The Mayor's Daughter
  • Author - Erica
  • Rating -   
  • Site Rank - 38 of 2955
  • Story Codes - M-f, non-consensual, bondage, breathplay, electricity, extreme, humiliation, kidnapping, slavery, suspension, torture, violent
  • Post Date - 6/23/2007

Author's Note: Before getting to the story, I wanted to right a brief intro for anyone who chooses to read it. First of all, I’d like to thank you for taking the time to check out my work. Secondly, I wanted to give you an idea of what you can expect, since it is quite a commitment to make it all the way through, as those of you who read my first story now surely know. That first story, ‘Erica’s Capture’, got some mixed reviews, primarily because we all have different things that we look for in our kink, and some people would have preferred to have it go in a different direction than it did. I thought I’d take a minute to give readers an idea of what they can expect here, in order to avoid disappointment. This will be the story of the abduction of a young girl, and the gradual breaking of her will. It will involve continual restraint and confinement that starts fairly mildly and gradually grows more and more restrictive as she is trained and broken. There will not be a turning of the tables in this story, and our young captive has little or no chance of escape or rescue. If you’re looking for a story with a more positive potential ending, you should check out ‘Erica’s Capture’ if you haven’t already. In short, I will attempt to chronicle the creation of a slave from unwilling cloth (constrained by my limited writing ability and as filtered through my own fantasies and imagination), and I hope that you enjoy the ride.

Chapter One – The Traffic Stop

Jessica swore and moved her sandaled foot from accelerator to brake as the telltale blue and white flashing lights appeared in her rear view mirror. She was already running late, and knew that this would set her even further behind. She paused to fix her hair a little in the mirror and practice her most innocent expression as her tires rolled to a stop on the shoulder of the road. She saw the cruiser come to a halt behind her, and watched its door open as she put her car into park and turned off the engine. A tall officer, dressed in the distinctive uniform of the highway patrol, stepped from the car and approached the driver’s door. She rolled down the window as he reached her.

“License and registration, ma’am.” He spoke brusquely, and she hastened to gather them from the glove box and her purse.

“Here you go, sir.” She smiled up at him as she handed him the requested documents, her eyes wide and innocent, tucking a strand of blond hair back behind her ear.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?” The officer asked, his cold grey eyes meeting hers unblinkingly.

“I guess I was speeding?”

“You guess right.”

“I’m sorry.” She pouted slightly as she spoke, trying her best to get herself out of yet another ticket that her father would not want to pay. “I’m just on my way to meet some friends for my birthday, and I was a little excited.”

“I see. Turning nineteen today it says here.” The officer’s stony features revealed the small hint of a smile. “Any big plans?”

“Oh, not much, really.” She smiled up at him. “My dad rented out the hall at the Sheraton for me and some friends.”

“Oh, right.” The officer’s eyes narrowed a bit in recognition. “You’re Jessica Miller; the mayor’s daughter.”

“Yeah, that’s me.” She responded, still smiling, and hoping that this last piece of information would get her off the hook.

“Well, you wait right here, Ms. Miller, and I’ll get you on your way just as fast as I can.” He gave her a wink as he turned and walked back to his waiting cruiser.

As she watched him go in the side mirror, Jessica gave herself about fifty-fifty odds of getting away without a ticket. She’d have preferred that he just let her go with a verbal warning, but there was still a chance that he would return with nothing more stern than a written one. Unfortunately, going back to his car probably meant that he was going to pull her driving record and see her history of tickets, which did nothing to help her chances. After a seeming eternity, the cruiser door opened again and the officer returned to her open window.

“Ms. Miller, please step out of the car.” His voice was stern, and she saw that his hand hovered close to his holstered pistol when she looked up in surprise.

“Wh-what?” She stammered. “Why?”

“Place your hands on the steering wheel.” He ordered, and she quickly obeyed, grabbing it at ten and two. “I am going to open your door, and you will step from the car, keeping your hands where I can see them. Do you understand?”


Jessica’s mind reeled at the sudden shift in the situation. What was going on? When the door opened, she swung her bare, tanned legs out of the car and rose to her feet, keeping her hands raised and resisting the urge to reach down and adjust the hem of her short, faded denim skirt. With a strong hand on her shoulder, he turned her to face the car as he closed the door.

“Place your hands on the roof of the car, and spread your legs.” He ordered.

She followed his commands, ‘assuming the position’ as she’d heard it called in movies and on television cop shows. It was a very different feeling to experience in person, she quickly discovered. Little pebbles of gravel slipped between the soles of her feet and the thin, flat sandals as she slid them out across the ground, and her short skirt rose, baring more of her thighs than she spread them. It was a terribly vulnerable feeling; being treated like a criminal and not knowing why. Her heart pounded in her chest in growing fear of what was coming. Was she going to be arrested?

“Ms. Miller, are you aware that there is an active warrant for your arrest?” The policeman asked calmly behind her.

“A warrant?” She asked quickly, in disbelief. “For what? There must be some sort of mistake.”

“For attempted armed robbery.”

“What? Me?”

“I’ll admit that it sounds a little surprising to me, too, Ms. Miller, but until I can look into it further, I have no choice but to take it seriously. Very seriously. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, sure, I guess.” She answered quickly, finding herself grateful that the warrant wasn’t for something legitimate, like the unpaid parking tickets that cluttered up her glove box.

“Have you ever been arrested before, Ms. Miller?”

“No.” She replied. “But please, you don’t have to arrest me. I mean, come on, I’m not a robber. Can’t you just call my dad?”

“Are you carrying any weapons, Ms. Miller?” He asked sternly, ignoring her question.

“No, I’m not carrying any weapons.” She laughed, the situation taking on an absurd quality as she stood there before him.

“I told you that this is serious, Ms. Miller. I’m going to pat you down now.”

She winced as he ran his hands over her. Her feet shifted nervously in the gravel as his palms grazed across her breasts through the thin white material of her shirt. His fingers played across her belly. She felt her cheeks blushing slightly as his hands seemed to linger on her hips before moving down across the soft denim of her skirt. She gasped as his right hand slipped up under the its hem to search the bare flesh of her inner thighs. She was grateful when he finally removed his hand, and pressed her lips together as he ran his palms down her legs. The caress of his hands to the bare skin of her legs infuriated her, and she couldn’t help but think that he was taking advantage of an opportunity to just ‘cop a feel.’ She couldn’t imagine that he sincerely thought that she was hiding a weapon underneath the sandal straps that were wrapped around her calves and tied in place. When this mess was squared away, she would definitely let her father know about this.

Finished with his ‘search,’ he stepped in close to her and reached to the roof of the car to take hold of her right wrist. She didn’t resist as he turned it, bending her arm at the elbow to place her hand behind her back. She trembled slightly as she heard a ratcheting sound and then felt the cold steel of the cuff close tightly in place around the slender flesh of her wrist.

“Please, do you have to do this?” She asked, but did not resist as he drew her other arm back behind her and closed the second cuff tightly in place on it. “I’m not going to do anything.”

“Sorry, Ms. Miller, but it’s procedure.” He answered grimly, taking hold of her bare upper arm and leading her back to his car. “I can’t put you in the car unless you’re restrained.”

Jessica walked at his direction back to the patrol car. She clasped her hands together tightly behind her back, the sound of the clinking chains sending a shudder down her spine. Watching the road, she was grateful that no one drove by to see her being taken into custody. At the waiting police car, he opened the back door and helped her to sit down inside, his hand on the back of her head to maneuver it without hitting the roofline. The seat was made of hard, formed plastic and was cool against the bare backs of her thighs. The cuffs were uncomfortable, biting into her tender wrists, and she was grateful for the cutout in the seatback behind her where they could rest without her weight pressing against them. She was surprised to see the policeman squat down next to her before closing the door, another pair of cuffs in his hands.

“Wh-what… what are you doing?” She whimpered as she saw him reach for her left ankle, her voice seeming somehow small to her. “What are those for?”

“I told you.” He spoke softly as he got a firm grip on her calf above the ankle and placed the open hasp of the cuff against it. “You have to be restrained.”

“But my feet?” She whimpered as he closed the cuff in place on her, struggling to blink back tears as the situation worsened. “I’m not going to run away.”

“You’re not now, are you?” He looked up at her as he closed the other cuff in place on her right ankle.

With the cuffs locked on her feet, he stood up again. Reaching down, he placed his hand on her shoulder for a moment, giving it a squeeze that somehow felt anything but reassuring. And then the door closed ominously, and she was alone in the back seat. She pulled at the cuffs on her ankles, looking down in disbelief at the confining anklets and the chain between them. Her festive sandals and toenails, painted a pale pink, seemed starkly out of place with these new additions.

She watched him go back to her car, the view obscured some by the mesh of the cage that separated her from the front seat of the cruiser. He spent a few moments inside it before closing it up, locking it with its keyless remote, and then walking back to the patrol car, carrying her purse. She pressed her thighs together as she sat impatiently in the mobile cell that was the back seat of his car. He entered the front seat of the patrol car without a word, placing her belongings on the seat next to him.

“How long will it take to get things straightened out?” She asked, looking at the officer’s face in the rear view mirror as he put the car in gear.

“To get what straightened out, princess?”

“The warrant mistake.” She responded icily. “And please don’t call me that.”

“You don’t like being called princess?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“That’s none of your business.” She snapped, twisting her wrists in the cuffs behind her back in frustration. “Now, how long is it going to take to get this warrant thing fixed, and get me out of here?”

“There are a few complications with that, princess.”

“I asked you not to call me that.” She hissed angrily. “And what do you mean by complications.”

“Well, for starters, there is no warrant.”

“Wh-what? What do you mean?” A chill ran down her spine as she asked the question.

“I’m afraid that I made that part up.”

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” She demanded, suddenly realizing what might be going on, as hope began to peak through into her mind. “Did my father set this up? Is this some kind of screwy birthday gag?”

“Do you think your daddy would have had someone feel up his little princess as a birthday gag?” He asked cruelly, looking back into her eyes in the mirror.

“Then what… then what…” Jessica tried to ask the question, but was finally overcome by tears, her voice breaking as they began to stream down her cheeks.

“I’m afraid that you’re being kidnapped, princess. And I’m going to hold onto you until I can get what I want from your precious daddy.”

“But you… you’re a policeman… they’ll know you pulled me over. They’ll question you.”

“Nobody knows I pulled you over, princess.” He laughed. “I didn’t call it in, because I knew exactly who I was pulling over. I never ran your license. This traffic stop never happened, as far as the rest of the world is concerned.”

“But… but they’ll find my car.”

“Yes, they will. But that’s all they’ll find.”

“Help me!” She screamed, kicking at the door of the car, tears streaming down her cheeks as she cried out hysterically. “Someone please help me!”

“A shame you picked such a lonely road to drive down, isn’t it?” He asked cruelly as her hysterics gave way to muted sobbing. “When I was dreaming up this plan, I was worried that someone might see you in the back seat and recognize you. I can’t tell you how happy I was when you turned down this old road.”

“So what now?” She asked as she sniffed back more tears, gaining some semblance of control over herself again. “You just keep me out of the way until my father pays you?”

“That’s pretty much it.”

“And where are you going to keep me?” She pulled desperately at the cuffs on her wrists, trying to squeeze her hands out of them while she talked, but finding them too tight, the effort only serving to chafe her tender flesh.

“I’ve got a very special place in mind, princess.”

“You can’t get away with this, you know.” She whimpered as hot new tears stung her eyes. “Kidnappers never get their money. Please, just let me go. I swear I’ll just pretend it never happened.”

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” He laughed. “I know exactly what I’m doing, and I’m going to get exactly what I want.”

She looked away from the steely glint in his eyes, scanning the road for sign of any other travelers, but it remained empty. After a few twists and turns, he slowed and turned off the road onto an old dirt track that was almost entirely overgrown. The car, obviously designed for smoother terrain, bounced and jostled through the deep holes in the road, and she heard it bottom out a few times. She slid on the smooth seat, unable to do much to stop herself until her body thrust against the door, and she managed to turn herself enough to get a hold on the armrest.

After what felt like an eternity on the bumpy road, they reached a clearing next to a swiftly flowing river. Built next to the river was an old gristmill. The headlights of the car glinted off the water that was still scooped up and carried by the ponderous wooden wheel as it turned in the river. The building itself looked old and worn, though still supported itself admirably.

“My family’s owned this old mill for over a century. My dad actually worked for my grandpa in it when he was a little tyke, though it’s been decades since it’s seen any real use.” He told her, sounding almost wistful. “This mill supported our family for a long time, princess, though it’s never made the sort of money it’s going to produce through you.”

“I bet your grandpa would be really proud of you right now.” Jessica hissed.

“My grandpa died penniless in a nursing home.” He responded, putting the car into park and killing the engine in front of the old mill. “I intend to do no such thing.”

When he exited the car and moved toward the door against which she rested, Jessica frantically moved away from it, pushing herself across the smooth seat to the other door. Like the other door, it had no handles with which she could open it. Pressing her back to the door, she looked about frantically, feeling like a trapped animal as he opened the door across from her and began to reach into the car. She kicked out at him, sandaled feet forced to kick in unison by the chain that locked them together. He laughed as he easily deflected the blow, grabbing her right ankle firmly.

“No! Stop it! Let me go!” Jessica screamed as he yanked her from the car by her ankle.

“We can do this the hard way, if that’s how you like it.” He chortled as she slid easily across the smooth seat to hit the dirt driveway with a thud, landing painfully on her cuffed wrists. “Because that’s definitely how I like it.”

She screamed out in pain and frustration as he dragged her across the hard ground toward the door of the old mill. Rocks and roots bit into the flesh of her back and ass as her shirt and skirt rode up under the rough treatment. Twisting onto her side, she tried desperately to find something to grab with her cuffed hands, but could find no purchase. As they approached the door, she was grateful that the terrain beneath her turned from the dirt of the track to softer grass, though it did nothing to help the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Help me! Somebody please help me!” She screamed when they reached the door, hot tears stinging her eyes.

“Shut up, you stupid little bitch.” He ordered, kicking her hard in the stomach.

Jessica curled into the fetal position as his booted foot hit her hard in the midsection, the air exploding from her lungs. Gasping for breath, she struggled to rise up onto her knees as she watched through bleary, tear-filled eyes as he worked a key in the old lock. As she reached her knees, the door creaked open and he grabbed her hair, his fingers twining themselves in her shoulder-length tresses. She cried out as he pulled her the rest of the way onto her feet, yanking painfully at her scalp and dragging her with him into the dark interior of the mill.

In the darkness of the old building, he threw her forward and she cried out as she was tripped up by the cuffs on her feet, falling to her side on the hard floor. Turning quickly onto her back to look up at him, she saw his silhouette framed in the doorway for only a moment before it closed, blinding her in the seemingly complete darkness of the mill.

“You’ll notice I made a few updates to the old place.” He spoke softly, his voice almost a growl as he flipped on a light switch.

Blinking as the overhead lights came on, Jessica was surprised and horrified by the stark differences in appearance between the interior and exterior of the mill. Inside, the walls were covered by drywall painted black, the floors smooth concrete. The finished nature of the place made her realize that this abduction was not a spur of the moment decision for her kidnapper. She shuddered at the thought of how long he had planned this, and what terrors he might have in store for her. Sitting up with some difficulty, she drew her legs up in front of her, thighs pressed together.

“I am sorry, though, princess. Despite my best efforts, it’s definitely not the Sheraton ballroom.” He grinned down at her, and she inched away slowly as he took a step toward her. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a birthday celebration planned for you.”

“Birthday celebration?” She asked fearfully, looking around the room as he approached, trying to get her bearings.

It appeared to be all one big room, with the inside looking nearly as large as she had seen from the outside. From her angle on the floor, she couldn’t see its contents especially well, but she could see that one section of the room seemed to be set up as a photography studio of some kind, with large arrays of lights arranged in it. Elsewhere in the room, she could see a number of trunks, a plain metal cot with a rusted metal bucket next to it, what appeared to be a washtub on wheels, and other bizarre pieces of furniture made from rough wood or metal pipes. Along the wall that was next to the river, she could see large wooden cogs that turned slowly, a couple of them, un-turning, set into the floor.

“Oh yes indeed, princess. We’re going to have our own private birthday celebration.” He reached her, standing above her with his hands on his hips and drawing her attention away from the rest of the room. “You see, I need some pictures to send your dear old daddy to help motivate him to give me what I want, so I’ve got quite a party in store for you.”

“Please, you don’t have to do anything.” Jessica whine softly, her lower lip trembling as she looked up at the uniformed officer above her. “He’ll do… he’ll give you whatever you want… just don’t hurt me.”

Reaching down, he took hold of her upper arm and drew her up onto her feet. She bit her trembling lower lip as she looked into his eyes while he helped her to stand again. She opened her mouth to speak but a helpless sobbing overcame her as he began to lead her across the room toward the area set up as a photo studio. He walked slowly with her, seemingly conscious of the difficulties she would have walking with the tight cuffs in place on her ankles. Her chest heaved as she cried uncontrollably, tears spilling down her cheeks and onto her breasts as they strained against the tight fabric of her top.

“P-please…” She finally managed to croak as they reached the studio area and he stopped her, standing over a ring that was set in the floor, to which one end of a pair of handcuffs was already attached, the other cuff standing open menacingly. “Don’t… don’t do this…”

She watched him squat down next to her, one hand on her left calf, caressing it almost gently as he held her in place. She sobbed, feeling a nervous, fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach as he used the other hand to close the free end of the waiting cuff around her ankle beneath the other she already wore. A shiver ran down her spine as the hand on her calf moved up to the smooth front of her thigh, and then his free hand pressed insistently against the back of her knee, easily forcing her forward and into a kneeling position on the hard floor. Sitting back on her heels as he rose to his feet, her hands moved instinctively to the new cuff, searching it desperately, clawing at it and pulling on it, but finding no release.

“I can’t help but remember your mentioning that kidnappers never get the money that they’re after.” Jessica’s captor spoke casually, moving between and adjusting the various cameras that were set up facing where she kneeled from numerous angles. “And I have to admit that you’re right. Usually they don’t.”

“My father will pay you. Please, he’ll pay you whatever you want. Just don’t hurt me.”

“Actually, that’s where you’re wrong, I think.” He continued speaking as he began to turn on the heavy duty lights above her, washing her in their brightness. “You see, usually kidnappers either don’t do enough to convince the abductees’ loved ones that their precious little one is genuinely in danger, or they do too much.”

“He’ll believe you.” Jessica whined, feeling utterly helpless as she knelt before him, the cuffs on her ankles pressing against her ass through her skirt. “He’ll do anything you want.”

“If your father doesn’t get some proof that you’re in a bad, bad place, there’s a part of him that will wonder if it’s not a scheme you’ve cooked up to get at some of his money. It happens all the time to wealthy, unsuspecting parents, and he won’t want to look the fool if you’re playing him. That doubt might make him take chances that he wouldn’t otherwise risk.”

“He knows… he knows I’d never do that to him.”

“Of course he does.” He winked as he snapped off a couple pictures with one of the cameras. “Unless, of course, he remembers the time that he reported his car stolen only to find out that you’d taken it and run it into a tree, right? Or the time that you told him that you’d been robbed of your freshmen tuition deposit and only admitted that you’d spent it yourself after he’d filed a police report.”

“But that was a long time ago, and it was nothing like this.” She whimpered, his knowledge of her prior bad acts making her feel equally as exposed as the combination of short skirt and handcuffs.

“You see, I need to send him some proof that will erase any doubt in his mind that this is another of your little schemes, but without going too far and turning you into ‘damaged goods.’” He spoke calmly as he continued to adjust the cameras, reaching the end of the line. “I had originally considered mailing him one of your fingers, but I’ve ruled that out. It seems that daddy’s don’t like to think of their little girls mutilated, and sort of reach a place where they don’t really want them back if you go too far.”

Jessica lowered her head to try to hide the new tears that began to spill from her cheeks, mewling softly as she tried to turn on her knees out of the view of the cameras. Wherever she turned, though, she faced another of the array of lenses. Through her tear-blurred vision, she noticed that the cameras continued to take pictures at different intervals after he left them. She looked up to watch her captor walk away from his work at the cameras, opening a closet and then casually beginning to change his clothing.

“Let me go, God damn it!” She screamed, thrashing against her chains in newfound anger and frustration as she watched him casually change into a black turtleneck and jeans while the cameras continued their occasional flashing.

She fought desperately against the cuffs on her wrists, rubbing her chafed flesh against the metal in her struggles. Her hair was plastered to the sides of her face by her tears. Bending forward at the waist, feeling her short skirt ride up behind her as she tugged at the chains that held her, she sobbed as the cameras took in the picture of her misery, trying not to imagine what it would be like for her father to receive them.

She looked up again as she heard him rolling something toward her, and saw that he was pushing the white porcelain wheeled bathtub that she had seen earlier. Rising up on her knees more and shuffling around to face its approach, she could see that it was filled with water that occasionally sloshed up over the sides as he pushed, as well as a number of red and black objects that floated on its surface. He was wearing a black ski mask now in addition to the other black clothing, hiding his face from the cameras.

“I bet it’s been a long time since you’ve bobbed for apples, hasn’t it, princess?” He asked as he rolled the tub to a stop in front of her and she saw that the floating objects were red rubber balls with black leather straps dangling from their sides.

“Fuck you, you sick bastard.” She spat the words out like venom as he reached down and, once more, threaded his fingers through her blond hair.

Without warning, he thrust her head forward into the water, and she barely sucked in a quick breath before she was submerged. He pressed her down deep into the water, her face close to the bottom of the tub and her belly thrust hard against its rounded edge. She bucked against his grip as he held her under the water, but had neither the strength nor the leverage to break free of him. Her lungs burned for oxygen as she shuddered uncontrollably, her toes curling tight against the soles of her sandals as she struggled to remain conscious. Finally, the stale air burst from her lungs, surrounding her head in a halo of bubbles as she gasped reflexively, taking in a breath of water.

She coughed, her body spasming to expel the liquid breath as he yanked her back up and out of the water. The air flooded into her burning lungs as it replaced the water she coughed up, heaving and shuddering as he held her up on her knees.

“Looks like you didn’t get one that time.” He chuckled. “We’ll have to keep going in until you do.”

“Please don’t- ” She began, but was cut off as he thrust her back down into the water, one of the floating balls hitting her in the face on her way back to the bottom of the basin.

Thrashing against his grip, she could see that the balls were all floating near the surface. If the sick bastard was going to keep dunking her like this until she got one, she would have to snatch one on the way down and she realized how hard that was going to be. The thought left her mind in an instant, however, and she gasped in surprise as she suddenly felt her captor’s finger slide along the lips of her pussy through the sheer material of her panties. Bent forward as she was, her skirt had ridden up and exposed her further to him, and the gasp resulted in another breath of water and she choked on it as he pulled her back up out of the water.

“God, but you are a sexy little thing, aren’t you?” He hissed in her ear while she struggled to recover from her choking, his hand gripping her ass firmly through the skirt as it settled back into place. “I am going to have a lot of fun with this little body of yours.”

“Oh god… Oh god…” Jessica whimpered as her breath returned to her, that slight touch of his finger and his new words transforming what had already been a horrific situation into something much, much worse. “Please don’t… no more, please.”

Feeling his hand clench in her hair again, Jessica looked quickly to the pool as he thrust her head forward again. This time, she avoided the urge to take a breath, instead focusing on biting down on anything that got close enough to her mouth. She came close as one of the straps grazed her cheek as she burst by it, but her teeth came together hard with nothing but water between them. She mewled beneath the water as he held her in place, her lungs woefully under-filled with air. His hand roamed again as she trembled, sliding along the inside of her left thigh. She pressed her legs together, trapping the hand in place between them. As the outside edges of her vision began to fade and her lungs burned for air, he pulled her back up to the surface, and she gasped for air, dragging it into her lungs in deep gulps.

“I hope that I’m getting some good shots of this, because I think that your daddy will really find these moving.” He turned her to look into her eyes as she struggled to resume breathing normally, her chest heaving beneath her soaked top, the shape of her bra clearly outlined beneath the wet material. “I’d hate to have to do a re-shoot.”

With that, he turned her back to the tub and thrust her down again, this time directly toward one of the balls. She opened her mouth to bite it, but her teeth glanced off it, and they closed instead on the strap that dangled from its side. Held beneath the water’s surface, she clenched her jaw tightly shut, clinging to the thing as the taste of leather permeated the water in her mouth.

“Good girl.” He congratulated as he drew her finally back up out of the water, the strap and ball dangling from her mouth as she sucked in air through her nose. “But you bit the wrong part. I’m going to have to adjust that for you.”

Moving around behind her, he grabbed the ball and moved it up to her teeth as they clung desperately to the leather strap between them. She opened her mouth briefly to let the strap fall free, but then closed it again as he moved the ball in front of it.

“Would you like to go back in again for another one?” He asked, holding the ball before her lips. “We could keep going until you get one the right way, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

On the verge of tears, she shook her head quickly and opened her mouth for him. She was helpless to resist him right now, and she knew it. As much as she hated the thought of that thick ball in her mouth, she dreaded a return to the water of the tub even more. As he pressed the ball into place, however, she realized that it was worse than she had anticipated. The ball was not as soft as it appeared, and he pressed it in hard until it popped back behind her teeth. It felt like it filled her mouth, forcing her jaw to remain open uncomfortably wide. She felt him pull the straps back behind her head and over her wet hair, buckling it firmly in place.

“It’s time to get ready for the next party game, princess. I bet it’s been a long time since you played a round of pin the tail on the donkey.”

He gave her cheek a playful pat as he rose to his feet and began to roll the bathtub away. Kneeling on the cold floor, she trembled as she watched him return the tub to its original spot, and then stop to pick up a large bundle of rope. He tossed the rope to her, and she recoiled at its approach as if it were a serpent. Sliding across the floor, it came to a halt against the side of her calf. She grunted incoherently behind the gag in her mouth. Panting for breath through her nose, she shifted carefully to sit on her butt to relieve the pressure on the cuffs on her ankles. She pushed herself backwards, stretching out her legs but keeping them pressed firmly together, she did her best to draw the skirt back down into place.

“You know, I won’t claim that it’s all luck that I ended up with such a beautiful and delicious little kidnap victim.” Her captor spoke as he moved from camera to camera again, replacing the film in each as he went. “I might have still picked you if you were a more average specimen, though I might also have looked elsewhere for a more pleasing target.”

The thick rubber ball in her mouth was maddening, in some ways even more so than the restraints that imprisoned her wrists and ankles. Unable to close her mouth, her jaw stretched uncomfortably wide, she could feel drool already threatening to slip beyond the ball and past her lips. As she struggled to come to terms with this unwelcome intruder in her mouth, she saw her captor’s eyes return repeatedly to her body between adjustments to each camera. The hungry look in his eyes and the way that his gaze continued to drink in the sight of her tanned legs, her cuffed ankles, her feet in their sandals, and her drenched and slender waist and breasts told her that, regardless of what he might say, money was only part of his motivation. She was sickened by the way his eyes lingered on her, wishing that she had worn jeans or something else that would have protected more of her body from his lusty gaze.

“There. All set.” He smiled as he finished with the last camera and returned to her side carrying a small bag. “Ready for the next party game?”

Futilely, Jessica shook her head in response to his question as he knelt down beside her. With a hand between her breasts, he pushed her backwards, forcing her to lie down on the hard ground with the cuffs trapped beneath her. She was grateful when he turned her over to lie on her stomach, her breasts and left cheek pressed to the concrete. Her whole body shivering, a little from the chill of the near drowning but mostly from the icy terror that gripped her, she felt him straddle her, his knees on either side of her legs. She choked in revulsion behind the gag as she felt what could only be his hard cock against the back of her thigh through his jeans.

“I’m afraid that I forgot to pick up a donkey, princess.” He voice dripped with mock disappointment as he uncoiled the bundle of soft rope. “But I don’t think you’ll mind stepping in for the role, will you?”

Jessica grunted incoherently behind the gag as she felt him wrap a doubled-over strand of the rope around her neck. She squirmed helplessly beneath him as he drew the rope down her back and then began to wrap it around her upper arms, drawing them slowly together behind her. Her cheek resting in a puddle of her own drool, she screamed into the thick rubber in her mouth as he drew on the ropes until her elbows touched behind her back, pulling her shoulders uncomfortably backwards. He continued to move down her arms, gradually welding her forearms together with ever-tighter coils of the rope, pausing only for a moment to remove the cuffs from her wrists and drop them to the floor next to her. What should have been a moment of relief offered her none, as tight coils of rope replaced the relatively loose confinement of the handcuffs.

“Scoot back a bit, will you, princess?” He chuckled as he moved back to sit on the backs of her knees and then reached underneath her hips to pull her waist up off the floor. “Thanks, sweetness.”

Jessica’s stomach fluttered nervously as she felt him pull up on the lower hem of her top, baring her flat belly. She panted through her nose, drool sputtering from her mouth as she tried to plead with him behind the gag. She felt him wrap the end of the rope from her arms around her bare waist, pulling it tight until it dug into her smooth flesh. She grunted as he tied the ends rope in place around her stomach with a pair of final tugs. The ropes around her waist pinned her bound hands to the small of her back, and she sobbed helplessly, mewling behind the gag as despair filled her.

“Are you figuring it out yet, princess?” He asked, leaving the remaining ends of the rope to dangle on the ground in front of her as his hands moved over the sides of her hips. “Recognizing just how bad this is all going to be for you?”

The walls felt like they were closing in on her as his hands roamed over her hips and down her thighs while the cameras continued to snap more pictures of her torment. She felt small and powerless beneath him and in the firm grip of his ropes. It seemed like she couldn’t get enough air through her stuffy nose, sobbing and panting desperately as she squirmed in the tight ropes. Once more, she felt his hands slip beneath the hem of her skirt, lifting it up to expose the firm globes of her pantied ass.

“Yours is quite possibly the most luscious body that I have ever seen, princess.” He practically purred as he ran his hands over her bottom. “It seems like a shame to mar such a perfect ass, but hopefully there won’t be any permanent marks, and it’s for a good cause after all.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine and she bucked beneath him, yanking at the ropes that welded her arms together helplessly behind her. The cuffs on her ankles clinked noisily against the concrete floor as she kicked at them. She heard him unzip a bag and craned her neck to see him remove a heavy staple gun and a bundle of paper strips in the shape of donkey tails. Hot tears stung her eyes as she realized what was coming, and she squirmed beneath the weight of her captor as she felt a piece of the paper and then the tip of the staple gun press against her right ass cheek through the thin material of her panties.

“This is going to hurt a lot, I would imagine.” He chuckled.

Jessica screamed as he pulled the trigger and the cruel staple bit into the tender flesh of her ass. She yanked at the ropes on her arms and tried to twist free as the little piece of metal stung her like a wasp. She panted, whimpering behind the ballgag as she felt him line up the gun against her other asscheek, and then cried out as it fired again. It was painful, but made worse by the humiliation that accompanied it and her complete inability to stop it. Tears streamed from her eyes, mingling with the pool of drool that was collecting on the floor against her cheek, and she bucked as a third staple drove into the tender flesh of her ass.

Laughing, he slipped from her back and she quickly rolled over onto her side as he knelt next to her. She wanted to yank the wicked staples from her ass, but the ropes on her forearms and waist kept her from being able to reach. Trembling, she looked up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes as he reached down to unlock the cuff from her right ankle. It was freed from the other ankle now, though that one was still locked to the ring on the floor.

“I guess that’s enough pin the tail on the donkey.” He laughed, grinning wickedly as he gathered up the two free ends of the rope that dangled from her waist. “What do you say we try another party game?”

Shaking her head, she tried to resist as he bent her free right leg at the knee. Despite her attempted resistance, he put his weight into it and easily moved her leg into place. When the heel of her sandal pressed against her ass, he wrapped one of the free ends of the waist rope around her thigh and ankle. She watched helplessly as he used the rope to bind her thigh and calf together, her foot twitching nervously as he tied off the end of the rope.

“I’m afraid that the donkey wasn’t the only thing that I forgot to bring, princess.” He spoke softly as he unlocked both of the cuffs from her other leg. “I also forgot to bring the piñata for the party, so I’m going to have to press you into service again.”

Screaming into the gag, she fought him desperately, kicking wildly with her free leg as the cuffs were removed. Her helplessness was an oppressive weight, threatening to shut down her entire body as she struggled. Though she knew that it was futile to fight him now, bound so tightly in rope and with only one leg free, it was the only way to force her mind to focus on something other than despair. Despite her frantic kicking, he finally managed to get her knee bent and then to wrap the other free piece of rope around thigh and ankle like the first. Lying on her back, her arms bound tightly together beneath her, no longer able to stretch out her legs or do much more than rotate her feet, she panted for air through her nose as she watched him put the finishing touches on his rope work.

Standing up to straddle her body, Jessica watched her captor reach up to grab a rope that dangled down from the rafters above. On her back, she tugged at the ropes that bound her, fighting with all her might against them as she struggled to unbend her knees or wiggle free of the ropes that pinned her forearms together beneath them. Looking down over her body, she saw her breasts heaving beneath her damp top, the tight rope digging into her smooth belly with each tug on the ropes on her arms beneath her, and her thighs trembling with the exertion of fighting the ropes that coiled about them.

“I didn’t think you’d mind piñata duty, really.” He spoke, reaching down to turn her over onto her stomach again, and then tapping one of the staples that held a paper tail in place, making her wince. “After all, you are already in costume.”

A feeling of hollowness filled her as she rested once more on her stomach, her cheek back in the puddle of drool she’d left on the floor earlier. Her feet twitched in nervous anticipation of what was in store for her. She tried to focus on the rage that she felt toward her captor, toward this man sworn to uphold the public safety who was now treating her so wickedly. The anger refused to stay with her, however, leaving in its place a feeling of helplessness and self-pity. She hated the feeling, having always considered herself a person who would never give in to despair. It seemed that the ropes were robbing her of more than just the ability to move as she wished.

“Eeesshhhhh…. Ehhhttt… Eeehhhh…. Oohhhh…” She struggled to speak with the thick rubber ball in her mouth, wanting more than anything to be able to plead for his mercy as she felt him tie the end of the rope in his hand to those that held her elbows together.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t quite make that out.” He laughed.

Jessica began to sob once more, dejected, as she felt the rope on her arms gradually begin to lift up toward the ceiling. At first, it was only uncomfortable to have them lifted, but when her chest rose off the floor and the weight of her upper body came to rest on her shoulders through the poorly designed rope harness, discomfort became genuine pain. She snorted through her nose in protest, a muffled cry escaping her lips as she continued to rise until her knees left the floor, and her whole body dangled by the rope on her arms.

“This is where things really start to hurt, princess.” The black-clad man said softly as he tied off the other end of the rope with which he’d lifted her, stopping her assent at his chest level. “This is where you really earn me my money.”

The ropes bit painfully into Jessica’s stomach and arms as she dangled there before her captor, spinning slowly. She could feel the numbness spreading through her forearms as circulation was cut off by the unbearable position. She whined continuously behind the gag, squeezing her eyes closed tightly as tears and drool spilled to the floor beneath her.

A searing flash of pain slashed across her left thigh and she threw her head back in a primal scream with the first strike of the rod in her captor’s hands. Recovering from the attack with desperate breaths drawn through wide nostrils, she spun slowly until she could see that he held a long thin rod in his hands now. Her whole body tensed in anticipation, but there was nothing she could do to avoid the next blow, a cruel slash across her tortured upper arm. Dangling, already in pain from the pressure on her petite body, she could do nothing to stop the barrage of lashes that he rained down on her. Only those parts of her body which were covered by the maddening ropes were saved from the assault of the wicked rod, and she jerked and quivered with each strike.

“Shit.” He swore, and she moaned in relief as he lowered the rod. “Out of film.”

Jessica’s body convulsed as she dangled from the ropes, gasping and panting for air as she struggled to calm herself. It felt like every square inch of her bare flash was on fire under the cruel attentions of the wicked rod. She stared at the floor, quivering uncontrollably, watching the drool collect beneath her and listening to the sounds of her own labored breathing. She was almost grateful that she couldn’t feel her arms anymore, but at the same time she was terrified about what the lack of feeling could mean.

“The birthday celebration is almost over, princess.” The return of her captor to her side made her jump in the ropes in surprise, and she trembled fearfully. “No more party games. Now it’s just time for some cake and ice cream, and then it’s bed time.”

Jessica groaned from somewhere deep inside her, sputtering as she tried to beg him to let her down, but her lips could not form the words. She saw that he held a long red tapered candle in one hand, and a lighter in the other. He lit the candle, holding the flickering flame only a few inches from her face as she tried to shy away from it.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t remember the cake either. God, you must be so disappointed in me. But I did remember to bring a birthday candle.”

She winced as he grabbed hold of her hair and drew her face closer to the flame. She could feel its heat on her cheek, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she whined. Laughing cruelly, he moved the candle away and then pulled her head down, causing her to tip forward slightly as she dangled. She screamed into the gag as she suddenly felt a burning pain on the back of her neck, the shock rushing down along her spine. For a moment, she thought that he had burned her directly with the candle, but as the wax gradually cooled and hardened against the skin on the back of her neck, she recognized it for what it was. She jerked against the ropes as the searing pain returned, this time a trail of it down her trembling upper arm.

“Hurts like a bitch, doesn’t it, princess?” He hissed, and she screamed again as more of the scorching wax fell on the small of her back, dripping down over the bare sides of her stomach. “I wonder if those cute little feet of yours are very sensitive.”

Trembling in pain and fear, she felt him take hold of her left foot. He forced his finger between the bottom of her foot and the sole of the sandal, creating a gap. Whimpering in anticipation of what was to come, she tried desperately to pull her trapped foot away from his steely grip. Throwing her head back, she screamed as she hot wax dripped down onto the tender arch of her sole, searing the vulnerable flesh and dripping over and between her toes. When he released her foot, she rotated it as much as her bonds allowed, trying to find comfort by rubbing it against her other foot as well as she could.

Moving behind her while she struggled for relief, he stepped in between her legs, forcing them to remain open. Recognizing this change in position, she tried to close them but her knees were stopped by his hips. He placed his free hand on her quivering left thigh to hold her in place. A flash of white pain crossed her vision as the wax dripped down onto the soft inside of her left thigh. She bucked wildly in the ropes as it spread out before hardening, its inner core remaining hot while the cooled outside held it in place. Before she could recover from pain to her left thigh, he dripped more down onto her right, and she screamed and bucked against the ropes.

“God, I don’t think you have any idea how hard you are making me right now.” Her captor hissed as he held tight to her thigh while her body convulsed in pain. “And just think, princess, I don’t even have your clothes off yet.”

Recovering slowly from the assault of the wax, his words sunk into her, the ‘yet’ striking especially close to her heart. In her state of helplessness, it hadn’t really occurred to her that she was still wearing all of the clothing which she had been wearing when she left home earlier in the evening. How much worse would this torment have been if he’d stripped her first? Would he continue these cruel tortures for as long as she was here, and later in the nude? Was he going to rape her? The answer to the last question seemed glaringly obvious to her, bringing new tears to her eyes as she hung helplessly.

She groaned as she heard him walk away, shuddering in her bonds. Her head hung down as she tried to ignore the pain that consumed her senses, the acute pains of the lashing and candle wax blending with the ongoing agony of the suspension. She fantasized about a SWAT team breaking down the door and her captor dying in a hail of gunfire before they cut her free, but had no real hope that it would come to be. Who better, she realized, than a police officer to know exactly how to get away with a crime? But still she clung to the slim hope of rescue, telling herself that she only needed to hold on until help arrived.

Something new being rolled underneath her interrupted Jessica’s fantasy of rescue. She watched, nearly delirious from strain on her body, a large circular washbasin came to a stop beneath her. A chill ran down her spine when she saw that it was filled not only with water, but also with ice. Trembling anew in her bonds, shuddering sobs racked her body. She was surprised to feel her captor’s hands on the back of her head, releasing the straps that held the ball in her mouth. She nearly gagged as he pulled it free from behind her teeth, her jaw cramping at the sudden release of pressure.

“Oh god… Oh god… please, just untie me… let me down.” She sobbed, the words rushing from her mouth in a cascade of misery. “It hurts… it hurts so bad…”

“Shh… Shh…” He whispered consolingly. “I promised you Ice Cream, didn’t I? I’m sorry that you’ll have to forgive me the horrible pun.”

“Don’t do this… please, I can’t… I can’t take any more.”

“Yes you can, because you’re a big girl now, aren’t you, princess?” He spoke softly into her ear, his hands running through her matted hair. “And this is the last set of pictures for daddy dearest.”

“But please… it hurts… it hurts too - ” Jessica’s words were cut off as her captor cut the rope and she plummeted with a scream into the waiting pool of water.

The icy water struck her hard, knocking the wind from her lungs. Its cold embrace seized her as she plunged beneath the surface, kicking out wildly with her bound legs as she hit the bottom. She fought frantically against the ropes as she struggled to reach the surface again, finally managing to get her legs underneath her and rise up on her knees. The water level stopped just below her breasts as she strained to get as much of her body as possible above its surface.

“Cold… Fuck… c-c-cold… God, I’m… get me out!” She cried out as she broke the surface, her teeth chattering behind already blue lips as the shivers gripped her.

“Let’s get you cleaned up a little first, princess.”

She struggled with the wet ropes, shivering uncontrollably, as he reached into the icy water and ran his hands over her body. As he groped and fondled her beneath the surface of the water, she felt him break away the dried wax that coated the insides of her thighs, her back, and the bottom of her foot. She winced, though barely felt it, as he plucked the staples and soggy paper tails from her ass. She gasped when he moved one hand to each side of her neck and began to tip her backwards.

“No! D-don’t!” She screamed.

Ignoring her pleas, he dunked her head backwards and she thrashed desperately in the water. He held her beneath the surface, the cold seemingly amplified a hundred-fold, while he rubbed the wax from the back of her neck and then ran his fingers through her hair again. When he finished, he lifted her up in his arms and fully out of the icy water. She gasped for air, panting in short breaths as she left the cold water behind. She pressed in close to him as he cradled her in his arms, carrying her as if she weighed nothing, desperate for the warmth that his body provided.

“I hope that your daddy finds those pictures convincing enough, princess.” He whispered in her ear, pulling off his ski mask as he carried her across the room.

“He… he will… he will…” She whimpered, blue lips still quivering.

“You’d better hope so. The next photo shoot will be far less pleasant for you.”

Jessica sobbed as he carried her to and placed her down on the metal cot. There was no mattress on it, and she was place directly on its rusty springs. They creaked under her body as she settled into them. Lying on her back, she felt the little metal springs pinch the flesh of her upper arms as her captor moved her to where he wanted her. She groaned in relief as she watched him begin to untie the rope that circled her right thigh and ankle.

“Please… I’m so cold.” She whimpered.

“We’ll get you dried off in just a little bit, princess, and out of these wet clothes.”

Desperate as she was for warmth, she was terrified by the thought of losing her clothing. She could see the imprints of the rope in the flesh of her thigh as he finished untying it and then stretched out her leg on the cot. His hands moved to the straps of her sandal, up close to her knee, untying them and slipping the straps of the sandal from her foot. She watched as he tossed the sandal into the bucket next to the bed, straps flying wildly like streamers until it disappeared out of sight.

“You’d look much better in something with heels, you know.” He spoke, almost absently, as he untied her left leg, and then removed its sandal as well, tossing it into the waiting bucket.

“No, don’t, please!” She cried out as his hands moved to her denim skirt, opening its four buttons and beginning to tug it down her legs.

“Just relax, princess. It’s not going to do you any good to try and stop me, tied up like you are.” He spoke soothingly, the truth of his words filling her with despair, as he drew the skirt down over her slender legs, revealing her sheer white panties, and tossed it into the bucket.

“How long are you going to keep me here?” She asked, blushing crimson as she pressed her thighs together, trying to take her mind off what he was doing to her.

“Daddy is going to get an anonymous phone call tonight that his little princess has been kidnapped and how much I am demanding, and that he will receive a package with proof and instructions. I’ll going to drop our first set of pictures in the mail to him tonight, so he should get them in a couple days.” He told her as he bent across her to stretch her left leg out toward the corner of the little cot, reaching underneath it to gather up a gleaming silver cuff that was attached to that corner of the bed by a chain. “On the phone, I’ll also tell him that any attempts to contact the authorities will result in very bad things for you. With the pictures, he’ll get instructions regarding exactly how much I want, and how he will give it to me.”

“But why mail them…” Her voice cracked, breaking off her train of thought as she watched and felt the cold steel cuff close about her slender ankle, locking it in place close to that corner of the cot. “Wouldn’t it be faster to just drop them off?”

“Yes, it would, but I want to give him some time. He’ll need it to get the money together, princess.” He continued, moving her right foot towards its corner, and bringing out another of the cuffs. “And I will need time to check all the potential channels and make sure daddy really hasn’t contacted any law enforcement.”

“Please, can’t you just do the one foot?” Jessica whimpered, pouting and pulling back her foot slightly as he drew it closer to the waiting cuff. “I won’t be able to get away, and it would be… be a lot easier for me to handle…please.”

“It would also be easier for you if I just locked you in a room by yourself, princess.” He hissed, yanking her foot back into place and closing the cuff tightly in place on it. “But this isn’t about making things easy for you.”

“So… So… it’s going to be days until you can get your money?” She asked, looking up at him as he moved from the area of her feet to her upper body.

“Yes, I’d say four at a minimum.” He answered, putting a hand behind her back and rising her up into a sitting position with her legs stretched out in a ‘v’ in front of her.

“Then are you just going to keep me chained to this cot until then?” She asked, moaning softly as he untied the rope around her waist and then began to slowly unwind the bonds on her forearms behind her.

“While I am at work at night; yes.” He answered, and she gasped in relief as the coils of rope finally came free from her arms.

“And after that?” She asked, wincing as pins and needles lanced through her arms while they hung nearly uselessly by her sides. She wanted desperately to fight him, now that her arms were free, but they felt like wooden logs, weak and trembling. And what could she do, anyways, with her ankles already locked in place?

“After that, we’ll have a little training time, just in case daddy doesn’t play by the rules.” He grinned as he said this last part, grabbing the bottom of her top and pulling it up and over her head, revealing her matching white bra. Instead of fighting him, she tried to rub some life back into her aching forearms and shoulders.

“Training time? What do you mean?” She asked weakly as he pressed her back down to lie on the creaking springs of the cot and tossed her top into the bucket with the rest.

“I mean, time to train you properly for the next set of photographs that will be sent to your father.” As he spoke, he took hold of her right wrist and pulled it up to the top right corner of the cot, and she heard the rattle of chain. “But we won’t need those, will we?”

Not trusting her voice, feeling new tears welling in her eyes as he closed a cuff on her wrist, she shook her head in response. Biting her lower lip, she tested each of the three cuffs already in place on her, the rattle of the chains sending a chill down her spine. A heaving sob wracked through her body as the last cuff was closed in place on her left wrist, completing her enforced spread eagle position on the bed. He moved to sit next to her on the cot, the springs pinching and biting her bare flesh as they adjusted to his additional weight. Looking down on her from where he sat, he ran his fingers over her bare, trembling belly.

“I should warn you, princess, that you’re going to be a very changed girl by the time you leave here, even if your daddy does exactly what he’s supposed to do.”

“Changed? Wh-what… what do you mean?” Jessica sobbed as her captor’s hand moved from her belly to her breasts, caressing them through the bra.

“You’ll understand a lot better when training begins tomorrow.” He continued, a finger tracing the outline of her nipple through the sheer material of the bra. “I believe that you are going to make an excellent ponygirl.”

“What do you mean?” She pulled at the cuffs on her wrists, trying to shy away from him as he began to pull the cups of her bra down over her breasts. “What the hell is a ponygirl?”

“A ponygirl is something very special, princess. Like any good beast of burden, she wears tack and harness to make it easier for her owner to control her.” He yanked the bra down, exposing her breasts as she cried out. “She performs menial tasks for her owner, as well, excelling at manual labor like her truly equine sisters.”

“But why!? Why do you have to do this to me?” She sobbed as his hands cupped her bare breasts.

“What truly makes a ponygirl what she is, and what makes her truly special, is the moment when she forgets that she is human at all, realizing her place as something less than human.” He played with her exposed nipples, smiling broadly as he continued. “The moment when she recognizes that she is a piece of property, to be used as her master wishes.”

“I’m not… I’m not a piece of property.”

“You’re not yet, princess.” He hissed, his eyes narrowing as he gave both nipples hard pinches between thumbs and forefingers. “But you will be by the time your daddy pays your ransom.”

“No, I won’t.” She replied through clenched teeth.

“Oh good, princess. I’m glad you think so.” He chuckled menacingly, releasing her nipples and the rising to stand. “Because I am going to really enjoy proving you wrong.”

Jessica looked up at him, shuddering on the cot as she laid spread before him. He moved to the head of the little bed and turned a dial. She was surprised when nothing more sinister than the soft sounds of classical music resulted.

“It’s time for me to get back to work, princess.” He smiled as he looked down at her. “You should try to get some sleep, because you’ve got a long day ahead of you tomorrow. I’ll let you know what your daddy says.”

“Please… please don’t leave me here.” Jessica sobbed as he began to walk away, raising her voice above the sounds of the music. “Don’t do this to me!”

Without another word, her captor turned off the lights and left the room, leaving her to cry softly in the darkness. Only a tiny red light remained above her as the cot creaked beneath her chained body. Her mind reeled with the reality of her situation, and her heart was filled with dread. Her body trembled with exhaustion from the torments he had inflicted on her, but she couldn’t imagine falling asleep. How could this be happening to her? She sobbed as she tried not to think about what his words about the next day’s ‘training’ could possibly mean. She told herself that there had to be a way to escape but the ease with which he had controlled her and bound her so far seemed to say otherwise.

“Help me!” She cried out desperately, muscles straining as she pulled at the cuffs that held her wrists and ankles. “Somebody please help me!”

Jessica’s unanswered plea for help reverberated off the walls of the mill and was swallowed by the soothing sounds of the music that continued to play. Sobbing, she lay spread on the creaking cot, losing herself in her misery.

Chapter Two – Jessica’s Long Night

Every time Jessica moved, it seemed like the cruel rusted springs beneath her would find a new and more tender piece of her flesh to pinch and bite. And yet, try as she might, she could not resist moving, always seeking an impossible to find position of comfort, and to test the grip of the bonds that held her in place. Only a few hours earlier, she realized, if asked her opinion about handcuffs, she might have winked and said something like ‘Oohh… kinky’ with a playful smile. Now, that innocent opinion was gone, transformed into an utter hatred for the slender pieces of metal and the way they eliminated her freedom and chafed her flesh in their un-giving restraint.

Though the cot was anything but comfortable, bare springs pressed into her back, there was nothing uncomfortable about the position in which she laid, flat on her back with her arms and legs out at reasonable angles. It was the simple inability to change that position that made it unbearable. She wanted, at the very least, to reach down and pull the cups of her bra back into place to cover her breasts. The bucket containing her clothing was only a few feet from her head, but it might as well have been miles away. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as she lay there in darkness.

Jessica woke without realizing she had even fallen asleep. She woke confused and tired and tried, instinctively, to sit up as she woke, and whined as the cuffs brought her up short. The music had ended, she realized, and the loud sound of static that now emanated from the speakers must have been what woke her from her slumber. She wished that she could cover her ears to help deaden the obnoxious hissing sound and the occasional squeals that interjected themselves, but she couldn’t reach.

Suddenly, a bright light appeared above her, and she cried out in surprise. Jessica tugged once more at her restraints, frustrated and tired, as the light began to turn itself on and off. The light, intense and white, continued to turn on and off, growing in speed until it gradually flashed with the rapidity of a strobe light. As the light grew towards this frenzied pace, the static of the speakers grew in volume and the squeals, now almost painful at the higher volume, became more common.

“Stop it!” Jessica screamed, her teary eyes squeezed shut tightly but still unable to block the intense flashes of light. “Who’s doing this!? Why are you doing this to me?!”

As suddenly as the visual and audio assault had begun, it ended, and Jessica was left in darkness and silence once more, collapsing against the bed. Moaning, she opened her eyes to the darkness, and tried to find a comfortable place once more.

“Three…. Two…. One…” The voice was recorded, played through the speakers, but Jessica recognized it instantly as that of her captor.

At the end of the brief countdown, there was a loud click and then Jessica experienced pain such as she had never known it before. Her whole body instantly tensed, her back arching as she lifted herself reflexively off the bed on her heels and arms. It felt like her insides were being burned as a powerful jolt of electricity tore through her and she opened her mouth in a silent scream, head thrown back. The charge was mercifully short-lived, and when it ended, her body collapsed back into the springs and she felt her heart and lungs begin to work again. All of her muscles twitched as one as she panted raggedly, whimpering as she recovered from the horrific shock.

“Oh god… Oh god… Oh god…” She whimpered as she slowly regained some control of herself. “Please… is someone there?”

The music began again, the same classical song that had been playing earlier. She trembled as she lay there, her heart racing. She wondered if the cruel officer was in the room with her, orchestrating this attack on her, or if it was set up on some kind of timer. Either way, it was horrific. Would there be another shock, she wondered, and shivered at the possibility. Turning slightly onto her side, she strained her eyes as they adjusted to the darkness, looking for any sign of movement, but finding none. As her eyes further explored the room, she saw three more red lights like the one above the bed, all fairly close to her.

Lying back on the harsh springs, Jessica explored the cuffs on her wrists with her fingers once more. They were hard against her flesh, and left little to no room between themselves and her wrists. So tight were they that she couldn’t even turn her wrists in them. She knew, without a doubt, that she would not be able to slip them past the bones of her hands. Turning her feet, seeing them only in shadow in the darkness, the cuffs on her ankles did turn slightly, a little looser than those on her hands. It made no difference, though, she knew, because they were firmly locked between her heels and ankles bones, and they were not moving any lower on her. Not for the first time, the complete helplessness of her situation sunk in to her.

She tried to make sense of what was happening to her. The things that her captor had said to her made sense in and of themselves. Her father was a very wealthy man, often proclaiming himself the wealthiest man in the county. It made sense that a kidnapper would choose her as his victim. But why all of the rest? Though he claimed that it was part of his plan to ensure that her father would pay, but she knew that it was more than that. It was obvious that the sick bastard enjoyed what he was doing to her. In her mind, she could still feel the touch of his hard cock, even through his jeans, and could still hear the lust in his voice when he talked about her body.

A thought occurred to her while she tried to make sense of it all, and it hit her like a freight train. While the policeman had been careful to put on a mask when he turned on the cameras, to hide his identity, she suddenly realized that he had never made any attempt to hide his face from her. New tears stung her eyes, and she began to sob as she realized exactly what that meant. There was no way that he was going to let her go. She had seen his face. Horror and despair overwhelmed her as she realized that if she didn’t find a way to escape, he was going to kill her.

“No! Fuck you! No! Don’t!” She screamed in rage and frustration when the classical music was, once again, replaced by the hissing static sound. “Somebody help me!”

Jessica raged against her bonds and the cot as the light began to flash again, ignoring the protests of her chafed wrists and ankles as she released some of her pent-up sorrow in the hopeless exertion. She fought the cot and its hold on her and lost as the lights and sounds reached their climax once more before blinking off again.

“Please, don’t do this.” Jessica sobbed, her voice hoarse and throat raw from her screams. “Don’t hurt me.”

“Three… Two… One…” The recorded voice intoned again, followed by another heavy click.

The second burst of electricity was no easier to handle than the first, even though she knew it was coming. Again, he body jerked against the cot in response to the attack as it coursed through her flesh. When the agony passed, she collapsed again, her arms and legs twitching as she panted for air.

“Why are you doing this to me!?” She cried out in frustration, her voice cracking. “I never hurt anyone! I’m a good girl!”

Jessica’s only answer was the return of the classical music, and she sobbed as she lay back on the cot. She wondered how long her captor had been gone, and how long it would be until his return. Her whole body was exhausted from the long torment, and it yearned for sleep, and yet her mind would not stop racing. The soft music that played seemed to be a constant reminder of the electric shocks, and her mind latched on to every slight pause in it to anticipate the beginning of another attack. She struggled to stop thinking about the electricity and to concentrate on finding a way to escape, but every squeak of the springs beneath her dragged her thoughts back to the purpose of her bed for the night.

Somewhere in a haze between sleep and waking, Jessica must have fallen asleep again, because she woke once more with a start. This time, the light had already reached strobe intensity, blinking rapidly above her as she woke. Instantly locked in terror, she tensed as the light and sound show stopped once more.

Another countdown. Another click, and then more pain. This became the pattern of the night for Jessica. The night became a nightmarish tableau of her body’s desperate attempts at sleep, interspersed by the terror and pain of the buildup and attack of the electricity. Sometimes she would wake when the music stopped, and other times only when the current rushed through her body. But always her sleep was interrupted by the same pattern of buildup and then assault.

As the horrible night dragged on, Jessica felt her exhaustion grow more and more real, until she yearned so badly to sleep that she cried. She thought no longer of the motivation of her abductor, or of what her fate might be. All of her world was focused on desperately grabbing whatever sleep she could find between the attacks on her tortured body. Adrift in a sea of torment, Jessica struggled to cling to hope as the night crawled by.

Chapter Three – An Unwilling Pony

Jessica woke again, and immediately tensed in anticipation of another searing jolt of electricity. This time, while there was light, it was a steady one in place of the strobe. She realized that she had been woken not by the beginning of another period of assault, but by the weight of her captor sitting down on the cot next to her. She saw that he was dressed in black as he had been the day before, and once again wearing a mask. The sight of him filled her with both dread and relief; it was the end of her night of horrors, but she had no idea what the day would bring.

“Good morning, princess.” He whispered as her eyes opened, reaching down to run his hands over her bare breasts, picking up right where he had left off the night before. “I imagine you didn’t get much sleep last night, did you?”

“Please… just let me sleep.” Jessica sobbed, exhaustion filling her to the brim. “I’m so tired.”

“If you take well to your training today, I will let you get some sleep tonight.” He answered, continuing to caress her body. “Would you like that?”

Biting her lower lip to hold back tears, not trusting her voice not to break once more, she nodded in response to his question. At first, she was grateful when he removed his hands from her breasts, but then she cried out in terror when she saw him take a knife from his pocket, flipping open its cruel-looking blade.

“Don’t!” She cried out, looking away from the wicked blade and pulling at her bonds. “Don’t kill me!”

“Relax, princess…” He cooed softly, and she felt the cool, flat edge of the blade between her breasts, goosebumps rising on her flesh as he slowly slid it along her skin and under the material of her bra. “I’m not going to kill you.”

“Yes, you are.” She whimpered, wincing as she felt him turn the blade upwards and easily slice through the bra.

“What makes you say that?” He asked, and she saw his eyes narrow slightly as he cut the two upper straps of the bra as well.

“I’ve seen your face, so you have to kill me.” She sobbed, overcome with new tears. “You hid it from the pictures… from everyone else… but I’ve seen it. You won’t let me go, no matter what my father gives you.”

“You’re right, princess. You have seen my face.” He spoke softly, the tone of his voice changing slightly as he tugged the remnants of the bra out from under her, and then tossed it in the bucket that held the rest of her clothing. “But I have no intention of killing you.”

“Right. Sure. You’ll just let me go after you get your money, so I can identify you.” Jessica’s voice sounded small and distant to her as she spoke the words, keeping her eyes locked on her captor as he moved down the cot a little, sliding the flat of the blade down over her trembling belly.

“I’m hiding my face from them, so that they don’t recognize me before I get my money.” He spoke, breaking eye contact with her to watch as he slipped the blade of the knife under the right waistband of her panties. “Once I have what I want, I can let you go and go somewhere where it won’t matter if they know it was me.”

“I don’t believe you.” Jessica whispered softly, a shiver running down her spine as she watched him slice through the material of her panties and then move the blade over to the other side of her hip.

“It doesn’t matter what you believe, princess.” His eyes looked cold as he sliced the other side of the panties, and the chains on her feet rattled as she drew her thighs together as close as they allowed.

“Wh-what… what are you… Are you going to… to…” Jessica began, but couldn’t finish the thought as he grabbed the remains of her panties and yanked them out from under her, exposing her neatly trimmed pussy.

“Whatever you believe my intentions and plans are, princess, you have much more important things to be worrying about right now.” He spoke sternly as he tossed the remains of the panties in the bucket. “Last night, I abducted Jessica Miller, but as of this moment, that has changed, and you had better begin to adjust.”

“Adjust to what?” She rattled her chains, watching as he tossed a lit match into the bucket, the contents immediately bursting into flames. “I am Jessica Miller.”

From under the cot, he produced a coffee cup, and she could see steam rising from inside it. He dipped a thin wooden tongue depressor into the mug and it came out coated in a thick waxy substance. A fluttering quiver ran through her belly as he began to apply the warm wax to the thin patch of hair above her vagina. When the area was coated, he put the mug back down and then covered the wax with a thin piece of cloth. She never experienced waxing before, but she immediately recognized it for what it was, and trembled in anticipation.

“Please… what are you doing?” She sobbed as he reached under the cot again. “Why are you doing this? How is this going to get my father to give you money?”

“This isn’t about the money. This is the beginning of your training.” He sat back up, holding a pair of what looked like black, padded leather mittens, only she could see no thumbholes and they had wrist straps with gleaming silver buckles. “And for the next few days, you are going to need to focus on one thing and one thing only; getting through it.”

“But why?” Jessica sobbed as he tugged the first of the mittens onto her left hand. “Why are you doing this?”

The space inside the mitten forced her to make a fist, curling her fingers into a ball as he pressed it into place. When it was fully over her hand, she watched him turn the key in her handcuff and loosen it enough to slip it further up her forearm. With the cuff out of the way, he strapped the mitten in place on her wrist, tightly closing its buckle and then locking it in place with a small padlock. The whole series of actions seemed strange to her as he worked. He was easily over two hundred pounds, and she barely cleared a hundred. He was definitely stronger than she was. Yet he took no chances at all as he bound and manipulated her. He treated her as if she was a real threat that could actually overpower him if he gave her the slightest opportunity. She realized with despair that unless this changed, her chances of escape were impossibly slim.

While he repeated his procedure with her right hand, she looked at the left. The mitten was too big to fit through even the widened handcuff but she tried anyways. Inside, there was no flexibility for her hand, and no room to move it. Effectively, her hand was now a club, and a padded one at that. When her right hand was rendered equally useless to her, he rose from the bed and moved to kneel next to her feet, picking up a strange-looking boot from the floor next to him.

“You… You like this, don’t you…” She whispered softly, trying to remain calm and fight back tears as he removed the cuff from her right ankle. “You like doing these things to me… tying me up.”

“That, I do, princess.” He replied as he slid the boot onto her foot.

She paused as he slipped the new footwear into place, wanting to pick her words carefully. It was obvious that she aroused him, and she wondered if she could turn that to her advantage, but she felt like she needed to be careful. As her foot slid into the boot, she discovered that its interior was stiff and hard, containing some kind of plate that forced her foot and toes to remain on point. As he began to lace the boot in place up her calf, its confining grip grew stronger, molding her foot to its shape. Looking down over her body, she could now make out the hoof-like shape of the front of the boot.

“Why do you want me to be a pony?” Jessica tried to remain calm as he finished lacing the boot in place, easily recognizing the way that her hands and now her feet were being taken from her.

“For two reasons, really.” He answered as he unlocked her other foot and began to put a matching boot in place on it. “First of all, it’s quite an arousing sight for me. Your body alone is enough to drive me wild, but seeing you bound takes me to a whole other place.”

His words reminded her of the fact that she was now naked, and that there was nothing she could do to stop him from doing whatever he wanted to her. A thin trail of smoke still rose from the bucket, which had held the clothes of her former life. Jessica felt him make the final tugs on her other boot, her foot held now in the awkward pointing position. As he stood and moved back to the head of her prison bed, she lifted her foot to inspect the new footwear. The front of it, as expected, was in the shape of a horse’s hoof, but the back of it was unexpected. Though her foot was held in the shape of a high heeled shoe, there was no heel on the back. The heel of her foot would be suspended, she guessed about five or six inches off the ground, with only her toes for support.

“And what’s the other reason?” She asked quietly as he sat down next to her again and reached down to run the tips of his fingers over the cloth and wax that he had placed earlier.

“The other reason is simply a matter of convenience.” She watched, a tremor of fear running through her as he took hold of the top of the cloth. “If your father is not cooperative after the first set of pictures, I’ll need to up the ante with him, and this will be an effective way to do that.”

Jessica cried out in pain as he tore the strip of cloth from her body. The pain was intense but, gratefully, sudden and not long lasting. More than the pain, she detested the helplessness. Her whole body ached with exhaustion. She wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and wake to discover it was all a bad dream, but at the same time she was so tense that she couldn’t relax at all, terrified of what was going to come next. She was surprised when he reached to her hands and unlocked the cuffs on her wrists.

The moment her second wrist came free, Jessica pushed herself up from the cot and launched herself onto her feet. She imagined herself racing toward the door, knowing that she had to be faster than her bulky captor was. She didn’t pause to think of the fact that she was naked save for the gloves and boots, or how hard it would be to open a door. She considered only the fact that she had been unlocked from the cot and that her limbs were free.

Reality was catastrophically different from her imagination. Her first step left her wobbling, and the second had her falling forward. Up on her toes inside the strange boots, and moving quickly, she could not find any semblance of balance. Before taking a third step, her legs came out from under her and she collapsed to the floor, landing hard on her hip and catching herself with the padded mittens. Scrambling up onto her knees, she started to crawl away until she felt her captor’s rough hand in her hair again. She cried out as he jerked her painfully backwards, dragging her back up to sit on his lap on the edge of the cot, her useless legs kicking out in front of her. She could feel his hard cock straining to burst through his pants as her bare ass squirmed on his lap.

“Poor little princess.” He laughed softly, his breath hot on her ear as he leaned in close to whisper to her. “You’re going to have to learn to walk before you can run.”

“Please… please don’t be mad.” She whimpered as she realized how foolish it had been to try an escape, and dreading what consequences it might bring. “I won’t try to run again.”

“I’m not mad, princess.” He spoke softly, and she quivered with dread as he reached under the bed to gather up what appeared to be a bundle of black leather straps that he placed on her lap. “The fault is my own. Any good trainer knows that if you give a filly a chance to run, she’ll take it. The important thing is making sure she doesn’t get too far.”

“But why…” Jessica started, and then paused to collect herself, feeling that she was losing more of herself with every passing moment and desperate to hold tight to what remained of her sanity. “But why a horse?”

“Horses lead lives of servitude, princess.” He answered as he began to wrap the leather straps around her torso, revealing it to be a harness of some kind. “And mankind’s considerable creative energies have developed quite devious and effective ways to control them. It’s quite natural to apply those tried and true principles to other disciplines.”

“I’m just a girl, though.” She whimpered, her lip trembling as he crossed the straps of the harness between her breasts, making an ‘x’ with a silver ring at its center. “You don’t need… you don’t need all this.”

“You’ll forget all of that shortly, beautiful.” He hissed softly, continuing to buckle the straps of the harness in place around her back and shoulders, the leather digging into the soft flesh of her belly as he tightened it. “By the time daddy pays up, your life will be so much simpler than it used to be. You should thank me, really.”

“Oh sure.” She spit the words out venomously as he finished with the harness, and she winced as he gave each of its many dangling rings testing tugs. “Thanks for everything.”

“Do I detect a little sarcasm there, princess?” He laughed as he reached under the cot and withdrew a short, thick leather band. “But you see, that’s exactly what I mean. All of the stress of your life is now gone. All you have to think about now is serving. Not more pesky life decisions to make.”

“But I liked my life.” Jessica felt new tears slips from her eyes, and then stiffened as he wrapped the wide band around her neck, her mittened hands instinctively reaching up to it. “What? What is that?”

“It’s called a posture collar, princess, and it will be good for you.” He explained as he buckled it in place. The soft but firm leather covered her neck from sternum to chin, cradling the line of her jaw and holding it firmly in place. As he locked it on her, she discovered that she could no longer either turn her head or look down.

Lost in a sea of hopelessness, she began to sob wholeheartedly again, bare breasts heaving as she gave in to her despair. She felt, rather than saw, her captor drawing her right arm behind her back, bending it at the elbow and then pulling her hand up between her shoulder blades. There was the click of a lock as the hand was secured in place. Her whole body quivered as she cried, not resisting as he brought her left hand up to match the uncomfortable position of the right.

“That’s it, baby.” He whispered softly, running his fingers through her hair and drawing it up into a ponytail on the back of her head. “Just let it all out.”

“You can’t do this to me!” She screamed through her tears, yanking at the bonds that held her hands up behind her back.

“Oh, but I can and I am, princess.”

Jessica’s shoulders shook as she sobbed, her captor beginning to wrap a thin series of straps around her head. The thin, soft leather crisscrossed her cheeks, and she saw a set of wide black blinders in place on the sides of her face, blocking out her peripheral vision. Taking stock of her situation filled her with even less hope than she had felt that morning. Her hands were doubly useless to her, imprisoned in the leather mitts and then trapped high up on her back, as if she were praying, only in reverse. Her legs were seemingly free, but her brief experience walking in the boots told her that they were quite effectively restrained. She was almost grateful for the stiff collar on her neck that barred her from looking down, simply for the fact that it stopped her from looking down at her naked body, her breasts and pussy completely exposed and vulnerable in spite of the many strange adornments that he had strapped on her.

“Open up, princess.” He whispered in her ear, one hand holding something metallic in front of her lips while he wrapped the other around her waist.

She opened her mouth at his command, though she regretted it almost instantly. It was a metal bar that he placed between her lips, like a horse’s bit, and it tasted foul and metallic. Worse, though, a projection of some kind stuck out of the back of it and he forced it back until it set off her gag reflex. She fought against its continuing advance with her tongue and lips, and he eased his pressure just enough for it to rest far enough forward not to gag her. He attached the bit to the harness that enwrapped her head with what felt like thick rubber bands against her tear-stained cheeks.

“Please ta-” Jessica’s attempt at speech was interrupted by fierce gagging. As soon as she released the bit from the hold of her teeth, it plunged back deeper into her throat, and she had to struggle against the pull of its rubber holders to force it back out into a bearable position.

“There, there, pet.” He hissed, rubbing his hands up and down her thighs as she recovered from the gagging, her teeth clenched tightly on the metal in her mouth. “Ponies don’t need to speak.”

Jessica stared straight ahead, though she had little choice, as he lifted her carefully to her feet, rising with her and keeping his hands on her hips. Even in the treacherous boots, he was still nearly a foot taller than she was, and she swayed as she struggled to keep her balance up on her toes. Her feet cried out in protest at the unnatural position and she nearly toppled, leaning into the grip of her captor to avoid falling.

“Take your time, princess.” He righted her again, one hand remaining on her hip while the other roamed down to glide over the firm globes of her ass. “You’ll want to take slow, easy steps until you get the hang of it. I’ll help you.”

Jessica’s cheeks burned red in humiliation as he prodded her gently forward with his hand on her ass. Focusing hard, she brought her right foot forward and it came down on the hard floor with a little clopping sound. As much as she hated doing as commanded, she recognized that she would need to learn to walk in these god-awful boots if she was going to have any chance of escaping this place. Hesitantly, she took a few more careful steps forward, leaning against him for support only when absolutely necessary. Vivid memories of ballet class as a child sprung into her mind. She’d dropped out of the classes at a young age, specifically because she refused to learn to go up on her toes, ‘en pointe’ or something she thought her instructor had called it. Now here she was getting another lesson, though this was not one that she was going to be allowed to quit. It suddenly occurred to her that, if she hadn’t dropped out of ballet class so many years before, she might have been able to make good on her escape attempt earlier.

“You’re doing very well, princess.” He spoke softly, stopping her and stepping in behind her.

As he drew her in close, crushing her bound arms behind her against his broad chest, Jessica’s captor reached around to roughly grasp her breasts, squeezing them. She cried out through clenched teeth as he mauled them with his strong hands. Her powerlessness was overwhelming. Never before in her life had she felt so small and helpless, barely able to even walk, let alone fight back, as this cruel stranger groped and fondled her. Holding tight to her body, one hand roaming down over her flat stomach to tickle it lightly as she panted, he turned her to face another corner of the room. With the blinders and collar directing her sight forward, she had originally missed the rope strung in a rough circle at about waist level, perhaps 30 feet in circumference, supported at various points by metal poles set in the floor, and with knots tied at intervals along its length.

“We’re going to call this a little trial by fire for you, princess.” He patted her ass again, finished with his fondling and directing her toward the waiting rope. “This should be an excellent opportunity for you to get the hang of walking again.”

As she stumbled forward awkwardly, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering how long it would be until he decided to rape her, and why he had restrained himself thus far. It was clear from the way that he reacted to her that he wanted to, she thought with dread and loathing, and yet he had so far abstained from taking her. She tugged nervously at the bonds on her wrists, recognizing how vulnerable she was at this moment, her pussy bare and exposed with no means to defend herself. He stopped her, facing the ring of rope, just in front of one of its supporting poles. Jessica’s heart pounded in her chest in anticipation of what was to come.

“Hhleeezzeee…. Dhon’t” She groaned around the metallic bit in her mouth as her captor lifted her up and placed her back down again, the rope stretching out in front of her, and firmly pressed between her legs.

The rough hemp bit into Jessica’s bare pussy lips as she came to rest on the floor with a light clatter. She cried out, screaming in frustration around the bit, as he crudely spread those nether lips, allowing the scratchy rope to wedge itself between them. When he released her, she wobbled slightly, squeezing her legs together tightly to try to alleviate some of its pressure, and to seek what support she could gain from the taut rope.

“We’re going to try some laps, princess, and keep going until you’ve got the hang of walking again.” He spoke slowly, pausing to fit in his words between her ragged pants and grunts.

With tear-blurred vision, she saw him squat down, leaving her limited field of vision, and then felt his hands run over her legs. As she struggled to maintain her balance, he caressed her thighs and ass, spreading her cheeks as if her were inspecting her. She wanted to scream and rage against him, but the bit continued to threaten to make another plunge into her throat, requiring the constant attention of her clenched jaw to remain in place. The bound girl stood absolutely still as her captor rose to walk around behind her, too afraid of losing her balance to move.

“Three…. Two….” He spoke strongly, and Jessica felt herself step forward immediately, instinctively.

With the hesitant, mincing step, the rough hemp scraped painfully across her vulnerable pussy and she crying out in pain, legs wobbling. Stopping again, she clenched her thighs tight against the rope. Recovering, she couldn’t believe how quickly his voice had made her move, the simple countdown bringing horrific memories of the long night before directly to her mind. The rope was extremely uncomfortable even without movement, particularly because she was forced to lean into it for the extra support that her feet could not give her while trapped in the boots. In motion, however, it was a far worse experience, and her pussy burned from the inch she had traveled.

“Keep moving, princess.” Her captor ordered behind, and she felt something tap against the rope, making it quiver for a moment. “Three… Two…. One…”

Ready for the countdown this time, Jessica forced herself to remain still throughout it, though her body instinctively wanted to move. At its conclusion, she felt something tap against her left asscheek, and then an explosion of pain that rippled through her leg and belly. She screamed as the shock tore through her, and then gagged on the bit as it plunged back into her open mouth. Choking, she lost her balance and fell forward, the cruel rope dragging across her tender pussy until she fell past it, her shoulder hitting the ground hard. She trembled, lying on her side and unable to right herself, one of her legs lifted up in the air and resting on the taut rope. She fought with the bit, her jaw tightening and threatening to cramp as she forced it back into place.

“I expect my commands to be obeyed, princess.” He spoke softly as he reached down to lift her, setting her back on her feet with the rope once more riding against her pussy. “Make no mistake, ponygirl. I will break you.”

As she sobbed and struggled to maintain her balance, Jessica watched her captor move in front of her. Through a haze of tears, she saw that he was carrying a red rod with two prongs on its end that were tipped in metal. She jerked backwards, almost falling, as he pointed the thing in her direction.

“It’s a cattleprod, in case you’re wondering.” He laughed.

Her cheeks red and flush with tears, Jessica struggled to walk forward, her chest heaving with sobs as the rope ground between her pussy lips. Her boots continued to make their clopping noises with each careful step. She tried to focus her mind on something else, anything else, but it refused to concentrate on anything but the pain between her legs and the horror of this captivity. Pausing between each careful step to clutch the rope with her thighs and adjust her balance, she continued her slow pace forward until she felt a thick knot against the lips of her pussy, dreading the thought of trying to pass it.

“Keep going, princess.” Her captor warned her, still brandishing the wicked prod as she stared into his eyes, pleading silently with him.

Closing her eyes tightly, squeezing the tears from them, she pushed herself slowly forward over the knot. Her thighs trembled as the sensation, a bizarre mix of titillation and pain, rushed through them. Jessica’s breath caught in her throat as the rough knot grazed across her clitoris before burying itself in her vagina for a moment before she passed it completely. On the other side of the knot, she paused, a thin sheen of sweat coating her slender body. Pressing forward again, she sobbed as the rough rope continued to bite into her most sensitive flesh, reaching another knot and passing this one more quickly.

“You’re getting the hang of it.” Her captor spoke proudly as she neared the first pole and new anger flashed up in her.

Jessica’s pussy already felt raw from this first leg of her journey, and the insides of her legs ached from the constant effort of keeping herself upright in the torturous boots. It wouldn’t have been as bad if she wasn’t almost continuously forced to rely on the rope for additional support, causing her to ride harder against it than her sore flesh desired. Reaching the first pole, she tried to concentrate harder on balancing in the boots alone, to relieve some of the pain. It was a difficult task, and she was reminded of why she had quit ballet those years before. The boots, in their own way, actually helped a little, giving her a broader platform than just the toes on which to rest, and supplying some support. However, it was still a huge adjustment to get used to walking with her toes pointing straight down and without the support of her heels.

“Soon, you’ll be high-stepping with pride, my luscious little pony.” Her captor spoke, his eyes beaming, as he walked her inch her way up to the first post.

Moving onto the post, Jessica took a moment to recover, able to relax slightly by pressing the insides of her thighs and calves against the cool metal and sitting down slightly on its rounded top. The cool metal against her ragged pussy was a welcome change from the rough rope, and she sobbed softly in relief, dreading the next step back out onto the rope.


She stepped forward instantly as he began to count, wobbling at the sudden movement, but keeping her balance. She winced as the rope bit into her flesh once more. Walking along the rope, she tested the bonds that held her hands up behind her again, knowing that there would be no escape, but seeking to focus on something besides the continuing attack of the rope. Tugging on the locks that held her mittens to the harness, she could feel the straps on her chest around her breasts dig deeper into her skin.

The morning became a blur of pain and exertion for Jessica as she struggled to make her way around the rope circle. As she got better at maneuvering in the boots, the rope itself became less torturous since she didn’t need to press so hard against it. It was still a constant presence, however, sliding along her aching flesh. As she progressed, the knots remained her greatest enemy, the tension of the rope driving them into her and attacking her clit. She trembled visibly at the approach of them, and struggled to get past them as quickly as possible.

Each pole was like an oasis, a tranquil island of peace in the turbulent sea that was the rope circle. She paused as long as her captor would allow at each one, relishing the soothing cool of the metal and slight rest for her legs. In time, she grew bolder, waiting until he reached ‘two’ on the dreaded countdown before thrusting herself forward. As she continued her journey, Jessica’s legs began to tremble from the exertion. She gradually began to stumble more often as the strength of her legs started to give out, forcing her to once again press against the rope for support.

Jessica’s whole body seemed to cry out simultaneously, exhausted and ready to collapse. She felt thin, not with regard to weight, but in a more metaphysical sense; stretched thin and close to her breaking point. She knew that she desperately needed sleep and she was hungry and thirsty, too. Her lower body ached from this cruel torture, and she felt the need to pee starting to build in her bladder. All of it together made her want to give in, to collapse into sleep on the spot, but the fear of another touch of the cattle prod kept her inching forward slowly.

“Stop.” He ordered, and she winced as she stopped with one of the knots wedged inside her.

Panting, she pressed her trembling thighs together and leaned reluctantly into the rope and knot for support.

“It’s time for your test, princess.” He spoke from somewhere behind her, out of her field of vision. “Before you take it, though, you should know what is at stake. If you are clear-headed enough to understand me, stomp your left hoof once.”

With some effort, leaning more into the rope with a strangled whine, Jessica stomped her left foot and then waited. She felt her captor’s hand on her shoulder, standing close behind her now. Drawing her back against him, he placed a hand on her right breast and began to fondle it gently.

“Good girl.” He whispered in her ear. “From now on, when I ask you a question, one stomp will mean ‘yes’, and two will mean ‘no.’ Understood?”

Face red with humiliation and anger, but willing to bare it if it meant getting through this ordeal, Jessica stomped her foot once again.

“This stable breeds two types of ponies, princess.” He continued, absently twirling her nipple between thumb and forefinger. “And it’s up to you which type of pony you will become.”

On the verge of more tears, brought on by the casual way he groped her body and the way he talked about making her a pony, Jessica forced herself to remain calm. The constant restraint was already getting to her, and it hadn’t even been a day yet. She couldn’t imagine what sort of condition she would be in by the time her father made good on the ransom demands. He couldn’t really plan to keep her bound like this for days, could he?

“The first, less talented ponies, are suitable for hard labor.” His hand wandered down to her belly, leaving her breast at last to play with the rings on her harness. “Since they’re not as valuable, they get food and shelter that are appropriate for their worth. Do you want to see where such ponies live?”

Panting hard through her nose, Jessica stomped her foot twice.

“No matter.” He chuckled, lifting her off the rope to her great relief and setting her back down on the floor. “I want to show you anyways.”

He squatted for a moment, leaving her limited field of vision, and she heard the slight rattle of chain. She groaned in frustration as the rattle of chain was followed by a familiar ratcheting sound, and then she felt the press of something tight against her ankles through the leather of the boots. Once again, she realized, her captor was taking no chances with her. Rising again, he placed a broad arm around her shoulder and began to lead her slowly forward. In the last unexplored section of the old building, she saw a pair of stables built against the wall. He led her to the doorway of the first, and her eyes went wide at the sight of what was within.

“The draft ponies, those laborers I mentioned, tend to be a little more unruly, so they need to be kept quite secure.” He explained as her eyes took in the horrible little room. “And when draft ponies are allowed out of their room, it’s only to work hard at the wheel, which I think you saw earlier.”

Inside the stable, she thought she was looking into a medieval torture chamber, only with a floor covered in hay. Heavy metal chains dangled from various spots on the walls, as well as other cruel-looking whips and paddles. A rough wooden post, square in shape and about as high as her chest, was set in the center of the floor, and it was set with numerous rings and leather straps as well. Against another wall was a large wooden frame in the shape of an ‘x’ with leather straps set in at the end of each arm, and dangling from its center. Two troughs sat on the floor, one filled with water and the other with what looked like some kind of porridge. Though nothing appeared appetizing about the gruel, her stomach grumbled at the sight of it.

“It’s a rough life for a draft pony, princess.” He continued after pausing to let her wide eyes take in the full spectrum of the room. “Would you like to be one?”

Jessica quickly stomped her foot twice, using the support of her captor’s arm around her shoulder.

“I didn’t think so.” He chuckled, turning her and leading her toward the other stable opening. “It’s a hard life, bound so tight all night, and working hard all day.”

The next opening revealed a starkly different room that the first. It was painted in a pale pink, and the floor was carpeted. In one corner, there was some kind of mattress piled with soft pillows. In place of troughs, there was a low table, on which an empty plate and bowl rested. She thought she felt her bladder spasm, yearning for release, at the sight of a white porcelain toilet in the corner. Tellingly, though, she saw a pink leather collar sitting on the bed-pillows, attached to the wall next to it with a long chain. While this room lacked much of the horror of the previous stall, she recognized that she would find no true freedom here.

“Some ponies, special ones, get to be show ponies.” He drew her in closer, rubbing her upper arm as he spoke. “It takes hard work to be worthy, but those who are chosen live much better lives than the draft ponies. Instead of hard labor, they practice their showmanship, and their beautiful bodies are pampered in their off hours. If you work hard and practice your high-stepping, you might just get to be a showpony, princess. Would you like that?”

Trembling with rage at the way he talked about her future, Jessica brought her foot down once hard, paused for only a moment, and then brought it down again. If she could have spoken, she’d have told the sick bastard exactly what he could do with his little pony fantasy-world, but she had to settle for this other form of defiance, turning down both of his offers. She felt his grip tighten on her arm, and then he turned her roughly to face him, his eyes cold slits behind the mask.

“Then draft pony it is, princess.” He hissed angrily. “You don’t get to take the test today, which means you’ll be working for the rest of the day, and spending your night at the post.”

Jessica cried out with clenched teeth as he turned her and hurried her across the room, stumbling with the short chain between her ankles, to one of the large wooden cogs she had seen set in the floor when she first arrived. Closer to it now, she could see a ponderous stone wheel set beneath it, and that the arms of the cog had been outfitted with rings and straps.

“Tonight, after you’ve spent the rest of the day turning this wheel, you can ask yourself if it was worth it.” He hissed as turned her back to one of the spokes of the cog. “When your limbs are so sore you can’t stand, and then when I beat you until you pass out in pain, you can decide whether or not you’d like to try to qualify for the show pony life. Maybe, I’ll give you another chance tomorrow.”

Jessica breathed hard through her nose, a flutter running through her belly at his words, and as she felt him attach leather straps to the midpoints of her bare thighs. As he moved up her body, attaching more straps from the cog to rings on her hips, back, and then to the back of her head harness, she leaned forward against them, using them to help balance in the hoof-boots. When the rest of the straps were attached, she felt him remove the cuffs from her ankles. She tried to relax, to save what was left of her meager stores of energy for the trial that no doubt was before her. Her captor stepped into her view again, holding the cattle-prod again.

“The cog that you’re attached to doesn’t move without your help, princess.” He spoke, his voice icy, as he worked, attaching the handle of the prod, its point gratefully facing away from her, to a metal arm that also projected from the center of her cog. “This arm, however, moves independently of what you do.”

“Hhuck Hyou” Jessica groaned with clenched teeth, the bit in her mouth robbing her curse of most of its impact.

“Maybe later, beautiful.” He winked at her as he finished attaching the prod in place. “The arm is set to move in the same direction as you, and at a speed which I consider quite reasonable.”

He pressed a button on the arm and stepped back to watch as the prod began to move slowly forward, away from the bound girl’s trembling body. Breathing deep, trying to gather her strength, Jessica leaned further into the straps that held her.

“If you work steady, and at a reasonable pace, you won’t even know that the prod is there.” He returned to her side and gave her ass a hard swat. “If you stop, however, or work too slowly, it will catch up with you. I think you remember what that feels like.”

Laughing, he pinched her ass hard, and she squealed into the gag. She watched as the prod slowly moved away from her, knowing that before long it would circle around and reach her from behind unless she got moving. Bracing herself, she pressed forward with her legs, straining to get the cog in motion, but it remained immobile. Panting through her nose, biting down hard on the metallic bit, she thrust herself into the work, pulling at her braces with all of her might. Still, the cog and its stone wheel remained still. Sobbing, she collapsed in the straps, her body coated in sweat and shaking from the exertion.

“Oh, I’m sorry, pet.” The man in black chuckled. “Did I forget to take the brake off?”

Laughing, he pulled a lever, and Jessica heard a clicking sound. When she pulled at the straps again, the cog moved, albeit slowly and with great resistance. Pressing her reluctant legs back into service, she drove the cog, trying to keep the moving arm that held the prod in sight in front of her. It was hard to find the right stride to draw the heavy cog behind her. The damned boots didn’t give her a lot of solid purchase with which to pull, and if she tried to lean too much into the braces and pull with whole body, the attachment to the reins on her head threatened to pull the vile bit back further into her mouth. She discovered that, with the straps on her thighs, it helped to lift her legs up higher as she walked, to get the most use out of those muscles that could be the most effective at pulling. She wondered if this was what he had meant when he talked about ‘high-stepping?’

As she labored, she noticed a couple video-cameras that were set up to take in her Herculean effort, tucked behind a ceiling supports, a red light glowing on each, telling her that they were recording. Was that the next step for her father if he failed to cooperate? Send him a picture of his little girl all done up like a horse and being subjected to hard labor? In other circumstances, she might have laughed at the thought, wondering if her cold and distant father might have thought that some hard work would do her good. Even when he called her ‘princess,’ his nickname for her that had now been usurped by her kidnapper, it sounded cold, more like he was saying it because he felt like a father should than because he actually held her in any special regard. She wondered how he was reacting to all of this. Had he gone to the police? Would he agree to pay the kidnapper’s ransom? Or would he take his chances with the authorities. A part of her expected the latter, and she shuddered at the thought.

Forcing her mind off the painful subject of her father, but not wanting to spend any time thinking about the trials which her sweaty, huffing and puffing body was going through, she focused instead on the idea of the video-cameras. She realized that the red lights she had seen the night before in bed must have been more of the cameras, watching her as she was abused on the nasty cot. The turning motion of the cog and its location in the room gave her a better view of the building’s contents than she had previously had. As she turned, she looked for more cameras, and believed that she counted at least seven more, a couple of which were trained in the direction of her work now. She wondered why he had gone to the effort of installing so many. Surely, it wouldn’t take such an array of equipment just to send a tape to scare her father. And, if all of these video-cameras were in place, why did he use the still cameras the night before? Why not just send him a video.

Panting for air, her legs burning from the constant exertion of pulling the heavy wheel, Jessica whined softly as she noticed that the cattle-prod was no longer in view in front of her. She hadn’t been paying attention to it, and realized only now that she must have dropped her pace while her mind wandered and allowed it to get far enough ahead that it was now approaching her from behind. Groaning, she dug harder into the straps, forcing her aching muscles and burning lungs to pick up the pace. She tried to turn enough to see where it might be behind her, how close to catching her, but the collar on her neck would not allow it.

The imagined approach of the wicked prod gave her new energy for a time, propelling her legs forward on adrenaline and fear. It began to wane, however, after a few minutes of frenzied pulling did not bring its carrying arm back into view before her. Knowing that she couldn’t keep up the increased pace for long, she settled back into what she thought had been her original pace, praying that it would be enough to avoid being caught. Jessica felt like her entire body was on the edge of disaster, the muscles in her tanned, sweating legs on the verge of cramping, her jaw throbbing from the long effort of biting down on the bit. Her throat was dry, her lips cracked, and her insides were a confused and angry blend of her stomach’s demanding hunger and her bladder’s pressing need for release.

The turning of the cog gave her a view into the inside of the show pony stall once in every rotation, followed by a view of the one which would be her home for the night. The pillows seemed to be beckoning to her from across the room, reminding her of just how desperately she wanted to put her head down and sleep. She sobbed softly, chest heaving, as she pulled against her straps, wanting release in any form more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life. Her life before this place seemed almost dream-like in its absurdity. She could remember just a few days before crying because her father had rented out the Sheraton instead of the Marriott for her ‘surprise’ birthday party. She’d spend the rest of her life living in that moment if it would get her out of this place.

The cattle prod struck Jessica in the center of her lower back, the tap of its prongs to either side of her spine. While some part of her had been expecting it ever since it had first left her view, the wicked shock still caught her by surprise. She bucked forward away from it, screaming in pain and releasing her grip on the bit in her mouth, its intruder plunging itself into her throat. Collapsing in the straps that held her as her legs finally gave out, Jessica bent forward, her body overcome by dry heaves and painful retching as she struggled to get the bit back into place.

When the charged prongs hit her again, a devastating jolt to the side of her hip as she twisted in the straps, it was too much for Jessica to stand. She lost all conscious control of her body as she convulsed under the assault, gagging and heaving as her bladder let loose, hot piss spraying down her legs. Screaming in agony, she fought desperately to get the cog moving again, to get enough control of herself to move ahead before the prod struck again, but her body would not respond. Trembling, shaking spastically, she waited for the next assault of the prod.

“Now that you know what the stakes are, why don’t we reset things, princess?” Her captor asked, coming to walk back around in front of her from the other side of the cog, pushing the prod arm ahead of him.

Slowly recovering, the bit finally pushed back into place, Jessica sobbed as he moved the arm back where she could see it. She could taste bile in her mouth, and feel the spit drying on her chin and breasts. The acrid stench of her own urine reached her nose as she took her feet once more, and she could feel its wetness on the insides of her thighs.

“I see we had a little accident, didn’t we?” He asked cruelly as she struggled to regain her composure, blushing crimson, having just pissed all over herself in front of him. “Maybe you’re not show pony material after all.”

She closed her eyes, taking the time afforded to her now to gather what strength she could before he started up the arm again. She opened them again when she felt his hand on her wet thigh, and then watched him as he brought his urine-soaked hand up to her face. She wrinkled her nose, trying to pull away to no avail. He placed the wet hand over her face and mouth, covering them as he leaned in to whisper in her ear while she held her breath.

“Next time, if you warn me, I’ll catch it in a cup and let you drink it.” He hissed in her ear. “I bet you’d drink it right now, as thirsty as you must be. If not now, then tomorrow definitely.”

Laughing, he took his hand away, wiping it off on her breasts before pushing the button on the arm again and setting it in motion. Without waiting a moment, Jessica pressed her worn body into service again, driving it forward as best she could to follow the threatening prod. Getting the wheel back into motion was almost more than her tortured body could stand, but she finally made it happen, matching the arm’s pace when it had only gained a little ground on her.

“Oh, and princess…” Her captor called out over his shoulder as he walked away. “Remember that, after you’re finished here and have been hit with that prod a few more times, I am going to take you back to your stall and make you scream and cry tears you didn’t think you had left.”

Sobbing, she continued to follow the arm, trying not to think of what was to come and to focus instead on making his prediction about the cattle prod not come true. The words rang in her ears, though, and almost made her give up on the attempt of the moment. What was the point, a small but dangerous part of her mind asked. There was no way to avoid the tortures to which he was subjecting her. Why fight it? She quelled those thoughts, telling herself that giving up was exactly what he wanted, ‘breaking’ her, as he had put it. As long as she kept fighting him, there was a chance of escape, and of living through this hell on earth.

Despite her captor’s predictions, Jessica was not struck again by the cattle prod before he returned. Though her legs felt like they were made of rubber and breathing had become a loud, constant wheeze, she managed to force herself into the repetitive motion of keeping pace with the motorized arm. She had lost track of how many rotations she had made seemingly hours before, and was actually surprised when her captor moved into her field of vision and stopped the arm, having long ago assumed that he was never going to return. When she stopped, too, her body gave out under her. She fell back against the cog arm to which she was attached, mostly supported by her straps. She could feel the muscles of her legs tightening.

“Good girl.” He whispered softly, coming to her side and caressing her trembling thigh. “I’m proud of you, princess. I thought you were made of softer stuff than that.”

She stared at the ground as she dangled in the straps, taking deep, shuddering breaths. She felt his hands move over her legs, caressing and kneading some life back into them. As much as she despised him, the massaging of her legs felt like heaven and she moaned softly. After all too short a time, she felt and heard the return of the cuffs to her ankles, and then the gradual release of the cog-straps from her body. He moved carefully, gently lowering her onto her knees when she was freed from the wheel, and then moving behind her to unlock her wrists from where they were attached between her shoulder blades.

“On all fours.” He ordered, and she sobbed with relief as her arms were freed from the painful position.

Falling to all fours next to him, pins and needles leapt to life inside her arms as they finally came from behind her back. With the posture collar still in place, she could only look at the floor while she knelt like some kind of animal, and she was grateful that she couldn’t look up to see her captor’s eyes. Her captor squatted down next to her and she watched as he attached a short chain to each of her mittens. Instead of attaching the two mittens together with them, though, he locked the other end of each to a ring on the front of her body harness, between and slightly above her breasts, first forcing her to bend her elbows about halfway, the chains ensuring that she would not be able to straighten them again on their watch.

Before the night before, it would never have occurred to her that there could be so many ways to tie someone up, or that anyone would ever have need for them if there were. And yet here she was, in yet another strange position, though she had to admit that she much preferred this one to almost all of the other she had experienced. Her hands, though trapped in their mittens, were in front of her instead of behind, which felt less confining even if she had to keep them within about a foot of her neck. Her legs were another matter, of course, in the ridiculous boots and once again locked in cuffs, but it was better than when her feet had been tied to her thighs, at least a little. It felt strange to consider such things, but better than considering the prospect of what was to come in what he had called the ‘post room.’

“Let’s go, princess.” He ordered, giving her ass a hard swat with his bare hand.

She moved forward in the direction he pushed her, heading now toward that very stall. She could only stare at the floor as she crawled, ruling out the possibility of any sort of resistance, grateful that he seemed much more calm now than he had when she had first turned down the show pony room. It seemed silly now, trying to act defiant in such a meaningless way, but she supposed that hindsight was always twenty-twenty. Saying yes to being a show pony, in her mind, felt like saying yes to being a pony at all, and a part of her clung to the desire not to give in to him. She wondered, though, if she’d be able to find the courage to do it again, when the prospect of the cog loomed before her again.

Entering the stall, the hay scratched her knees as she crawled across it. He led her to the two troughs on the floor before stopping her. She groaned as she felt his weight on her as he sat down on her, straddling the small of her back like a saddle. The burden of his extra mass, however, did not diminish the excitement she felt when he reached down to remove the bit and rubber straps from her harness, allowing her to finally unclench her teeth without fear. While she slowly moved her jaw, wincing as it protested after its long confinement, she felt him remove the heavy collar from her neck and her head fell forward.

“You need some food and water, princess.” He said as he rose from her back, but only after clicking something in place on the back of her harness. “Eat and drink your fill, and I will see you in a little while. I have a couple things to prepare.”

Without waiting another moment, ignoring the humiliation of drinking from a trough, Jessica plunged her face into the water. The blinders, still attached to her head harness, dipped into the water as she lapped and sucked at it greedily. Her parched mouth felt rejuvenated by the cool water. Her thirst sated, she moved over to the food trough, more skeptical about what it contained. Carefully lowering her head into it at an angle that wouldn’t plunge any pieces of the harness into the stuff, she tasted a bit of the porridge with her lips and tongue. It was bland, tasting only of oats, but there was nothing to offend about it, so she ate. When she her fill, she moved back to the water trough, drinking again and using the water to wash the oatmeal residue from her chin.

Still sore, but feeling better than she had in some time, she turned over to sit in the hay, her back against the wall of the stall. Looking up, she saw that he had attached her back to a black rope that led up to a pulley attached to one of the exposed ceiling beams. When she moved it played out line, drawing it back in when she got closer to it. She was sure that it would not give her much slack to go far. Her mittened hands dangled in front of her, and she took this first opportunity to actually look at the mittens up close and see if there was any chance of removal. They had buckles like a belt on them, and she was hopeful for a moment that she might be able to open one with her teeth, but that hope dissipated when she saw that there were small locks on the buckles that prevented them from moving. Try as she might, they were not coming off.

Looking down over her body, she was disgusted by the state of her legs. She could feel the stickiness on them where her urine had dried, and she wanted to wash them off in the trough, but decided against it, unsure of when, if ever, he would be replacing its supply of water. She tugged angrily at the familiar handcuffs that imprisoned her ankles over the boots. As expected, there was no escaping from the devices in which she was held. Giving up on any chances of freedom, but making the most of the situation given her, she curled up on her side on the floor in the hay, resting her head on her mittened hands, and let her exhaustion sweep her away.

Chapter Four – The Test

Jessica woke with an exhausted sob, crying out pathetically as she felt her body being dragged across the scratchy hay that covered the floor of her nightmarish prison. On her side as she was dragged, she struggled mightily against the restraints that held her so tightly, but they offered no mercy. Her body ached from the long confinement, and she yearned desperately for the oblivion of unconsciousness, the waking world promising only more horror.

“Did you have permission to sleep, Princess?” Her captor’s voice rasped threateningly above her, and she whimpered softly as she struggled to halt her slide, looking up to see him wearing the black mask again. “You’ll have to be punished for that.”

“No!” She screamed, hot tears stinging her eyes as she fought her way onto her hands and knees, crawling after him as he pulled her by the rope that had leashed her to the ceiling earlier. “Please, don’t! Oh god… I’m so… I’m just so tired… I can’t handle this.”

Ignoring her cries, he led her into a shower stall that was tucked behind the stable. Its polished white tiles were cool beneath her knees as she entered. Exhausted, panting for air, she fought desperately to hold back the hysteria that threatened to overwhelm her as she saw more chains and cuffs attached to the ceiling, walls, and floors. As the pace of her breathing increased, she felt her hold on her sanity slipping. This couldn’t be happening to her. This insane world could not be reality.

“Since I’ve got to get you cleaned up anyways, we’ll just kill two birds with one stone in here.” He spoke, raising his voice slightly above her crying, and her body spasmed as closed a rusted, heavy iron cuff around her booted ankle, its chain leading to a ring bolted to the floor.

“Don’t! NO!” Jessica shrieked hysterically, the heavy chain rattling softly as she yanked at it in terror and frustration.

Jessica kicked out wildly at her captor as he released the handcuffs with their short chain from her ankles. Deflecting the blow of her hoofed boot with one hand, he grabbed her ankle with the other, yanking it out from under her so that her ass came down hard on the floor. Screaming helplessly, she could only watch through eyes blurred by tears as he closed a matching cuff around her other ankle.

“Pleeeeaaaase…” Jessica groaned between gasping sobs. “Don’t do this. Just… Just… Just let me go-oh.”

With her ankles locked in place, Jessica’s captor grabbed her arm and lifted her up on to wobbly legs. Trembling with fear, she looked up into his cold eyes as he steadied her for a moment. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a strangled sob escaped her. Misery held her like a living entity, robbing her of any thoughts but itself, overwhelming her with its strength. Unlocking her mitten-shrouded left hand from the chain that kept it close to her chest, he stretched her arm out toward one of the walls, gathering a cuff and chain from that wall, and bringing the two to meet. The cuff closed around her wrist, locking it in place.

“Daddy will definitely want pictures of shower time, won’t he, Princess?” He spoke cruelly as he repeated the process with her right hand, the chains now holding her standing spread wide inside the gleaming white stall.

Jessica didn’t answer, struggling instead to get a hold of herself as he slowly began to remove the leather harness from her head. She focused on one word; Daddy. It was a reminder to her that there was an end in sight to this house of horrors. Her father would pay him, and then the sick fuck would let her go. His hands moved over her body as he removed the straps of her harnesses, freeing her head and torso of their tight grip. She could see the angry red lines it had left in the soft flesh of her upper body.

“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” Jessica stammered, fighting to regain control of herself as the leather was removed from her.

Though the harness on her upper body had offered her body no real concealment, she still regretted its loss, blushing as the full exposure of this spread position became uncomfortably obvious to her. Wearing only the mittens and boots now, she rattled the chains that held her arms and legs wide. Her small breasts trembled with each shuddering breath. She shook her head gently, trying to shake free her matted hair as it clung to her cheeks.

“C-can you please take these things off my hands?” She asked softly, her captor’s silence un-nerving. “I can’t… I can’t feel my – Oh FUCK!”

Jessica’s quiet plea was replaced by a shocked scream as the shower head opened above her, releasing a torrent of freezing water down onto her body. She convulsed, gasping as she tried to catch her breath as her chest constricted under the frigid flow. She jerked in the un-giving chains, crying out as the touch of a rough-bristled brush was added to the water’s caress. Holding the long-handled brush in both hands, her captor vigorously scoured her body. Her skin burned where the soapy head of the brush ravaged her soft flesh.

She nearly collapsed as the brush plunged between her legs, its wielder oblivious to her cries as he tortured her most sensitive flesh with its rough bristles. She fought desperately against the chains, squirming helplessly, as the cruel brush explored every inch of her exposed flesh. Jessica closed her mouth and lips, whining in protest as he raked it across her face and neck. Through it all, the cold spray of water rained down on her, making her teeth chatter and wracking her slender body with shivers.

When the flow of water finally stopped, and the brush ceased its attack, Jessica could only collapse in her bonds, her body held aloft by the chains as she shook with cold. Lips blue, the flesh of her body red, she looked up pleadingly at her captor as he stepped in close to her. Instinctively, she pressed close against him, her body desperate for the warmth of his as he wrapped an arm around her, his hand coming to rest casually on her bare ass.

“Now, I’d imagine that would have been a bad enough experience on its own, Princess, but you’ve gone and made it worse by earning some punishment.” He spoke softly, his voice almost a whisper, and her ass clenched as his hand explored it. “Though, you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself about earning it. To be honest, I’d have been probably been too unable to avoid the temptation of whipping you anyways, all strung up like you are.”

“Wh-whipping… m-m-me?” Jessica stammered through chattering teeth. “N-no.. please… I’ll… I’ll do… anything.”

“Anything? Will you beg me to fuck you up the ass then?”

The words came from his mouth so casually that they stunned her, and she could only look up at him with wide eyes. Gasping, she shifted forward slightly, as much as the chains allowed, as she felt one of his fingers slip between her smooth asscheeks, its tip coming to rest against her anus.

“What about it, Princess?” He hissed cruelly, the finger twisting as it pressed against her tight rosebud. “Would you rather I just shove my cock up inside your ass?”

“Don’t! Get away from me!” Jessica shrieked, her voice echoing in the enclosed tile stall, as she struggled to avoid the press of his finger.

“You see. They always say that they’ll do anything.” He whispered, removing his hand from her ass. “But only until they find out what that really means.”

Jessica hung from the chains, sobbing uncontrollably. She wanted to curl up in a corner, to hug herself for warmth, and to forget the cruel reality of this place, but the cuffs on her wrists and ankles held her wide and helpless. Bone weary, sore and cold, she couldn’t imagine undergoing any more of his torture.

“P-please.” Jessica sobbed softly, her voice interrupted by terrified gasps. “Don’t do … this. Don’t … do this … to me.”

When she saw him raise the slender rod with which he had struck her on that first fateful evening, Jessica squirmed helplessly in her bonds. The leather of her mittens creaked as she pulled desperately against the heavy cuffs that held her open to the approach of the rod. Tears streamed from her eyes as she watched him raise it high.

“Oww! Fuck!” Jessica screamed as the tip of the slender rod came down hard across her breast, throwing her head back as she cried out. “Oh God, it hurts!”

She shook futilely in her bonds as he lashed her cruelly with the rod, strikes raining down across her breasts and stomach. Sobbing hysterically, she could do nothing to avoid or repel his attack as he worked over her body. She watched as angry red welts began to rise on her flesh under his brutal assault. When he finished, dropping the rod to the tile floor with a clatter, she was barely clinging to consciousness, dangling in the chains. She winced as he stepped in close to her again, running his hands over the marks of the lashing on her trembling body. She could feel his hard cock pressed against her bare hip, straining to break free of his black pants.

“Are you ready for your test, Princess?” He whispered softly as he continued to fondle her body. “Would you like to see if you might be show pony material?”

Sobbing, she nodded her head in answer, eyes downcast, watching his fingers on her body. Smiling, he released the cuffs from her wrists. She didn’t resist as he drew her hands behind her back and locked the rings of her mittens together. Bending over, he released her ankles from their cuffs as well, and she was able to bring her legs together. Without the support of the chains, it was more difficult to keep her balance in the boots, and she wobbled slightly before gaining her footing. With a hand firmly on her upper arm, he led her out of the shower and to the open area in the center of the room. Where before had stood the bathtub and other implements of her torture, now there were a trio of copper tubes, set up parallel to the ground and to each other. The two outside tubes were a couple feet apart from each other, and held aloft at about waist level. The one between them was closer to the ground, set at perhaps mid-thigh.

“You will get three tries to high-step to the other side, Princess.” Her captor spoke, grinning as he led her to stand at one end of the tubes. “If you fail all three times, you return to the wheel.”

“High-step?” Jessica asked quietly, her voice a whimper, stepping forward at her captor’s direction to stand straddling the center tube with the other two on her sides.

“Yes, Princess.” He smiled, pushing her hair back out of her eyes, and lifting her leg until her thigh was parallel to the ground, knee bent. “With each step, these beautiful thighs must come at least this high.”

“L-like… like a show pony.” She whimpered softly, feeling new tears beginning to well in her eyes.

“Exactly like a show pony, Princess.” He set her foot back down as he spoke. “If you touch any of the poles, or if you don’t finish within 15 seconds, the run is disqualified.”

“I’m not… I’m not… You can’t make me an animal.” She sobbed, mind focusing in with laser precision on exactly what she was submitting to.

“Oh, but I can, Princess.” He grinned, giving her ass a firm swat. “It’s already begun.”

Jessica turned away from him to look ahead at the distance before her, steadying her trembling legs and perfecting her balance. She hated the thought of it, and what it signified, but she needed to do this in order to avoid another turn at the wheel. As tired as she already was, she couldn’t conceive of the idea of trying to push it and avoid its wicked shocks again.

“Begin.” Her captor announced.

She raised her foot carefully, lifting it as he had demonstrated and quickly stepping back down a little ahead of where it started as she began to lose her balance. Slightly off kilter, she lifted her other foot, teetering as it came to its proper height. As she brought it down, the inside of her thigh brushed the copper tube between her legs, and she cried out in pain as a jolt of electricity seared her. Jerking away from the touch of the pole caused her to bump her hip against the outside pole on that side. Screaming in pain and frustration as she continued to jerk under the assaults of the poles, she struggled to calm herself. A thin sheen of sweat coated her body as she finally came to rest straddling the pole again without touching it, panting for breath as she sobbed.

“That’s one attempt lost, Princess.” Her captor spoke from across the room. “And you haven’t even made any headway.”

“You fucking son of a bitch!” She half screamed, half sobbed at his words, shaking with anger.

“Awww… poor Princess.” He laughed. “But is this really how you want to spend the time for your second attempt?”

Sobbing, beads of perspiration forming on her petite body, she started to move quickly, taking the first two steps forward. Terrified of the pole between her legs, she kept her legs as wide as she could, making it even harder to balance. Teetering with each step, she cried out in fear as she tumbled sideways into the right rail, another jolt leaping into her flesh as she screamed. This time, she forced herself not to react so flailingly to the blow, avoiding more contact with the center pole.

“This time you’ll have to back up, Princess. You’ll need to start from the beginning.”

Whimpering softly, she backed up slowly, shuffling her feet more than walking, until she was back at the starting point. She gasped as a drip of sweat fell from between her thighs and onto the highly charged bar between her legs, a slight tingle of electricity traveling instantaneously up it and into her body at the sudden semi-contact.

“And, begin.”

Jessica surged forward at the command, concentrating on her balance and on the location of the poles, the first three steps coming down confidently. With each further step, however, she felt herself tipping forward, gradually losing control of her high steps. Halfway down the pipe, her hoofed toe came down wrong, pitching her forward. The bare lips of her pussy hit the pole between her legs and a primal scream ripped through her as she threw back her head. Instinctively, she brought her thighs together, clutching the tube to avoid falling further, but intensifying the surge of electricity that pulsed into her most sensitive area. Spasming, she unclenched her thighs with great difficulty, allowing herself to fall to the floor beneath the tubes with an uncomfortable thud. Twitching and shuddering, gasping for breath, she curled into a ball on the floor as she sobbed.

“It looks like you’ll have to try again another day, Princess.”

“No, please. Please don’t do this…”

Jessica screamed as he grabbed her hair and dragged her across the floor. She cursed him, nearly incoherently, her scalp burning with pain, as he pulled her after him. At the dreaded wheel, he lifted her painfully to her feet. She saw that the harness and straps were waiting there already.

“You knew I couldn’t do it, you sick son of a bitch.” She spat at him as he turned her roughly and began to wrap the leather harness once more around her body. “It’s impossible.”

“Such violence and anger out of such a nice little girl.” He laughed as he buckled the harness tightly back into place on her body, including the thick leather collar that so effectively controlled her neck. “And yes, I was pretty sure that you couldn’t do it, at least not yet.”

“God damn it, why are you doing this to me?!” She shrieked as she felt him apply the head harness to her, with its wide blinders. “He’ll pay you. I swear, he’ll pay you. You don’t have to do this.”

“And what if I told you, Princess, that I don’t expect him to pay me?” He hissed in her ear as he attached her straps to the arm of the wheel.

“Wh-what do you mean?” She whimpered. “He will. He won’t leave me like this.”

“But what if I told you that I wasn’t going to even ask?”

“What?” She jerked against the straps, eyes wide. “But why not?”

Finished strapping her in place, once more bound to the spoke of the wheel, he ran his hands over her sweat-covered flesh and up to her lips, where he held the nasty metal bit in front of her mouth.

“I had meant to keep this little secret for later, Princess, but there is no ransom.”

“Then what the –Uuuhhhkkk” Her words were cut off by the thrust of the gag into her mouth, and she felt the pressure of the heavy rubber bands return a moment later, forcing her to once again clench her teeth on the hard metal.

“Dear old Daddy already paid me, little Jessie.” He whispered to her, his hot breath on her ear. “He paid me to get rid of his little problem child.”

Sobbing, Jessica shook her head as much as the stiff collar allowed, refusing to believe his words.

“You see, Princess, you’re mine now.” He groped her breasts roughly with his hands. “No one is looking for you, and we’re going to have quite a lot of fun together. But I’ll leave you digest all that.”

Stepping away from her, he set the wheel in motion once more, the prod-loaded arm beginning to move away ahead of her. Sobbing, Jessica threw herself against the leather harness, heaving it forward with great effort. As she began her exhausting trek, she found herself somehow grateful for the work, allowing her to concentrate on something other than his last words to her. Could it be true? No, her father couldn’t have done this to her, of that she was sure. But what about the ransom? She trembled at the thought. Was he really planning to keep her?

Chapter Five – The Introduction Video

Jessica’s mind was a hazy web of exhaustion and misery, her legs trembling like a bowl of Jell-O, when her time at the wheel finally came to an end. She had long ago lost any semblance of an understanding of time, concentrating only on driving as hard as she could against the traces that bound her. Twice, the prod had caught her, stinging her harshly, though she took some satisfaction from the fact that she had managed to drive away from it after each blow, instead of collapsing as she had done previously. Her arduous journey to nowhere finally at an end, she could only dangle in the straps as her captor released her, gathering her limp body up into his arms and carrying her so easily.

She was barely conscious, sweat-soaked and bone-weary, as he set her down gently on a soft, padded table. She wanted nothing more than to sink into the soft material and sleep, but he kept her moving, turning her this way and that as he gradually removed the many leather straps from her body. When she was wearing only the boots and mittens once more, he turned her onto her stomach and drew her arms behind her back. She winced as she heard the familiar ratcheting sound and felt the cold steel cuffs close on her wrists.

“Do you think you can be a good girl tonight?” Her captor asked, his hand on her bare arms, rubbing them softly. “I have an easy night in mind for you, if you can behave.”

“Please, I just want to go home.” Jessica sobbed helplessly, feeling utterly spent. “I can’t… I can’t take it any more. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be tied up any more.”

“If you’re going to make it, Princess, you’re going to have to stop looking at the big picture.” He responded, his voice soothing and gentle, his hands moving to massage her shoulders. “You need to focus on the bearable moments that you will be afforded from time to time, and learn to live for those.”

“But how?” She sobbed, her body heaving. “You told me you’re never going to let me go. There’s no ransom. There’s no way home. You’re… you’re turning me into some kind of sick animal.”

“Would you like me to take the mitts off your hands?” His hands moved down over her sides as he spoke, caressing her smooth hips. “And the boots off your feet?”

“Oh God yes, please.”

“That’s how, Princess.” He continued softly as he began to unbuckle the straps on her wrists. “Don’t think of leaving here. Don’t think of home. Think instead of the times here that will be better than others.”

Jessica sobbed with relief as she felt the tight leather mittens come free of her hands. Her fingers ached from the long confinement as she slowly spread them. The pain and discomfort was a small price to pay, however, to have her hands back, though still locked in handcuffs behind her back.

“Thank you. Oh, thank you.” She sobbed, genuinely grateful.

“If you can be a good girl tonight, you will be only lightly bound for the evening.” He told her as he began to unlace her boots. “And you’ll be given some actual clothing to wear. Would you like that, Princess?”

“Yes, please.” She answered softly as he removed the first boot.

“Then, you can be a good girl?” He moved to her second foot as she stretched the first, feeling the arch threatening to cramp when she started to un-point her toes.

“I will. I’ll be good.”

Finished with the second boot, leaving her only wearing the cuffs now, he lifted her again. She huddled against him as he carried her across the room, her body trembling with exhaustion and chill, so desperate for precious sleep and yet kept awake by fear of what was to come. She opened her eyes again when he stopped, and her body tensed as she saw that she was being lowered into the familiar porcelain tub. She was overwhelmed with relief as the water within turned out to be hot.

“See, Princess?” He whispered softly, noting her relief, as he began to wash her body with a soft sponge. “It doesn’t all have to be bad.”

Jessica watched as he washed her with a lathered sponge, scared but grateful for the gentle touch and the soothing water. He lifted her smooth legs, and she held herself upright with her cuffed hands against the bottom of the basin as he ran the soapy sponge up and down her thighs and calves. His gentle touch was both welcome and frightening, and her naked state was made more pronounced than ever by the way he touched her. She tensed, whimpering softly, as the sponge slid beneath the surface of the water and began to glide between her legs.

“You need to relax, Princess.” He cooed as he spread her legs slightly, and glided the sponge over the lips of her pussy. “Don’t think about what is happening, and how the old you would have reacted. Concentrate on how it feels, and how it soothes you. Enjoy the moment while it is here.”

Closing her eyes, Jessica tried to send her mind somewhere else as the sponge continued to roam over her body. It felt wonderful, the water seeming to wash away the brutal tortures of her captivity. She didn’t resist as he gently lowered her hair into the water and caressed her scalp as he shampooed her. Lying in the steaming water, her sweat and grime washing away, she could almost forget the tight cuffs on her wrists, and the fact that it was her kidnapper doing the washing.

“Have you ever acted, Princess?” He asked as he rinsed the shampoo from her hair and began to help her up onto her feet. “Been in a play?”

“A play?” She asked, the question seeming entirely out of place as she rose reluctantly to her feet. “I was in a few, for the High School Drama Club.”

“Oh good. That should be a big help to you then.” He smiled as he helped her step from the tub onto the cold concrete floor.

“Why? Help with what?” She shivered slightly as the spoke, chilled by the cool air and her damp state.

“You have a role to play now, Princess, and it’s a very important one.” He smiled down on her as he led her across the room, holding tight to her upper arm.

“What role?” She asked, feeling impossibly small as she walked next to him, still exhausted, but feeling better now that she was clean and so much less stringently bound.

“We’re going to make a little introductory video, Princess.” He continued as he led her back to where her introduction to this place had occurred, a sturdy wooden chair sitting in the center of the area, with a few video cameras pointing at it. On a nearby table, she saw a make-up case, a pile of clothes, towels, and a pair of soft brown suede sheepskin lined boots.

“An introduction to what?” She asked, her pace quickening.

“To your new website, of course, Princess.” He answered easily as they reached the table and he picked up a towel. “The preorders for membership have already been amazing. Your birthday party shots were quite a hit.”

“You posted… you posted pictures of… of… of what you did to me on the NET?!” She demanded angrily as he dried her body roughly with the towel.

“Oh no, Princess.” He laughed as he rubbed the towel across her breasts and stomach. “I sold pictures of you on the net. There’s a big difference, at least from my point of view.”

“You sick bastard… you can’t do this…” She trembled in outrage as he continued to dry her body, her wrists squirming in the tight metal cuffs. She wanted to run, to flee while her legs were free, but where would she go? How would she get out with her hands trapped behind her?

“Now now, Princess, is that any way to talk to me?” He glared at her as he towel-dried her hair and then dropped the towel on the table. “Besides, of course I can. I already did. But what’s important for you is that if you cooperate for the video, you get to spend some time dressed, sit at a table for dinner, and then sleep in a bed tonight.”

“And what do I have to do in the video?” She asked fearfully.

“Oh, nothing so terrible. You just need to convince whoever watches it that you are here of your own free will, that you enjoy these things, and that you’ve surrendered yourself to me for a one year period of bondage and training.”

“Wh-what?” She demanded. “No, I won’t do it!”

“Then I’ll hook you back up to the wheel and let the prod chase you until you change your mind.”

“God damn it! You can’t do this to me!” Jessica shrieked, hot tears streaming from her eyes as frustration filled her.

He drew her close to him, his fingers twined in her hair, her bare breasts heaving against his chest as she sobbed helplessly. His free hand slid down her back, coming to rest against the small of it, keeping her petite body pressed close to him.

“Just relax, Princess.” He spoke softly, soothingly. “Focus on how nice it will feel to have something to wear, even temporarily. What it will be like to be able to relax and have a nice dinner. And all in return for a few words.”

“But I don’t want… don’t want to stay here.” She sobbed, gasping for air between the words as depression overwhelmed her. “I just… I just…”

“You don’t have a choice, Princess. You can’t escape. You can’t resist me. You can only do the things that will make your stay here less horrible. You need to come to accept that.”

“But… but… it’s not… it’s not fair…” She choked on the words.

“Would you like to be dressed, Princess?”

Biting her lower lip, Jessica could only nod in response as she cried helplessly. She hated herself for accepting the offer, understanding what accompanied it, but the scared, realistic part of her mind realized that he was right. Resistance would only bring more pain, more time at the wheel, and she couldn’t bear the thought of it. He picked up a worn khaki skirt from the table and held it low so that she could step into it. Slowly, he drew it up her legs, his hands lingering on her thighs for a moment before he covered the tops of them with the soft, faded material. She winced as he buckled the skirt’s leather belt tightly around her waist, and then she heard the familiar click of a lock from behind her.

“It looks like a good fit, Princess.” He spoke, moving around in front of her to look at her as he smiled.

“A little tight.” She replied, looking down over the tiny skirt and the exposed flesh of her thighs. While it was definitely much more revealing than she would have normally worn, she couldn’t help but feel better to be, at least partially, covered.

“I’m sorry for that, Princess.” He chuckled softly as he lifted another pair of handcuffs from the table and approached her again. “But it will become necessary in a little while.”

Squatting down next to her and taking hold of one of her bare, slender ankles, he closed one of the open cuffs onto a ring set in the floor. She watched helplessly as he closed the other cuff onto over her ankle, the metal ratcheting closed tightly against her flesh. She tugged at the tight cuff, finding it as confining as ever, as he rose to his feet and opened the makeup case. Withdrawing a couple baby-wipes from it, he began to wipe her face, her nose wrinkling at the scent as he cleaned away her tears. She was silent as he applied make-up to her face, brushing blush onto her cheeks, and painting her lips and eyelids.

“You know, you really are a stunning young woman, Princess.” He spoke softly, and she was glad that she couldn’t see the look on his face, her eyes closed while he applied mascara to her lashes.

Jessica felt horribly vulnerable and helpless as her captor dressed and made up her face. As much as she hated the feeling of dependency, it made her feel that her humanity was returning to her, however, and she couldn’t help but feel that things were getting better for her. Perhaps, she told herself as he began to brush out her hair, she could convince him to continue this leniency. Perhaps she could bring the horrible pony games to an end.

“Th-thank you.” She whispered softly, shyly, as he finished with her hair and then unlocked her wrists.

“You’re welcome, Princess.” He smiled warmly at her, gazing into her eyes, and then handing her a piece of clothing. “Put that on.”

Opening the cloth, she discovered that it was a camouflage tank top, and she quickly slipped it over her head, its short hem leaving more than her bellybutton exposed. It felt so good to be dressed, albeit ridiculously, that she forgot the cuff on her ankle for a moment. An attempted step reminded her that any freedom she felt at the moment was only illusory. She watched her captor move to one of the waiting video cameras.

“Now, Princess, the critical thing about this exercise is that you make the camera believe that you are having a wonderful time throughout our little interview.” He told her, moving behind the camera to turn it to face her. “You must follow the instructions I give perfectly. If I don’t like how you come across the first time, we will repeat it until you get it right. If we don’t finish in a reasonable time, we will have to skip dinner. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Good. Now, let’s start with a playful little spin.” He ordered, and she saw the red light on the camera turn on.

She turned in place at his command, pivoting on her bound foot.

“Let’s try it again, Princess. This time, I need you to smile.”

Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile onto her lips, and spun around again. She tried to imagine that she was modeling a new outfit for some girlfriends, anyplace but here.

“Much better, Princess.” He smiled. “Now, one more time, but this time I want you to start in a pose with your arms up, and bring them down and behind you as you turn. End facing me with a smile, and with your hands behind your back.”

Steeling her resolve, she stood on her bound foot and pointed the toe of her other foot out slightly to the side, raising her arms above her head with her palms facing up as if she were holding up the ceiling. Winking at the camera and smiling as warmly as she could muster, she turned slowly, bringing her arms down behind her as he had instructed.

“That was perfect, Princess.” Her captor grinned broadly as he turned off the camera and returned to her, holding the other pair of cuffs in his hand, and picking up the suede boots along the way.

“Please, you don’t need those.” Jessica whimpered softly as he closed the cuffs on her wrists, locking them once again behind her back.

“It’s going to be very temporary, Princess.” He answered as he squatted down and removed the cuff from her ankle, placing the boots before her. “In a moment, you won’t be wearing any cuffs at all.”

He pointed to the boots, and she stepped into them, wriggling her toes in the soft furry interior. While she settled into them, he moved across the room to a camera that stood on a tripod behind the wooden chair. She turned to face him across the short distance.

“Now, I need you to walk to the chair, in as sexy and playful a fashion as you can imagine.” He spoke quickly, barely containing his excitement. “We’ll try this one a few times, so feel free to experiment. Pretend that you’re on a runway.”

He settled in behind the camera, and she saw its light come on. Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile again and strutted across the room to the chair. It was hard to feel sexy with her hands locked behind her back, but she did her best, bouncing her hips as she walked her sexiest walk.

“Very good, Princess.” He laughed, rustling her hair as she turned and sat on the seat. “Let’s try it again. This time, give me a pouting look instead of that beautiful smile of yours.”

She lost track of how many times he made her approach the chair, her displayed emotions ranging from angry to shocked to amused, but all the while only barely covering the fear and anger inside her. She tried desperately to give him exactly what he was looking for with each take, her belly beginning to rumble at the thought of the promised dinner.

“That will do, Princess, though I’ll have a hard time picking which one to use.” She sighed with relief at his words as she finally remained seated in the chair.

Behind her, she felt him tug at the belt, and then the click of a lock. A moment later, he removed the cuffs from her wrists. Trying to rise from the chair, she quickly discovered that the back of the belt was firmly locked to the chair, and that the chair did not move, somehow fastened to the ground. He walked out in front of her, bringing the camera and tripod with him, and placing it on the floor facing her.

“Now, Princess, we are going to have our interview.” He smiled as he set up the camera and tripod. “Instead of asking you questions, though, I will just tell you what to say. I figure it will save us some time and frustration. I want you to be very animated during this interview. Remember, you’re excited to be here. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” She answered softly, crossing her legs and adjusting the hem of the short skirt as the camera lens bared down on her.

“I want you to move around a lot, too.” He continued. “Lean forward when you should be getting really excited about something. Play with your hair. Cross and re-cross your legs.”

“O-okay.” She whispered as she saw the red light of the camera come on.

“Good, say hello to the camera, give a little wave, and tell me that your name is Sierra.” He began.

“Hi everyone.” She smiled as best she could, and gave the camera a little wave. “I’m Sierra.”

“Wonderful, Princess.” He smiled. “Now tell everyone that you’re a little nervous about what you’re getting into, but that you’re excited to get started.”

“Well, I’m a little nervous.” She spoke, letting her smile falter a little, and then return. “But I’m so excited to be here. I barely slept a wink last night.”

“Nice touch, Princess, and ironically true. If you keep that up, I’ll make tonight a very special night for you. Now, tell everyone that you decided to do this after you had so very much fun for your birthday party.”

“I guess that I decided to do this after my birthday party. It was just… just… so amazing that I had to come back for more.” She struggled for a moment to force the words out, the memory of the birthday torture still fresh in her mind, quickly improvising to try and salvage the moment. “I mean, it just totally blew my mind.”

“Now, I want you to have a little fun with this one, Princess. But first, when you were a little girl, did you ever play cowboys and Indians or Cops and Robbers with any of the neighbor kids or your relatives?”

“Well yeah, sure, we played cops and robbers some times.”

“Who did you play with?”

“My cousins, when they would come to visit.”

“And were you ever the robber?”


“Did they ever arrest you? Tie you up?”

“Well, yeah, I guess. I mean, it was a long time ago.”

“Okay, Princess.” He spoke softly, thinking carefully of what he wanted to say. “Now, I want you to tell me how you used to let them tie you up, how it made you feel strange things that you didn’t really understand, but that you knew felt good. I want you to talk as if you’re answering a question about when you first came to know that you liked being tied up.”

“But why? What’s the point of all this?”

“Just think about your answer, and then begin when you’re ready, Princess.”

Jessica uncrossed her legs slowly, keeping her thighs pressed together and running her fingers through her hair for a moment as she tried to figure out exactly what she would say. It felt dirty, somehow, talking about her childhood family experiences like this, and connecting them to this horrible place, but she wanted to prolong this relative freedom as long as she could. Though still a prisoner, locked to the chair, the freedom of her arms and legs made her want to cry out with relief.

“Wow, when did I first know?” She began, locking her gaze on the camera lens as she bent forward in the seat, hands on her knees.

She paused for a moment, trying to appear that she was lost in thought, cocking her head slightly before smiling again and then leaning back in the seat and crossing her legs and then hugging herself.

“I guess that I knew, on some level, back when I was about eleven, and my cousins would come to visit.” She continued slowly, trying to make it seem natural. “They were one and two years younger than me, and they always wanted to play cops and robbers. Somehow, I was always the robber, and I’d let them arrest me and put me in jail. It made me feel strange. I didn’t really understand what was going on, but I knew that I liked it.”

“Excellent, Princess.” He beamed with enthusiasm. “Now, I want you to tell me about how disappointed you were the time that you tried to run away and the plastic handcuffs on your ankles broke.”

She just looked at him for a moment, at first confused because no such event had ever occurred to her, and then realizing that he was talking about some event from his own past. She shuddered at the thought of who the real girl was who had worn the plastic cuffs in his childhood, and if she knew about how he had fixated on that moment. Was that why he had become a police officer? She realized that he was staring at her expectantly.

“I remember this one time…” She began slowly, trying to let the story build, to give the sick bastard what he wanted and get to dinner. “It was the last time that I ever played cops and robbers with them. They had put these silly plastic handcuffs on my hands, and on my feet. They had me in jail, which was really just the closet, but they left the door a little open.”

As she spoke, she sat upright in the chair, uncrossing her legs and bringing her booted feet together on the floor, her hands balled into fists, resting on her bare thighs as she looked down at them as if she was lost in thought. She paused for a moment in silence as if she were playing out the memory in her mind. When she looked up, she saw that her captor was staring back at her with a wild look in his eyes. She could tell that he was hanging on her every word, so she tried to play it up a bit more, feeling as though she had somehow found a weakness in his seemingly impenetrable hide.

“So, I tried to make a break for it.” She continued, looking back into the camera. “I wanted to see what it would feel like to shuffle along in the cuffs. I think that I was looking forward to being recaptured, too, and to seeing what they might do to me then. Only, when I got up to run, the cuffs broke after my first couple steps.”

“And how did that make you feel?” Her captor asked, seemingly mesmerized by her fabrication.

“I was crushed… crestfallen.” She answered. “The moment was ruined. My cousins were mad at me for breaking their toys. We never played again.”

“You don’t have to worry about that sort of disappointment here, Sierra.” His words were a firm promise. “You won’t break free here.”

“No.” She swallowed, smiling nervously. “I am sure that I won’t.”

Her answer seemed to break the spell, and he paused for a moment, adjusting the settings on the video-camera. He locked eyes with her again.

“So, now we’re at the end, Princess.” He spoke softly. “I want you to explain to the camera that you’re surrendering yourself to this dungeon for one year, and that you understand that there will be no turning back once it begins. Tell the camera that you understand that there will be no safeword, and that there will be no mercy. Tell me that you want me to turn you into a ponygirl.”

“Please, why does it have to be that horrible pony stuff?” Jessica pleaded, pouting as best she could, trying to cling to that weakness she had seen in him earlier. “I’ll do whatever you want. You can… you can… you can keep me tied up so I won’t run away, but why make me do those other things?”

“Princess, you’ve been very good.” He warned. “Please don’t spoil it.”

“I understand that I am giving myself over for a year, and that once it starts, there is no turning back.” She spoke fearfully, trying to seem nervous, but not to expose the terror that gripped her. “I want… I want you to make me a… a ponygirl. I don’t want a safeword, and I don’t want or expect mercy. Once you begin, I know that the end only comes one way. But, you should know one thing.”

“And what’s that, Princess?” He asked, raising a brow.

“You better hope I don’t break the cuffs this time.” She spoke icily, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, Princess.” He laughed as he turned off the camera and walked back to her, twirling a pair of the hated cuffs on his index finger. “How about that dinner now?”

She nodded quickly, not resisting as he drew her hands behind her back and locked them once more in the handcuffs. It suddenly amazed her how much her life had changed in just a short few days. She remembered how foreign and alien the tight steel had felt against her wrists when the ordeal began. Was she really growing accustomed to them? Unlocking her belt from the chair, he helped her to her feet. She tried to push the hem of the short skirt back down, but it was difficult with her hands cuffed behind her. She blushed slightly as her captor’s hands finished the work for her.

“Let’s get you some dinner, Princess.” He whispered in her ear as he began to lead her across the mill. “You must be starving.”

Chapter Six – Dinner Date

Jessica walked across the room with her captor, boot soles scuffing on the concrete floor, his grip firm on her arm. She was weary to the bone, and her wrists ached as she tugged unconsciously at the tight cuffs on her wrists, but she couldn’t help but feel good about the promise of food to come. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation of the meal. She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she’d last eaten. She worried about the events of the last hour or so, and the use to which he would put the videotape, but what else could she have done? If she had resisted, it would only have led to more pain and torture. Better to play his game, follow his sick rules, and hope for an opening.

“You’re not allergic to anything specific, are you?” He asked her as they approached a heavy wooden table with two matching chairs next to each other on one side. “I’d have asked your father before picking you up, but it would have just made him suspicious.”

“No, I’m not.” She answered, looking up him as they walked, meeting his eyes to look for any sign of deception. “And what do you mean, suspicious?”

“Well, your dear old dad no doubt assumed that I would be killing you, not kidnapping you, Princess.”

She opened her mouth to speak, to call him a liar and rage against his cruel lies, but then closed it quickly without a word. There was no point in angering him, she realized, trying to let the anger she felt wash away. Arriving at the table, he sat her down on one of the chairs. Her heart sank as she saw that it was fitted with a number of thick leather straps. Reaching behind her again, he locked the ring on the back of the belt in place as it had been for the interview. On the table in front of her, she saw an empty plate, silverware, and a wine glass. On each side of the plate, a silver cuff rested, attached to the table by a short chain.

“You said… You said that, if I was good… that if I cooperated with you….” Jessica’s voice was cut off by a choking sob as he began to spread her right thigh wide, toward the arm of the chair and a waiting leather strap. “Please, I’ll be good… you don’t need all this.”

“I know I don’t need it, Princess.” He chuckled softly as he buckled the strap around her thigh, just above the knee. “If you’d prefer, though, we could get you back into your pony gear and let you eat from the trough again.”

“No, please no.” She sobbed, tears welling in her eyes as he spread and strapped the other thigh, the short skirt riding up to bunch around her waist as her legs for forced spread.

“Then just focus on the moment, as I’ve told you.” He whispered in her ear as he reached behind her to release the cuffs from her wrists. “And remember, it could always be a lot worse than it is right now.”

Biting her trembling lower lips, she brought her freed hands around in front of her, rubbing her sore wrists for a moment, and then struggling with the skirt. He stood behind her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder as she arranged the skirt as best she could with her legs spread. Without looking up, she could feel his eyes on her, drinking in the sight of her.

“I’m going to go get dinner.” He ruffled her hair. “When I get back, your hands should be in those cuffs next to the plate. If they’re not, you don’t eat.”

Jessica listened to him walk away, and then turned to see him step into one of the walled off areas of the mill. With her captor out of sight, her hands immediately went to the belt behind her back. She struggled with the lock, and the hasp of the belt itself, but neither would budge. Squirming in the seat, she tried to slip the belt and skirt down over her hips, but it was definitely too tight to move. Her mind cried out in frustration; so close to freedom, but kept from escape by just the belt. Giving up on escape for now, she turned her attention to the cuffs on the table.

“Fucking bastard.” Jessica hissed as she held the first cool cuff in her hand, contemplating putting it on her wrist.

It was a meaningless addition, really, her mind told her. Escape was no more impossible cuffed to the table than her current condition, but she hated the thought of adding to her confinement. But then, if she didn’t do it, she didn’t eat, and she felt confident he would carry through on that promise. Swallowing her revulsion, she closed the first cuff in place on her left wrist. Playing out the length of the chain, she discovered that she could only reach her mouth by leaning forward. Moaning softly, she reached across the plate and closed the other cuff on her right wrist. Looking down over her body, breasts rising and falling gently beneath the camo top, she tugged at the straps on her thighs, booted feet swaying in the air, unable to reach the ground.

A few moments later, Jessica heard her captor returning, and then smelled the food that he brought with him. Her stomach grumbled at the delicious scents. He set the new plate down on top of the bare one, and she was reminded of the times that her father brought her to some of the nicer restaurants in town. The food looked delicious; a small steak drizzled with some kind of sauce, roasted spears of asparagus, and candied carrots.

“Dig in, Princess.” He told her, sitting down next to her in the other chair, and beginning to open a bottle of wine. “I know you’re famished.”

Jessica forced herself to eat slowly, afraid that eating too quickly might make her sick after the long period of hunger. She also wanted to extend the dinner as long as possible, and avoid whatever less present scenario awaited her next. The food tasted as good as it looked and smelled, and she chewed each bite slowly, luxuriating in the texture and flavor. It was awkward eating in the cuffs, and she struggled to keep the chains from dragging into the food, bending forward toward the table with each bite.

“Drink up, Princess.” He poured her glass full of a ruby-colored liquid with one hand, and she tensed as his other hand moved to the inside of her thigh, caressing it gently.

Trying to ignore the casual groping of her thigh, and the way his hand began to wander down toward the place between her legs, she picked up the wine glass and took a careful sip. The drink was strong, its rich warmth seeming to coat her through and fill up her nostrils with scents of blackberry and oak.

“Is that wine?” She asked, taking another sip, trying to divert his wandering hand.

“It’s port, actually, which is a kind of wine.” He answered, his hand moving to the outside of her hip and up to her bare waist, fingers playing along the bottom edge of her top. “Do you like it?”

“It’s not like any wine I’ve had before.” She spoke quickly, a flutter running through her belly as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of the shirt. “It’s fruitier. I like it.”

“I’m glad. You can have as much as you like.” The palm of his hand was now flat against her stomach, slowly sliding upwards under the material of the tank top. “What do you usually drink at those parties that made your father so upset, Princess?”

“W-wine coolers mostly.” She stuttered, placing the empty wine glass down on the table as his hand moved up toward her breasts.

Jessica whined softly as his hand cupped her bare left breast beneath the shirt. She jerked her hands in their cuffs reflexively, but he kept her pressed back against the chair so she couldn’t reach. She felt him begin to play with her nipple between his thumb and index finger.

“Have I told you how perfect a body you have, Princess?” He leaned in close, his voice nearly a whisper. “Do you have any idea how much self control I’ve had to exercise so far?”

“P-please… please don’t do this…” She sobbed, yanking at the cuffs in helpless frustration as he lightly twisted her nipple.

“Just eat, baby.” He smiled warmly, still cupping her breast in his hand, but not pressing back any more. “I’m just enjoying myself.”

Sniffing back tears as his hand continued to fondle her breast, she turned her attention back to the food, trying to focus on it but unable to ignore his roaming hand. When he re-filled the wine glass, she took it gratefully and drank it quickly. Exhausted and humiliated, she yearned for the blessed release that she normally avoided when she drank. As she ate and drank, he continued to explore her body with his fingers. His hand was everywhere; on her face, on her hips, in her hair, on her legs and then between them. She jerked against the leather straps as his finger glided lightly along the lips of her pussy.

“Don’t… Oh God, please don’t…” Jessica sobbed between bites of food, the plate slowly clearing.

“Am I hurting you, Princess?” He asked, his finger continued to play along her nether lips.

“N-no.” She sobbed, draining another glass of port, beginning to feel its effects.

“Then just accept it as far better than what I could be doing to you.” He hissed, a cold edge to his voice.

She finished eating in silence, her pace slackening as she got down to the last bits of food. She hated the feel of his hands on her body, the way she could do nothing to stop him from touching her most private and intimate areas. But she also realized that he was right. In her short time here, she’d learned just how miserable he could make her life, just how much he could hurt and torment her. She didn’t look forward to what might follow this reprieve. He didn’t seem to object to her slower pace, seeming to be more than content to grope and fondle her helpless body, refilling her glass whenever she emptied it. At long last, she finished the last on her plate and set down her fork and knife.

“Did you enjoy your dinner, Princess?” He asked, his hand on her inner thigh now.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Then let’s get you ready for bed.”

“Oh yes, please. I’m so tired.” She nearly sobbed.

With the turn of the keys, he released her wrists from the table. She didn’t resist as he drew them back behind her again, locking them again in the familiar handcuffs. Unbuckling the straps on her thighs, he placed her booted feet back on the ground and then released her belt from the chair, helping her to her feet. They walked silently back to the post room, and she whimpered softly at the sight of the hay-covered floor and the rough wooden post.

“But you said… you said I could sleep on… on a bed…” She sobbed softly as he moved her to the post and wrapped a heavy leather collar around her neck, forcing her up onto her toes, facing and up against the rough wood. “I was good. I did what you wanted.”

“Shhh…” He quieted her with a finger to her lips, and then picked up the black leather mittens that she had worn earlier. “We’re just here to get you ready for bed. You will be sleeping on a bed tonight. Just relax.”

Jessica looked in fear at the leather mittens, and then felt him press the fingers of her right hand back into the ball shape before wrapping them back in the tight leather. Her body spasmed involuntarily as he enclosed her hand once more, and then did the same to the other. She hadn’t been crazy enough to think that the damned things wouldn’t be returning, but it was still demoralizing to actually have them back in place. Removing the cuffs from her wrists, he finished with the mitten attachments, locking their wrist straps.

“You really don’t like these things, do you?” He asked as he cinched them in place.

“I fucking hate them.” She spat.

“Such a naughty mouth.” He laughed, his hands moving up to her shoulders and slowly drawing the straps of the tank top down her arms.

Jessica’s body shuddered, goose bumps rising on her flesh, as he bared her breasts once more, pulling the top down her body to pool around her ankles. She moved her mittened hands to her breasts, placing them between the rough wood and her body. Closing her tear-filled eyes tightly, she felt him release the belt and then drop the skirt down to meet the top. His hands glided down her legs, lifting each foot out of its boot and then placing them back on the ground. When she felt, him slide her right foot back into the awful pony boot, her sobbing turned to full-fledged crying. Cheek pressed against the rough wood, she bawled helplessly, overwhelmed with misery as her toes were once again forced to an uncomfortable point.

“There, there, Princess.” He said soothingly, finished with the boots, letting go of her legs, and leaving her to once again struggle for balance. “You’re going to have to get a hold of yourself or you’ll never make it.”

“Make it to what?” She cried hysterically. “There’s no hope. There’s no anything for me any more. Just this fucking pony shit until I go crazy.”

Rising to his feet, he began to strap the harness onto her upper body again, the tight leather straps digging into her flesh as before. Next came the harness for her head, wrapping around her face and neck as he released her from the collar that held her to the post. She stood on wobbly legs as he buckled the last of the straps in place, grateful that he didn’t attach the horrid bit between her lips.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” She sobbed, beginning to get some control of herself. “Just days and days of this until what? Until you get tired of me, and kill me like my dad wanted?”

“Oh, I’d never kill you, Princess.” He laughed, gripping her upper arm, and helping her out of the post room on wobbly legs.

“Then what? You’ll just keep me forever?”

“Not forever, I don’t imagine. I’ll probably get bored of you before then.” He spoke as he led her. “But you’re too valuable to dispose of. After I’ve had my fill, I’ll just sell you.”

“S-sell me? What?” She cried out.

“Sure, Princess. There’s always a good market for a well-trained filly, though it will be quite some time before you’re properly trained.”

“You can’t…. You can’t… do this to me!” She cried out, almost tripping as she stumbled in the horrible boots. “I’m not some fucking piece of property! I’m a human being!”

“You just keep believing that as long as you can.”

“No! No fucking way!” Jessica screamed, trying to pull away when she suddenly realized where her captor had led her; the cruel metal cot of her first night standing before her.

Jessica fought desperately as he dragged her bodily to the cot, screaming in terror and rage. He controlled her easily, though, knocking her easily off balance to crash down on the bare springs. Climbing on top of her, his weight pressing her hard against the springs, he grabbed her left wrist with both hands and drew it up to the corner of the cot. She punched at his chest and face, ineffectually with her other mittened hand, unable to get enough leverage for a decent blow. Her legs kicked wildly as she squirmed beneath him.

“No! Stop it!” She screamed as the cuff ratcheted closed on her wrist, locking it in place at the bed corner. She fought like a banshee, fueled by desperation, but could not stop him from spreading her slender body out to the four corners of the cot and locking her in place.

“I promised you a bed, didn’t I?” He chuckled.

“Go to hell, you sick fuck!” She screamed. “I’ll kill you! I swear to God, I’ll kill you!”

Without another word, winking at her, he turned from her and left her on the cot.

Chapter Seven – The Evening News

Jessica panted hard as she lay back on the bare springs of the cot. Her heart pounded in her chest, a result of both the terror of what she knew was coming, and her intense hatred of the man who was doing this to her. The scene played out as it had the first night she had been locked in place on this cot, the familiar music starting up as if on cue as her captor left her alone in the dark. On some level, it felt like it had been a lifetime ago that she had first experienced this particular torture. So much had happened since then. She couldn’t believe just how much her life had changed in that time, and she realized that she really didn’t know how long it had been.

A sob wracked the cuffed girl’s body as the music abruptly ended and was replaced by the hissing static sound. She fought desperately against the tight steel that locked her in place, thrashing against the cot as the flashing light began above her, though she knew that her struggle was in vain. As the light reached strobe intensity, both it and the screeching static came to an end. Jessica’s whole body tensed in dreadful anticipation.

“Three….. Two….. One….” The recorded voice announced solemnly.

Jessica jerked in surprise as a sudden burst of cold water rained down on her from above. Tensed for an electrical assault, the freezing water was an unexpected surprise as it sprayed her exposed body, causing her to gasp. The tension left her body as she began to shiver, collapsing back against the cot.

“Oh God… thank God...,” She whimpered in relief.

The surge of electricity that flashed through her body after her sobbing words was all the more horrific because of her thoughts of reprieve, and the wetness of her body. As the cot sent the current through her, she jerked up reflexively, arching her back as her mouth opened in a silent scream. She could feel the electricity racing through the water that coated her body like a hunter seeking its prey, sizzling through her most tender spots.

Jessica collapsed back against the cot as the current shut off, a long whine emanating from somewhere deep within her as the springs groaned with the return of her body’s weight. She cried, her whole body trembling as she recovered from this new, crueler assault. Turning slightly onto her side as she bawled helplessly, Jessica tried to imagine how she would make it through the night with her sanity intact. Exhaustion was already threatening to overwhelm her, both physically and mentally. She had no idea how long she’d actually slept in the time since her capture, but it felt like she had not at all. She yearned desperately for the sweet surrender of sleep, but her mind reeled with terror. Each groan of the cot’s rusty springs and clink of the chains that held her arms and legs wide reminded her of the horror that awaited her when the music ended.

Jessica lost track of how many times she suffered the assault of the water and electricity through the night, but it was somewhere closer to ten than five. She wasn’t even sure if she had really slept, feeling always that she was locked in a nightmare world between sleep and waking. She started hallucinating somewhere during the night, at one point imagining that she saw several shadowy figures standing above her cot. When she cried out to them for help, they evaporated like smoke, and she was left alone with her thoughts and terror.

Half awake, she heard the approach of footsteps just as the music cut off. Straining against the cuffs, she propped herself up enough to see her captor approach, dressed again in the black clothing and mask. As she watched him slowly approach, she heard the static sound beginning.

“Please, no more. Just please let me up.” She sobbed, body quivering in anticipation as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Oh God, just let me up.”

He walked slowly, silently, as she thrashed desperately against the cuffs. The light flashed faster and faster and she screamed hysterically, and then the recorded voice shared its countdown with her. As the water sprayed down, she gazed pleadingly at her captor with wide, tear-filled eyes, but could see no pity reflected in his. He stood above her, masked and aloof, as the surge of electricity tore into her body, and she shook in its terrible clutches.

“Another long night, eh, Princess?” Her captor asked as he reached down to run his fingers through her hair through the sections of her hair that peaked past the leather straps of her harness.

“Wh-why… Oh please, why are you doing this to me?”

“Because you’re just a work pony, Princess.” He spoke gently, his voice soothing. “And nobody cares about work ponies’ feelings. Would you like to be more than that, Princess?”

“Yes, please. Just no more of this.”

“”Then let’s go try the test again.”

“What? Now?” She whimpered, her voice cracking as she looked up at him. “But I’m so tired. I couldn’t… I couldn’t possibly do it…”

“Then you just give up for today? I understand, Princess. Let’s just get you to the wheel then.”

“No!” She cried out, hot tears stinging her eyes as she pulled at her restraints. “Just, please, let me rest a little. Then I’ll be ready.”

“Rest is not an option. You live to serve, and to work. It is either time to try your test again, or to get to work.”

“I’ll…. I’ll try then.” She sobbed. “But… But can I go to the bathroom first?”

“After your test, Princess.” He laughed softly, and she winced, her bladder already aching. “If you pass, you be able to shower and use the bathroom before we get you ready. If you fail, you can just piss yourself at the wheel again, since you seem to like that so much.”

Blushing crimson, she looked away from him as he leaned over her to unlock her booted ankles from their corners of the cot. She turned back to watch as he locked another pair of cuffs between her feet again. Turning around, he leaned the other way, unlocking her wrists from the cot and helping her to sit up next to him with her hoof-boots clacking on the floor. She didn’t resist as he turned her to face away from him as they sat, and then drew her arms behind her back. Once more, she felt them drawn up awkwardly between her shoulder-blades and attached to the back of her leather harness.

“Can I… Can you please let me sleep after?” Jessica whimpered softly as she felt the high leather collar wrap around her neck, forcing her to stay looking forward once more.

“You’re looking too far forward, Princess.” He whispered softly to her as he added the blinders to the sides of her head harness, limiting her vision once more. “You need to focus on passing your test. The rest of your day hinges on that test. Now open up.”

Reluctantly, she opened her mouth and let him place the vicious metal bit back between her teeth. She bit down hard on it as he attached its rubber straps to the side of her harness. Already she could feel her jaw tightening to resist the gag’s impulse to plunge down into her throat. Tears began to stream down her cheeks as she panted through her nose. Every inch of her body protested at the thought of more of this horrible labor, but she knew she could do nothing to avoid it save passing the test.

“Ok, come on now, Princess.” He clipped a leash to the front of the collar and drew her up with him as he stood, giving it a playful tug.

Humiliated and exhausted, she followed him on the short leash until they reached the familiar arrangement of three copper tubes. She felt a flutter of nervousness in her belly as he lined her up to stand at one end with the wicked bar between her legs, and the others next to her hips. Squatting down, he removed the cuffs from her ankles.

“You get three tries to high step to the other end in less than fifteen seconds, Princess.” He reminded her, giving her ass a swat. “If you fail, it’s another day as a work pony for you, toiling at the wheel. If you succeed, you become my pretty little show pony. Begin.”

Jessica took only a moment to steady herself before beginning, fearing the time limit. She began slowly, raising her foot high until her upper leg was parallel to the floor before setting it down and raising the other, the first two steps covered slowly but surely. The next step was harder to make, her footing less sure as it had just come down, and she cried out as she teetered, her inner thigh grazing the bar between her legs. The electrical shock surged into her, but she managed to keep her jaw clenched on the bit as she screamed.

“Back up and try again, Princess.” The voice chuckled behind her.

Panting through her nose as she recovered from the attack to her soft inner thigh, she backed up again, grateful that the bar was now deactivated. When she had reached the starting spot, she began again, high-stepping forward a little more slowly than before. She took the time to carefully plant her booted foot with each step, unable to look down to see the bar between her legs, but focusing on keeping herself moving exactly straight forward. Her legs felt like they were made of lead as she raised them for each step, trembling with the exertion of lifting the heavy boots after so much time without sleep. She plodded forward with great effort, watching hopefully as the end of the track drew near.

“That’s time, Princess. You can back up and try again.”

Jessica broke down into tears as she slowly backed toward the beginning, shuffling her booted feet. She had been so close, nearly at the end. Had it really been fifteen seconds, or was this just another of his cruelties? Sobbing, tears flowing down her cheeks and onto her bare breasts, she began again. She walked faster this time, focusing on the target, but her legs were too tired for the exertion. They trembled with the high steps, and she came down clumsily, a boot buckle clanging against the tube. Sent off balance, she collided with the tube, screaming as it sent it wicked assault directly into her pussy.

“So sad.” He laughed behind her as she doubled over, her belly coming to rest against the pole for a moment before she fell to the floor in a screaming heap.

The gag plunged down into her throat as she cried out, and she gagged on it. Dry heaves wracked her body as she struggled on the floor. Her captor reached her, dragging her by the hair back up onto her feet as she forced the nasty metal back out and between her teeth. She struggled against him as he led her toward the waiting wheel, but the attempt was futile. Within minutes, she was once again strapped in place to the heavy wooden cog, its second arm standing before her.

“I imagine you’ll only need a couple more tries to pass, Princess.” He smiled as he set the cattle prod in motion ahead of her, his hand absently fondling her bare breasts. “Just think about it. Only a couple more days of hard labor for you.”

Without another word, he stepped back, and she strained forward against the straps. It took everything that she could muster to set the wheel in motion, her body already feeling ready to collapse when she was just beginning. She pressed forward with all her might, watching helplessly as she failed to keep pace with the second arm and its wicked prod. Halfway around, a television flickered to life. She saw herself on its small screen. She immediately recognized the picture as the scene from the night before, now edited. She saw herself enter the room, twirl for the camera, and then move to the chair and sit. It was impossible to know, she realized, that she had been bound throughout the whole scene.

The television passed out of sight as she pressed forward, though she could still hear its sound. She heard the edited question and answer session, and her own seemingly enthusiastic reasons for why she was here now and being treated so. But no one would really believe it, would they? No one could honestly think that she was doing this of her own free will.

When the television came into view again, the picture changed. She saw that it was a local news program. The picture showed the burned wreckage of a car at the bottom of a ravine, and the headline read “Missing Nineteen Year Old’s Body Found.” She slowed as she approached the screen, drawn in by the scene. A reporter stepped into view at the top of the cliff.

“In a tragic ending to what has been a trying story for this town, the body of Jessica Miller, daughter of Mayor Benjamin Miller, was found today, when three kids discovered this car while playing in this abandoned granite quarry. Since her disappearance was reported, the town has been searching for some sign of her, holding out hope that she was still alive.”

The scene changed to a picture of the steps of the Town Hall. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw her father standing behind the podium. He looked haggard and unshaven, as if he had not been sleeping. She wanted to cry out to him, to tell him that she was all right. Cameras flashed as he began to speak. She came to a stop as she watched, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to keep watching if she walked any further.

“No father, no parent, should ever have to outlive their children. Since receiving this news this morning, all I’ve been able to ask myself is what I could have done differently. What could I have done to help save my precious daughter?”

Jessica screamed into the gag as she cried, as if she could somehow reach him in his moment of pain, to tell him that she was alive, and not to give up the search. Standing in the leather harness, boots, and mittens felt all the more confining as she watched the television, and she struggled desperately against them in frustration. And then her blood chilled as her father began to speak again.

“Knowing that you missed the signs is the hardest part. I remember the last conversation that we had before she left to drive away for the last time. I had set up a birthday party for her… for my little girl’s nineteenth… and then she found out that there wasn’t going to be alcohol there. She flew into a rage, screaming about it. I tried to calm her down, to talk some sense into her. I’d never seen her like that. But she stormed out before I could stop her.”

Jessica stood stunned as she watched tears begin to form in her father’s eyes. There had never been such a conversation. She wasn’t a drinker, and he knew it. Why would he say these things? And then she knew. He was making up these stories because, as her captor had told her, he was really responsible for her disappearance. Utter hopelessness overtook her in that moment, and she choked and sobbed around the harsh metallic bit in her mouth while her body spasmed. The scene changed again, back to the reporter waiting above the crash.

“This stunning news comes on the heels of Mayor Miller’s announcement that he is throwing his hat into the ring in the upcoming Gubernatorial elections.”

The blinding pain of the cattleprod caught her off guard as she stood enraptured by the program on the television. She staggered forward, losing her grip on the bit as she screamed in pain, feeling it plunge back into her throat. She heaved and gagged, struggling to step forward again, reacting too slowly as the prod struck her again. Screaming in agony, she stepped forward, throwing herself into the traces as she gagged and dry heaved, the bit still deep in her throat.

Fighting back into control, she struggled to remain ahead of the prod, falling back into the rhythm of the work, focusing on that need in order to try and drown out the thoughts that raged in her mind.

Chapter Eight

Though she strained desperately to stay ahead of the prod’s wicked touch, Jessica’s fatigue proved to be too much for her. During her long labor, its metal points found her three more times, the second causing her to piss herself again, and the third nearly causing her to pass out. Her only respite from the grueling labor and her exhaustion was the fact that the television did not turn on again throughout the remainder of the ordeal. When her captor finally returned, she collapsed in the traces as her body trembled uncontrollably, crying and unable to support herself any longer.

“There, there, Sierra.” He spoke softly, caressing her trembling thigh with one hand while the other began the process of detaching her harness from the wheel. “Such a hard day for my little filly.”

Jessica nodded, sucking deep, shuddering breaths around the nasty bit between her sobs. Finishing her release from the wheel, he wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her in close as they began to walk toward the post room. She didn’t resist him, could barely think, as she walked on wobbly legs, pressing against him for support.

“Heeesh… Uhnnkkkie… Eeehhh” Jessica struggled to plead for release from behind the bit without unclenching her jaw.

“We have a special treat this afternoon, Princess.” He gave her asscheek a playful squeeze as they walked. “One of your biggest online fans paid for a special request, and you’re going to make his little fantasy come true.”

She looked up at him with wide eyes as they drew closer to the post room, her stomach fluttering at the thought of what might be in store for her. Her mind reeled at the reminder that people were watching her suffering, paying to watch this sick bastard do these horrible things to her. Her mind felt fuzzy, almost disconnected from her body, as they entered the post room. The smell of the food waiting in the trough, so unappetizing before, sent her stomach into spasms of hunger. So intent was her longing look toward the waiting water and porridge that her captor had to physically turn her to see the little room’s newest addition.

“After you fulfill our special friend’s request, I’ll give you some time to eat, Princess.” He told her as he lead her to a wooden contraption that rested on the floor next to the post. Unpainted and roughly nailed together, it was in the shape of a dollhouse’s roof. Chains led from the four bottom corners of the thing up to the rafters above, though they only loosely dangled as it sat on the straw-covered floor. Familiar metal rings were set into the strange thing at various points..

“It’s called a horse, Princess.” He spoke softly to her, as if answering the question that dominated her mind. “And it’s going to be very trying for you, I can assure you.”

Jessica felt her stomach knotting up at his words, exacerbated by her ravenous hunger and the icy terror that began to fill her. With a hand on the inside of her thigh, sticky from her earlier accident, he lifted one of her legs over the roof-like thing so that she stood straddling it. Squatting down next to her, he lifted the loose end of a chain locked to a ring on the floor and brought it to her ankle, locking it in place to the ring that waited there. Her breath quickened, hissing around the bit in her mouth, and she shifted on her feet as she began to get a picture of what was coming.

“Heeesssshhh…. Ohhhnnnk.” She sputtered around the metallic bit, her drool running down over her chin as she cried softly.

Moving around her without responding to her garbled plea, her captor chained the other ankle to a waiting ring on the other side of the horse. She tugged helplessly at the short chains, her hoofboots clopping against the floor. He walked away from her toward a winch on one wall as she sobbed, hot tears spilling down her cheeks and onto her bare heaving breasts.

She screamed in terror as he began to turn the winch, accompanied by the ominous sounds of chains moving. She watched the chains to the corners of the horse in front of her go taut and then begin to rise as the clanking sound continued. She yanked furiously at the chains on her ankles, strained to free her useless hands pulled up behind her, but to no avail. Her bonds held her securely in their tight grip as she watched the horse begin to rise between her legs. Sucking in air through her nose, she struggled to avoid hyperventilating.

Jessica tensed as the wooden sides made contact with her inner thighs, squeezing her legs tight against the wood to try and resist its inexorable climb. And still it rose, up and up until it lifted the toes of her boots off the ground, the roofline of the thing pressing against the lips of her pussy. Even with her thighs pressed hard to the sloping sides of the roof, the pain was terrible. She cried out in pain, throwing her head back and nearly losing her jaw’s grip on the metal bit as she suffered. Her thighs quivered with the exertion of their tight press against the wood after their long day of work.

“Let me help you get… comfortable.” The man spoke in her ear, standing behind her suddenly with his hands resting on her hips. She grunted in pain, panting rapidly through her nose as his hands moved to her nether lips, lifting her slightly off the wood. She pressed against him as the pressure on her pussy lessened, and then felt his fingers sliding along those lips, slipping between them and spreading them. Trembling, she struggled to remain still and to maintain the grip of her thighs on the sides as he placed her back down with her lips spread, the unbearable pain made worse by even the slightest motion of her body.

“You are a delight to watch, Princess.” Her captor practically purred as he removed his hands from her body, increasing her need to support herself with her weary legs. “This scene is going to make me a fortune.”

Sobbing, Jessica closed her eyes tightly, trying to push aside everything else in the world but her attention to keeping her thighs from giving out on her. She knew it was hopeless, could feel them beginning to falter as she heard the sounds of a camera shutter snapping, but struggled to maintain regardless. In this dark, terrible moment, she was surprised to discover inside herself that a glimmer of hope somehow remained. That tiny fragment of sanity, buried beneath seemingly endless layers of despair, called out to her to fight as long as she could manage, as if it would perish beneath even the smallest surrender.

Even with her thighs working to their best, the pain to her pussy felt like a knife driving up inside her. The cruel point of the roof drove hard against her most sensitive flesh, impaling her mercilessly. Slick with sweat and bone-weary, her thighs began to give out and she screamed as the pain grew worse, more focused and intense as it stabbed her wickedly. A long, mewling sound escaped her, born of agony.

“Just a little longer, Princess.” He whispered, almost reverently as he continued to snap pictures. “You’re doing so great.”

Body wracked with sobs, Jessica came to rest fully against the point of the roof, her thighs finally giving in entirely. Her legs spread out to the side, balancing precariously, she opened her tear-filled eyes to gaze pleadingly at her captor. The torture was maddening, her mind threatening to shut down, her entire being wanting nothing more than to retreat and never return. Shaking slightly, she tried to speak behind the bit but could only sputter helplessly. Her eyes widened as he lowered the camera, letting it dangle from a strap on his neck as if her were some sick, twisted tourist, and then lifted his other hand to reveal that he was holding that long rod. Shaking her head, she bucked desperately against the horse, the motion drilling it harder against her as she struggled futilely.

Without a word, he brought the rod down hard across her left breast. The searing pain made her jump, bringing her down harder against the biting wood. Crying, she squirmed against the wood, trying to lean back to relieve the pressure and crying out as the rod lashed out again at her other breast, causing her to jerk forward and grind against the roofline. Her flesh felt raw, burning with pain as she rocked against the wood. He moved quickly behind her, bringing the lash down twice more, once to each globe of her ass, perched above the cruel wood. She strained against the tight leather mittens behind her back, tugging at the locks that held them to the harness as she was consumed with the pain.

She was shocked when she sensed the thing between her legs lowering, her mind blurry with the agony. Lowered back onto her hoofed feet, she was able to lift herself from the wood on trembling legs as she choked on her cries. She could still feel the wicked press of it between her legs even after it had come to rest on the floor. Without ceremony, her captor unlocked her ankles from the floor rings and then clipped a chain between them. While she struggled to recover, he dragged her after him back to the post room, stumbling with her ankles hobbled.

“You can eat and drink your fill.” He growled in her ear, and she sensed some anger in his voice, though could not fathom what had caused it. “If I hear your voice, you’ll sleep on the horse tonight.”

Finished with his threat, he released the bands that held the bit in her mouth, letting it hang from her tear-stained cheek. Roughly, he threw her to the ground, and she cried out as she landed hard on her shoulder, sliding across the rough straw until her cheek nearly rested against the wooden trough. Jessica heard a click and felt a tug on her ankle, turning to see him rising after he locked her ankle to a chain that lead to the heavy wooden post.

“When I return, I will clean you for your next… endeavor.” He spoke ominously as he walked from the room.

Chapter Nine (added: 04/17/2010)

Jessica woke without realizing she'd fallen asleep, still lying in the scratchy hay on the floor of the post room. The room was dark now, and she looked about quickly as her eyes adjusted to it, seeking any sign that she was not alone. Her only company in the dim room, however, was the ever-present red lights of the video cameras. She rose slowly up onto her knees before the wooden troughs, her heavy boots clattering on the floor as she got them beneath her. As she tried once more to free her mittened hands from where they were held up uncomfortably behind her back, she wondered how long she'd been asleep.

It felt as though she'd been asleep for some time, judging by the fact that, in spite of her continuing restraint, she felt refreshed. Without any way of knowing how long she'd have before her captor's return, she lowered her face to the porridge waiting in its wooden host and began to eat. It was hard to get her lips into the gruel with the thick posture collar around her neck, and she had to slurp at it as best she could. The dull sludge sated her hunger, and she forced herself to eat until she could handle no more, realizing that she had no idea how long it would be before she would eat again. That simple thought brought fresh tears to her eyes, and they dripped down her nose into the water trough as she drank her fill. She tried to think of anything but her utter reliance on her kidnapper, but was consumed by it.

"You can't do this to me!" She screamed through her tears as wracking sobs overtook her, leaning forward against the trough.

Jessica Miller was dead to the world, she realized, and replaced by the fictional Sierra. Her only contact with the outside world now came through the sick bastards that paid to see what her captor did to her and, in their minds, she was here willingly, thanks to the little introduction she'd helped him make. She focused on that thought, trying to find hope in it. She had contact with the outside world. People saw her, and heard her. If she could find some way to slip something past her captor that could let them know that her willingness was a lie, she might be able to find a way free of this hell. She focused on that with all of her will.

Rising from the trough onto wobbly legs, she turned her body to look with trepidation at the metal bucket that sat next to it on the ground. It looked just like the one in which he'd tossed her clothes on that first night, and she approached it sheepishly, as if it were a living thing that would attack her. She hated the thought of using it, but her bladder ached insistently, and she questioned whether she would ever see a real toilet again. The chain from her ankle gave her just enough slack that she could straddle it, and she carefully lowered herself into a squat over it as her thighs trembled with the exertion. She had to keep contact with the bucket on the insides of her legs in order to know where it was, unable to look down with the collar holding her neck securely in place.

Jessica blushed crimson with shame as the sharp sound of her urine against the tin bucket filled the room. She tried to adjust herself to minimize the light splatter of it that she felt against her flesh, but squatting in the precarious boots was enough of a challenge, and she was forced to suffer it. She sighed softly with relief, despite her humiliation, as the pressure on her bladder finally faded away. The smell of it mixed with the odor from her body and she wrinkled her nose. She felt disgusting, like some sort of dirty beast.

Suddenly, a brilliant light flashed on above her, glaring down into her eyes. She jerked with surprise at the sudden intense glow, losing her balance as she pulled on her bonds. Toppling backwards, she hit the ground on her bound hands. The bucket fell over with a clatter of metal as she struck it with one of her boots as she fell, and she cried out in misery as she felt the hot piss on her bare legs. Struggling up onto her knees in a pool of the vile liquid, she saw her captor approaching, dressed once more in all black, and carrying a black leather belt in his hands.

"Did you have another accident, Sierra?" He asked, his grin standing out starkly against his black mask. "You're such a filthy pony."

"My name is Jessica." She tried to sound more confident than she felt as she forced herself back up onto her feet, though her voice cracked as she continued. "And I am n-not a pony."

She trembled visibly as she stood before him in her leather harness, backed as far away as the chain from her ankle would allow. He reached up to roughly grasp the ring on the back of her collar, and she whimpered softly, hating herself for the pathetic sound as it escaped her. He used the ring to turn her until she could no longer see him past the blinders that obscured her peripheral vision. Jessica gasped with relief as he released the locks that held her wrists to the harness, feeling them ache as he lowered them for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

"Y-you were mad at me last night, or this morning or whatever it was." She spoke softly, grasping for some means to reach him as he drew her wrists down and re-attached them to a lower point of the harness, side by side at the small of her back. "I must have done something wrong, something to spoil your shoot. If you tell me what you w-want from me, we could... we could work together, and you could make more money."

"You want to be my partner now, Princess?" He chuckled, and she winced as his hands moved up along her forearms behind her, drawing them together behind her back. "Starting to enjoy your life?"

"I'm just trying to come to terms with it." She answered quietly, hoping to strike a chord with him by using his own words. "There's no way for me to escape, right? So I should try to find a way to make it b-bearable."

He didn't respond, and Jessica bit her trembling lower lip to hold back more tears as she felt the leather belt wrap twice around her upper arms before he buckled it tightly. The addition of the belt, and the change from her usual position that they represented, frightened her. Then, he pulled her close, wrapping one arm around her waist as he pressed her trapped arms into his body. A strangled sob erupted through her body as he held the metal bit back up to her lips, and she opened her mouth once more to hold it between her teeth. She felt the pressure increase as he re-attached the dreaded bands.

"I was mad yesterday." He whispered in her ear as his fingers played lightly over her belly between the straps of the harness she wore. "But it wasn't because of anything you did."

Jessica snorted softly as he squatted behind her, his hands running down over her legs and to her boots. Forced to stare straight ahead, she felt his hands at her ankles, and then heard the chain there fall away. The freedom of her legs was fleeting, however, as she heard the familiar ratcheting sound of the handcuffs once more and then felt the press of the tight metal against the leather of her boots.

"Stomp your pretty little hoof once for me if you'd like to know why I was mad, Princess." He spoke as he rose back to his feet.

Panting a little through her nose, Jessica stomped her foot once, barely resisting the urge to stomp it again. She wanted to defy him, if only to prove to herself that she had some fight left in her, but she didn't want to pass up this opportunity for insight.

"By giving in to the financial temptation of your biggest fan, Princess, I was setting your training back a step, and I knew it." He pushed her forward toward the exit from the post room and she walked unsteadily toward it. "I was angry with myself for making that mistake, but I've come to terms with it now, and I have a new task for you that should get you right back on track."

Entering the main room of the mill again, Jessica saw that there was a pair of lines painted in the cement floor, approximately 15 feet apart from each other. Lined up behind each of the lines were two wooden buckets with curved handles raised. As they got closer to the first line, she saw that the buckets were filled with water. Next to the first bucket in line, she saw a pair of large steel hooks. They looked like over-sized fishing hooks, though they had round balls where the sharp point should have been. One had a length of black rope threaded through its opening on top and tied in place. He brought her to stand next to the hooks, and she could not look down, but she heard the metal rasp against the concrete as he picked them up.

"You've got a simple job to do this morning, Princess. All you have to do is move these buckets to the other side, and those to here." He spoke as he moved in close to her. "Of course, I am sure you're wondering how you will pick them up, being just a pony and all."

Jessica jerked in her bonds, trying to pull away from him as she felt his hands on her ass, spreading her cheeks. She bit down hard on the acrid metallic bit in her mouth, groaning as she felt the rounded tip of one of the hooks press against the rosebud of her asshole. Panting hard, nostrils flared, she screamed as he slowly forced the end of the hook into her tight anus. She clenched hard as it thrust its way deep inside her, until she could feel the length of the metal deep inside her and along the line of her ass between her cheeks.

"A draft pony's holes aren't good for much of anything, so it's nice to find some use for them." He hissed cruelly as he gave the rope on the hook a tug, pressing it harder into her.

Jessica sobbed softly as she felt him run the rope through the many rings on the back of her harness and up to her collar. Each little tug sent spasms through her body as her muscles tried to grow accustomed to the unnatural presence of the thing inside her. He brought the rope around her neck and through the ring in front, and then she felt it go down her front and through the waiting rings of the harness there.

"I've tied the other hook in place in front, though you can't see it, can you?" He chuckled, and she felt another tug on the rope and then the touch of cool metal against her bare thighs. "I think you're bright enough to figure it out, but why don't you let me help you with the first one."

With a hand on her asscheek, he guided her to stand over the first bucket, shuffling in her boots with her ankles hobbled. Taking hold of the hook that dangled in front of her, he pulled hard and she screamed as the one in her ass drove itself in deeper. She spread her legs quickly, forced to bend her knees in a squat by the pull of the rope. She heard the sound of metal against wood and then his hand was on her ponytail, pulling her back up to a standing position. As the bucket lifted off the ground, she cried out in pain as its weight was supported by the hook in her ass. When he abruptly released her hair, she quickly bent her knees and gasped with relief as the bucket came to rest on the floor once more.

"Looks like you'll have to start over on that one, Princess." He chuckled, giving her trembling ass a swat. "But you don't want to take too much more time, because if you do, then you'll have to work the wheel, too."

Jessica sobbed as she squatted over the bucket, trying to fish for the handle with the dangling hook that she could not see. She could only stare straight forward, toward the other line and its buckets that seemed to be miles away, as she tried to find the strength to endure this new torment.

Jessica lowered herself slowly on trembling legs, listening carefully for the sound of the hook against the bucket's handle. Each time that the metal made contact with the wood, she would rise as quickly as she could, teetering in the perilous hoofboots as she tried to catch the handle with it. She began to sob again after a trio of failed tries, her chest rising and falling with each gasping cry as she struggled to hold the cruel metal bit between her teeth. Her shoulders and arms ached from being pulled back so unnaturally behind her, and her ass ached from the pressure of the hook buried inside it.

Gasping with relief as the hook finally found purchase, Jessica slowly began to rise further. She mewled softly, a high-pitched sound of distress, as the weight of the bucket pulled on the rope that led to the hook inside her, hot tears streaming down her cheeks as she lifted it from the ground. She felt the bucket come to rest against the leather shins of her boots as she stood upright. With the cuffs on her ankles and their short chain, she realized, she couldn't spread her legs far enough to get the bucket between them, and she whimpered softly as she took her first few, hesitant steps.

Each halting step sent the bucket swinging out and then back in to bang against her calf, made worse by the twisting pressure this sent through the hook in her ass. Every small step was agony as she struggled to keep herself moving. The moment felt, somehow, surreal. She tried to look down at herself, but the heavy collar prevented her. Suddenly, it felt as though a simple glance of herself was the most important thing in the world to her, and her inability to do so felt like it was robbing her of her very identity.

Jessica stopped as she reached the halfway point of her torturous journey, her heart stopping in her chest as she got her first view of what the buckets awaiting her there contained. Where the wicked thing hanging between her legs now was filled with water, the ones across the line contained rocks. Shaking her head, nostrils flared, she lowered the bucket between her legs to the ground again. Pulling with newfound strength with her bound and mittened hands behind her, she swung the hook free of the handle as she turned to face her captor with wide eyes. She whimpered softly as her desperate tugs produced only the light sound of the lock between her wrists against the ring on the back of her harness.

"Giving up so quickly, Princess?" He asked as he approached her.

As she backed away, Jessica felt the chain between her ankles go taut with each fearful step. She felt utterly helpless as the now-empty hook tapped against the fronts of her boots, barely able to walk, her lips and hands stolen from her. But, despite that powerlessness, she couldn't bring herself to continue with this torment.

"A draft pony that refuses to work isn't very useful, is she?" He spoke softly, calmly, as he approached her. "She'd have to be punished severely, and wouldn't be rewarded with another chance to become a show pony today."

Jessica cried out in fear as he reached her and yanked on the rope that was threaded through the rings on the front of her harness. She nearly fell as he yanked her forward by it, her boots clattering on the ground and the hook driving up deep inside her ass again. She tried to muster a look of defiance as he glared down at her, but could only find fear and terror within herself. This act, she knew, was not born of resistance, but rather of defeat. She simply could not go on.

"Don't you want to be a show pony, Princess?" He asked.

A high-pitched whine of sorrow escaped Jessica as she nodded through the sobs that began to wrack her body. She hated him. She hated this place, and she hated the thought of giving in to his sick fantasy, but she also knew that she couldn't handle the treatment that she'd been receiving as a draft pony for much longer. Her body was failing her, and she longed for that soft bed that awaited her in the show pony room.

"You're not really cut out for this hard work, are you?" He asked, leaning in to whisper in her ear, and Jessica sobbed as she slowly shook her head. "You're built of softer stuff than that. You're made for pretty things, aren't you?"

"H-no! Don'f!" Jessica cried out around the harsh metal bit as she suddenly felt the tip of the second hook touch the lips of her pussy.

She tried to bring her legs together to stop him, but he was too fast, her thighs coming to press against either side of the leg he'd thrust between them. She staggered, nearly falling, as she tried to step back and discovered he was standing on the chain between her ankles. Mitten-clad hands twitching nervously behind her back, she could do nothing to stop him as he slowly inserted the ball on the end of the hook between her nether lips.

"Maybe you're not pony material after all." He hissed at her. "Since you're too pathetic to work as a draft pony, and not nearly graceful enough to be a show pony, maybe I should just cut my losses."

Shaking her head slowly as she sobbed, Jessica squeezed her eyes closed, trying to imagine she was anywhere else but this place. As the cold hook came to rest inside her, it seemed that this signaled some sort of change within the wicked mill. It was the first time that he'd entered her there, and the first time she'd stopped work, and the thought of both sent icy terror through her veins. She felt his hand on her back, and then a tug on the rope there until it drew taut; keeping both hooks plunged inside her. He moved around behind her, out of her limited range of vision, and she cried out as she felt the rope twist in his hand until the hooks were buried deep inside her body.

Thrusting her forward as he held tightly to the improvised rope handle on her back, he forced her across the interior of the old mill. Lost in despair, her mind racing, she barely managed to keep her feet as he led her toward a wooden back door. He held her in place, heart hammering in her chest, as he unlocked the door and opened it. Beyond the door, it was night time, and there was a small, grassy clearing with woods beyond it. Jessica's blood froze in her veins as she saw a long wooden box resting on the grass next to a deep hole that had been dug in the ground. Ropes ran from around the box to a tree above the hole.

"It's time for us to part company, Princess." He spoke calmly as he began to drag her toward the box. "I'll have to find someone more trainable."

Screaming, Jessica tried to pull herself away from her captor, oblivious in her terror to the bite of the hooks into her sensitive flesh. He held her easily, and she howled with terror as he dragged her toward the coffin, the hoofs of her boots scuffing across the ground. He wouldn't really kill her, would he? She tried to cling to the belief that he wouldn't get rid of her when she was making him so much money, but in the face of the coffin, it was too weak to support her.

Reaching the end of the coffin, he thrust her forward, and she tripped over its edge to land on her front on the soft satin padding. She squirmed, struggling to turn herself over and look back up at him with wide eyes. Unthinking in her fear, she opened her mouth to plead with him and the cruel bit plunged deep into her throat, gagging her. Her body heaved and convulsed as she gagged, her mouth filling with a rush of the regurgitated porridge as she turned sideways to spit it out. Her mouth and nose filled with the vile scent and taste as she struggled to get the bit back in place, she looked up with tear-filled eyes to see her captor standing with one hand on the lid.

"Good bye, Princess." He spoke down to her.

Jessica screamed desperately as the lid began to close, and managed to kick her feet up in time to get one boot in the way of it closing. Crying in the darkness, save for the sliver of light through the opening, she felt his hand come to rest on her foot through the boot. Sobbing, she tried to plead with him, but the combination of her overwhelming tears and the gag made her entirely incomprehensible. She shook inside the coffin, her body wracked with her sobs, as the lid slowly opened.

"But I thought you had nothing left to live for, Princess?" He glared down at her.

Jessica shook her head desperately as she looked up at him.

"Do you think you can be a good pony?" He asked.

The words reached out to her like a safety line, and she quickly nodded her head as she cried helplessly.

"How about this, then, Princess." He grinned as he looked down on her. "You get one more chance to pass the test, because you can't be a draft pony. If you fail, we will come right back here. If you pass, then we will see if you can be a better show pony."

Jessica nodded desperately as she sobbed, her chest heaving as she panted through her nose. Opening the lid the rest of the way, he lifted her from within the coffin and placed her back on her feet. She was grateful that he used her harness instead of the hooks to lift her. As she regained her feet, she felt the hook slip from within her pussy, its wet end sliding down along her thigh as she trembled. She wanted to run from him as she looked out at the open woods and the sky above, but even if she could have outrun him in the hoofboots, the cuffs on her ankles made escape an impossibility.

"Let's go, Princess." He spoke as he pushed her toward the back door of the mill.

Home     FAQ     Stories     Links     Search     Forum     Contact
Copyright ©2004-2022 All rights reserved.
Stories are copyrighted by the respective authors. Duplication of any kind is prohibited without consent.

18 U.S.C. 2257 Record-Keeping Requirements Compliance Statement