girl cart, Max still stupidly looking at her from the seat with his permanent erection. She could either implement her initial plan now, or she could simply go through with the second half of her plan. She paused only a moment and then turned around and backed between the forks of the cart. As she did so, she felt the light touch of the whip as she moved rearward, making contact with her buttocks.

The forks had a pincer arrangement, the jaws of which were gaping open. Working a steel ring from each elbow cuff into the jaws of each pincer, Jasmine lifted. The top of the cart had a steel pin mounted vertically, and the pincer device had a matching hole in it’s bottom. As the forks were lifted off of the pin, the pincer jaws closed on the steel rings, effectively attaching Jasmine to the cart and it’s artificial load until she lowered it back onto the pins, thereby opening the pincers again so she could remove the rings.

But this is not what Jasmine did. Instead, she began to walk forward. It was then she noticed that Max pivoted about slightly, causing the center of gravity to shift, much like Jasmine imagined a real master would. She felt the loose end of the buggy whip gently slapping against her buttocks. The tapping was so gentle it almost tickled. Grinning now, she pulled strongly and turned onto the new gravel path that circuited the lake.

Feeling her hoofs sink into the gravel, Jasmine had a moment of doubt then. She was having to strain already, and noticed her buttocks clenching around the butt plug with each step. She also noticed the throbbing ache in her nipples was getting worse, but at least the lubricant she had applied to the butt plug was doing it’s job and she was thoroughly enjoying it. But with her new difficulties, she experienced the first serious doubt of her entire adventure. Then the wheels sank in and Jasmine groaned under the strain. She was already at least thirty yards down the path, and the fence on either side prevented her from turning around. Setting her feet, Jasmine pushed backwards on the cart. If she simply backed up, she could go back to the barn, settle the cart onto it’s posts, be released from the cart, and continue with the latter half of her adventure.

Thirty minutes later Jasmine stood panting. She had not gone more than a few feet. Every time she did, she either bogged down in the gravel, or backed into the fence. What’s worse, the pleasurable sensations of the lubricant were wearing off now, and were being replaced by the more painful sensations warned off on the lubricant packaging. Staring at the barn, then at the gravel path, she whimpered, bounced a bit by flexing her knees, and finally decided she would be better off going with plan “A”, and continuing around the path as she had originally planned.

It was tough going, but after a while she felt herself getting into a rhythm. Her feet still sank into the gravel, and it was an exhausting effort. The butt plug grew more and more insistent in it’s sensations, and her nipples were throbbing, but she felt she was making decent time now. Max continued to wobble about, and his whip continued to tickle her buttocks.

Sweat poured from every pour of Jasmines exposed flesh. Her arms began to tingle, then go numb slightly, from the enforced lack of movement. The nipple clamps swung to either side with each step, and her breasts were throbbing from the torment. Occasionally, she would stumble or halt abruptly, and this caused her breasts to lunge together before swaying back and forth. Her legs felt as if they were on fire from the unaccustomed strain and were becoming wobbly. Somehow, a strand of hair had settled between her eyes, and the end was sticking to her sweaty cheek, and would on occasion get into her mouth and she was obliged to shake her head to get it out.

An hour later, Jasmine was still only halfway around the lake. Pulling around a particularly sharp bend, she felt the cart snatch to a halt. Groaning again, she turned in her place as much as the cart restraints would allow and looked behind her, first to the left, then the right. What she saw raised her level of misery. The contractor had not cleared a tree root enough. It was only buried under a light layer of gravel, and now the right wheel of the cart was thoroughly snagged! Try as she might, she could not clear it simply by pulling harder. She was going to have to maneuver the cart somehow off of the root. Once again, she thought to herself how a master would simply step out of the cart and lift it free. Max on the other hand simply grinned at her as stupidly as ever.

Dejected, Jasmine squatted again, catching her breath and trying to figure out what to do. Deciding she had better get going again, before she became too complacent, she rose shakily to her feet, the forks of the cart rising with her.

Pulling and tugging ferociously, it took Jasmine a little over two more hours to free the cart. She was running way behind schedule now, and noticed the sun was well across the midpoint of the sky. She also noticed the slight buzz of mosquito’s, and occasionally one would land on her body. Trapped as she was, she could not do anything about it except jump and jiggle about, which is to say she could do nothing.

Every wiggle of her nude body only exacerbated the torment of the nipple clamps. With a fresh burst of energy, she pulled the cart faster through the remaining half of the path, pulling finally back into the yard near the stable. It was about this time that the lubricating chemicals of the butt plug began to tingle like liquid fire!

Relieved at finally being off of the gravel path but experiencing consternation at her new predicament, Jasmine walked tiredly into the barn, only to have to back out again and turn around. There was not enough room in the stable to turn the cart, so she had to back in. The one saving grace was that, unlike the path, she had room to maneuver inside and the floor was hard packed. Finally, in spite of the distractions of the butt plug, she had the cart backed up and properly aligned behind the posts, and walked forward. When she started to lower the cart onto the pins however, she realized just how close the tolerances were, and had to work the cart back and forth for another forty-five minutes until she had it lined up perfectly.

Already exhausted and covered in a sheen of cold sweat, this only made her feel more tired. Finally, she felt the cart slip down without resistance onto the pins and the pincers opened, freeing her from the infernal contraption for the first time in hours. Settling down into a squat, then dropping to her knees, she rested her aching legs for a moment before continuing her plan. Looking at the ladder, she knew there was no way she could climb it in her present bonds. There was no turning back, and she would have to go through to the end.

She was locked out of her house, her car was locked inside the garage, her clothing was locked into the basement, her mouth was securely gagged, and her aching arms were secured behind her back. Rising from her hard packed earth, she noticed the butt plug was beginning to feel monstrously noticeable now, and realized the chemical reactions were proceeding, whether she wanted it to or not. The pleasant effects of the vibrations from the plug were being more than offset by the latest sensations the chemicals were causing.

Deciding that things had already gone on far longer than she had intended, she realized that if someone were to arrive they could see her easily from the yard. Determined not to allow that possibility, she worked her fingers around the edge of the barn door and pulled it almost completely to. The door only stood an inch or so open when she stopped, satisfied with her efforts.

Realizing she was on the borderline of being dehydrated, she walked into the stall and forced herself to drink some of the tepid water out of the bucket attached to the wall. It was not very appetizing looking, but at least it was wet and refreshed her somewhat. Besides, it was a temporary issue and she thoroughly intended to enjoy a nice glass of wine when this was over.

Staggering over to the stall door, she awkwardly hooked the fingers of her left hand onto the edge and pulled it closed. It took a few attempts, but she finally realized she was going to have to slam it behind her to get it to stay shut. As soon as she accomplished this task, she heard the cooler tipping and turned just in time to see the block of ice slide out and swing about wildly in the stall on the end of it’s cord.

Staring forlornly at the ice block dangling a good six feet in the air, Jasmine realized she would now simply have to wait for it to melt. Settling down on one ass cheek onto the hay in one corner, she made herself as comfortable as possible, stared at the ice, and studiously tried to ignore the burning sensation in her sphincter.

Hours later, Jasmine had developed a new sense of panic. The sun was almost down, and yet the ice block was far less than half melted! It should have been completely melted by now! She didn’t understand. She had done several trial runs in her apartment, creating the block of ice, then timing how long it took to melt. She could see it in her mind’s eye now, sitting in a pan on the kitchen table in her apartment, the sun shining through, the timer next to it telling her exactly how long it took to melt.

It was then that Jasmine realized the block of ice was actually in shadow, and the air temperature was substantially less than that in her apartment. Already, she was uncomfortably chilled as her sweat dried on her skin. Rooting around in the hay, she tried to burrow more deeply, eyeing the ice block with a growing sense of panic. As the last rays of the sun disappeared, and she was left in the cold darkness, she realized it was going to be a long night. The only other coverage was an old remnant of saddle blanket, really not enough to cover more than her torso. Unfortunately, that blanket was tossed over the top wall of the stall and was therefore out of reach.

She finally decided, if she was going to have to endure an overnight stay in the barn, she would at least get the nipple clamps off. She had been studying the problem intently while she waited for the ice to melt, and she had a plan. She had to implement it while there was still enough daylight to see by.

Rising from her bedding, she walked stiffly over to the feed trough. Standing before it, she verified that the corners were about breast high. Taking a last look at vicious clamps gripping her abused nipples, she carefully hooked the chain between the nipple clamps under the corner of the feed trough, closed her eyes and biting down hard on the bit, she yanked up sharply.

While her breasts had almost gone numb from the pressure, when she yanked on the chain, pain exploded at her nipples as the clamps pulled. One came off completely, but the other only slid down to the very tip end of the nipple. The pain was excruciating as Jasmine flung her body about uncontrollably in sheer agony. Pigeons scattered from the rafters of the barn as screams startled them into flight. Sometime during her gyrations, the other nipple clamp finally came off as well.

Collapsing onto the hay, Jasmine rolled over onto her stomach and pressed her aching breasts into the hay, anything to rub some relief into them! She didn’t know how long she lay there, weeping in pain. When she rolled over onto her back and checked again, the ice block was still hanging, hardly melting at all. Then she realized the butt plug was starting to feel much better now. The chemical reaction must be wearing off finally!

Jasmine spent the long cold night in the stall, listening to crickets at first, then complete silence. Occasionally, she would hear odd sounds elsewhere in the barn, and the thought of rats intruded onto her mind. All of this was experienced on top of the extreme discomfort the butt plug was exerting. At one point, the burning sensation had started again and was almost unbearable, and had she the use of her hands she would have long since removed it. Needless to say, she achieved no sleep despite her exhaustion, and in fact spent most of the evening kneeling in the corner, listening intently to the strange sounds of the barn.

The sun peeked over the trees bright and early the next morning, finding Jasmine huddled in the corner. Starving and shivering, she was already staring at the ice block through red rimmed eyes. The butt plug had finally worked through it’s final chemical reactions, and now she had only a dull ache to contend with.

With a haggard effort, she rose from her spot and walked to the opposite corner and squatted. There was no other option, and she was about to burst. The relief she felt was the first pleasure she’d had since she began, and she considered the sight she must make were anyone to see her, squatting with her tail swinging about, straining legs wide to avoid as much splash as possible. Then she had to walk spread footed to keep from dripping onto her own feet.

Walking over the water bucket, she drank deeply. The bucket was set high enough that she could only get her chin into it. When the water dropped far enough, she would be able to see it, but not reach it. She decided she could get through the day though, and drank again.

Hours later, she was watching the ice block with growing apprehension. It had not really warmed up that day, and the sun was not yet around far enough to shine directly into the stall. Her shivering told her the temperature had not really risen that much either. As such, the melting action was extremely slow. Much slower than she had planned. She began to think of the ice block as taunting her, and her despair grew.

By mid afternoon, her stomach would no longer be denied. With no other options, Jasmine walked over to the feed trough. The oats and carrots she had tossed in just for “flavor”, were her only food source. She had not eaten in over forty-eight hours, and with her exertions, she needed food. Timidly, she leaned into the trough and picked up a shred of oat as best she could between her bitted teeth. Gagging, she spat it out and moved onto a carrot. It was dried out as well, but more familiar and she chewed it slowly. She was beginning to wonder exactly how long she was going to be trapped, and determined that she would have to measure out her resources more carefully, and for as long as possible.

The rest of the day passed without event, and the ice block was still about one third present. One of the loops was even free and hanging down about a foot, but it was still out of reach. She could even see the keys, coated in dripping ice water, hanging below the ice block where it wasn’t fully melted. Looking out through the cracks in the wall, she watched the sun go down again.

This night was the same as the night before. And she got as little rest. She was convinced she heard things scratching about in the barn, and could only huddle more in a tighter fetal position in the corner. She was incredibly relieved when the sun rose on her third day of confinement, and one look at the ice block left her just as dejected.

Finally, about mid afternoon of the third day, her water was out of reach down inside the bucket, and her carrots were gone. Her ass was actually numb, but she considered this an improvement by now. She felt the ice would finally melt this day. She would take the keys, unlock her wrist cuffs and bridle, remove the hated butt plug, and go to the house. She would unlock the house, go to the basement and unlock the door, get her clothing and the rest of her keys.

She would go to her kitchen and feast on whatever was in the fridge. She was starving now, and looked forward to her meal. All she had to do was wait a little longer. So intent was she on her own thoughts, and so intent on watching the last of the ice melt, Jasmine didn’t hear the car drive up.

Brit got out and stretched. He’d phoned several times, but had gotten no answer. Worried, he’d decided to drive over and check on Jasmine to make sure she was settling in alright.

He’d stopped the day before at a photographer friends place, who had shown him photos of a pony girl shoot. They were good enough friends, that Brit knew exactly what had happened to the models, and was now fascinated by the subject himself. He had planned to visit Jasmine the day before, but had gotten so caught up in visiting the photographer that he had put off the trip one more day.

Now walking about the yard, he peered through the windows. Seeing no furniture out, he became more concerned. Walking around the property, he noticed the improvements to the trail, and the door to the stable standing ever so slightly ajar.

Walking into the barn, he called out “Jasmine? You in here? I tried to call, but you didn’t answer. Hello?” He opened the barn door and stopped in his tracks at the site of the cart with Max seated in it. He thought at first it was even a real man sitting there naked and grinning at him. Then he recovered himself and continued inside.

Hearing a scuffle in the stall, he walked over and looked in. His jaw dropped open in shock at what he saw.

Jasmine couldn’t do anything. All she had needed was a few more hours and she would have had the keys. As it was, her real estate agent was standing at the stall door staring at her with a open mouthed shock. Then a grin spread across his face.

“You did this to yourself, didn’t you?” he asked.

Shakily, tears streaming down her face anew, Jasmine nodded yes. Then she averted her eyes. She couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, she was so humiliated now.

“You’d like to get out now, wouldn’t you?” Brit was looking at the melting ice now, everything clear to him as if she had explained it in detail.

Again, Jasmine could only nod. Brit noticed her heaving bosom, and appreciated the effect her hyperventilating was having on her breasts as they shifted with every breath.

“Well, let’s see what we can do.” Stepping inside the stall, Brit reached up and pulled the keys off the end of the cord. It was only a slip knot, and it was easy to retrieve them. For him at least. Jasmine on the other hand still had her arms bound behind her back.

Jasmine rose shakily to her feet, and walked up to him stiffly, slowly turning her back to present her wrist cuffs and their padlocks. She was acutely aware of both her nudity and her vulnerability at the moment, and only wanted to be free as soon as possible so she could get dressed and figure out some way to buy off Brit to keep his mouth shut. She had already figured out he couldn’t keep a secret, and didn’t want to have to move again before she even settled in and enjoyed her new home. But first things first, she needed to be released.

To her surprise, Brit slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her to him roughly! His hands moved brusquely up her body, to squeeze her breasts harshly, then pulled on her nipples. Then one hand darted down between her thighs, slipping inside her without hesitation or pretext.

Jasmine rose to the toes of her boots squealing in horror and outrage. Shaking her head no, she tried to turn and look at him. Her fingers worked uselessly against his arms and chest, trying to push away. Unable to do so, she stamped from one foot to the other, but the movement of her thighs only provided Brit greater access. Shocked at his assuming behavior, she frantically hoped he would satisfy his initial impulses quickly and release her.

Brit instead hooked his fingers into her bridle! Her eyes widening in even greater disbelief, she felt herself being tugged out of the stall and led to the cart. Lifting one foot, Brit kicked Max out of the seat and guided Jasmine to the forks of the wagon.

Astonished and dismayed, Jasmine began shaking her head frantically, trying to mumble her objections around the bit. Even if he could have understood her, she realized Brit wouldn’t have listened. Forcing her elbows down, he took only minutes to figure out how the device worked and she heard the clicks as the pincers once again locked onto her cuff rings.

She didn’t have to turn around to know Brit had settled into the cart. She felt his weight when he sat down. Then she felt the buggy whip slash against her buttocks! Startled, she straightened up from her hunched posture and pulled forward instinctively. Guiding snaps from the buggy whip were all that were needed to direct her to the path. She tried to protest, to tell him she was already exhausted, but to no avail as the bit compromised her powers of speech too effectively.

Depressed, Jasmine turned down the path, knowing it would be much harder than the first time she took this route. In her weakened state, she already felt her legs getting wobbly. She also had a growing dread that Brit had no intention of releasing her.

In this respect, Jasmine was correct. Brit watched her pony tails bob in unison, both on her head as well as protruding from her ass. He admired her figure, the even tan of her flesh, and the way her muscles moved underneath her smooth moist skin. He appreciated how her ass cheeks alternated position with each stride, the pony tail swinging seductively and lodged firmly in the crevice between them. He noticed her tattoo on her thigh, wondering at the meaning. She was going to be his slave whether she wanted to or not, and as soon as this ride was over, he was going to use her physically in any way he desired.

Jasmine finally had her rescuer to deliver her from her distress. Only problem was, this was real and not a fantasy anymore. In a month, the contents of her bank account would be transferred to Brit, and Brit would sell her home to himself. Brit was looking forward to exploring their relationship to all extremes, and he didn’t give a damn what she felt about the matter.

She was his. But now he had to make a call to his photographer friend. He would know what to do and how to proceed.

Jasmine heard him dialing a number on his cell phone, her curiosity aroused in spite of her predicament. It was hard to hear him over her panting and exertions, as well as the noises the weighed down cart made as it traversed the gravel path. At least the distractions were not so bad that she snagged on that damn tree root again, however.

“Hey, guess what I found when I checked on that client I told you about.”

Brit let out an obnoxious laugh then.

“She actually set herself up as a pony girl! Can you believe it? She was trapped in the barn with a half melted chunk of ice holding her keys. I got there just in time. Another few hours and I would have missed the opportunity. Can you come over? I’d like your advice. Thanks”

Brit hung up the cell phone and whacked Jasmine across the ass. There was no reason for it, he just felt like it, and the sense of power in having dominion over another human being, especially one as attractive as Jasmine, had left him feeling omnipotent. The bright red marks she was collecting on her ass, lower back, and rib cage aroused even greater excitement within him.

By the time Jasmine had finished her circuit of the lake, she saw a Porsche pulling up. Instinctively, she knew it was the person Brit had called. The man who climbed out of the car was slightly older, with brown hair, mustache, and beard. Of average height, he moved quietly - spookily quietly. She had a feeling he noticed everything going on around him, and missed nothing. He exuded strength, but not in the overt manner of a body builder or gym rat, but rather muscles that he had earned through hard work. He emanated an aura of deadly power, and in spite of herself, Jasmine found herself responding to the stranger with curiosity so intense she almost forgot her nudity.

Jasmine panted as she pulled in front of the barn. She was already wondering what was next. If only she could figure out a way to escape! Instead, the stranger walked in front of her and just stood, staring at her from top to bottom, his arms crossed and his face pensive. It was as if he were grading her. Jasmine, in turn, could only look at the ground and turn several shades of red in humiliation. No matter how she tried to lift either leg, she knew her moist cunt was almost dripping by now, and the stranger knew it.

“She’s a bit shorter than most.” he said.

Brit seemed startled at this statement, possibly more from the fact that the stranger spoke than from what he said.

“Uh, yeah, but look at her! Man, she’s beautiful! And she did all of this to herself!”

“When was the last time she had food or water? You said she was in the stall?” The stranger seemed perturbed for some reason.

“Ah, I’m not sure. I just found her.”

“You mean you took her on a buggy ride without making sure she was in any condition to do so?” The stranger hadn’t raised his voice, but something in his tone was causing Jasmine’s heart to palpitate in fear. Brit seemed too stupid to pick up on it though.

“Well hell, she was already set up to pull the cart, I figured why not? It’s not like it hurt anything.”

The stranger simply hooked a finger into Jasmine’s bridle and backed her into the barn. Under his sure guidance, Jasmine found herself lowering the forks of the cart onto the posts in minutes this time, and stumbled away from the cart in relief afterwards.

Not giving her any freedom, the stranger expertly led her back into the stall. She shook her head negatively, but was too weak to do any more. She didn’t dare collapse on the floor of the stall, for fear she would never be able to get back up in her condition.

The stranger paused, noticing the nipple clamps laying where they had fallen, and picked them up and put them into his jacket pocket. Stepping out, he returned minutes later with the water pail. Filling the bucket, he led her to it where she drank deeply again. Lifting her head to catch her breath, water shimmered down her breasts, dripping off her nipples before she once more dunked her face into the pail for deep draughts of the cool fluid.

Coming up for breath again, she felt the cool liquid as it made it’s way down her throat and into her empty stomach. Gasping in relief, she saw the stranger had produced a nutrition bar from his pocket, broken a piece off, and was offering it to her. Greedily she took it in past the bit and worked at it, until it dissolved somewhat and it too started making it’s way down her throat. The rest of the bar followed shortly. Only after it was gone did she even consider if it had been spiked or not, or even where the strangers hands had been.

Relieved at the treatment she was receiving finally, she turned her back and offered her locks to the stranger. He simply turned away at this point and closed the stall door as he left, ignoring her whimpering as she stamped her feet in frustration. At this point, she heard another vehicle pulling in. She could barely see it through the barn door, but could tell it was a flat bed truck with some sort of mortuary logo on the door. Two large boxes were strapped to the bed.

Brit seemed suspicious now. “Who’s that?”

“Oh, just an acquaintance. We’re picking up the pony girl.”

“What? You can’t be serious! She’s mine!” Brit was actually sputtering at this point, his face a livid red.

“Sorry, you’re too free with your tongue. It wouldn’t be long before you couldn’t help yourself and you would blab to whoever would listen about your new toy. Next thing I know, I’d have the authorities breathing down my neck! Sorry Brit, but you are just too unreliable.”

Jasmine heard the exchange, and couldn’t agree more with the stranger’s assessment. But what would he do about it?

Brit was so focused on the stranger, who actually had his back to him studying the cart, that he didn’t notice the new arrival walking in behind him through the barn door. A plastic bag in hand, the man quietly walked up to Brit from behind and pulled it abruptly down over his head. A plastic cinch was pulled tight, cutting off his air, and Brit was left staggering about in the walkway trying to tear the bag from his head, his eyes huge and round and the plastic from the bag already getting sucked down his throat.

Unfortunately for him, the clear plastic material was too heavy to tear, and the tie was a one way closure. The only way to get it off was to cut it off. The newest stranger, dressed ominously in a plain black suit and black tie with white shirt just stood there. The other stranger continued to look away studiously, ignoring the man’s slow death.

Minutes later, Brit passed out. He was bundled into a body bag unceremoniously. If he was still alive, he wouldn’t be much longer because the bag was left in place.

“Make sure to cremate him. I want no trace left.”

“Yes sir. I’ll take care of it personally as soon as I return”

“Thank you. Have your employer bill me. In the meantime, do you mind helping me get the pony girl into the shipping container?”

“Not at all, sir. I’d be delighted to.” The second stranger left the barn for the flat bed truck again and the first stranger flipped out a thin cell phone and hit a number on speed dial.

“Hey Joe, how’s it going?” The stranger paced in a small circle, intent on what the person on the other end of the conversation was saying. “Yeah, I know you really wanted Samantha, but that’s how it goes. I’d have figured you had gotten over that by now. Besides, Cymbra had Sir Jeff backing her. High bidder got her. But how about a little consolation prize? You and Scarlett have been really good clients over the years, and I want to give you first opportunity at a new acquisition. I’m picking her up as we speak.”

At this point, the other stranger returned, one of the boxes on a hand cart. Setting the cart down, he returned to the flat bed truck. The first stranger simply glanced at him before continuing the conversation.

“Yeah, only thing is, she’s untrained. Oh, and you need to give her an enema as soon as you get her, she’s gone for quite a while without any type of relief. I can deliver her directly to you, as long as you realize what you’re getting. I just don’t have the time to bother training her at the moment. Is this acceptable to you?”

The stranger paused again, and watched the second stranger drop off a second box.

“You got it then. That price is acceptable to me. Write up the papers and we’ll transfer ownership when I get there. Yeah, no problem. Like I said, you’re some of my best customers. Oh, this is a surprise for Scarlett? No problem, she won’t hear a word from me. See ya in a few hours then. Later.”

The second stranger had returned now, and the two of them lifted Brit’s body and dropped it unceremoniously into the first box. Moments later, the lid was nailed shut and the container was trundled back out to the truck on the hand cart.

Jasmine heard the two men loading the container onto the truck, then their footsteps returning. Nervously, she backed into the far corner of her stall, a new terror building in her almost empty stomach, as more strange noises emanated from the aisle outside. In less than a minute, her fright was justified as the bearded stranger opened the door and entered the stall. Try as she might, Jasmine could avoid his reach for only seconds before she felt his fingers slip into her bridle and close in an iron grip. Squirming her body away, her head was still held fast, and where he led she had to follow.

Jasmine found herself being led out towards the remaining box, only now it had been broken down. Five panels lay to the side, and only the base of the box remained in place. A sturdy “T” shaped device rose from the crate floor, and various straps lay about. The intent was clear, and Jasmine began to squeal around her bit in protest. Shaking her head again, futilely, both strangers forced her onto the crate floor, and then looped a restraint around her ankles. Forcing her down to her knees, she had to spread her legs, which were then tied down in this lewd position. Next, her shoulders were forced back onto the “T”, and leather straps criss-crossed her chest, biting into her flesh and pinning her to the odd pillery device.

The bearded stranger then paused, a small grin on his face, and squatted down in front of her, staring at her open cunt. Reaching into a cardboard box nearby, that apparently had been delivered with the box, he pulled out a huge dildo and lubricant. Applying lubricant liberally to the dildo, he worked it between the lips of her cunt, inserting it deeper and deeper. Jasmine tried to rise off of it, yet more squeals erupting from her during the entire process, but could only pivot her pelvic area about. This of course only let the man work it in even more easily. When she rose, he would insert it more, and when she collapsed down again she only managed to impale herself further. This process continued until it felt as if she were going to be ripped apart by it!

Once it was in as far as it would go, the stranger worked the other end down onto a small peg on the crate floor until it clicked into place, locked. Sliding his fingers back up the shaft, he rubbed lightly along her stretched labia, noticing they were stretched to their limit now, and could take no more.

Jasmine felt his fingers playing about, and felt a small thrill while at the same time she was aghast at the familiarity he was displaying so casually. Still, it had been a while since anyone at all other than herself had touched her there, that even in that state of distress she felt a thrill course through her.

Afterwards, Jasmine could only work her head around, her eyes wide in terror, as the two men began attaching three of the side panels. Otherwise, she was completely immobilized. Once those were in place, the top panel was lifted over and attached, the bearded stranger looking in through the side to check and make sure her head was not being unduly squashed by the top lid. She did have to lean her head back uncomfortably, but it fit. Finally, the remaining side panel was moved into place.

Idly, after the pain and discomfort had subsided a bit and she watched the last panel being lifted into place, Jasmines mind began to focus again. She wondered who Joe and Scarlett were, and what depravity they intended to inflict on her as well. Given the brutality she had already witnessed, her odds of escape were slim.

Jasmine’s expression then turned one of pure wide eyed horror as she realized they were almost finished with their preparations. It was as if the men had been lowering the lid of her casket into place rather than the final panel of a transport box. Her old life was ending. In a few hours, her new life would begin.