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Rhea crawled into her bed after a long night of dancing at Club Yulo. It really wasn't her scene, but it was her friend's birthday and that friend had insisted. Rhea hadn't dressed all that provocatively, but she had received an abundance of male attention all the same. Her D-cup breasts were a lure no matter what she wore, as was her silky-smooth and perfectly-tanned skin. Even when she dressed conservatively, she liked to show off her athletic physique: her toned arms and legs, and the stomach that didn't make her look scrawny but didn't have an ounce of excess weight on it. Her close male friends told her that she had a soft and inviting look that was incredibly appealing.
Rhea was used to warding off undue male advances, but she wasn't as cautious about other women. When a tall brunette standing next to her at the bar told her that her neck looked tight and offered a quick massage, Rhea gladly accepted. The neck rub felt great until something sharp on the brunette's ring jabbed into the back of Rhea's neck. It was more surprising than it was painful, but it was hard to get the embarrassed brunette to stop apologizing for it. When her drink came, Rhea was all too happy to just leave the situation behind and get back to her friends.
The next morning, Rhea sat up in her bed as the sun started to stream in through her windows. She rubbed her temples, trying to clear her head from the bizarre dream she had just woken up from.
"Where on Earth did that come from?" she wondered. Her memories of the dream were a little hazy, but she clearly remembered being locked in a tiny, dimly-lit room that would have been barely large enough for her to lie down in. There had been a voice commanding her to do things. Actually, it was more like the voice was training her to do things, such as kneel and stand at attention. The voice had repeated those two commands over and over again. And if she didn't quickly get herself into exactly the right position, then she'd get some kind of electric shock that would encourage her to try even harder.
Rhea also remembered that she had been completely naked throughout the dream. The positions she had to get in served to highlight her nudity. When at "Attention," her big boobs had to be thrust out and up as far as she could push them, and when told to "Kneel," her bare ass had to be pushed upwards while she pressed her face into the floor. Rhea wondered why the hell her brain had put her through the miserable experience for what seemed like hours while she slept.
But a dream is just a dream, and Rhea shook it off and forgot about it until she had a repeat of the same experience a week later. She sure hoped it would go away after that, but quite the opposite, it became more frequent. She started visiting that stupid little room in her dreams two or three times a week.
The dreams also started to get more detailed. Her third time, she remembered wearing thigh-high latex boots that had five-inch heels and kept her painfully up on her toes. She continued to wear those boots in every dream from then on.
The next week, in addition to the boots, she was also wearing some kind of latex sheath that trapped her arms behind her back, squeezing her hands, forearms, and elbows tightly together. She remembered it being extremely uncomfortable. When she woke from that dream, she thought she might be imagining it, but her shoulders seemed to be a little bit sore... just as they had in the dream.
The carryover of the soreness from her dreams to reality finally convinced Rhea that she needed to talk with someone about it all. She was pretty embarrassed about the whole situation, and really didn't want to have to admit to one of her friends that some stupid dreams were starting to bother her. Instead, she made an appointment with a sleep doctor. She explained everything to the doc and asked if she was going crazy. The doctor told her that she didn't need to worry. Strings of dreams like this were common, and that they would fade and go away eventually. Because she was so insistent, the doctor also gave Rhea some pills to help her sleep better.
The dreams just kept coming, sleeping pills or not. In them, the boots and armbinder were joined by a tight latex corset that held her big boobs up high and made deep breaths impossible. Next came a gag made out of a rubber ball that forced her mouth wide open. Each dream always started the same: on her knees in the tiny room, face pressed to the floor where she would have to stay until she was told to move, if she wanted to avoid a punishing shock. Then the voice would command her to form various positions.
The positions for "Attention" and "Kneel" were always repeated. Over time the list grew. "Spread" meant standing with her feet almost touching the opposite walls of the small room and bending over so that her chest was parallel to the ground. "Milkshake" meant bouncing her big udders rapidly back and forth. "Blow" meant kneeling upright with her back arched and her knees spread to just the right angle. The voice also began to command her to march in place, requiring her knees to be lifted to just the right height with every step if she wanted to avoid punishment.
The dreams were starting to come more often than not. It was humiliating to wake up morning after morning, knowing that she had spent the night in her head acting out some bizarre sexual fantasy. After a month, Rhea was worried that she'd really go crazy if she didn't confide in anyone. She decided to call up her friend Luissa. To Rhea's dismay, Luissa couldn't stop chuckling as Rhea described the repeat dreams.
"My dear," Luissa teased, "you're training yourself to be a ponygirl in your sleep! Oh, you don't even know what that is? You should look it up!"
Rhea was pissed at her friend for laughing, and slammed the phone down. But she did take the advice of looking up 'ponygirl' online, and was horrified by the images she found.
"How on earth did I start dreaming about this?" she wondered.
Rhea noticed the butt plugs and nipple clamps sported by many of the women in the pictures, and quickly closed her browser. She didn't want to give her subconscious any more ammunition to use against her in her sleep. But she fixated on butt plugs for the rest of the day, thinking about how awful it would be to have something inserted into her ass. That hole was always way off limits for her for anything but shitting. She had never considered it even remotely sexual and had no interest whatsoever in ever experimenting with it. But how could she stop her subconscious from experimenting?
In Rhea's dream that very night, she was kept waiting in the initial kneeling position with her face pressed against the floor. She felt something hard press against her rear hole. She was horrified, but by that point she had been trained well not to turn her head to look or move at all, for fear of the punishment that would instantly come. Instead, she held her position obediently as the butt plug took its time teasing the outside of her hole. She remembered the feeling of dread as she knelt there in her dream, knowing that the plug was going to push itself into her ass, and knowing that there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Rhea had tried desperately to make herself wake up, but she had tried that before, and it had never worked. And so, ever so slowly, the plug had slid its way into her ass, stretching her poor virgin sphincter beyond what she thought she could take without ripping. It popped into place and stayed there for the rest of the dream. She was constantly aware of it as she was led through her poses and marching exercises. She felt the stretching of her hole, the movement of the long shaft poking into her bowls, and the tickling of the horse-hair tail that must have been extending out from the plug, just as she had seen in those pictures. She also remembered feeling just a little bit turned on, and that was what humiliated her the most as she recalled the dream in the morning.
Rhea called up Luissa to curse her friend for recommending that she look up those images, but before she got a word in, Luissa was screaming at her because she had started having the same dreams! Rhea knew it was mean, but was pissed off herself, so laughed heartily at her friend. Luissa promptly hung up on her, and the two friends didn't talk again for a number of weeks.
Rhea's dreams just kept getting worse and worse, and they were coming virtually every night. The butt plug entered every dream, whether it was pushed into her near the beginning of the dream, or already up her ass when the dream started. In addition to the plug and all the other gear, she started wearing tight nipple clamps, a tall posture collar and blinders. She mastered the art of marching in place wearing the boots and all the other gear, and was also taught to trot and prance in place.
In the dreams, she responded instantly to commands of kneel, spread, milkshake, and on and on. She was so used to responding to those commands in her dreams that she started worrying about the affect it was having on her real life. Someone near her at work said the word "kneel" in casual conversation, and she just barely caught herself from dropping to her knees right there in the office. If the word had been said as a command, she wondered if she would have been able to catch herself.
After that experience she went to see another sleep doctor. To her great irritation, he just tried to convince her that she was acting out repressed sexual fantasies in her dreams. He then suggested that perhaps she should try some of those fantasies in real life. He winked at her as he said that, and she ran out of his office.
After two months of spending her sleeping hours locked in a tiny room, Rhea's dreams started taking her to some kind of basement track. The first time she was there, she remembered starting off kneeling, as usual, and noticing that the floor was different. That was all she could see until she was commanded to stand. As she stood, she could feel that there was something attached to her corset a weight that she had to lift as she got up.
She could also sense that there was someone standing next to her, but she couldn't see the person because of her blinders, and she was too well trained at that point to turn her head to look. A voice had boomed in the underground track, stating that the commands for marching-in-place, trotting-in-place, and prancing-in-place were to be exchanged for marching, trotting, and prancing forwards. The voice then commanded a forward march. Rhea could tell that she was pulling whatever-it-was that was attached to her corset, and that she must be pulling alongside whoever was next to her.
As Rhea thought about her first track dream the following morning, she had to wonder where the hell her mind was coming up with everything. Why it had suddenly shifted settings? Why it couldn't have shifted away from some of the horrible gear in the process?! She would have been quite happy to get rid of the butt plug, which was even more irritating as she walked around and around the track than when she had been walking in place.
Rhea also wondered who the person next to her was supposed to be. Her dreams kept bringing her back to that track, night after night, but she was never able to see who was next to her or whether she was pulling anyone on the cart, or whatever it was, that was attached to her.
On a Saturday morning, one week into the track dreams, she got a call from Luissa. Rhea expected an apology, but instead was shocked to hear that Luissa had started having the same dreams in the underground track, and had snuck a peak and thought that she had seen Rhea next to her...
...Rhea woke up in her bed, grabbing her watch to confirm that it was 8AM on Sunday morning. As usual, the first thing she thought about was the ponygirl dream from the night before: yet another session on the track, forced to trot and prance endlessly around in circles. Then she thought about the day before and tried to remember what she had done. She remembered having that conversation with Luissa, finding out that her friend had had the same dream.
But how had they ended the conversation? And what had she done with the rest of the day? She couldn't remember anything, and wondered if she had just fallen back asleep and slept the whole day and night. Were these stupid ponygirl dreams exhausting her so much that she needed all that extra sleep?
Rhea went about her day, trying to get all the things done that she had intended to get done the day before. At the end of the day, she was still baffled by how she could have slept through the whole day Saturday. She thought again about the call from Luissa the day before and how Luissa had said she thought she had seen her. In a flash, Rhea remembered more about her own latest dream, which somehow seemed foggier in her head than usual.
She remembered that in the dream she had thought about the call with Luissa, and how Luissa had said she had glanced over. And so, in her dream, Rhea had taken her own glance. The memory of that part of the dream was especially foggy, but she definitely remembered taking a glance at her ponygirl partner. She hadn't seen her face, but before she received the shock that made her look straight ahead again, she remembered seeing her partner's pale fair skin, thin athletic build, and golden blonde curls. Those traits definitely could all have belonged to Luissa.
Rhea decided she'd better call Luissa back and try to figure out what the hell was going on. But her friend was furious at her for calling, screaming that it was all her fault...
...Rhea woke up in her bed. Just like the day before, she grabbed her watch to confirm the day and time: 7AM Monday morning. She groaned, for losing another day and because she was sore all over. She remembered her dream from the night before all too well. She had been dressed up in all her standard pony gear, but also had her ankles strapped tightly in a spread position, her hair pulled painfully above her head, and her bound arms pulled up behind her. Something that looked like an electric cattle prod was waved in front of her face, then the booming voice admonished her for disobeying and looking around where she was not supposed to look.
The prod was pressed onto her right ass cheek. "Only look where you are told to look," boomed the voice as a searing electric shock had hit her ass. The prod was poked into her left ass cheek, the admonition was repeated, and she was given another shock. This had gone on for what she remembered thinking was hours and hours. Every part of her body had been ruthlessly shocked tits, thighs, pussy, throat, armpits. She had been told again and again to keep her eyes forward at all times, to not try to look at her rider or her fellow pony, and never to try to contact her fellow pony.
Rhea lay in her bed. That dream had been horrible, and for a second morning in a row she had apparently slept away the entire day. Why was her subconscious doing this to her?? She thought about calling Luissa again, but if she did that, would her subconscious just decide that she needed to be punished again the next time she went to sleep? She thought about going back to the sleep doctor, but worried that that might also trigger another one of those punishment dreams. She wanted to avoid that at all costs.
Rhea decided that if she just didn't talk to anyone, then she would convince her subconscious that she was a good girl, and she wouldn't have the dream again. She spent a miserable day at work. The punishment dream from the night before hadn't left any visible marks, but it had left her sore and exhausted. That night, tired as she was, she decided not to go to sleep. If she didn't sleep, she couldn't dream, and she wouldn't be at risk of more of those horrible shocks. So she sat in her living room reading a good long book, refilling a cup of coffee whenever it got empty, and...
...woke up in her chair the next morning. She cursed herself for apparently dozing off. At least she hadn't had another punishment dream, but her dreams had taken her back to that damn track for another night of pulling some unseen rider around and around.
Rhea's dreams kept coming, not quite every night, but most nights. She didn't talk to Luissa about them again, and didn't get another punishment dream. In the mornings, she tried not to think about the dreams. It was bad enough that she had to spend her nights dreaming about being a ponygirl; she didn't want to spend her days thinking about it too.
But one morning, she couldn't avoid thinking about her dream from the night before. For the first time, the rider she was pulling had gotten off the cart. He stood behind her and reached forward to grab hold of her right nipple. All Rhea remembered seeing out of the corner of her vision was a black gloved hand that painfully rolled and pulled her nipple. But she remembered what the rider had said all too well: that ponygirls ought to have their nipples pierced, and that he wanted his ponies to get their nipples pierced before they came back.
Rhea had no intention of getting her nipples pierced. She found the concept demeaning and repulsive, and it was just a stupid dream anyway. But as the day wore on, she worried. She remembered the punishment dream all too well. If she didn't get her nipples pierced, would she know in her mind that she had been disobedient, and would she spend another horrible night getting shocked? But she wrote that off as ridiculous she wasn't going to put holes in her tender flesh just because a dream had told her to do so!
Rhea thought about trying to stay up all night, but the effort had been worthless the last time she tried. Instead, as she went to bed, she repeated to herself over and over that she was a good girl and didn't need to be punished. She tried to push the idea of punishment out of her mind all together and think happy thoughts, but as she drifted into sleep, that nagging worry was still in her mind...
...Rhea jumped out of bed as soon as she woke up, horrified at her memory of the terrible dream she had been through. It seemed like it had lasted from the moment she drifted off to sleep until just before she had woken up. She checked her body for marks, but as before, there were none. It was just a dream, she told herself, but the memories of the horrific shocks from the cattle prod were very real. The voice had told her again and again that she was a bad girl for not pleasing her master by piercing her nipples. Those nipples had been the focus of most of the shocks.
Rhea went back to the sleep doctor, desperate for help, but the doctor just told her that she needed to calm down about the whole situation and remember that these were just dreams she wasn't really being hurt in her sleep. But she had tried the night before to just be "calm", and while these might just be dreams, she couldn't stand the thought of having another one.
Rhea decided that she would stay up all night again, but instead of staying at her house where she was worried she might slip into sleep accidentally, she went out to a late night coffee house. When the shop closed at 3AM, she figured she would just walk around outside for a couple hours until her gym opened at 5:30. She was exhausted and pissed at herself for having to deny herself much needed sleep, but she didn't know what else to do, so she just walked and walked and...
... Rhea woke up to the sound of someone asking if she was okay. She was lying in the grass on someone's front lawn, and she did not feel okay. She must have passed out from her exhaustion while she had been walking, and she had had another punishment dream. It had been shorter, but the shocks had been even more painful.
All day at work, she couldn't stop thinking about how awful the punishment dream had been. That fucking cattle prod could make her skin feel like it was on fire, and it had been used ruthlessly all over her. She found herself googling piercing parlors. There was one fairly close by that looked clean and did nipples.
"No!" she shouted at herself, "I won't do it! This is crazy!"
But she couldn't stand the idea of another punishment dream, and she couldn't think of any other way to avoid it. The parlor was open until 8PM. She tried to go just after work, but couldn't quite work up the nerve to do it. She forced herself to swallow her pride and go back at 7PM, but still couldn't bring herself to get out of the car until 7:50. At that point she ran in, panicked that she might miss her chance and have to endure another night of shocks.
The piercing artist told her she'd have to come back the next day because he didn't have time to pierce her that night. But Rhea begged and pleaded with him, and convinced him to make an exception. Sitting in the artist's chair, topless, while he rubbed a topical anesthetic onto her nipples, Rhea closed her eyes tight. She tried not to think about what she was doing to herself just because some stupid dream had told her to. The artist told her that she had really nice nipples and asked if she was sure she wanted to pierce them.
"Just do it!" she screamed, but then had to swallow her anger and her pride and make nice to keep him from stopping.
Rhea burned with humiliation as she walked back to her car. After she yelled at him, the bastard had taken pictures of her breasts before he pierced them, saying that he always took before-and-after shots, and that he wouldn't do the piercing if she refused. After the first piercing, he took more pictures. He had started taking one that would clearly include her face as well as her naked breasts. When she tried to turn away and hide her face, he said that she had to smile or he wouldn't pierce her other nipple.
The ridiculousness of that threat burned Rhea. She was being forced to get her nipples pierced by a stupid dream that she couldn't shake, and now she was going to be an advertisement for this jerk because she had waited too long to go anywhere else. But at least she was going to get a good night's sleep that night!
In Rhea's first dream after getting her nipples pierced, the rider had stood behind her and fondled both her breasts, playing with the nipple rings that appeared faithfully in her dream as soon as her real nipples had been pierced. He told her and the other pony how pleased he was with their obedience and willingness to make him happy. He then clipped a set of reins to her nipple rings and proceeded to use them to steer her around the track.
The humiliation of being guided by her nipple rings, and of being told that she was a good girl for obediently getting the piercings for her master, was hard to bear. But Rhea knew it wasn't as bad as another night of punishing shocks. She wanted to get in touch with Luissa to see if she also had been forced to get pierced by her dreams, but her last call had lead to a night of punishment, and her curiosity didn't come close to overpowering her need to avoid those punishment dreams.
She thought maybe she could try to send Luissa an email or a letter or something, but knew it wouldn't work. Her dream had told her not to try to contact her fellow pony. No matter what medium she used, her brain would know if she tried, and would almost certainly punish her the next night. There was no way she could hide from her own mind! And so Rhea kept the humiliating dreams to herself, and night-by-night became better at obeying the commands from a master she had never seen.
Three weeks after piercing her nipples, Rhea woke up from a dream in which her master had been stroking her ass and talking about how good ponygirl slaves would tattoo the word 'SLAVE' on both of their ass cheeks. She cursed her brain for having come up with this new idea, and the punishment she knew she would dream if she didn't obey. She wracked that brain for a way out, but knew she was in the same situation as with her nipple piercings. She couldn't escape her dreams, and she couldn't bear the thought of those punishments again.
But would she really tattoo that word onto her own ass? Twice?? Tattoos were permanent! She had figured that at least the nipple piercings would fill in and go away once these damn dreams stopped, but erasing tattoos didn't really work. Maybe she could get it covered with something else once the dreams ended. Rhea realized that she was already assuming that she'd get the tatts, and hung her head in defeat. She knew she didn't have the will power to risk another punishment dream.
Rhea tried to pick a respectable looking tattoo parlor and made an appointment this time. She attempted to act professional when she arrived and hoped to just get it over quickly. But it's hard to act professional when you're bent over a table with your pants down. And you really can't expect a tattoo artist not to comment when you ask him to permanently write 'SLAVE' on both of your cheeks. He had looked her up and down pretty hard when she told him what she wanted. When she dropped her pants he told her that she had one lucky master. She glared over her shoulder and told him that it wasn't like that. He just chuckled and condescendingly patted the bare butt that she was presenting to him.
That night in Rhea's dream, the rider was quite pleased that both of his ponies had quickly obeyed him by tattooing their flanks. He kept them both into the kneeling position while he admired them. With her face pressed to the floor, Rhea could only see the rider's black boots out of the corner of her eye. She could, however, feel his hand caressing the very tender tattoos on her ass and giving her a couple very painful slaps.
The man then praised her for her obedience and told her that he was going to give her a reward. She felt something hard pressed against her pussy lips. The dildo that was pushed slowly into her was large and filled her completely by the time her rider had shoved it all the way in. The intruder was locked in place by a strap that was passed between her legs and tied off to her corset. That strap pressed some kind of attachment that was on the end of the dildo directly against Rhea's clit, which made her nervous.
Rhea woke that morning with an embarrassingly large wet spot on her bed. Apparently the orgasms in her dream had translated to real orgasms. She really didn't like the control these dreams had come to assert over her. But in her dream the very next night she remembered hoping that she would be rewarded again, and trying to be extra good so that she might get it. It was humiliating to think that she was debasing herself that way in her dreams just to get vibrated, but shit, she'd been obeying orders most every night for months now. She'd completely stopped communicating with her friend Luissa, and she'd even pierced and tattooed herself. She couldn't fool herself she was a slave, through-and-through, for however long her dreams wanted to keep her.
3 Years Later
Rhea hesitantly took the witness stand. She was not looking forward to having to recount the ordeal she had been through. But she took one look at the man who the police said was responsible for all this, sitting there smugly and even now looking at her like a piece of meat, and she firmed up her resolve. That bastard had to pay.
The state prosecutor had laid out the whole situation in his opening argument. Hearing the full story all together, Rhea had a hard time believing that she had been duped so thoroughly. All of her "dreams" had been real! The defendant, Mr. Paul Carey, had implanted a grain-of-rice-sized device in the base of her and Luissa's necks that allowed him to turn their consciousnesses on and off like a light.
This man had been knocking them out and transporting them out of their bedrooms, first to that tiny room and then to an underground track below his estate. While he was "training" them, he had used a drug that would make their memories hazy. Then he had been knocking them back out and returning them to their beds. It sounded so impossible, and yet, after the police had come to Rhea's house and told her they had caught her tormentor, the dreams had stopped cold.
Rhea saw the looks of doubt on the jury members' faces as the prosecutor described what Mr. Carey had done. She was quite upset that those doubting looks grew stronger as she described the story in detail from her perspective. It did sound crazy that she had pierced and tattooed herself based on what she thought had been dreams. The jury was shown pictures of her pierced nipples and tattooed ass. Did she imagine the male jury members smiling lustfully as they looked at those shots and then back at her?
Then she also had to open her mouth wide to show them the tongue ring she had been forced to get, and she had to demonstrate that the nose ring she wore did indeed pass straight through her septum. The prosecutor had instructed her to keep both rings in until after the trial to gain sympathy from the jury, but now Rhea was feeling like the rings just made her look like a complete idiot.
The prosecutor had also instructed that she wear a fairly short skirt to the trial so that she could easily show the jury the picture of a whip that was tattooed around her upper right thigh, and the picture of a riding spur on her upper left thigh. Of course she also had to lift up her shirt to show the belly ring she had been forced to get, and the word "OBEDIENCE" that was tattooed across her flat stomach. Finally she had to describe in detail the piercings through her clit and pussy lips, since the judge wouldn't allow a picture of those in his courtroom.
The prosecutor then pulled out a small black box that he said had been confiscated from Mr. Carey's house. He told the jury that it could send the knock-out signal to the device in Rhea's neck, which she had kept in for the purpose of this demonstration. Rhea was quite agitated at that point from having to show off all of her humiliating body modifications, and she hadn't realized that the prosecutor was actually going to demonstrate knocking her out. She started to stand up to object...
...and woke up sitting in the prosecutor's chair, hearing the prosecutor state for the record that Rhea had clearly been fully unconscious even while she was lifted from the witness stand, carried past the jury box for their inspection, and set down in his chair. And for the record, he continued, she didn't even move a bit when one of the jurors in the front row had reached out and pinched one of her nipples. Rhea's face burned when she heard this, but the prosecutor whispered in her ear that the juror incident had only helped prove the case that she was indeed out cold.
Rhea was then called back to the witness stand for cross examination. Burning with embarrassment, she passed in front of the jury members wondering if it was the dirty old man, the fat slob, or the sleazy looking businessman who had groped her.
If she had thought it had been hard to tell the story to the tune of the state prosecutor's questions, it turned out to be infinitely worse to answer the questions from Mr. Carey's attorney. He asked her to describe a dream she had the night before, and then to describe the last episode she remembered as a ponygirl slave. She could only give a vague recollection of some abstract dream she remembered from the night before, but she vividly described her last memory of the track, in which she had been blindfolded, fitted with a strap-on dildo, and forced to fuck her fellow pony in the ass.
The attorney kept asking for more and more detail, and reminded her that she was under oath, so she went on to tell of how she was then bent over a bar and fucked in the ass by her fellow pony while she was forced to suck her rider's cock.
"And what was this rider doing while you were blowing him?" Mr. Carey's attorney asked.
"He was pulling upwards on a chain connected to my nose ring and pulling downwards on a chain connected to my tongue ring."
"And how far did you take him in?"
"I always had to take him all the way in, sir."
"Had he done anything to your nipples?"
"Yes, he attached little bells to them that jingled as I was jerked forward and back."
"Anything to your other piercings?
"Yes, my labia and clit rings were holding a vibrator against my pussy."
"And did you have an orgasm during this episode?"
Rhea hesitated and the attorney repeated the question forcefully, to which she had to answer "Yes."
"Interesting," the attorney mused, "so you had an orgasm even while all these things were being forced on you that you supposedly didn't like. All right Ms. Rhea, you can barely remember a real dream from last night, but you can recall every intimate detail of your last ponygirl episode, which happened almost two months ago. Do you have any explanation for how you could have believed that those episodes were real dreams, when they were clearly so different from your actual dreams?"
The attorney let Rhea stammer for a while, then cut her off, asking: "Did you ever go to the police with your supposed 'dreams'?"
"No, but I.."
"Just a 'no' is sufficient please. Was there anything physically preventing you from bringing your accusations to the police?
"No, nothing physical, but if.."
"Again, just yes or 'no' is sufficient. Now, please recall the day you got your nipples pierced. Were you tied down when they were pierced?
"No, of course not."
"Did you drive to the piercing parlor alone, or was someone in the car forcing you to go?"
"I was alone."
"And did you pay for those piercings yourself?"
"Was this the case for all your other piercings and your tattoos?
"Now, Ms. Rhea, please tell us how you are currently employed."
"I used to be an accountant.."
"Not what you used to do, what you currently do."
"I am a dancer."
"What kind of dancer, and who is your employer?"
"I am a stripper at Coyote's, but my dream... they made me.."
"That's enough. Do you ever dance for any of the Coyote patrons in private?"
Rhea was aghast that this was coming up, but she was under oath and had to answer truthfully. "Yes."
"And did you ever let any of those patrons pay you for sex?"
Rhea looked down. She hadn't had a choice; her dreams would have punished her if she hadn't accepted every offer of money for sex. She looked at the state attorney, who was supposed to be on her side, but he just looked angry, maybe because she hadn't told him about the sex. Mr. Carey's attorney repeated the question twice, and Rhea finally had to mumble: "Yes."
"So, you have been working as a stripper and as a whore, is that correct?"
Rhea didn't know how her face could keep burning hotter. "Yes."
"Now Ms. Rhea, please show us again that tattoo on your stomach."
The state attorney objected, but Mr. Carey's attorney said it was critical to demonstrating the character of the witness, and the judge overruled. The old lecher probably just wanted to see her midriff again.
Once Rhea had exposed the word "OBEDIENCE" written in large black letters across her belly, Mr. Carey's attorney said "Please continue to hold up your shirt and tell us if you have an obedient nature."
Rhea stammered: "What? But I was forced... I couldn't.. But.."
"Ms. Rhea, if you refuse to admit this fact, maybe you could demonstrate for us instead. Attention!"
The attorney had said this assertively as a direct command, and Rhea found her body obeying before she could stop herself. She stood tall on her toes, thrust out her chest and ass, and stared straight ahead. Before the state prosecutor could object, Mr. Carey's attorney ordered her to turn around and called out the command: "Spread!"
Rhea really tried not to do this, but after her years of training, she just couldn't help it. She spread her legs wide, clasped her arms behind her back, and bent over low, as if she were offering her ass to the jury members. Now she really hated the fact that she was wearing a short skirt. She was showing off more than just the tattoos on her thighs. Her bent position was causing her skirt to ride up and show off the bottom of her ass as well.
The stupid state prosecutor finally objected. However, being an obedient slave caught up in the situation, Rhea held her position while Mr. Carey's attorney slowly explained the value to the jury of seeing her obedient nature first hand. She waited longer as the judge hemmed and hawed, then finally said "Objection sustained. Ms. Rhea, please cover your buttocks and sit back down."
After the questioning, Rhea wanted nothing else than to run out of the courtroom. The state prosecutor convinced her that if she left, then it would look like she wasn't really standing behind her accusations. Paul Carey would be more likely to go free. So she begrudgingly stayed and watched Luissa's testimony.
The state prosecutor focused on all the painful things that had been inflicted on Luissa. Rhea was surprised to learn that her fellow slave had actually tried writing an S.O.S. note, but that she fell asleep before sending it and was mercilessly punished with the cattle prod. Rhea hadn't been aware that her fellow pony had been forced to wear heavy weights hung from her nipple rings for weeks following that incident, and was told it was a reminder to be obedient.
Mr. Carey's attorney pressed Luissa in many of the same ways he had pressed Rhea, and also focused on her supposed effort to ask for help. Why hadn't she written the note while she was in a public place? Or tell one of her co-workers while on the job? Or just started talking when she happened to be walking past a policeman, which she certainly did at some point in the last three years?
The attorney openly scoffed as she gave the same excuse time after time about being afraid of the punishment, then asked her again and again if she really wanted to stop the episodes. She kept saying that she did, but it was clear that under the withering questions even she was starting to have doubts.
The attorney then asked if she ever had an orgasm while receiving the punishing shocks. Luissa's fair skin had been turning redder and redder. She was bright red from her forehead down through the plunging neckline of the blouse that showed off the tattoos of scorpions poised to sting her nipples (again on the advice of the state prosecutor).
Luissa hung her head and mumbled: "Yes, I have."
"How many times?"
"I... I've lost count."
"Did you orgasm often during these supposed punishing shocks?"
"Yes, but I still hated it.."
"Ms. Luissa, are you sure that you really wanted to stop these episodes?"
"I... well, I... "
"That's all right, we'll let the jury determine your intentions, please return to your seat."
Luissa tried to scurry back to her chair, but the attorney moved into her way so she had to turn towards the jury to get around him. As soon as she did, he firmly said: "Upward Dog."
Without hesitation, the blond bombshell dropped to her stomach then kept her legs and pelvis down as she arched her back and pushed her upper body into a vertical position, forming the common yoga position. But this position was certainly not common in a courtroom, and the plunging neckline of Luissa's loose blouse gave all of the jury members a fantastic view of her tits.
The courtroom was silent for a moment as the limber girl held the pose, then a small chuckle from one jury member turned into loud laughter from a number of jurors and audience members. This finally shook the posing girl back to reality so she could scamper to her seat.
In his closing argument, the state prosecutor tried to paint what happened to Rhea and Luissa as a grave injustice that was completely out of their control, but it was clear that his heart wasn't in it. Mr. Carey's attorney, on the other hand, was in fine form:
"Ladies and gentlemen, as you have seen, these two girls have a very obedient nature. They claim that they thought these episodes on the track were dreams, and yet their own descriptions make it clear that these dreams were nothing like their real dreams. These girls could have gone to the police with their accusations at any time, but they never did; not even once over the past three years. On top of this, they both admit to getting sexual enjoyment from their activities.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the acts you heard described may have been bizarre, but they were consensual. These girls have lived the lives they did of their own choosing. You may not agree with that lifestyle, but there was no crime committed here."
That night, Rhea sat on the edge of her bed with her head in her hands. The state prosecutor had promised her that if she testified, they would convict Paul Carey, and that the money the rich bastard would have to pay her would mean she wouldn't have to work another day in her life. But the jury hadn't convicted the fucker. In just twenty minutes of deliberation, they had found him not guilty.
The jury had written a statement that they read out loud in the court, scolding Rhea and Luissa for their perversions and for falsely accusing the defendant in a clear attempt to win a damages claim. They even recommended that Mr. Carey receive a payment from the girls for defamation of character. To Rhea's horror, the judge whole-heartedly agreed, and ruled that each girl must pay Mr. Carey a sum of $50,000, payable over 5 years.
Rhea was distraught. Her life was ruined. She had been forced by her 'dreams' to quit her accounting job two years before to become a stripper and a slut. That alone would probably make it hard to get her old job back. Now, the publicly available information on the court case would make it impossible to get that job or probably to get hired anywhere to do anything other than continue to sell her body for money.
And she was going to need money to pay that fine; otherwise she would be going to go to jail. She had almost no savings to start with. Her dreams had forced her to charge the minimum rate to her customers, which got her plenty of sex but didn't get her a lot of cash. And the cash she did get always had to be spent on fancy clothes, lingerie, manicures, teeth whitening, boob jobs and all the other things that her dreams demanded. She actually didn't want to give up all of those things, but knew she would have to. She would also have to work extra hard, if she was going to be able to pay $10,000 a year and still make ends meet.
It rankled her that these payments would be a massive hardship for her, but wouldn't even matter to the rich bastard she would be paying. It burned worse thinking about the fact that she would be paying him at all, knowing now that he was the one who had tormented her and forced her to become the slave and the slut that she now undeniably was. But the most infuriating thing of all was the fact that she had been so thoroughly duped. She had actually believed that it was her own self-conscious forcing her to do all those things, and therefore that there was no way out. How could she have been so gullible? As that asshole attorney had made clear, she had been free to go to the police at any time over the last three years. She could have prevented all of this if she hadn't been so stupid.
Rhea rubbed her neck as she sat there trying to think what to do, and she came across the tiny lump that was apparently the device that could knock her out. Jeeesus, she still had it in! She had been told to keep it during the trial, that it would be very dangerous to try to remove herself, and that the payment she was supposed to be getting would cover the cost of having it surgically removed.
Now she was going to have to find the money to pay for that herself. In the meantime, she still had a remote on/off switch built into her neck! Paul had been locked up during the trial, because the police had thought there was such a strong case against him and because he posed such a clear threat. But now he was out, so...
...Rhea came-to in a kneeling position on the floor of the underground track, as she had so many times before. She was naked save for her high heeled boots, butt plug, vibrator, corset, arm binder, collar and blinders. This was all normal, but there were some differences. She wasn't hooked to a cart or locked to a hitching post, and she didn't have any kind of gag in her mouth. But there was something else, something more important... it hit her that her vision wasn't at all foggy and she was able to think clearly. Paul must not have used that drug that the prosecutor said he had been giving her to make her episodes seem more dream-like.
This realization, however, didn't do Rhea any good. She couldn't use her clear thoughts to magically remove her armbinder or wake herself up to get back to her bedroom. It took some effort to force herself to get up and look around, which went against the training that had been so thoroughly drilled into her. She appeared to be alone in the track, though it was hard to confirm that with the blinders cutting off so much of her vision. It seemed like someone could be ducking just out of her field of view even when she spun around.
She headed for the first door she saw, only to find that the doorknob was set back inside a small hole in the door. There was no way she could reach it with the armbinder on, and certainly no way she could turn the knob even if it was unlocked. She only found one other door, and it had a similar handle.
As she was trying hopelessly to jam her sheathed hands into the hole, she heard the voice of her master give the command: "Kneel."
Instinct kicked in, and she was on her knees with her face pressed to the floor before she could stop herself. She fought to get control of her own body, telling herself that this wasn't a dream and that she shouldn't be a slave. After a moment stuck on the floor, she was able to get up and faced her captor directly for the first time. It was indeed Paul Carey, the man she had been glaring at in the courtroom. He was wearing the black gloves and boots that she had caught glimpses of over the years. He was looking at her and smiling.
Rhea had to fight her ingrained submissiveness to shout: "Release me at once or I'll press charges!"
Paul only chuckled and patted her on the head. "We all know how well that works for you, dear."
Anger was finally taking over. Rhea tried to kick out at her captor, but though she was quite used to the high heeled boots, her outfit really wasn't made for fighting. Paul took a small step back, and she ended up sprawled painfully on the floor. Her next thought was to run, but even as she turned to flee she knew how ridiculous the attempt was. She was bound and locked in this basement, and anyway, she had a knockout switch in her head that Paul could use at any time.
Paul's voice was easy to hear even from the other side of the track: "Come now, my pet, I have an offer for you that you'll want to hear. When you're ready, just put your nose ring through this hook over here and I'll come back."
Rhea watched him open one of the doors and leave. She ran over to try to get the door before it closed, but was too late. It didn't look or sound like Paul had unlocked the door to leave or locked it after him, but there was still no way for her to reach the handle. She screamed for him to come back or for someone to let her out, but she didn't have much hope of anyone else hearing her.
Rhea paced the track a couple times to try to gather her thoughts, but realized just how ridiculous it was to be willingly walking around this track. Finally, she went to find the hook that Paul had mentioned. She found it hanging on a cord from the ceiling at about eye level. It would force her to stand very tall and stay right in that spot. She imagined willingly putting herself in that position. It was the kind of thing she would have quickly done in her 'dreams', but it was different knowing that this was real and that she should be free!
Rhea finally convinced herself that waiting was foolish. She was already trapped and at Paul's mercy, so she might as well hear what he had to say. She walked up to the hook, stood as tall as she possibly could, and was barely able to get her nose ring over it. As soon as she did, she saw that the hook closed down on itself, preventing her from getting back off. It also pulled upwards about an inch, making it impossible to hop up or move hardly at all.
After a few minutes of dangling alone, Rhea heard the door open and saw Paul stroll her way. "Let me off of here you bastard!"
"Ah ah ah," her captor chided, "be nice, or I'll command you to get on your knees. Do you think you'd be able to stop yourself before ripping that ring right out of your nose? And can you imagine my attorney questioning you about that in court? 'So you hooked yourself up there and then knelt down, just because he told you too?' Anyway, listen up, you'll want to consider the offer I'm going to make."
Rhea glared down her nose, but knew she'd better just listen. Paul patted her head and told her she was a good girl, then hefted her boobs and launched in to his speech:
"I've come to enjoy you quite a bit these last few years, and I'd be truly sorry to see you go. I also know that you're in a rather large bind financially, between the money you owe me and the difficulty you're going to have finding normal employment. So, I'm going to propose a deal that will get both of us what we want.
"You will agree to be my slave for the next 5 years. You will sign a document that states that you are willingly submitting to any painful or humiliating activities that I force you to do and you completely waive any rights you have to press charges against me for anything I do to you. In return, I will waive the annual payments that you owe me and provide you with room and board. At the end of five years, if you wish to leave my service, you will be given a sum of $50,000 with which to start a new life."
Paul had continued stroking Rhea's body as he talked. When he finished, his right hand was pressed firmly over the vibrator that was buried in her pussy. He flipped a switch to turn that vibrator on and off. "Don't give me an answer right now, dear. If you'd like to accept, then come to my attorney's office at 9AM tomorrow morning. Oh, and when you're ready to leave here for the night, just give me twenty prancing laps around the track."
Paul strolled out again, and in a few moments Rhea was released from the hook. She didn't want to even think about the decision right then, she just wanted to get home, so she went ahead and pranced the twenty laps, feeling like an idiot in the empty track...
...Rhea woke up on her bed and glanced at her clock to see that it was the middle of the night. For the first time, she knew that her memories of the track had been real. That bastard had just come in here and kidnapped her, stripped her naked, abused her, then brought her back. It was an experience she was intimately used to, but she'd never known the truth. It might have been just moments ago that Paul or some agent of his had been right here in her room, dropping her naked and unconscious body back onto her bed.
Fucking creepy! In any sane world, she should be able to have that guy arrested and thrown in jail for a long long time. Somehow, though, all sanity had been lost. Instead of sending him to jail, she was strongly considering signing her next five years away to him. What choice did she have? She could keep whoring herself for the next five years, sending him every extra dollar she earned. She'd be his slave anyway, and after five years she'd be basically no better off than she was right then. And if she didn't pay, she'd be a prisoner in jail for the next five years, and again not be any better once it was done. It looked like she was going to be a slave for the next half decade no matter what, so she might as well leave herself in the best position at the end of those years, which was clearly the fifty grand that Paul had offered.
Rhea had massive second thoughts in the morning, but forced herself to get in her car and drive towards the attorney. Was she really going to sign herself up for five more years of the treatment she'd been getting in her 'dreams' for the last three years? It had been horribly painful and humiliating, but also... she thought about Paul vibrating her pussy just before he left last night. Certainly he was reminding her that there was some pleasure to be had, pleasure that she wouldn't get in jail and probably better than what she'd get as a whore. She hated herself for taking that into account, but really, she knew that she didn't have any choice.
Everything in the attorney's office was handled professionally, which was insane given the nature of the contract they were signing. The attorney went over every page and made sure Rhea knew exactly what she was getting herself into. Paul signed and committed to his part of the bargain first, then Rhea took a deep breath and signed herself away.
As soon as she did, the attorney's professional manner disappeared. He clapped Paul on the shoulder and stared hard at Rhea's tits. "Paul, I never figured you'd actually get to keep either one of them, let alone both! I think I'd like to take my second installment payment on this one right now."
"Sure thing Fred," Paul replied. "Pet, please strip and bend over that desk so my attorney can fuck you up the ass."
Rhea backed towards the door. Right off the bat this was more awful than she had imagined. Paul just laughed and said "Oh you can try to run away if you want, but you won't get very far with that knock-out pill in your neck, and if you are disobedient right now, then you know the punishment you're going to get for it later."
Rhea's mind was spinning. She hadn't had a punishment dream in ages, but the memory of them was as strong as ever in her mind. And if she got one now, there wouldn't be any dream drug to numb the memory. She knew she shouldn't be shy about getting fucked, after she'd been working as a whore for so long, but this was different. She was in a professional place, with someone who shouldn't want this of her. And she would be doing it as a slave, with no payment afterwards and no ability to set any limits. She had figured that she'd be doing all her slave'ing in private, like she had in her dreams. Had she made a big mistake?
Soon enough, the memory of the punishments won out, and she started stripping, embarrassed that the underwear she had on was so skimpy (it was the only kind she'd been allowed to buy for the last few years.) The attorney started smacking her ass like a pro as soon as she was naked and bent over his desk. With that, Rhea's slave training kicked in, and she started thanking him and begging for more.
The attorney was happy to give her more, and turned her ass a deep red before plunging his cock inside. As he slammed his member mercilessly in and out of her rear hole, he grabbed her head and yanked her chest up off the desk. His other hand reached around her and looped both nipple rings with his thumb and pinky, allowing him to pull her boobs together and yank them around as he continued to pound her. Rhea's arms had always been bound in her 'dreams,' so with her hands free now she reflexively grabbed at her breasts to try to limit the tugging.
"Paul, this bitch is trying to interfere, could you hold her?"
Paul walked to the other side of the desk and pulled Rhea's hands firmly away from her nipples so the attorney could continue without interference. "I'm going to have to punish you later for the disobedience," Paul told her.
Even through the pain of the spanking and nipple tugging, Rhea knew that the punishment Paul had in mind would be infinitely worse. She begged for lenience, but Paul only shook his head sadly: "It seems like you've forgotten a lot in the last month. A slave must never ask to avoid punishment. Your punishment will be increased for that. You'll need every bit of the pain to help get you back on track as a slave. Now clasp your arms behind your back and take the rest of what our nice attorney has to give you."
After the attorney had his fill, Rhea lay panting on his desk, her arms still clasped behind her back and her legs still spread wide, thinking with dread about the punishment she had coming. "My God," she thought, "it's going to be like this for the next five years. Am I even going to remember how to live a normal life by then?"
Paul had opened a rolling suitcase and instructed Rhea to get in so he could transport her back to the track for her punishment. She didn't think it was possible that she could fit in such a small bag, but Paul just laughed at her quizzical expression. "Oh honey, you'll definitely fit. You've been in that bag literally hundreds of times!"
Rhea looked down at the suitcase. Hundreds of times! This was the thing Paul had used to take her out of her house and bring her back most every night for the last three years. She had never even seen it before. Rhea felt as though the horror of her dream life was crashing in to what remained of her normal life. She knew that if she got into that bag, then what remained of normality would be gone and her life would be all slavedom for the next half decade. She also knew that she didn't have a choice, but she just couldn't force herself to take that step, and so she ran. She got to the door of the office and started to turn the knob...
...and woke up in an extremely cramped fetal position in total darkness. Some kind of inflatable gag filled every corner of her mouth, leaving her barely able to make a sound. She tried to squirm, but had no room to budge. A crack of light opened above her and her head was yanked up by her hair. She looked down and saw that her head was sticking up out of a small slit that had been opened in the roller suitcase. The rest of her body was still thoroughly trapped inside. She expected to see the underground track, or maybe some other part of Paul's estate, but was surprised to see that she was still in the attorney's office.
Paul cupped her chin in his hand and said "I wanted you to be awake while I brought you home this time. It will give you time to think about how bad your punishment will be for interfering with getting fucked, talking back, and trying to run away. With all that, it's a good thing I don't have to worry about getting you back to your bed by morning! That's one limitation that I'm quite glad is gone. Yes, you and your old friend are going to have an interesting first week or so, but I'm confident that you'll get back in to the swing of it pretty quickly."
When Paul mentioned "her old friend" he had nodded his head towards the opposite wall where Rhea saw a suitcase identical to the one that she was in. It was clearly full Luissa had been there the whole time! As Rhea's head was shoved back down and sealed into darkness, she was unreasonably angry at her friend. As she felt the bag she was in start to be rolled away, she thought: "That bitch could have tried to shake her bag or something to stop me from signing my life away! But no, now we're both off to hell."
Rhea's anger didn't really make any sense. She would have signed that contract even if Luissa had screamed at her not to. And even if she hadn't signed, could she really have escaped the maniacal and powerful genius who had captured her? He had already demonstrated that he could do anything he wanted to her and still beat her in a court case. He owned her. The contract just made it official. He had owned her for years, ever since that knock-out device had first been implanted in her neck.
5 Years Later
Rhea was happy to be sent off the estate to run an errand. She'd only been allowed to leave a handful of times over the last five years, and it sure beat licking the floor of the grand ball room clean, or running endless training laps around the track, or being the fuck toy to any number of people at the house who had full access to her body.
The errand she was on sounded particularly fun. She was just supposed to go to Club Yulo and dance up a storm. Of course she was wearing a small earpiece that allowed her master to communicate with her, so she wasn't surprised when an additional command came in: walk up to the cute red-head at the bar and offer her a neck message. It was an odd command, but after nearly eight years of slavedom, Rhea no longer questioned the things she was ordered to do. She simply obeyed.
Rhea felt a strange sense of de-ja-vu as she rubbed the red-head's neck, but she couldn't quite place it. Another command came in: "Cup the girl's neck with your left hand and firmly press your new ring just to the left of her spine."
Rhea obeyed automatically and instantly. The ring she had been given earlier that day had a sharp point on the opposite side from its stone. Rhea had thought that was odd, but of course didn't question it. As that sharp point pressed into the red-head's neck it made a little clicking sound. The girl gave out a surprised little yell and Rhea finally remembered why this all seemed familiar.
Rhea had been to club Yulo before, just before her 'dreams' had started, and she had gotten a message from some random woman. That massage had also ended in a sharp little prick to her neck. It all clicked for Rhea the little prick she had gotten all those years ago had been no more accidental than the little prick she had just given this red-head. That's how the knock-out device had first been implanted in her neck! And... shit, she had just implanted one of those devices in the red-head. She had just doomed this cute nice-looking girl to a life of slavery!
Rhea began apologizing profusely. The red-head waived it off, saying that the little prick hadn't hurt that much and not to worry about it. But of course Rhea did worry about it, and of course she couldn't tell this girl why. She just apologized over and over, wishing there was something else she could do. But all she could do was watch the girl take her drink and walk back over to her friends friends that she would almost certainly lose as she fell down the same rabbit hole that Rhea had been tumbling down ever since her own neck had been pricked.
Watching the girl walk away, Rhea acknowledged that her master had picked a hottie: tight little ass that swayed under her skirt, long toned legs that looked great in heals, an appealing hourglass shape, and that gorgeous red hair that fell in curls halfway down her back. And she was young. Maybe about eight years younger than Rhea. The significance wasn't lost on the older slave. The cycle would continue, but maybe her role in it was finally coming to an end.