But Why?
  • Author - NickHC
  • Rating -   
  • Site Rank - 99 of 2955
  • Story Codes - F-mf, Other-f, non-consensual, extreme, humiliation, kidnapping, machine, slavery, torture
  • Post Date - 4/18/2020

Author's Note: A story that was initially intended to be my version of an internet favourite of mine. However, during the writing, it changed and lengthened. It will have a second part and if needed, possibly a third.

Part One

Hetty grunted softly then slowly rolled over in the king-sized bed and reached out a long slender arm aiming blindly towards the alarm clock on the bedside table. She missed out on grabbing it, but her hand landed close enough to knock it to the floor.

"Fuck!" she thought for a moment after glancing over the side of the bed at it and then added "Fuck, fuck, fuck" Candi would have switched it off when she got up and no doubt forgotten to set it again for her languid lover. Saying fuck wouldn't give her the time back, but something was satisfying about say it any way she thought. A second thought came. Why not just buy a second alarm clock, idiot!

She yawned, stretched and pulled herself into a sitting position, rubbed her eyes and yawned again. No putting it off. She would have to get up and later than she usually did to boot. Funny how getting up later than you intended made you feel more tired? Candi had been gone for two hours almost. She'd half woken when the younger girl gave her a quick kiss before jumping energetically out of bed in response to that wretched devices insistent beeping Half woken again when the little minx smelling of scent, shower gel and with the taste of coffee on her tongue had clamped her mouth upon hers to deliver a deep lingering wet kiss as her usual goodbye before shooting off to work.

Hetty decided it was time, indeed considerably past allowable 'snooze time' and she could not put it off any longer so she kicked her long legs free of the clinging duvet, swivelled on the edge of the bed and then headed for the bathroom wondering if Candi had left it in the usual wet 'blitzed' state? She had, careless, slovenly little bitch!

Half an hour later dressed, refreshed and with a coffee plus two slices of whole-meal toast inside her, she felt more energetic herself, and it was time to go down to her place of work. Unlike her youthful lover, she did not have to face an early start and the horrors of a daily commute via the over-crowded and under-funded London Underground in the rush hour.

Candi liked it of course but then she would. Boundless energy and a youthful zest for life-powered by her seemingly inexhaustible internal batteries. She'd just laughed and spurned the generous offer of a daily taxi both to and from her office. Thanks, but no thanks, big mamma. Uber sweet of you to offer but she liked the independence of doing her own thing, actually liked the crowds and the relentless hurly-burly. Weird but each to their own!

Hetty sometimes wondered if Candi ever thought about how close she'd come to losing that very independence she seemed so fond of? Originally scouted and selected as a likely candidate for a specialist order Hetty had decided to follow up on the initial report from her contact and check her out at first hand for suitability before proceeding any further.

She didn't do that very often but this one if suitable, was destined for an important regular customer who paid absolute top dollar for what she wanted. A seemingly chance meeting in an old fashioned and over-crowded coffee shop one lunchtime hadn't been too hard to arrange at a table they'd shared crammed into one corner.

An initial innocent question as to her preference for the type of laptop she was using and how did she feel about it compared to the operating system most people used? A seemingly accidental sweep of her arm followed by profuse apologies and her insistence on buying her a replacement latte. Both of them mopping the table with a handful of napkins, both giggling because of the disapproving glances flashed their way by the numerous pensioners sitting nearby glowering at them.

"Think we have upset all those wrinklies!" Candi had sniggered perhaps a trifle too loudly. She was like that though, an energised little extrovert who to quote her own words 'rarely gave a fuck.'

So much for being discreet and unobtrusive, Hetty had thought. They'd all got a good look at the lively vibrant girl and she certainly wasn't an eyesore. Not even wearing a bra she'd noted as the girl stretched forward dabbing enthusiastically at the damp table-top. Very nice, very firm and juicy with a highly erotic sensuous wobble to them. Titillating tempting tits indeed that made her fingers twitch!

This one though would undoubtedly be missed she'd decided and if her photo appeared in the media, she glanced around at the nearby sullen disproving sour old faces, some of them would be bound to note her and remember. Anyway, she wasn't an expert that's why when necessary she utilised the service of others who offered the appropriate skills for an astronomic price. In this era of cheap security technology, there was probably at least one camera not minding its own damn business, and she lacked the skills to spot such discrete intrusive devices.

Besides, she'd made her mind up a couple of seconds after her arrival. There was something about the girl that appealed to her even at a first hasty glance, and she wasn't averse to having a willing and enthusiastic partner in her bed now and again as opposed to her usual unwilling and far from eager bedmates! When she had a suitable resident one of course.

That aged grotesque silicon filled mega-rich bitch in Orlando would have to wait a little longer before she could sink one of her huge dildos into tight fresh screaming female meat. She gave a mental shrug; there was no danger of losing the order. People understood that such acquisitions took time.

True, for the impatient or slightly less 'well-heeled' there was always a certain amount of 'off the shelf' merchandise floating around, used seconds or just plain third-rate stock. However, those in the mega-rich category were not interested in that type of merchandise. A lot of it had been on and off the shelf far too many times to interest those buyers and those that stayed on the shelf were there because they ultimately attracted nobody but those loathsome ones who indulged in more terminal perversions!

The staff in this place were so damn slow processing your order. Hetty had made her decision at the counter even before sitting as she cast several surreptitious glances towards the table in the far corner. She could think of a dozen and more ways in which her 'educational' methods could have quickly improved service in the establishment!

"So" the girl had said as they dumped the wet napkins into a convenient bin. "Does the sexy lady like what she sees then? " She had grinned in that impish coquettish way of hers and laughed. " Don't think I didn't notice you giving me the once over from the serving counter and you were definitely ogling my two puppies over the table just now weren't you? Maybe be we should play you show me yours, and I'll show you mine!"

The girl had giggled aloud with amusement which didn't go down well at the neighbouring tables either before putting a hand to her face and saying in an over-loud whisper. "Must be pension day so if we play that we'd best go elsewhere otherwise, we'll be knee-deep in cardiac's from the wrinklies" She finished with another giggle and a wink.

The girl was impossible to resist, and after that, the pair were soon chatting quite easily. Eighteen and going on nineteen (but not for a bit yet), long silky blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes plus a fantastic figure packed into her five-foot-four frame. The sort of girl who if she forgot her makeup bag need not worry too much. She would undoubtedly have ticked all the right boxes outwardly in so far as that dried up sixty years plus something old Florida heiress wanted. The personality wouldn't have gone down anything like quite so well, though.

Candi, that was she called herself. Short for candyfloss because she so liked pink and fluffy things. Actually, her name was Sally, but she hated that so never used it other than on the occasional official form. Might even get around to changing it one day she admitted.

No, she would not have done for Mrs Hamilton-Boyce the third, vice-chair of her local Republican party and hawk-faced patron of a dozen different deserving charities on at least on two counts. One, the kid was chock-a-block full with way too much energy, and although you could knock that back somewhat with the appropriate training, this little cutie was like Tiger in Winnie the Pooh, just crammed bang full of bouncy bounce! Not the sort of shrinking little violet who'd meekly submit to her elderly owners plastic dick collection on a nightly basis no matter how many thrashings she received. Not without one hell of a lot of training anyway, and even if you did succeed in breaking her than a lot of her natural charm would disappear.

Two, she was a cheeky little sod who'd coolly tried to chat her up after just a few minutes of conversation and been blatantly suggestive both with words and body language. Well, that alone would have let her off the hook. The lady from the sunshine state wasn't into girls who liked girls. No way. No, her idea of fun was a nice attractive innocent young pastors daughter preferably with an intact hymen she could bust not some streetwise randy young bisexual dyke!

It hadn't taken long for one thing to lead to another. A second meet up for lunchtime coffee, a theatre come dinner date and a passionate night in a hotel followed by a few more similar nights. Candi shared a flat with two other girls and usually at least one of thems current useless sponging resident boyfriend. No, she didn't have one of her own nor wanted one. She was a free spirit and enjoyed bedding girl's way too much although on occasions she wasn't averse to riding a suitable sizeable cock if its owner was cute enough to take her fancy.

Of course, they could have gone back to Hetty's vastly more luxurious and expensive place but there were two other residents housed there that made the idea impractical. On previous occasions, that number could have gone as high as three, but that was quite rare. The enchantingly nubile Candi not only had bags of energy but also possessed a far too inquisitive nature. Not the sort of person to let loose when you had serious criminal secrets to hide no matter how obsessed you were with her.

That had changed one night about six months or so ago when she'd introduced the little minx to one of her latest projects. An introduction that had proved more than sufficient incentive for her little playmate to immediately move in full time with her older paramour.

Chance pillow talk between two well-sated lovers had brought the subject up. Hetty had lain there in the darkness one night feeling fully satisfied and serenely content, not to mention a trifle exhausted. She usually preferred to take an active role, virtually always in fact but with Candi it was different. The girl was a zestful hedonistic bed mate bubbling with that seemingly unlimited energy and she also liked to be the one on top or taking the initiative. Early in the relationship, they'd wrestled a couple of times for that perk and Candi had won each time easily.

Consequently, it was Hetty that was usually writhing beneath her lover as the little blonde beauties strap-on pounded her with all the power of a run-away pile-driver! If it wasn't that, then an inexhaustible pink tongue pinned her writhing older lovers lower torso to the mattress as it alternately raped or caressed her greedy pussy. Nor were her mouth, lips and tits or ass ignored. God the little cutie was so intense she left bruises just from the force of her lips and relentless greedy exploring fingers. Exhausted and she was the passive half!

Hetty often smiled to herself as she writhed in orgasmic pleasure wondering what the Florida pensioner would have made of Candi. Was that shy little mouse of an alternative she'd eventually sent her as good? Well her loss was Hetty's gain and had proved to be doubly so. Up to that point, their mutual lust had been purely for the physical coming together of two liberated and unashamedly hedonistic bodies.

Laying side by side in the dark the tall slim auburn-haired alabaster skinned forty-three-year-old and the shorter more curvaceous blonde tanned newly turned nineteen year old were idly swapping sex stories and fantasies. Hetty was beginning to feel randy again helped in part by her lovers left hand absently fondling her right breast very gently. She wondered if she dare introduce subjects of a more sinister and bizarre nature. How would her frisky young bed mate react to that line of thought?

It was Candi who unexpectedly broke the forbidden ice first. "You know what I'd really like to do with this one day," she said thoughtfully holding aloft the slightly curved still damp dildo in her right hand the harness straps draped down her arm. "I'd love to give some useless guy an ultra-long taste of this big beauty. Ram the thing good and hard right up his man cunt with me humping him like crazy on the other end of it!"

"Well you can certainly ram hard and long honey" Hetty replied and then added after a moments thought.

"Suppose he wasn't too keen on the idea though?"

"Like how big mama?"

Hetty took the plunge. "Like say he had no choice in the matter pet. Say none at all."

"Wow, cool, mega cool!"

"You think so?"

Candi laughed. "So much the better. Always have had wicked thoughts about doing nasty things to guys and girls who didn't want to play some of the games I'd like to play. You know I was always in trouble at school when I was a kid for beating up the school wimps in the play-ground even though I was just a titchy little bitch." she laughed again and waved the dildo. "Not just guys either I can think of a few stuck-up cunts I'd like to give a good dickin to as well - both holes front and back!" she sighed deeply. "maybe even whip the fuckers raw a little first".

Hetty had considered for a moment then rolled over and slid on top of her young lover, kissed her on the lips then whispered. "How nasty pet? Just a bit nasty or really cruel and no going back type nasty?"

Candi enthusiastically kissed her back. "Oh, all the way nasty pretty please, Mama H, no pussyfooting around.

Make the fuckers sing loudly for their supper" She broke off to chuckle wickedly. "well scream for me anyway" she sighed and then giggled. "shit I wouldn't want to pussyfoot about, no fifty shades of grey rubbish, I'd settle for just a couple of shades of black and blue regularly on a nice fat sweetly wriggling helpless backside".

"Male or female?"

Candi stuck her tongue out to meet her lovers and they entwined for a moment. "Doesn't matter a damn?" Candi said a moment later. "I always way played way too rough with my dolls anyway, most of them ended up limbless!" She paused and gave her older lover a sharp look. "Why do I get this feeling that you're about to get my little love button all afire? "

Hetty thought about it. Fuck, it was one hell of a decision to make. A selfish one as well given how many other people could be dropped in the very same shit along with her and it would be deep deep in the proverbial shit too! Nor were some of them very nice people either. That said none of them were 'nice people' were they, herself included by normal standards?

She gave a long, thoughtful sigh. Then again, this soft, warm self-indulgent bewitching little bundle beside her was made for and lived for debauched pleasure didn't she? Plus, there were ways to ensure naughty over-talkative little girls were neither seen nor heard weren't there if they talked to people they ought not to? Candi had said she always wanted to go to Disneyland. A trip to Florida could still be arranged if she got too gobby.

She pushed up on her elbows, turning to bend and kiss the girl again. "Well maybe I can help you be a bit nasty if you want, or even a lot nasty" she broke off and lowered her head to kiss and nibble upon a perky aroused nipple gently. " and maybe I know someone you can be nasty with but who won't want my pretty little girl to be all nasty with him, fact I can guarantee he won't enjoy it one teeny weeny little bit darling" she kissed the other nipple and slowly licked at it.

Candi moaned softly and wriggled beneath her. "Mmmm. Real nasty big mama" she whispered eagerly. "You promise?"

"Real nasty baby and for just a long as you fucking well want, I promise...ouch!"

Hetty yelped as Candi quickly wriggled out from under her and pushed her firmly back against the pillows two fingers thrusting deep into her moist pussy. Before she could even speak the girl had her tongue flicking in and out of her mouth and licking all over her face like an excited puppy causing her to yelp partly with shock but mostly with delight.

Candi it appeared was taking her very seriously and was making damn sure she pleased her enough to get a shot at whatever she thought was being offered her. Not that she had a clue yet. Hetty smiled even as she writhed with pleasure. The little blonde beauty lived for sex, and she knew for absolute certain she'd relish having some new playmates - even if the pleasurable aspects were a bit one-sided. Correction. Make that entirely one-sided!

Hetty was munching on her third slice of toast and marmalade as she made her way to the enormous conservatory come greenhouse. That was one of the few things she did find annoying about Candi. The little bitch could eat anything, absolutely anything and never seemed to add on so much as an ounce of extra fat to that oh so sexy shapely little figure of hers.

Burgers, French fries, potato chips even cream fucking doughnuts. Geez, cream doughnuts, when had she last indulged herself with one of those or even fresh cream. The giggling little minx had once taken a pot of whipped double cream to bed with them, smearing it onto and into her lovers pussy than indulging herself by slowly licking it off and selfishly refusing to share her treasure with her partner. Sternly slapping her greedy hands away and maliciously pinching at her breasts and waist. 'Not for you bitch 'she'd cheekily told her 'Don't want you getting all fat and wobbly' do I!

God she really could be a callous little madam couldn't she! Never gave the slightest thought when she decided to trash the kitchen cooking herself a massive greasy fry up or sat watching reality TV steadily munching through a whole box of Belgian chocolates.

Callous. That was a good word Hetty thought as she opened the conservatory door and surveyed the single occupant. Cold, cruel, heartless, unfeeling, pitiless, etc. Yes, callous but did that word even begin to plumb that darker side of her little playmate?

Conservatory was perhaps the wrong way to describe it. The house had originally been built in an L shape. The conservatory for want of a better term was effectively a very large room that turned the lower part of the building into a square. Solid walls with the original house windows on two sides, PVC and glass on the other two looking out into the private high walled over-grown garden, a glazed roof overhead to allow plenty of light.

The sides facing the garden could be covered with blinds for discretion and privacy, drawn as they were now, but there was still plenty of light through the glass ceiling. All the houses on this extremely exclusive development were very private none of them being able to overlook another. You would need to have been in a low flying helicopter to have caught the slightest glimpse of anything unusual going on down below.

Hetty approached the figure in the centre of the room. The lazy little bitch had trashed the bathroom and left the kitchen in the usual mess but as always had found time to fasten 'Tiptoe' to the walker before dashing off to jostle with the sweaty masses. Also, she noted, time to lay the cane or something similar hard across his rump judging by the three fresh livid red stripes on view oozing specs of blood.

The large spacious area had originally been added by its architect owner as a huge open yet enclosed recreational space for his elderly mother who used a wheelchair. Space where she could be left safely indoors and yet employ her green-fingered enthusiasm within what served as greenhouse, conservatory, summer house combined and gave the sensation of being outside when the roof panes were fully open during the more clement times of the year.

Hetty had made a few alterations to the room as she had to the other parts of the house chiefly the basement areas rarely used by the previous owner. The blinds had been one addition, and various pieces of specialised equipment stood around the room. Some of it innocent like the gym pieces Candi loved to use, other less so.

One of the delightful features was the amount of greenery still on view via the numerous large pots and growing in the long plant troughs under the windows that had retained the 'out of doors' feeling to the big room. Candi loved it and had a workspace over in one corner where she could set up her laptop when 'working at home', she could from there keep a convenient eye on the other occupants and attend to them as she felt necessary.

That was probably the main reason for her delight Hetty had long since concluded. She enjoyed the normality of sitting typing away on her keyboard, answering emails from some faceless office-bound drudge elsewhere and performing other mundane daily administrative tasks. Relished the contrast betwixt doing that while some hapless wretch laboured under duress only a couple of meters away from where she sat. Duress that she was frequently responsible for and could decrease or increase upon a whim. The two total opposites undoubtedly appealed to that sadistic streak in her. The normal and the abnormal!

Tiptoe was, as usual, walking around and around, not that he had the slightest choice but to do so. He'd been doing that now daily for what, two months at least? Hetty had numerous pieces of 'special' equipment or furniture in her house, but of them all, the training walker had always been Candi's favourite by far, and she'd consigned 'her very own' creature to it from the start.

Hetty watched the circling man for a moment thoughtfully chewing on a mouthful of toast and coarse cut marmalade. Come to think of it had Candi ever strapped him to anything else. He'd been the birthday present she'd given her young lover as a belated eighteenth when she celebrated her nineteenth. She couldn't recall ever seeing him screaming on the flogging bench or at the whipping post or any other apparatus.

Candi loved to do what she called 'the introductions'. Every one of the others that she'd had through including the two who presently resided beneath her feet had been fastened upon such apparatus and writhed in agony for her little lovers' amusement but Tiptoe? No, now she came to think about it. Strange! She eyed the half-eaten piece of toast in her hand, way too much butter, should she? Fuck it, she was hungry and walked quietly forward taking another bite.

He was forty-two years old, considerably older than most of the unwilling house guests she dealt with but that had been something Candi had specifically requested. Youth was usually one of the prime requirement when a customer placed an order. Likewise, the 'wild' ones their own agents delivered to her for the required specialised training. Thirty would have been deemed old by the usual standards in this business, certainly by the men she did business with. They invariably wanted their girls or boys depending on their sexual preferences at the younger end of the spectrum. Eighteen to twenty-five was the norm!

The only regular exceptions among her clients were a middle-aged lesbian couple with a passion for 'schoolgirls'; only their girls had to be around the same age as themselves and not too disciplined upon delivery for their first (and only) extended term. They weren't the least bit fussy about looks, merely age which was useful. They just required that the 'new girl' received some elementary tuition in the more intimate aspects pertaining to her future curriculum plus a familiarity with wearing the uniform they conveniently provided.

Such education would continue indefinitely at their remote establishment as they sat attentively upright behind wooden desks or as was more likely in the case of a new girl, received permission to stand as sitting might prove too painful during the first few weeks! There was an open invite for Hetty to visit them; perhaps it might be interesting to take it up one day soon. Candi would enjoy it if only to renew acquaintance with one 'girl' she'd taken quite a shine to some months back!

The other exception to the general rule was a rather nasty little madam in Texas who looked much younger than her twenty-two years, who spent her time betwixt playing the 'All American singing cutie pie daughter, daddy's darling girl' in a popular much-loved family TV comedy show and her private ranch come farm down near a very remote portion of the US/Mexican border.

It was doubtful that the occupants of her extensive stable loved her! Not the Mexican youths secretly transported across the line to serve as geldings providing the required leg muscle needed for hauling the establishments' varied agricultural implements. Nor the mature European women she favoured who occupied other stalls as ponygirls unless assigned to duties in her bedroom. At least the latter could look forward, if that was the right way to put it, to a longer miserable existence than the creatures who provided 'cheap' labour in her fields. They had less value and could be readily replaced when they died in harness under the brutality of their cruel little owner or the vicious biker dyke overseers she favoured!

She popped the last portion of toast into her mouth and absently brushed some crumbs from her chin. Round and round strode Tiptoe. Round and round and round in that endless circle. Each time he approached her, his head turned sharply toward her in a respectful salute as Candi had taught him before snapping back to face his front as he marched passed.

That was an amusing not to mention appropriately respectful touch Hetty thought. She even knew where the idea had come from. One of her powerful clients had invited her to attend the 'Trooping of the Colour' the age-old military ceremony to mark the Queens official birthday. Whatever an 'official birthday' was?

She and Candi had taken their allocated seats among all the invited guests in the temporary stand erected for the pageant dressed in their most respectable finery. Their escort, a ramrod backed retired senior military man in immaculate uniform, had courteously pointed out the various aspects and stages of the ceremony. Candi had thoroughly enjoyed the morning as they sat among all the officials, beribboned officers and their poised elegant wives. Bouncing in her seat like an overexcited child and pointing out to her companions, the various political or other recognisable prominent personages who were in attendance.

Some of those posh-looking wives were clearly annoyed when they caught the surreptitious glances their spouses had directed in the little sexpots' direction! Well, that wasn't uncommon. It happened most places she took the sexy young madam be it West End theatre or just a burger in Mcdonalds. Skin-tight ripped jeans and a tight crop top or Sunday best modest skirt and jacket she caught the eye and not always of men!

The only male person in the vicinity who was quite indifferent to her nubile charms was their gracious escort. His preferences were confined exclusively to the three rubber-clad teenaged boys occupying cages in the basement of his townhouse in the custody of the Polish Amazon he employed to keep an eye on them and to ensure they were ever tractable to his needs. Two of them she herself had supplied, and he was contemplating adding a fourth, a young twenty-year-old Moroccan immigrant who had been unlucky enough to catch the ageing, yet exceedingly virile, sodomites appraising eye.

It was that smart 'eyes right' movement as the columns marched past the royal presence that had delighted Candi. All those heads instantly turning as one. Likewise, all those legs and arms moving in perfect unison. Not a one out of sequence with his fellows as the marching masses went through their intricate manoeuvres in perfect obedience to the shouted commands. Perfect obedience was something else Candi rightly appreciated.

Round and round, round and round, round and round. Hetty made a mental note that she must get that walker checked over and serviced at some point. When she'd had it installed a few years ago, she hadn't ever envisaged it being used near continuously like this. Candi had the damn thing going every day for hours at a time.

The mechanism had been cleverly fixed up in the ceiling, obviating the need for any unsightly supporting pole within the room. Four arms sprouted from the hub and from each dangled a tether that could be raised or lowered by remote control. Three of them were at the top fully retracted and the fourth connected Tiptoe to his relentless impersonal, mechanical overseer.

The devices prime purpose was to assist in the training of ponygirls and ponyboys or at a much slower speed and with the tethers fully extended in remotely walking puppy dogs and bitches thus relieving her of that tedious chore. Prior to Candi taking up permanent residence with her, it had not seen a great deal of use. There were several establishments she knew about with facilities and equipment much more appropriate for accommodating, breaking, training and utilising human equines. Consequently, the devices use had been limited, and until recently, she had begun to regret installing it, considering what it had cost.

Round and round he went and always in the same direction, anti-clockwise. She wondered if Candi knew that it could move in both directions? Perhaps not. Poor wretch, she might at least give him a tiny change in the circular hell to which she had consigned him.

A buzzer sounded softly, and Tiptoe abruptly shook his head from side to side as though to ward off or deny what he knew would happen. Funny how he always did that Hetty thought, did he actually imagine that he could avoid the consequences of allowing himself to be lazy. The device was quite sophisticated with numerous sensors that observed every step he took and could be adjusted by the operator either on that console over there or remotely. Candi had him 'high stepping'. He had to lift his legs to a precise height and position with every single step like a well-trained ponygirl being put through her dressage paces by a meticulous owner.

The buzzer was an alert that he had failed to do so either for a set sequential number of steps or so many times within a given period, perhaps both. It even offered a 'reprieve' function should he manage to go a specific time without incurring further demerits. It depended on what his sadistic little owner had programmed. That alert could trigger an automatic punishment or if she hadn't switched that on then it would alert her remotely to his transgression.

No doubt Candi was keeping an eye on him from her workplace via that remote camera. Her colleagues little knowing that with a simple touch of a button on her cell phone, she could reduce someone to a jabbering pain-wracked zombie! Then again, they didn't know about Mary either did they. Whatever had happened to her, they must wonder. Poor virginal, prudish, oh-so conventional, dull, plain-faced little myopic Mary. Well, she wouldn't need her thick glasses to regularly feel the cane across her skinny butt or a big knobbly dildo up her cunt over there in Orlando, Florida. Nor would her plain face bother her new owner who much preferred what was in the bitches head to the fašade! How it had amused Candi to select her annoying office nemesis as her own replacement!

He screamed aloud in agony as the pain shot through him searing the most intimate portions of his helpless body with that awful unbearable electric shock. He had to bear it though because he had no other choice nor could he even enjoy the relief of venting his agony in a full-blooded vocal roar, not with that wretched gag in his mouth restricting him to a muted anguished animal-like howl.

He screamed again as the awful shock rocked him anew. There was no escape from it as the electric fire hit all those sensitive spots. The metal butt plug that raped his tender rectum, the tight cage that contained his bent shrivelled penis, the clips attached to his nipples. He stumbled and would have fallen but for the anchoring tether, it gave a fraction as its nasty emotionless electronic brain recognised what was happening, paused, then pulled him back so that he regained his footing before resuming its continuous rotation.

'No, please no' he pleaded silently into his gag as his legs regained their rhythm. He almost wept, 'please no' he begged silently, but his prayers were not answered, the unseen bitch gave him a third jolt. He managed to stay on his feet partly because he had been expecting it despite his unheard pleas and because he knew there was no other choice.

His legs rose and fell rose and fell as he resumed that endless hated walk. God in heaven, he thought to himself three shocks, three shocks already, and the day has hardly begun. Three fucking shocks. He head snapped automatically sideways as he approached the older bitch hating himself for doing it like some mindless automaton and hating even more that amused smile on her attractive face.

Attractive! Yeah gods, what did he mean by that. Christ that was the evil bitch who'd given him to the little hellhound. Given him like he was something she'd bought at the supermarket! No, purchased at the toy shop or pet shop because that's all he was wasn't he now. Some damn pet or toy to be treated like shit by that perverted little bitch worse than any pet could ever be treated. Ordinary sane people didn't torture their damn pets did they!

Three fucking shocks. He shivered as he walked that ridiculous demanding, demeaning walk. Trembled as he thought upon it. Three fucking shocks. He knew only too well what that meant, would mean to him. Three fucking shocks she must be having a bad day at the office!

The little bitch would have upped it a notch. Please, please let it only be one notch. Three shocks was her sign to tell him that she wasn't happy. Three fucking shocks meant that she'd tweak the hellish device upwards. How far it went, he did not know and hoped he never would know. He did know that the device was set to level three as a starter, that's what the bitch had told him so many, what was it, weeks or months ago and promptly demonstrated the bloody thing to him numerous times as he rolled about screaming at the top of his voice.

Level three and so far he'd managed not to stray too often into higher territory. He'd experienced four numerous times, five more than a couple of times. Twice he'd had a six and once when he had foolishly got very truculent she'd given him a seven but he barely remembered it other than the momentary paralysing intense burning agony before he'd passed out.

God, even those few seconds, he never wanted to through that again though he must have blacked out almost immediately. No sooner had he come round then she had oh so sweetly told him that if he ever behaved like that again, she'd fry his testicles off his body. You don't need them now anyway boy do you. Its nor as if I will ever be letting you squirt your filthy man juices out of that little pee wee I keep locked up.

No, even a ten or higher would not kill you the smiling little bitch had casually told him but keep in mind there that are even worse things that I can do to you and I will. I'll do them slowly, very very very slowly boy. Then she'd give him a string of number three's again topped off with a five as a reminder as to his future conduct.

He had no clock nor any means of telling time which he reckoned was probably a good thing. Then again was it? No stimulus, nothing changed. Sometimes it was lighter sometimes darker. Sometimes the bitch was here watching him for hours on end and sometimes she wasn't. Occasionally some other wretch was brought in to share his misery but they always fastened whoever it was directly behind so that he couldn't see them. They even halted the walker in a position where he could not see the new arrival.

He could hear them though, listen to them squeal as one of his tormentors used a whip or some other terrible implement on them. Sometimes it sounded like a woman and occasionally masculine. Those were usually the worst of days anyway for him because that fucking pair of sadists would not limit themselves and their nasty toys to the newcomer alone. Oh no, he would receive similar physical 'encouragement' as well no matter how well he was performing. Bastards!

His legs he recognised were beginning to show the first signs of the familiar 'ache', but he probably had the usual endless day ahead of him. He had learned how to pace himself, how to ignore those aches, how to get through so that he could what...do it all over again the next fucking day and the day after that and so on that's fucking what!

Candi watched him impassively for another couple of minutes. It was strange she thought how she never ever tired of watching him, and it wasn't as though it was the most interesting spectacle in the whole wide world, watching that middle-aged clown plod around and around in circles. It was clit tingling addictive though when coupled with the knowledge that she and she alone was responsible for his predicament and so she never tired of it. How could she? Anyway, if she got the urge for a little extra entertainment, all she had to do was press one tiny button icon and then watch the fucker scream and writhe! One teeny little icon now wasn't that so damn cool.

She turned her attention back to the laptop and quickly finished the email, read it through twice, changed a couple of words, added an entirely new paragraph, thought about it, waivered and then deleted her addition before she hit send. That done she picked her cell phone up again and checked how many defaults Tiptoe had built up since she'd shocked him. Not bad she thought, not a one yet, he usually fluctuated a bit and picked up a couple immediately after she punished him, well it was still early in the day and so far he hadn't managed a single day without getting shocked numerous times. Maybe one day she thought then smiled wickedly, again perhaps not.

She looked at the time. Should she go to lunch early, beat the crowd, the usual one till two lunch crowd. Get herself a big Mac and then pop down to check out that new shop on the high street, they had some pretty cool gear in there, see if they did those cool tops on the window display dummies in pink. Now one of those would look oh so sexy on her she thought especially if she got one a size too small.

"Heya kiddo, wool-gathering again?"

Karen appeared in her cubicle with the days' mail and a couple of large manila folders containing preliminary reports that had been sent over so that she could run an eye over them. Much more importantly also had some photos of her little Kylies fourth birthday party at the weekend, oh so cute with all her little friends in their respective fairy-tale fancy dress outfits and with their beaming proud mums in matching costumes.

The little golden Labrador puppy they had bought her, oh so appealingly adorable with those big soft brown eyes. That shot of her cuddling it. Oh, and the thank you note little Kylie had crayoned herself thanking her for her present. (Penned with a tiny bit of help from mum Karen had chuckled). Oh, but still so sweet, uber mega sweet, the little honey. Big big big kisses from Aunty Candi for her.

Her smiling eyes absently followed Karen for a second as she headed for her next mail drop then she glanced down at the phone again and frowned. Uh oh, the stupid asshole was backsliding fast, better get those legs lifted and improve pronto boy or she'd have to deliver another little reminder to the fucker wouldn't she. Would it be a four or should she jump straight to five, that would liven the useless fucker up! Decisions decisions? Should she up the walkers' speed as well or perhaps change his routine. Watching him do the 'goosestep' was always so hilarious.

Her glance fell on the note as she pondered, so cute and done in pink crayon, her favourite colour, especially for her as well! She picked up the earpiece attached to the phone and held it to one ear then tapped once on the phone and she watched and heard him scream, jump and writhe like the helpless puppet he was. No harm in giving the lazy bastard an early reminder. That was so uber-cute though; maybe she'd buy the little darling a small thank you for it while she was on lunch break.

Hetty had decided that she might as well get some use out of the walker too. She'd paid for the damned thing after all besides she couldn't shake off her earlier malaise, she was feeling lazy today for some reason. Maybe she was sickening for something, hopefully not. Anyway, the walker would free her from more physical efforts. She'd feed them both and then...two or just the one? Just the one she decided, she and Candi had been pretty rough yesterday evening playing with Stacey but that had been entirely the stubborn bitch's own fault.

All she had to do was get her head down and crawl obediently between Hetty's wide-spread legs and use her tongue to do what she'd already done twice before, but oh no, the silly bitch had decided to go all puritan on them! Stupid girl. Well, she had learned once again that refusal was never a viable option and performed adequately in the end.

Candi had taken that initial refusal a bit too personally and had used the cane a little bit too enthusiastically to persuade her though, but that wasn't unusual. She was prone to do that when confronted with wilful disobedience, especially if they'd been here long enough to know better. Patience wasn't her strong suit. This sort of training always was three steps forward, two and a half backwards in the early days. Experience told her that it might be best to give the girl a decent break, let her bottom recover. Give the bitch twenty-four hours then tomorrow night they could make her take a more passive role and introduce both her love holes to the 'delights' of the strap-on!

Mind made up she descended to her cellar complex, down to the little kitchen and quickly mixed a variety of ingredients then slopped the unappetising but healthy concoction into two plastic pet food bows, half-filled the stainless steel water bowls that occupied the other slot in the dog feeder trays and took them out to the row of nearby cells.

There were only four. Not that she had ever needed more or ever envisaged or even considered expanding. Why should she? One occupant was usual, two occasionally and for a month three a couple of times and once even four. The last had been a special case though as two had been a married couple. A first for her and unlikely to be repeated very often if ever. This was a short-term training establishment, not some overcrowded government penitentiary for pampered inmates to idle away in at the taxpayers' expense.

There was supposedly a 'for real' place she'd heard about in Greece that operated along those lines. Gossip on the grapevine said a couple with extreme right-wing views ran it. Dissatisfied by what they considered 'liberal' attitudes to criminality they had set up their own 'long-term' facility for those to whom they felt the authorities had been over lenient with not to mention providing suitable candidates for their sadistic amusement!

Funded by their billion-dollar shipping company, they ensured that suitable deserving subjects upon release from official correctional establishments found themselves in the hands of a specialist rehabilitation charity. The more unfortunate of them being quickly whisked away to a bleak fortress situated on one of the myriad small islands in the Aegean to find a regime where the word correction had a more sinister connotation!

Hetty wondered how much truth there was in that particular rumour. Possibly quite a lot. In her experience of this global underworld of depravity and perversion, the more unusual or bizarre such sounded then the more likely it was to be true.

Her cells were in a row, four ten by six-foot cubicles divided by breeze-block walls and fronted by steel bars and a similar door. The original concept when she'd designed it was just to have barred cells but thinking it over she'd decided that a solid wall been units was better. It was nothing to do with privacy just that she thought it would be better and safer if the occupants could not see each or try to communicate with each other.

One cell held the terrified Stacey who was crouched cowering back against the far wall as she entered like some small rodent at the approach of a hungry cat. The girl was vainly trying to cover her naked body with her thin arms and making faint squeaky noises into her gag, thus enhancing the rodent impression. Funny how they all did that modesty bit when new Hetty thought as if it was going to matter in the long run.

She placed the food tray near the entrance and approached the cowering girl. "Sorry room service is a bit late today" she smirked. "but then the three of us had such a fun-filled energetic couple of hours yesterday, didn't we?"

Not that her victim could answer her other than fill her big blue eyes with tears. No great looker this one but certainly the bodywork made up for it. She made a mental note to get Candi down here with her bottomless makeup bag. Teach the bitch to make the best of what she had above the neck and maybe a change of hairstyle. The bitch was a third paid for, but a touch of gloss would not harm in ensuring that the balance was settled without a quibble.

"All of it: she commanded, looking back as she closed the cell door and hung the red ball gag on a convenient hook. "I want to find that food bowl spotless; you know how Miss Candi hates to see good food wasted, don't you? I am sure we both remember what happened the last time you decided that you weren't hungry!"

It was funny; you could almost see her doubling her effort to gobble down the unpleasant stuff in the bowl at the very mention of Candi's name. Not a peep out of her either when the gag was removed, she was learning fast. Head down, hands behind her back as she'd been taught eating like an animal. No doubt that fresh collection of vivid red stripes across her big wobbling bottom had been the final straw. Maybe tomorrow night she'd start learning to smile sweetly and open her legs wide with enthusiasm the better to offer herself in welcome to the huge toys her trainers would introduce her to?

Animal, occupied the next cell but one and had done for the last ten days and had the better part of five months of his enforced residence still to go A huge naked black man heavily restrained and certainly the wildest, and most powerfully built captive her little dungeon complex had ever housed. If he ever got loose! Fortunately, the two Miss's Gregson to whom he belonged had been only too aware of that danger and ensured that the likelihood of him ever regaining his freedom was very remote. A nailed on impossibility in fact with those steel restraints!

It wasn't something she had ever done before, but the two elderly sisters had been so sweetly insistent plus she had done business with them in the past. They had been so, so very profusely apologetic as well for the inconvenience but then the considerable financial incentive they had offered was also highly attractive. Anyway, if nothing else she'd decided upon thinking it over, it would keep Candi amused for a long time! She so loved 'big bad boys'. The bigger and badder the better and so this enormous brute's arrival had delighted her!

The pair of plump elderly spinsters had arrived very late at night, again both of them apologising profusely for the lateness of the hour as they climbed stiffly out of their van in the safety of her large garage.

"We wanted to make the journey in one go; you see" Cissie the elder said, "Didn't we Daisy?"

"Quite correct dear. We could have stopped at...at, what is the name of that so nice hotel we have stayed at before dear, I seem to have forgotten?


"Ah yes, a delightful place, they even make their own savoury breakfast sausages you know! Anyway, even though we have it all quite safe and secure in the van, we both thought it best if we didn't stop. Normally, of course, we are accepting not delivering so it's been a new experience for us. You hear all these shocking stories almost every day now about some poor tradesman having his tools stolen from his van. People are so wicked these days!"

"Wicked" Cissie agreed. "so we packed a couple of flasks of tea for the journey."

"Cucumber and tuna sandwiches as well and some Eccles cakes" her sister added.

"It was an accident you see dear" Cissie told the hovering Candi. "We are both getting on in years now as you can see for yourself.....my how I would love to be your age again. How lovely she looks, doesn't she Daisy?"

"A perfect poppet, but we can't stand here all night Cissie, these nice young people need their beauty sleep and so do you and I, although I fear we are both beyond such beneficial slumber repairing the ravages of time!"

Cissie giggled. "Way beyond. Anyway, as we told you on the telephone, we had booked this cruise..."

"Around the world, right around all the way" her sister chortled. "Won't it be such jolly good fun?"

"Spiffing, but the point is," said her older sister firmly, "we had always cherished intentions of undertaking such an adventure, but in the past, always...." She threw her hands wide.

"Responsibilities" Daisy chimed in. "We always had several long term responsibilities to think about, going away for months, in any case, it's not like asking a neighbour to come in and feed you cats is it?" she asked Candi.

"No, no, I suppose not" the girl looked both amused and a little confused.

"Quite so, well let's cut the story short" Cissie declared. "One of us gossips far too much!"

"Well, we both know who that is don't we dear" Daisy snapped back.

Cissie ignored her. "We haven't any neighbours anyway, nor cats come to that! Indeed, we had reached a point for one reason or another whereby we only had only one such responsibility remaining, but a dear dear friend had always admired and coveted her so that was no problem. We were both tired of her anyway. Then, of course, we were both free for the first time in years and years."

"Years and years and now totally free" her sister echoed. "Not that we intend to retire entirely from our little amusements you understand" she paused and made a motion as though cracking a whip, "once we get back of course, but for now, not a care in the world" she laughed.

Cissie scowled and sighed. "Well, it was all arranged, booked and paid for..."

"Best cabins as well, a deluxe suite with huge windows to view the beautiful ocean and a private balcony plus all the lovely going ashore trips, everything" Daisy interrupted then frowned. "Do you think we will sit with the captain for dinner every night, dear?"

Hetty and Candi shared an amused glance, and a silent shared thought. 'not if the captain can help it!'

"Daisy! Please, dear! Now anyway we leave on Tuesday".

"Southampton.....sorry dear!"

"We - leave - on - Tuesday - morning - early" Cissie repeated slowly glaring at her sister. "It just so happened that totally out of the blue, totally unexpected, the very last thing either of us had anticipated"

"The very last" her echo agreed "but of course we couldn't help ourselves could we Cissie, we just had to have it!"

"Had to, well this is what happened" Cissie opened the old van and pulled the thick cover off a sturdy steel cage and nodded towards the crouching occupant confined within.

"He's so big and beautiful, isn't he? Couldn't resist, simply could not resist and all so wonderfully safe and so uncomplicated" Daisy amplified jumping up and down clapping her hands gleefully and pointing toward the manacled figure then halted abruptly as a sudden thought struck "You don't think that I will be seasick do you?"

Part 2 (added: 2020/07/09)

Round and round. Step, step, step. Round and round. Knee-high, thigh parallel to the floor. Step, step, step. On and on. A couple of hours into this eternal torture and his feet were beginning to hurt now as well, adding to the aches and the general misery of his hopeless existence. Every dozen or so revolutions he would cast a malevolent glance towards the control panel situated by the little blonde bitches desk. What tell-tale notes was its rotten uncaring electronic brain busily recording and sending to her he wondered. Fucking digital snitch! The bitch had already shocked him twice more. How many painful jolts would he get before she upped it again?

The little madam had even manoeuvred the big mirror into position before she left to give him a constant reminder of his horrible predicament. It wasn't always within his limited view and never on those rare occasions when they added some other poor sod to the endless treadmill-oh no, watching some other poor soul suffer like him might be classed as 'entertainment' for him. Something to break the mind-numbing monotony, something different. Something out of the ordinary! Was that how these crazy sadistic bitches thought? To deny him even the slightest contact with a fellow sufferer. Not only physical but also psychological torture!

There was another low warning buzz a slightly different one. He started, jolted out of his thoughts for he knew what it meant. Shit, shit and double shit! He immediately straightened up, stretching his spine. 'Walk tall, walk proud, walk gracefully! Don't you dare slouch for me, boy!' The latter command almost always accompanied by a stroke of fire across his back or bottom from her cane. That damn beep. Another little reminder from that electronic sneak straight to her cell phone that his posture had slipped by a millimetre or whatever the nasty little blonde perfectionist wanted!

He forced himself to take another peek in the mirror as he marched past. An image of helpless captive misery that he had seen a thousand times before and yet somehow never accept nor could fully comprehend within his mind that the pitiful figure was actually his reflected mirror twin!

A marching majorette a near-naked middle-aged male perversion of one, harnessed and booted as he marched that ridiculous march going nowhere at a pace set by his heartless task-mistress. Heeled knee boots on his legs, a collar around his neck, a corset confining his midriff, his head gagged and bridled. Nor was there a baton for him to twirl. How could there be with his arms bound and folded in a punishing leather and metal pouch behind his back that was never removed?

Yes, his feet recently crammed into a new pair of boots were hurting now not that it would make one iota of difference to them. Not to that, those two evil witches. He'd once heard them quite seriously discussing castrating some poor bastard. Jesus fucking Christ and he could believe that they would do that! Do it! How could he not after all these days of pointless, brutal captivity. It wasn't even the horrible inhuman act that had scared him but more the casual matter of fact way they had discussed it sitting on that garden seat swigging wine! Hell, people agonised far more about getting their new puppies neutered than had that cold-hearted pair weighing the pros and cons of 'snipping' some other poor guy they'd got their claws upon!

No, they hadn't actually 'snipped' him, but they'd damn well done the next nearest thing hadn't they! His penis was bent and locked into a steel cage, tight metal rings dividing and separating his testicles. Not only was he a captive but the bitches had virtually demasculinised him as well, his waist and upper body permanently clad in the grip of a horrible leather and steel corset that the little bitch had fastened about him. How the hell did she expect him to breath with that cruel garment garrotting his midriff, nor was it ever eased, not even by the smallest fraction. Foolish perhaps to even expect such a small mercy; instead, the little sadist regularly did the very opposite if she detected the slightest amount of give in the horrible garment.

He would stand there dumb, helpless, humiliated as she smiled up at him, wiggling the forefinger of her right hand in his face-a small dainty finger with a long-painted nail. Hers or a false one, he didn't know, but almost every time the paint and design were different. Then still smiling that cruel smile, a pink tongue would emerge from between pink glossed lips to sensuously lick the digit, her glorious sparkling blue eyes holding his, mocking him, revelling in her absolute authority. Then the dainty hand would drop, and the finger would probe, wriggling wetly between the unyielding leather band that encircled him and his bare skin. Sometimes it slid in easily, and at other it required a little more effort.

Not one word would she say, he might as well not be there, but unfortunately, he was and time and time again she had produced that little steel hexagonal key and gone behind his back, grasped him with a firm hand and then he heard and felt her turn some fastenings that made a ratchet clicking noise. One notch, two? That awful noose strangling his belly tightening to add yet one more brick to his wall of misery! It would get worse, as well. He knew that, but why?

They seemed to forget that he had ears and a brain. They might have stifled his voice with the gags that muffled everything bar his muted animal-like screams, but he could still hear, still think although perhaps that was more curse than a blessing! The older bitch sometimes measured his waist with a tape measure. The little bitch never did. If the older one mentioned it she'd just laugh and say something like 'no point bothering with that yet; fat boy here has' got a long way to go before I am satisfied'.

Fat! He'd never been overweight! Grotesque that was the word that now came into his mind when he saw that reflected image. A pale white-skinned emancipated figure devoid of all hair. Not a single one had she left him save his eyelashes, and even those she might have taken had not she taken such pleasure in watching him pitifully blinking away his 'so cute tears' when she made him cry for her. Even his nose and ears had received brutal attention from a pair of tweezers!

He'd never been to a gym in his life nor had the slightest inclination to visit one, neither he felt needing to lose weight or gain muscle. Average he thought himself, ok maybe a shade on the lighter side of average but unlikely to be the recipient wimp who gets sand kicked in his face at the beach by some muscled bound oaf! Fat, no way before and not now after this starvation diet they fed him. God, what did that little witch intend him to look like, a long-term concentration camp inmate? Christ that little fucker would have felt right at home in the SS for she certainly treated him like one!

Another dozen circuits then he looked at his image again. Gollum, Gollum from the movie that's what the mirror reflected. Yet even that pathetic creature had a few hairs left on its head, hadn't it? Gaunt, haggard, emancipated were the terms that came to his mind. How could they not fed as he was on an inadequate diet of liquid muck that he rarely even got to taste? When on occasions they fucked up, and he got a mouthful, it was awful, smooth, greasy, bland, lacking both substance and flavour. They only fed him the foul muck once a day, his evening highlight! Evening? Fuck, it was the highlight of the entire bloody day!

A snap of the fingers then 'Kneel for your supper Tiptoe!' the little bitch would command in that sickly sweet yet oh so authoritarian tone. "Kneel for your supper boy, head back, back boy". Then she'd lift a flap on his gag so's to insert the feeder tube and thread it down his throat. Highlight, a fucking rubber tube rammed down his throat so the bastards could feed him directly.

The only positive was that the command 'feedy time now Tiptoe' usually heralded a blessed release from the damn walker and a return to his bare basement cell, walked back on the end of a leash like a fucking dog, like the pet he was! The sadistic teenager didn't even bother to carry a cane or crop any more, just a snap of her fingers and he followed on behind his knees still raised sky-high with every step because he dare not do otherwise.

Thank god he didn't have to sleep curled up in a basket and could rest on his bed. Bed! A two-foot-wide wooden platform with one of those wafer-thin blue plastic things people carried rolled up on their backpacks to insulate themselves from the ground or whatever? Comfort he'd long since concluded wasn't a reason as to why people used them.

At least he could rest, rest and be free from that hideous circular treadmill for a bit. Despite the restraints upon him, rest, sleep and dream of freedom or merely doze amidst memories of happier times. That was assuming it was quiet and they weren't torturing some other poor soul nearby as seemed happened all too often. He hated and feared those nights for they brought even darker terrors to torment his overactive imagination.

Male or female, he'd heard both sexes and different voices over the endless months or so he thought. Angry, frightened, shouting, begging, pleading, screaming. Listened to the crack of the whip, swish of cane and splat of the paddle. Heard giggles, laughter and shrieks of glee from that little blonde demon, heard her taunting the poor devils she was hurting. He had no doubts whatsoever as to which of his captors was wielding the whip or whatever hideous implement of torture. The older one, he rarely heard her voice, she was so quietly spoken and if he did hear her voice raised he instinctively knew it would bode evil for someone.

His ears heard the tip tap of approaching footsteps; hell, it was the older bitch he saw as he instantly snapped his head round in the obligatory salute. Shit, she looked pissed off about something and a bit dishevelled. He felt that stomach-churning moment of fear. This one wasn't the one who dished out the daily pain and misery, but she was the one responsible for his suffering. He hated and feared them both equally but somehow this one although she rarely laid a hand on him was the real scary one he sensed! He walked on, maintaining that ridiculous marching posture his young owner demanded and wondered for the millionth time, why?

Hetty might also have asked the same question, indeed had months back. Still, she ignored the high stepping figure of Tiptoe; he'd almost become part of the furniture, as much a regular fixture as the big glass windowpanes or the various ceramic pots of greenery, hardly worth her attention. The fiendish machine tethering him monitored his every lapse and if Candi had set it so, would also apply the appropriate electric punishment to him. Not that she set it up that way very often, it wasn't in the sadistic teens' selfish nature to allow anyone else to apply chastisement to him for laxity even if in this case it was just a machine.

Its 'auto-pilot' function as Candi called it was useful though if the pair of them were both busy or out and about somewhere where it might be impractical for Candi to keep monitoring her phone and reacting as she deemed appropriate. She crossed over to the control box by the girls' untidy, cluttered computer station then changed her mind and retraced her steps. No need to give him a breather longer than necessary, get set up first then pause it so that she could provide Animal with a chance to stretch his legs.

That thought creased her face in a wry smile. Stretch its legs? No, she had no intention of letting the aggressive creature have that much freedom, the existing hobble chain between his legs would have to suffice, he could manage that fast shuffle that Candi thought so funny. His 'gay fem boy' walk' she called the short mincing steps he was forced to take to avoid being shocked or whipped. Her smile broadened as she recalled Candi giggling and teasing the seething impotent brute as to just how cute he would look when she got him doing it in six-inch stiletto heels and wiggling his tight well-whipped bootie for her delight! No guessing who would be doing the whipping either!

Outright ridiculous or voyeuristically sexy for such creatures? She could never make her mind up, but either way it was so deliciously humiliating not to mention excruciatingly uncomfortable, even painful for those Candi condemned to her 'shoe torture'. Tiptoe was walking much better she noted and wondered if Candi had noticed. Probably, virtually nothing escaped her eagle eye. The little madam should have been employed in quality control; she epitomised the definition of perfection when it came to those unlucky enough to have to match her required standards. Pity, the untidy little slattern, couldn't apply the same principles to certain aspects of her domestic life!

Better, or was he limping a little again or was it her imagination? How long had Candi had him in those four-inch stiletto heels, a week, not long anyway since she'd upped him again? Maybe she shouldn't keep cramming his feet into boots at least a size too small, start thinking of him in the longer rather than the short term. Given the regime, the girl had him on she was quite surprised he was still going and hadn't as yet broken down once. Hadn't missed a single day had he. Dusk till dawn, well not quite that but not far off! She'd mention it at supper tonight, suggest that if she upped him to five-inch, might she ensure the fit wasn't quite so draconian, cut him a little leeway. Then again....he was Candi's creature one hundred per cent wasn't he to do with as she wished?

No doubt the little blonde beauty would find the idea amusing, show even the tiniest amount of mercy for her creature, unthinkable! It wasn't all that long since that night of confessions in that hotel room, was it? Yet, her young protegee's sadistic progress had moved forward with the acceleration of a rocket. What would she be like in a couple of years Hetty sometimes wondered?

Her attention switched elsewhere as a sharp twinge of pain caught her. Damn, her shoulder was acting up now, had she pulled a muscle or sprained something? Foolish to think that tethering Animal to the walker for a few hours would relieve her of any necessity to expend effort given the lethargy she'd felt earlier. A damn silly idea, considering it was only the second time the colossal brute had been dragged upstairs and fastened to the machine. Last time it was Candi who had done the dragging while she followed on behind assisting his shuffling forward momentum via a powerful cattle prod.

She moved the mirror back to its place ruefully reminding herself that she could probably even have left him well alone and enjoyed a more indolent day. Doing something on a whim was rarely a good idea. It wasn't as if that creatures elderly owners would be back soon, or there was any particular urgency in 'socialising' the brute. The old sisters were only what, ten days into their global cruise so where would that put them, the Canary Islands, Madera perhaps or voyaging down the coast of Africa? Habit most likely she told herself to ensure that those in her charge rarely enjoyed a break from their suffering.

Her thought lingered on that as she absent-mindedly watched the high stepping Tiptoe complete several more circles. Then changing her mind crossed to the control unit, judging the right moment to flick the switch to halt the machine in the best place to prevent him seeing anything that would be happening behind him. That stiff posture collar about his neck restricted his neck movement quite severely. Even to perform Candi's 'eye's right or left requirement when one of them was present meant his having to part twist his torso to supplement his limited neck movement.

Those blinkers Candi had added a few weeks ago to his head harness also limited his field of view considerably. However, his lack of curiosity and apparent earnest interest in some unspecified spot to his front probably owed more to the lessons Candi's bamboo cane had taught. He was here at her pleasure not for his enlightenment or entertainment!

Hetty had initially thought her lovers' insistence on keeping Tiptoe isolated from the other subjects who might pass through her establishment was a little unnecessary. Still, she had to admit; the girl had an instinct for applying psychological torment that was almost as good as her ability to apply the physical variety. Plus of course, the effect lasted far longer and required less effort!

Mirror out of the way she nudged a few other objects around the big space, pausing briefly to slap Tiptoe hard across one buttock in passing maliciously. Cruel, because that pale white cheek was the same one that had taken the brunt of Candi's three-morning cane strokes. It was way too tempting as she prepared a tether just behind him. Hopefully, the little Madam would have been too busy on her laptop to have noticed!

Too low she thought casting a critical eye upwards, the new brute was a giant and so raised it six, then another three inches before returning to where she'd left their most recent unwilling guest tethered. Three times more, she had to use the cattle prod to persuade Animal to shuffle his fucking bulk into the conservatory. Not wanting to add to her sore arm dragging the huge recalcitrant brute she'd upped the cattle prod by two settings. Even that short distance seemed to take an eternity, mostly because of him collapsing in writhing agony to the floor and then once he'd recovered sufficiently, assisting the heavily shackled brute back to his feet.

Not only was her shoulder aching now but her back had joined it! Getting that brute upstairs on her own had not been a good idea. Animal was right. That's what Candi had named him and fucking primitive beast he was too. A bloody elephant would have been easier to drag along, and the damn cattle prod hadn't helped much. Well, maybe if she hadn't got frustrated and upped the shock a bit too much!

Mental note to self, she thought. Time to change some of his heavy restraints from those his elderly captors used to more lightweight but equally strong practical set, make life a bit easier for both of us. The thought caused her to giggle at the very notion that life would be 'easy' for him, then prodded the stubborn creature to where she wanted him. The severe shocks from her prod had perhaps been of benefit, after all, he was weak-kneed and barely able to walk and that combined with being zapped unconscious three times in succession had left his dumb animal brain somewhat addled and confused.

What was it she had told her lover a while back? Patience, you needed patience when it came to training these creatures. 'Three steps forward and two and a half backwards at first honey.' Shit, moving this stubborn lump this was doing that very thing literally! Where was Candi and her merciless cane when you needed her?

"Here, stand there you fucking wobbly heap of dumb dog shite" Hetty snapped as she fastened the dangling cable to his collar. A second trip over to Candi's desk produced a smaller bundle of wire and clips and a momentary whirr as she raised the tether another couple of inches. A rumbling sound from his gagged mouth and a change of expression in his eyes alerted her to the fact that he was rapidly regaining his full mental faculties.

Too late, no way he could escape, and it wouldn't do him any harm to get a bit of exercise on the walker until Candi released Tiptoe for the night. 'No harm', another silly thought girl she muttered silently as she rummaged in an untidy drawer to find the right bundle of wires. The very thing she'd just selected would make a mockery of that! One end plugged into a socket on the tether the four leads clipped to nipples, penis cage and steel butt plug.

Two minutes later and a final check, yes, everything ready, Hetty restarted the walker. The first dozen or so circuits were a bit jerky and frequently interrupted by brief halts as the efficient machine delivered a shock to Animal, ignored his pathetic muted animal roars and then resumed its indifferent electronic supervision.

Hetty watched for a few more minutes before crossing to the workstation and picking up the discarded bamboo cane in case the machine required a little extra 'persuasive' assistance. The contrast between the smooth hirsute more accomplished and visually pleasing Tiptoe as he meticulously high stepped in his heels and that gross hairy barefooted ape behind him was very noticeable. That would change; they had five months after all to improve Animal. Five months was ample time to apply a surfeit of 'attitude correction' therapy, more than long enough. Round and round the pair went as they walked or shuffled on that unending miserable road to nowhere!

Hetty was out of luck by a mere second. Her eagle-eyed younger girlfriend had caught that one single casual slap. Just that very moment when she'd finished reading the final appendix to the report open on her laptop. Finished reading with an angry expletive bursting from her lips. That fucking useless P.A. upstairs had reduced all her suggested additions down to a mere summarised paragraph. A summary that blatantly omitted half the salient points she'd raised.

Catching that casual slap on her phone, the next expletive died on her lips to be replaced by a cold smile. So, you want to play with my toy, do you Mama H. That little act was going to cost big time! That one solitary slap breaks our little agreement in my eyes and about time she thought to herself. Good luck on her part but lousy luck on Hetty's that she'd chosen that very moment to take a brief break from reading. Anger had momentarily drawn her eyes from the laptop screen to the phone, and she wondered what her lover was up to in the conservatory?

"Got you bitch, got you on camera, bang to rights" she chuckled quietly. That big soft white butt of yours Big Mama is going to glow bright red for me again tonight."

Candi might be the smaller and lighter one, but she was also the strongest and fittest on account of several exclusive gym memberships. Hetty was too lazy to work out and kept her figure mainly by keeping to a masochistic diet and swimming in their outdoor pool during the warmer months. Hetty had found out very quickly, and to her cost that her young lover was no submissive fly for the spider!

On a couple of occasions, she had settled the dispute by wrestling her taller but less skilful lover over her lap, pinioned her wrists and spanked her into submission, nor did she accept the first 'cry of uncle'. This had happened early in their burgeoning relationship before she'd even discovered her paramour's exciting occupation and promptly moved in with her.

Hetty wasn't over enthusiastic about having her botty spanked at all let alone hard so she'd laughingly imposed a condition when handing over her birthday present. Big Mama would keep her hands off Tiptoe unless she were given permission and Candi would keep her palm well away from Hetty's bottom. Pity because she rather enjoyed giving that a good walloping from time to time and then watching her tearful older lover crawl between her legs afterwards to pay the appropriate homage.

Hetty might be the resident house dominant, but in bed or the bedroom, that was another matter! It didn't do her any harm did it, well correction, maybe a smidgen of harm but it served to remind the old bitch just which of them was the true Queen Bee round their little hive! One day perhaps that might even become a reality. A permanent change at the top, perhaps?

Hetty was a good-looking piece of flesh for her years and still would be a few years hence. There was always that rival of hers, that old French hag, Monique something or other, yup that wrinkled harridan would surely pay a premium price one day for the delivery of a unique personal toy!

Back to the present, her lips twitched into an anticipatory smirk. Well well, so now, one of them had foolishly broken the pact hadn't she and the one rule to rule them all in Hetty's house was that there were no such things as rules and indeed no such inconvenient things such as 'safe words'. Especially not for naughty pact breakers with spankable bottoms!

Candi returned to her laptop to type out a blistering email comment to her boss's private inbox, regrading that truncated report, but keeping half an eye on her cell phone. That's what she was up to then, giving Animal another taste of the walker. That was naughty in itself, playing with that mega'normous fucker without her help. That creature was supposed to be primarily her project. Another demerit Mama H! It wasn't as if they had any sort of a tight schedule; those crazy old sisters wouldn't be back to collect him for months. Kind of a cute pair yep but in a crazy creepy way! She briefly pondered on what the two old biddies might have in store for their over-sized unplanned acquisition before returning to more mundane work matters.

Her laptop beeped softly, new email in the inbox. She noted who it was from, she'd been expecting it and knew what it would be about plus it was marked urgent. Her eyes flickered back to the moving figures on her phone screen. The sound was off, but she saw the quick movement of Hetty's arm followed by Animal jumping and struggling in response to the savage stoke her lover had just laid on him.

Fucking bitch, that brutes backside is my canvass! She shifted on her chair and stiffened, caught by a sudden familiar yet unexpected sadistic, sensual thrill that stirred deep within her crotch. However, burying one's fingers in one's pussy was not proper office etiquette no matter how randy you suddenly felt! She scowled down as the two hapless 'walkers' revolved endlessly on the small screen of her cell phone. Inside she was still smarting from that useless PA's stupid bloody editing, bitch, then spitefully her index finger moved to an icon button and tapped, once, twice making the smaller figure jump and writhe. Someone needed to suffer for her anger.

"Later tosspot, later" she murmured." I'm in just the mood to warm you up good and proper, that will get my juices all fired up ready for Mamma H in the bedroom," then moodily transferred her full attention back to the waiting emails.

Her attention was briefly distracted by a hand, a quick sad smile and an envelope was tossed into her in-tray: Karen, little Kylie's mum. A hand her sharp eyes had noted now minus wedding ring. Poor kid, moving back to grandmas while all the divorce business was sorted out and the house up for sale and everything. It wasn't as if Karen could even take the fucker to cleaners as she'd been the one silly enough to get caught with her knickers down with the wrong guy between her legs. There was even office gossip about sweet little Kylie and DNA paternity tests, bastard!

A thought struck her following on from a previous one, a very wicked thought, a positively evil thought. Karen, poor lamb could undoubtedly benefit from a pay rise, given her circumstances, and she was pretty well thought of in the office, well regarded and with previous experience. It was generally known that she was only there until something more in keeping with her abilities arose elsewhere.

What if, what if....her eyes swivelled thoughtfully upwards. How old was fucking miss Moneypenny that over-enthusiastic editor of other people's perceptive suggestions then? Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, not bad looking either, fit, leggy, works out four times a week. Marathon runner too. Well, well, well. Would there be much fuss if the office suffered another mystifying personnel loss? Plain faced, sad virginal Mary now getting dicked by that elderly matrons monster dildo twice nightly in Florida. That that hadn't caused much hassle had it. Her eyes swivelled upwards again to an unseen desk on the floor above. Fit, leggy, runner and what had Hetty said only the other night in bed? Decent ponygirls were so hard to come by and so much in demand!

Now there was something to think about as she rode the overcrowded tube back home!

Part Three (added: 2021/04/30)

Holiday or weekend? Either or maybe both, he did not know, and the nasty little birch certainly wouldn't bother to tell him. Perhaps the older one would mention it if she appeared, not that it mattered, did it, he thought as he marched around in his endless circle.

Why should it? Day, week, month, it was all just the same to him. The only real difference was that the inevitable pain the terrible brat would inflict on him would be physical rather than electric. Given a choice, not that he had one, he preferred the intense, electric shock delivered remotely. At least that was instant and sometimes only of low intensity. Although frequently agonisingly painful, there was no lingering after-effect. Nor was the experience anywhere near as humiliating as the physical alternatives when she was at home!

The ridged horribly uncomfortable posture collar denied him any head movement, but he could see her seated at her desk for a few seconds every time the walker revolved in that direction. Young, petite, blonde, beautiful and utterly evil! Primarily she was focused on her laptop screen, but he knew that she would also be watching him. Occasionally he caught her looking at him as he briefly marched in that direction. His eyes swivelled down as low as possible to counter that horrible 'head up' posture enforced by the cruel leather collar around his neck.

Her pretty smooth and absurdly innocent teenage face showing no emotion, no pity, no remorse for the hideous existence to which she had condemned him. A continuous regime of unimaginable pain, discomfort and mind-numbing monotony with seemingly neither rhyme nor reason for his enforced participation! Why him, why this absurdity, this travesty?

Every so often, her gaze might flicker upwards, and for a brief moment, their eyes would meet. His straining down to get a view from a normal perspective rather than confined to ceilings and glass roof panes as permitted by his arched neck. Hers cool, thoughtful, speculative with a touch of amused cruelty in them! Beautiful sparkling blue impish eyes and yet devoid of any warmth or compassion.

It was these moments he feared most, for alongside her laptop lay the slim bamboo cane. A simple device whose bite always felt far more terrible than those short, intense shocks she delivered remotely via her cell phone. Moreover, the cell phone torture was remote, impersonal, without close human witness other than the all-seeing camera eye.

The little sadist knew how to use that fiendish implement to its utmost, and unlike the remote electric shocks, there was rarely any variance in the agony she inflicted with it. Nor did the damage and attendant pain disappear quickly, as did the remote torture she subjected him to. Less painful but so demeaning and humiliating was her very physical young presence when she used that fucking flexible length of wood upon him.

There were four hooks on the wall near her desk. Left to right from the first three hung a leather tawse, a wooden paddle and a short whip. The fouth was empty. It usually was, for although he'd frequently felt the sting of them all, the last was her regular 'go to' fearsome bamboo tool of choice!

Although single, he'd always had an eye for a pretty girl and was no stranger to energetic bedroom activities as a normal, fit, healthy, heterosexual forty-two-year-old man. At least he had been fit and healthy till these evil bitches got their damn claws into him. Now he felt weak, continually hungry, emaciated, fatigued and, to an extent, broken both in body and spirit. Hell, he didn't even know how old he was any more, did he? He might be forty-three by now; might he in this crazy timeless, tortured limbo he now occupied.

His very masculinity, although diminished, was part of the reasons he loathed the physicality of her torture. Her fragrant presence, her youthful, sexy looks such as his straining eyes could see, the very warmth of her lith young body when she stood near to him, the possessive touch of her small hand upon his body. His caged penis reacted every time, much to his disgust as frustration overrode manly pride and self-control. He loathed himself at such times for his weakness in mind and body, nor were such incidents without consequences.

The little bitch had the eye of an eagle, and nothing escaped her notice, certainly not that sort of helpless, impotent twitch from his imprisoned manhood, a reaction she was very familiar with from the male sex to her appearance. Unfortunately for him, his circumstances differed significantly from those travellers she found it amusing to tease provocatively and visually flirt with, say on the crowded underground transport network.

Those lucky bastards were immune to any reprisals on her part, but here in her lair, she had a swishy 'cure' to hand for those 'naughty boy bits' that couldn't control themselves, and it amused her to use it. He'd felt that merciless cure on the exposed tip of his penis or on his ball sac on way too many occasions, hadn't he?

Candi by name, candy for the eye via looks and figure coupled with a blatant exhibitionist nature. The blonde teenage sadist was guaranteed to arouse lustful thoughts even in a helpless demasculinised captive such as himself. The wanton little bitch was excelling herself that morning even by her brazenly cruel and malevolent standards.

He'd been released from his cell and led upstairs, as usual, following obediently along on the end end of Madams leash to the hated walker and commenced his pointless daily routine as she set the horrible machine in motion. Before doing so, she'd picked up the cane and poked him sharply in the ass with the tip.

"High steps, Tiptoe, high steps just as I like to see. You've been wearing those sexy new six-inch heels for a week now, so you've had plenty of time to get used to them. I want to see those knees raised high, thighs straight and parallel to the ground. You know the routine scumbag. If I see you miss so much as a millimetre out on one single step, your skinny ass will be toast, get me?"

No answer required, not that he could anyway with a large ball gag in his mouth. The walking machine whirred into motion; he raised his right knee and began high stepping under her critical gaze. Round and round, knee up and then down, round and round. Candi watched him for a few minutes; cane menacingly poised, then grunted, and from the corner of one eye, he saw her disappear out of the room.

Five minutes or so later, he heard the tap-tap of metal-tipped heels on the tiled floor. He squinted sideways and down. After all the months of captivity with his head restricted by that merciless collar, he'd become proficient in catching glimpses of what was happening around him. He saw the older bitch dressed as though to go out. She crossed to the desk and scribbled something on a piece of paper, and then on his fourth rotation, he lost sight of her, and the sound of heels receded from the room. Another ten minutes had perhaps passed when he heard more sounds from the outside hall.

Candi was returning, but by the sounds, no longer alone. She was swearing and struggling with someone who was evidently putting up something of a fight, another new victim presumably. A moment later, she appeared, dragging a much taller dark-haired girl on the end of a leash. Usually, she would have the leash in one hand while the other wielded one of her painful toys to encourage, but this one, whoever she might be, was obviously a newcomer and not inclined to be acquiescent in any way!

"Fucking bitch", Candi snarled as she dragged the girl past him and momentarily loosed one hand from the leash to reach up and grab at a dangling strap to snap it to the girl's posture collar quickly. Only just in time for the captive threw herself to one side, pulling the leash from her hand but was brought up short by the strap affixed to her neck before she'd taken more than two paces.

"Bitch, fucking bitch. I'll teach you to behave, bitch!" Candi shrieked in anger, clearly enraged by this show of rebellion and disrespect. "Have you learned nothing in the last week, you big stupid cow?"

She stood panting, glaring, hands-on-hips as the pair of them circled before her. He recognised the danger signs in her expression and doubled his efforts to impeccably high step in the silly yet graceful way she demanded so's to divert that rage well away from himself. Her anger was inevitably channelled via some painful instrument of torture to the helpless skin of a captive, and he'd suffered too often. It was neither gentlemanly, brave, nor the least bit chivalrous he knew, but please, he thought, let this new girl suffer, not him!

Just for once, he noted she'd made a mistake. The newcomer, probably by force of circumstances, had been added to the walker immediately in front of him rather than behind. For the first time, he had a good view of the unfortunate who'd been sentenced to share his pointless misery. The downside was that he immediately felt a twitch in his captive penis as he gazed at the struggling shapely statuesque figure before him.

The tall girl struggled to maintain her balance as the wretched impartial mechanical device pulled her along via her the tether to her neck. A whirring sound temporarily distracted him, and he realised that Candi had moved to her desk and was using the console to raise the two unused dangling straps and adjust that securing his companion to a suitable height. Then she stepped back into view, a cruel triumphant sneering smile on her face. She stood there with her arms across her chest, watching them for a few more revolutions, then with another grunt disappeared again.

The girl in front was visibly struggling, and once she lost her footing completely to be dragged for a second by that horrible machine until it helpfully paused and her franticly scrabbling feet managed to get a grip as she regained her equilibrium. He could see why she struggled. He'd had similar problems the first time he'd had to walk in the awful uncomfortable three-inch stiletto heels the little bitch had strapped to his feet.

His shapely new companion was wearing glossy pink leather knee-high pony hoof boots tightly strapped to her lower legs. He'd had to wear those horrible things a few times himself as an occasional change from the ghastly stilettos at the whim of his young owner. He knew how difficult it was to adapt to that toes and ball of the foot, only arched heel footwear quickly. Likewise, the heavy metal horseshoe clunks accompanying each footfall as you staggered around. The fucking stilettos were a nightmare, but at least he had a heel, even if it was pencil thin!

His eyes were beginning to water as he continued to squint downwards the better to see. Although it meant peering, it also created a certain degree of double vision. It was a change, though, to be able to see a fellow sufferer in front of him rather than to hear and sense them behind him. Pink was the colour that assailed his eyes, pink and a shade of tomato red!

Images slowly clarified as the two of them followed the circular path dictated by the heavy motor powering the cross beams above them. The girl was tall and would have approached the six-foot mark he estimated without the aid of those awkward boots, which added a few more inches to her height. Broad-shouldered, slender proportional to her height and wide-hipped with long, very long sexy muscular legs. Her long straight brunette hair was caught in a high arched ponytail and hung down her back to where her arms were held horizontally across her back, strapped into a pink leather binder.

That constricting corset around her midriff was also pink, as were the numerous leather straps around her head and the cone through which her long ponytail was drawn. In part, he surmised that slender waist probably owed a lot to that restrictive tight corset, and he knew who would have ensured it was so tight. The same little demon who tightened the one he permanently wore!

The girl was moaning continually into whatever they'd gagged her with, and he could see her head shaking and shoulders writhing as she tried to free herself from the restrictions placed upon her. Fat chance, he thought. How much damn energy had he squandered, trying to do the very same for so many weeks in the early days of this meaningless captivity!

Her legs above the knee boots to her lower thighs were nicely tanned, as were her shoulders and the bits of her upper arms that he could see. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a pair of large breasts peeking out above that corset, bouncing so titillatingly as she walked. Her face almost obscured by straps and a bar across her mouth, but he judged that she could not be that old-mid-twenties perhaps, poor helpless fellow captive.

The vivid, angry red tomato hue that coloured her buttocks and upper thighs did not surprise him in this house of pain but what did was the unusual absence of any marks. Whip, cane, crop all left bruised, battered and bleeding flesh in their wake, and he had seen and felt such enough times. He only had to look in the big mirror should it be present as he marched around to glimpse the lasting traces of the damage wrought upon his body by the fiends who controlled his destiny and one in particular!

He felt his bent penis twitching as he continued his appraisal, particularly of those prominent unrestrained breasts jiggling so delightfully. Breasts that he realised were the same angry red hue as her thighs and bottom. Nothing was sacred in this house of hell, be it balls, cock or tits! Everything was fair game for those two bloody sadists.

"I hope you're not relapsing into lazy habits, Tiptoe", a sweet but chilling voice sounded from the doorway. "It looks like those sexy high steps I so love to see are tailing off. Perhaps you need some encouragement to curb your laziness, eh? Maybe a painful little pepper upper or two, or ten to take your mind off this filly's big udders you've been ogling!"

Instantly he switched his attention back to maintaining his rigid stepping posture, his gaze fixed rigidly straight ahead-step and step and step. Candi was standing in the open doorway watching the pair of them, and he did not like the look of what she was holding in her hand, not one bit. An oval rubber slapper that she was tapping against the palm of her other hand and a long narrow rectangular one with a wooden handle dangled from a thong around her left wrist.

He knew instantly what had turned his companion's skin that red colour. He'd felt the bite of those slappers more than once, usually what the bitch mockingly called 'an aperitif' to prepare for her main course. Not that such was needed. When used with enough skill and force, those flat rubber surfaces were as painful as hell but did relatively minor physical damage compared to her other 'toys'. His encounters with them had been brief, merely used as a warm-up, to tenderise him for more destructive implements of agony!

However, he could imagine the pain prolonged use would bring, and from the look of the girl's body, the little bitch had subjected her to hours of torment.

Candi strolled casually into the room and stood watching them, still absently tapping the slapper on one palm. Then she moved to her desk, waited for a second, then switched the walker off, bringing them both to a welcome but unexpected abrupt halt. She put the two rubber implements on the desk and picked up her cane, and approached them, flexing it ominously.

"This," she said, releasing one end and poking one of the girls breasts hard with its tip, "is a cane, my big filly. It is a simple but excruciatingly painful device, as that fucker behind you well knows!" She surveyed the girl who was making angry but unintelligible noises. "It sounds like this" she raised the implement and swished it downwards, producing the characteristic whistling noise he so feared. She took a couple of paces and stood directly behind him, and he sensed what was coming.

"Or like this", the instrument slashed down and across his buttocks, making him jump and yelp into his gag; the meaty sound of the wood biting into his flesh sounded unusually loud to his ears. However, he was more preoccupied with the sudden agonising band of fire across his rump. Candi giggled and moved around to face the girl flexing the cane once again.

"You may wonder perhaps my big uddered filly why I have not chosen to use it on your wretched hide during the past seven days in our little play sessions down in the punishment room. Why not, indeed?"

He saw the girl struggle wildly and stamp her booted feet up and down in frustration, the metal horseshoes sounding very loud on the stone tiled floor.

Candi giggled and took a step closer, looking directly upwards at the much larger girl towering above her. "Dear me, how very wild we still are....whooooo, easy there, girl."She jumped backwards to avoid the heavy boot that kicked out at her.

"Now that was very naughty", she chided. "If I were not constrained, you would feel my flexible bamboo friend here kissing that fat pony rump of yours. Count yourself lucky I'm not peeling the skin of your big butt right now," she broke off and started laughing. "Oh, I wouldn't waste my energy in being so angry if I were you, Pony. After all, you cannot do anything about your, er predicament, shall we call it. A great big strong multi-marathon runner like you, helpless in the hands of little Candi, eh Pony!"

The girl continued to twist and turn in her struggles and stamp her feet as well as snorting with rage and muttering mostly unintelligible gibberish. He thought he could discern the odd words such as bitch, fucking and crazy repeated among the muted gabble.

He watched Candi as she stood still, automatically flexing that terrible cane and looking at her victim with that nasty little self-satisfied smile on her face that he knew so well. What devilry was she planning next, he wondered. More importantly, would it involve him?

Candi switched the walker back on and carelessly tossed the cane down on her desk and saw the note that Hetty had scribbled for her a little earlier laying on her laptop keyboard. 'Hey Cinderella, just had a phone call from the ugly sisters. They have decided to cut short their extended boating holiday. Apparently, most of the passengers disembarked in Sydney to fly home, and a whole new crowd arrived for the homeward bound part of their world cruise. I gather the old dears find the new company less congenial than their predecessors, plus it sounded like they are getting bored, so they intend to jump ship in Auckland, fly to Paris and then London. Looks like you will lose your big unruly playmate earlier than intended! H'.

Candi frowned and looked at it for a few seconds wondering if that changed anything. She slowly sat down, thinking hard, then scrunched the paper into a ball and tossed it into a nearby wastebasket. Ok, so the gruesome twosome were heading home ahead of schedule, no big deal, better in some ways if that was the way the cookie was going to crumble. All the ingredients were ready to bake said cookie, so what did it matter when the oven got switched on?

A clatter behind her made her turn around as the hum of the walkers motor stopped for a moment. Stupid lanky bitch had got her hoofs in a tangle again. Well, she'd have all the time she needed to learn to control those long legs soon, wouldn't she? The motor resumed as the girl recovered, prompting Candi to reach out and dial the speed down a little. There was nothing to do with feeling merciful in her action, merely that she wanted her merchandise in pristine condition, ready for delivery: no marks or bruises, no strains or injuries of any kind. That was part of the contract; otherwise, the big animals hide would have looked a lot different!

Her cell phone beeped as it received a message. She glanced at it then tapped a quick response with one small finger capped by a sparkly pink nail. One pm fine, you know the entry routine. Swing around and back up towards the door. You can walk her straight into the box quite easily. Kisses, Candi. Ps: wild as they come, and she kicks!

Interesting, coincidence or fate? Both or neither, not that it mattered a fuck, but an apt cue for a bit more fun, she thought, rising to her feet, cell phone in hand. She watched the two captives walking around and around for a half dozen revolutions delighting as she always did in the power she had over such creatures, then flicked the off switch on the walker console once more and picked up the oval rubber slapper.

That right buttock was way too tempting a target, so it felt the full force of the flat rubber as she paused for a moment before resuming her position facing the squirming agonised angry girl but safely out of kicking range this time. Her phone beeped again.

NP! Both those silly traits will be swiftly corrected! ;)

Candi grinned and held the phone up so that the girl could read the message, then laughed at the puzzled bewildered expression in those angry green eyes. Time for a few home truths, perhaps she thought, thrusting the phone into the back pocket of her abbreviated denim shorts.

"Haven't a clue, have you, Pony?" she asked. "not a clue, you silly over-sized irritating creature!" A thought occurred to her, making her retrieve the phone and swiftly sort through her photo albums till she found the right pictures. "Recognise anyone then, sweetie. Someone you know or perhaps knew might be more accurate, besides little old me, of course. Think of someone who used to wear those awful black glasses with thick lenses," she laughed and held the phone up. Twice more, she repeated the action waiting till recognition and understanding dawned in those eyes that changed from bewildered anger to dawning horror.

"That's right; you got it, Pony!" Candi laughed again and glanced down at the pictures that Hetty had taken one fun evening. A keepsake of one of their first intimate threesomes. Poor, plain prudish myopic Mary had been with them what, three days or so before that night. The first photo showed the sad, pear-shaped, pathetic little bitch strapped to the whipping bench; her well thrashed plump bottom displayed various colours from numerous brutal beatings. The second taken from a slightly different angle was similar, but this time Mary's face could be seen better and standing to one side, cane in hand, stood the grinning nude figure of Candi. The third showed Candi laying back on a large bed, cane still in hand, legs spread apart. Mary had her head half-turned to the camera, face wet with tears and her tongue sticking way out as she crawled near the waiting furry patch between those bent legs.

"Little virgin bitch was pretty damn useless as a clit licker", Candi remarked as she put the phone away. "No doubt the old American bitch we sold her to has improved her clumsy efforts somewhat! That's right, and you heard correct. I said sold and sold I meant. Get the picture now, dumbo? Things starting to become a little clearer, Missy ex-PA future wise, eh?"

A thought struck her, surely not! She surveyed the girl's expression; what she could see of it was now less one of anger and more one of panic and dawning horror. Maybe the big cow was more stupid or more likely, perhaps less worldly than she'd assumed?

"You don't get it, do you? She quizzed, tilting her head to one side. "A degree in what was it Sociology and Medieval History but thick as two planks about some things. Here's me calling you pony and got you all kitted out, and you have not a clue, not a clue, have you?"

The lack of comprehension in those wide green starring eyes answered her question. Anger was returning, horror, disbelief, outrage but understanding, no. Candi giggled delightedly. This was going to be much more entertaining than she'd initially thought! Enough to make her feel even randier than she was already. She thought about fetching a vibrator but dismissed the idea at once. Why keep a dog and bark yourself even if it did mean a substantial change in routine for someone. Well, even the most pathetic dogs got treats occasionally, didn't they?

Ten minutes later, she was ready. Tiptoe had been freed from the walker and knelt by the big sofa with his ball gag removed and cautioned to keep still till he was required. The dumb schmuck would probably prove even less proficient than plain little Mary unless he'd been an adept oral pleaser of girlfriends, but somehow she doubted that! He wasn't the type, but so what? She might be young, but considerable experience had taught her that a warm wet tongue, even an inept untutored one, was way better than any buzzing impersonal plastic or rubber device.

Besides, there were simple but effective painful methods that were amusing to administer that would quickly encourage such tongues to more outstanding and energetic efforts, were there not? Considerably more fun than merely replacing fading batteries in a sex toy!

Ipad in hand, she returned to her ex-colleague, amused to see that the silly bitch was still struggling as she vainly attempted to free herself. Foolish girl, did she think that she could escape from the tight, restricting harness that Candi had bound her in after yesterday evenings pro-longed session with the rubber slappers!

"Time for a little, a little adult education, shall we say," Candi told her. "Not so much the birds and the bee's, that's old hat because I know that you've fucked with more than one guy, assuming office gossip is correct, of course. " She paused and smiled. "Quite the slut weren't you if everything mouthy Tina says is to be believed".

Wary of being kicked, she moved around behind the girl, grasping her around the waist with the hand that held the iPad and used her other hand to find and finger the tight leather crotch strap that covered the girls recently shaven vagina. She stroked the flesh on either side of the strap for a second, then pressed hard, making her victim squeak into the gag.

Candi giggled. "My, my, we are sensitive down there, aren't we, or is it that nice fat ribbed dildo I left in there for you to keep warm. It slid in so easy, didn't it slut? I hardly had to use any force, well, not too much. Well practised, are we, but don't worry, I'll make sure the next one is a lot more textured and challenging size-wise!" She broke her hold, laughing as the girl suddenly became franticly animated again.

Candi returned to face the writhing angry girl and slid a finger across her iPad. "Where were we before I got you all excited? Ah yes, education, let us call it fetish education on one particular aspect of such inclinations. In your case, to become a permanent participant in the more extreme aspects of the ponyplay scene. Let us see what Wikki has to say," She held the iPad up to the girl's face.

"(BDSM) A sexual fetish involving being treated and outfitted like a pony, or treating and outfitting one's partner as a pony", Candi read aloud. "Hmm, not all that enlightening; let us be more specific and try ponygirl instead. A little better," she said, holding up the device again and reading the screen. "A woman, usually submissive, who takes the role of a pony; this typically includes wearing tack such as a bridle and bit".

Candi smiled sweetly. "Ring any bells bondage wise yet? Tack, bridle and bit, eh girl or should I say pony," she laughed. "I could add harness corset and hoof boots to the list, and of course, we mustn't forget that ponies don't have hands or arms, do they. How frustrating for them; how's that armbinder I strapped on your forelegs? Not too uncomfortable, I trust? She finished insincerely and laughed. "Do let me know if you want me to scratch your nose or something, won't you. Such a simple thing you used to take for granted, I'm sure and yet now like a million other little tasks, FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE PONYGIRL!" she finished with a malicious shriek spittle flying from her glossy pink painted lips.

Candi took a couple of quick paces forward, rubber slapper in hand and delivered three swift hard strokes to the girls left buttock, making her jump and wriggle and shriek into her gag or bit as realisation began to dawn in her disbelieving mind. A moment later, Candi was back in front, calmly looking down at her iPad as though nothing had happened. The muted sobs and tear-filled eyes of the girl next to her were almost irrelevant, so impervious had she become to her own impulsive sadistic actions.

"You might find these images interesting, even informative. Ponyplay is mostly a consensual activity practised by couples and the like. The first few pictures show that. It's also quite a popular theme in some fetish publications and men's magazines. I've added in a few pics to show the gear but note how ridiculously slack a lot of the harness stuff is on those glossy models, at least to the eye of someone more familiar with just how tight those straps should be pulled!" she snorted and added, "not a whip mark on them either!"

She was about to hold the iPad up when something caught her eye, and she strode angrily across the room to deliver a resounding smack to the side of Tiptoes head, knocking him sideways. Candi dragged him back to his kneeling position, and bitch slapped him several times. "Kneel there, pig and face that sofa and don't you dare let me catch you watching things that don't concern you. You'll pay for your impudence later, wretch!"

She kicked him hard and then returned to the girl, her rage at his foolish impertinence already gone so quickly could her mood change, but she never forgave, never forgot, never compromised, and he would suffer her wrath later!

"As I was saying before, that asshole diverted my attention; take a peek at these, and then we'll move on to the second batch, a more enlightening selection, I think you will find," Candi said, holding up the iPad again and starting a slide show. Twice around the block, and by then, I'm sure you can relate your, er, new wardrobe to what you are seeing."

Candi watched the girls eyes widening as she took in the pictures and inwardly giggled to herself. Just you wait, Pony, you've not seen anything yet. Not a well-whipped bottom in sight, let alone anything else approaching your coming daily reality!

She kept her eyes on the far mirror, watching Tiptoe to see if he dare disobey her command, half hoping he would but knowing that he wouldn't. No, the slacker had been under her thumb and her whip too long for that. Still, there was no accounting for stupidity, and given how mind-numbingly boring the regime was that she'd condemned him to, there was always a chance he might do something silly! He'd sing for his supper later anyway, no matter what.

"I think you will find this third set of pictures very educational, although perhaps rather disturbing. They are all drawings or CGI art by necessity because it would be challenging to produce photos of the activities depicted legally. A little matter shall we say of nonconsensual participation by those 'two legged' animals wearing the tack and harness. The last half dozen are real, and I stress real photos, so keep that in mind and pay particular attention to them." Candi laughed as she started the show. "Don't worry; I won't be asking questions afterwards. I will provide some answers, though, and on second thoughts, I would worry if I were you!"

Candi watched the girl intently as one picture of a hapless ponygirl toiling under lash or crop replaced another. All the foolish struggles and noise had momentarily stopped, she noted, but how long would that last, she wondered. Not long, and it was likely to be renewed full force perhaps as realisation and possibly panic set in. She smiled inwardly at that thought.

Her perception was correct. There was a moment of silence as she lowered her arm and stopped the slideshow, then the restrained figure erupted into frantic movement and accompanying muted squeals of horrified verbal outrage. The bulging incredulous eyes flared with fury but at the same time betrayed a certain undisguised horror and one leg lashed out in a vain attempt to reach her tormentor.

Candi jumped back laughing, for it was very amusing. 'As if', she thought, waiting for the outburst to cool down, which it quickly did. Miss fucking over-enthusiastic editor of reports wasn't stupid after all. No point in trying to scream and shout when you can't. No point in trying to grab and throttle someone when you have no arms available. No point in trying to kick someone out of reach. All she could do was snort, glare and stamp her new hoofs, which probably wasn't very satisfying and certainly not very threatening!

"Now now, Pony, calm down. I haven't got to the best bit yet! Candi told her soothingly, then paused and added in an ominous tone raising the rubber slapper. "Or do you need a little reminder to calm you down? Another meeting perhaps between those big fat tits and my rubber friend here, a short sharp recap as to which of us is in charge here, eh? No, I thought not!"

Candi sauntered forward, eyeing the bigger girl speculatively. Pity, she mused; after all, it had been so much fun the other night, slowly turning those prominent milky white udders a lovely shade of red. Even better the way the bitch had begged and grovelled for her to stop. A bit of a comedown for Miss high and mighty, oh-so patronising, I'm on the executive floor above you. Arrogant trollop!

She stood looking up at the girl for a second or two, challenging her to rebel while considering her next move. Regrettably, she'd have to curb her sadistic desire to inflict further physical torture; otherwise, she'd have had no hesitation in making the bitch dance and sing as she'd been doing so delightfully since her arrival. Silly bitch, fancy being stupid enough to accept her offer of a drink after work, so's to bury the hatchet as it were over their numerous past little tiffs! Hetty was so adept at arranging for such idiots to disappear off the radar as it were!

A pity, this one wasn't destined to hang around longer. They could have had so much 'fun' together, but business was business, and Hetty had only said yes because she could arrange an immediate sale. Pick up was scheduled for tomorrow, so hopefully, some of that slapper induced red skin colouring would have toned down a few shades; otherwise, the buyer might not be too happy. Then again, a little deeper skin colouring shouldn't really count as 'marks', should it?

Candi's looked upward to meet and hold those moist helpless green angry glaring eyes for a moment, then she smiled and kissed the tip of one finger and used it to tap the girl on the nose gently. "Back in a second for the grand reveal, Pony, be good for me. Don't run away," she giggled and walked to where Tiptoe still knelt.

"Kneel straight, upright, don't slouch", she commanded, emphasising the order with another swift kick to his ribs. "I think you are beginning to take the piss, boy. I find your attitude of late lacking the degree of respect to which I am entitled" She watched him make a minor adjustment to his posture noticing the way he trembled at her nearness.

Her body spasmed almost in harmony as a clit tingling thrill shot through her body. Jeez, just the thought of the power she had over a man more than twice her age sometimes almost brought on an involuntary orgasm. No, not quite yet, though, she thought maliciously. Another little touch of humiliation perhaps to further egg the pudding for both of them.

"Hot in here, isn't it?" she remarked to the room at large, shrugging out of her sleeveless top and casually dropping the flimsy garment on to Tiptoes head. "Better", she announced, "and another treat for you boy," she added, reaching down and pulling it over his face. "Enjoy the warm, sweaty scent of your owners beautiful young tits!"

Candi spun on her heel and returned to the walker, flexing her shoulders and brazenly flaunting her trim upper body. She rarely wore a bra and then usually only a sports bra at the gym. Her conical perky young breasts were on the small side, perfectly formed, and firm enough to forgo any need for additional support, unlike that leggy filly with her big udders jutting over the top of her tight corset.

Oh, the temptation, she thought, moistening her lips with her tongue. How much fun she'd had making the filly squeal when those tits had felt rubber. She eyed the red-hued orbs with the large darker areola and relatively small nipples wistfully. How fine they would look bouncing about when the filly was whipped into a gallop which reminded her. Oh, bother!

"Now then," Candi told the girl holding up the iPad she'd just had to retrieve from the sofa arm. "If your tiny brain can recall what I said a few minutes ago, I told you to pay particular attention to those few photos at the end, did I not?" She paused and emphasised her question by giving the nearest nipple a hard flick with her finger end and held the device where they could both see the screen.

"Apologies for the quality. My phone camera is not that brilliant, and it was a dull day. Technically I shouldn't have taken any photos by request, but I always was a naughty girl, so I sneaked a few when no one was looking. Hetty and I had an enjoyable visit to one of her customers a few months ago. You know Hetty, of course. The lovely lady who drove you here, oh but of course you were way too sleepy to remember much of that, weren't you" Candi giggled and flicked the small nipple again.

"Oh, silly me. Of course, you know her. How could you not after the sexy old bitch pawed you all over while I was introducing your bum cheeks to my rubber slappers for the first time. My how you wriggled when she put a couple of fingers up your tight twat" Candi giggled and stroked the prominent hairless mons. "Much prettier down here, aren't we, since I shaved off all that nasty animal fur!"

Candi laughed. "Animal! Such an appropriate word, is it not? Animal, so descriptive, so apt for that is what you are now, sweetie, just a helpless, dumb animal. How fitting that Miss high and mighty, Miss better than the rest of us, Miss piss people off P fucking A, is now nothing more than a dumb animal" Candi finished with a shriek and backhanded the hairless mound with a hard slap and hastily stepped back as to avoid an angry boot.

"Naughty, you'll strain a fetlock kicking out at empty air like that, stupid pony." Candi teased. "Now, if you try that again, I will roast your rump animal, so think on it" She moved to stand near but to one side and raised the iPad once more.

"Anyway, returning to the main subject, let me elucidate, what a lovely word that is? If you are too fucking ignorant to recognise the term, let me elucidate or explain a little bit more about these illicit pictures. LOOK AT THE SCREEN SLUT!" Candi screamed and slapped the nearest breast hard enough to leave finger marks on the soft quivering flesh.

"Take your eyes off this again, and I will lose my temper that I promise and then things will get nasty fast, real nasty bitch!" she snarled. "You have not felt the cane yet, and if you think that slapper was bad, then wait till your fat ass gets stripped by white-hot bamboo!"

"You saw all the artwork pictures, of course, quite different, weren't they from the happy smiling faces of the 'pony players' in the first batch or those pristine posed glamour models of the second set. None of them looked unhappy or bore the slightest trace of a single whip mark as those in the artwork did! So what, perhaps you are wondering? What has all this to do with me? Maybe you are even stupid enough to be thinking as to when will this bizarre farce end, thinking of what you might say to the police or whoever, eh animal?" Candi smiled mockingly.

"Although I'd have thought the penny would have dropped by now even for a dumb cunt like you! Want me to spell it out, dumbo? Look again at this photo I took down at Susan's little place deep in the country when we visited. That's her stable from the outside-big, old and rather draughty. But secure, oh my, so very secure!"

Her slender finger tapped on the tablet. This one I took inside looking along a row of stalls, a little dark, but you can clearly see the heads of two of Susan's ponies..." she paused. "The two-legged variety, of course." Candi paused to glance at the girl. Yep, that one had registered. "The first one, the girl is called 'Hooker' a bit on the plain side but with a muscular physique. Well suited to the stable Susan told us. In the wild, she was in the US Military. Twenty-three years old and only partially broken. The stupid creature tried to head-butt me when I petted her, would you believe!" Candi raised her eyebrows and sighed in mock amazement.

"This next picture was the only 'official' one that I was allowed to take as a keepsake. Susan was a bit pissed off by the animal's unruly behaviour to a guest, so she invited me to apply a touch of remedial discipline by way of an apology. This shot shows Hookers rump ten minutes or so later. Colourful, is it not? Oh, and let me zoom in a bit. Look, you can better see all the scars, welts and bruises of Susans regular training discipline sessions as well as my humble fresher additions."

Candi smiled. "A little stubborn, Susan told us, but that was no problem. They all learned eventually under the tutelage of her whip. I forget the ponyboy's name in the last stall probably because I was still all fired up from what she let me do to Hooker. My how I would have loved to have spent more time with that rebellious filly!" she finished with a regretful sigh.

Candi raised her eyes and then her free hand to tap the girl sharply on the nose that protruded between bridle straps. "Pay attention, Pony; I wouldn't want you to miss anything!" She turned as a muffled sneeze sounded from behind.

"I hope that was clean and dry, Tiptoe? If I find your damn snot all over my pretty top, I will be exceedingly angry. Ponygirl here has just seen a picture of what happens when I get angry, but you, of course, know the consequences only too well!"

She glared at him for a moment then turned back to the girl. "Now then, this picture is much better quality-wise because we were outside. That's Hetty and Susan, by the way, with their backs to us. Susans's the one in the white shirt, boots, and riding pants plus the obligatory crop, of course," Candi chuckled. "A lovely lady about Hetty's age but as you can see, not much taller than me. A couple of inches maybe, but oh my, so utterly commanding! Whip or not, I'm sure I'd jump a mile if she barked an order at me!"

Her free hand reached up to point at the screen. The ponygirl there that they are looking at is called Harlot, quite an old one compared to young Hooker. Look at those big saggy udders and that mane of grey blonde hair. The figures still not too bad overall, but I expect that's down to plenty of exercises plus that punishing waist corset. Those muscular legs have certainly benefited from being worked hard almost every day for fourteen years on track or treadmill!"

Candi giggled. "Yes, you did hear correct, Pony, fourteen years. Imagine that? Fourteen years that, mare has been living day after day in a stall at Susan's stable. Thirty years old when Susan acquired her and now, well, probably looking more like a sixty-four-year-old. Two-legged ponies don't tend to age all that well, apparently, for some reason. I wonder why?" Candi winked suggestively at the hapless girl in front of her.

"You can see that she was harnessed to that little two-seater carriage. I had my doubts, but Susan assured us that she was still quite capable of pulling the two of us at a reasonable trot for a couple of miles. Susan was quite explicit. 'Use the carriage whip on her if she starts flagging. Age is no excuse for indolent behaviour. I know her capability, so don't let the lazy creature delude you. Don't spare her and use it hard; her hide has toughened up a mite over the years, but she still reacts to a good thrashing!'

I don't know about being toughened up. I naturally took the whip and Hetty the reins, and she seemed perfectly responsive to me when I used it upon her. I heard every squeal she made or tried to make through her bit at every stroke. Look at the following pictures. I sneaked them when we paused to let the ponies get a breather. Susan was busy fussing with her mount showing Hetty something.

A close up back and front view of Harlot. Just look at that bottom, those thighs and those saggy udders. Jeez, how many times have they felt Susans whip? Scars upon scars upon scars. Fourteen years of crop and the lash, just imagine" Candi paused and reached up to gently pat the girl's forehead. "Silly, of course, you won't need to imagine anything, will you, Pony? The tiny grey cells under here won't need to because they'll soon have first-hand experience to draw upon!"

The slim finger swiped to bring up another photo. "One final piccy before we get down to the nitty-gritty element of our little chat, which I am sure you are finding fascinating. This magnificent giant muscled creature is called Gigolo, one of Susan's splendid ponyboys. He was her mount for our little outing together. That's correct. I did say mount; you can see part of the saddle high up on his back, just where my finger is, see? We sat in the carriage and were pulled by Harlot, whereas Susan actually rode that big beast alongside us and got quite a trot out of him as well. God, it was so damn sexy seeing the small woman seated so confidently atop that big harnessed bastard and not a thing he could do about it."

Candi lowered the iPad with a sigh. "One day, maybe even one day soon", she muttered to herself, thinking of the note she'd thrown into the bin. She turned and caught sight of Tiptoe still kneeling rigidly to attention and abruptly laughed. "Yeah, well, not with that weak-kneed middle-aged bastard. That fucker could barely carry himself, let alone a rider!".

She turned back as the girl was becoming agitated again and tapped her sharply on the right breast. "No, stay still, Pony, stand quietly. Now comes the best bit, the answer to the question, the question they all ask" she laughed and briefly looked back at Tiptoe. "Why? Well, in your case, pure coincidence colliding head-on with a casual thought I had one night travelling home from work in a terrible mood because of your overzealous zeal to impress your boss".

Candi grinned. "One might almost say that your present and future predicaments are entirely your own fault, almost", she reflected aloud before shaking her head as though to clear it. "Now then 'Strumpet', oh that I believe will be your new name, so you'd better get used to it. Strumpet lll to be absolutely precise, I think. Something of a family tradition, I believe the original Strumpet was given to Susan by her mother when she was very young."

Candi broke off and laughed. "Oh my, what big wide staring eyes you now have, Pony? The proverbial penny finally dropping, eh" she giggled and tapped the disbelieving girl's nose lightly with a finger end before continuing.

"Yes, history repeating itself. Susan now has a young daughter. You'll love her, I'm sure. Absolutely adorable and uber pretty. She showed us the doggie she got for her birthday last year and all the tricks she taught him to do." Candi laughed again. "Of course, mummy had to help with the initial training of the naughty hound. I mean, you can't stuff a portly middle-aged man into a puppy suit, bind up his arms and legs so he can only crawl about on his knees and elbows and expect him to learn to bark and woof overnight, can you?" Candi chuckled at the memory.

"She called him Growler because of the angry sounds he'd made into his gag before they'd taught him only to use proper 'doggie talk'. Mummy told us that she'd wanted something more akin to an old cuddly labrador for her rather than an energetic unruly young puppy that might prove troublesome. It was so delightful having tea on the lawn, watching the little cutie putting him through his paces. Quite the perfectionist, she certainly didn't spare her 'stick' as she called it when needed" Candi broke off and laughed again. "His barking and woofing weren't overly impressive, but he could certainly yelp and howl when he felt that stick!"

Candi decided to prudently move slightly to one side just in case those heavy hoof boots started kicking out again. "So Pony, now you know. Susan decided that she wanted a suitable pony for her daughters birthday, so she contacted a few. Well, let's call them specialist suppliers, including my girlfriend, Hetty. She mentioned the enquiry to me, and bingo!" she giggled. "Well, you know the rest, don't you. A week or so ago, you were an obnoxious P.A, and now you are a captive PG, a ponygirl, albeit an untrained one, but that will soon change."

The girl became animated again and kicked out and struggled in a positive fury of anger, but all to no avail, nor did the muted screaming into her bitted mouth impress her young captor overmuch. Candi waited patiently till the futile frenzy ceased.

"The birthday isn't for another couple of weeks, but Susan is bringing her horsebox over tomorrow to collect you. Pity, I thought I'd have more time to play with you, but maybe that's why she's coming" Candi sighed. "Wanted you unmarked and as wild as possible so that she and her daughter can have all the fun I expect. No, don't try and kick me, silly. Maybe I will come and visit you in a few months to see how you are getting on. Bring you a nice red apple or a few sugar lumps, perhaps".

Candi laughed, moving a little further away just to be on the safe side. "You know you can't reach me. Save your energy because you'll soon be putting those long marathon running legs to good use for your new owner's benefit! I expect Susan will be spending a lot of time getting you ready for the big day. Imagine how thrilled her daughter will be when she sees you all decked out in your finest pink harness, pink ribbons in what she will leave of your fine long mane after you get the Mohican haircut! I wonder if she'll brand you herself or let her daughter do it? So symbolic I would imagine burning your permanent mark of ownership into your animal's soft hide."

Candi paused and gazed almost unseeingly at the now terrified girl. "God, just imagine it; thinking about it makes me so horny!" She continued to stare into space for a few seconds, and then the muted whimpering sounds from behind the girl's gag recalled her thoughts. She reached out a finger and touched a long string of drool from the red ball gag, looked at it for a second, then shrugged and wiped it on the girl's upper arm and gave another long sigh.

"Pity my birthdays not due for a while; otherwise, I might have asked for a pony! I'd have had to harness you to a cart, though. Big as you are, you're no mighty Gigolo. However, you are big enough for the daughter to throw her saddle over you and ride you around her mother's estate for a few years. Imagine that, pony! Totally helpless, living virtually naked in a simple stall all day with nothing to do other than await your young owner's pleasure. Susan told us that there isn't a thing the ponies can do for themselves other than breath, piss and shit where they stand! Imagine that? Candi paused to savour the look of absolute disbelieving horror in her victim's eyes.

"Hard, isn't it. I mean, I visited there and saw the stables and the ponies, but I find it hard to imagine what life there is like for the ponies. Is it even life, I wonder? She paused thoughtfully and moved behind the girl who was now trembling. Fear or anger, she wondered and gently rubbed her palm over one reddened buttock cheek. The girl shuffled forward immediately, but the tether to her collar limited her movement.

"I'll bet a healthy, active pony like you will soon be desperate to be ridden, yearning to be taken from your stall by the young madam and have a saddle strapped to your shoulders, waist and back. A nice canter or a gallop out in the fresh air. Something to do. The pain from your young owners encouraging riding crop and boot spurs a small price to pay for such a change in your tedious existence."

Candi rubbed the quivering buttock cheek a little harder. "Or then again, maybe not, I saw the sad look in Growlers eyes. I don't think he was enjoying any aspect of his doggie life very much. Certainly, his bottom wasn't where it stuck out of his puppy suit. It had obviously suffered frequent attention from the precocious young Miss's bamboo 'stick'!

"Oh, by the way, that picture of Gigolo I sneaked, notice anything amiss? Susan was pointing out to Hetty one of the necessary modifications she'd made to her big ponyboy. She only keeps geldings in her stable, not stallions, if you get my meaning. I wonder if she does something similar to her female ponies?"

Candi gave the cheek a parting slap. "Enough of this girlie chat. I'll let you get some more exercise, and you can think about all that I have said. My my all, this has certainly got my nipples rock hard, and I feel the need for a little relief. " She said, walking back in front of the girl rubbing her small naked breasts. She smiled and walked over to her desk and started the walker moving. Candi watched it for a couple of revolutions, then tweaked the speed up a notch. Satisfied, she picked up her cane and, moving over to the sofa, used the tip to flip her discarded top from Tiptoes head, casually flicking it over the far arm of the sofa.

She turned to watch a couple more revolution of the walker and its reluctant, but helpless follower, then shrugged herself out of her shorts and panties and climbed onto the sofa in front of Tiptoe. She wriggled for a moment to get comfortable, then stretched her legs out on either side of his head and beckoned to him to lean forward. Her nimble fingers quickly released him from the ball gag to which she'd almost permanently condemned him apart from his meagre meals and the bi-weekly grooming session.

"Not a word, asshole ", she cautioned, dropping the gag beside her and picking up the cane and flexing it ominously before him. "No, maybe I should be kind for once" she giggled both at the absurd thought and the worried expression on his silly face. "But, why not? You may speak boy, but one word and one word only, understand. Speak boy"

His mouth opened and closed; he licked his lips and then asked the question she knew he would ask.


Candi regarded him with amusement. Yup, she'd have bet anything he would have said that, but she was not disposed to answer. There was no reason why she shouldn't, but it was more amusing not to. Instead, she just smiled sweetly and shook her head.

"Not yet, boy. Now stick that tongue out and move closer, lean forward and put it to work. You know where and I want a lot of effort. You already have an appointment later with the whipping bench for your earlier impudence. Fail to please me upon this rare treat, and our little corrective session this evening will be far longer than one of us would wish!"

Her fingers snapped.

"Begin, boy!"

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