A Dangerous Con
  • Author - I. Binder
  • Rating -   
  • Site Rank - 20 of 2955
  • Story Codes - F-f, non-consensual, reluctant, armbinder, bondage, caught, electricity, enema, humiliation, mummification, ponyplay, sensorydep, slavery
  • Post Date - 9/26/2013

Author's Note: Every plan has a risk of failure. Every plan has unintended consequences. But sometimes the risk and consequences are so great that the plan should have never been undertaken.

Who would have thought that China would be the vehicle that brought the world economy not just to its knees, but flat on its face? They called it the bursting of the real estate bubble. As it turned out over half of China's economic boom was based upon real estate development. Development that continued long past the time it was clear that there was no one to occupy the properties being built. Huge modern high-tech ghost towns sprung up replacing farmland and then grew as if waiting for some alien visitors to appear and move in.But, there was no one to take the space and although millions lived in abject poverty they had neither the desire nor the ability to move into these newly created areas.

Finally the building stopped. It had to after all. When it did, the artificial demand was so high that the fall was truly cataclysmic.With the collapse of real estate came the collapse of stock markets around the world. It seemed that everyone had wanted a piece of the boom. Even the banks, seeming to have learned little from the misadventures of the prior collapse, jumped on board.

The rich, of course, were still rich. In fact, as the wealth of the middle classes disappeared the rich somehow became richer. The middle classes became poor and the poor became desperate. Consumers could not spend what they did not have. Small business could not survive and jobs disappeared.This made the first quarter of the twenty-first century a time of difficulty for most people.

Then came the next punch. It changed everything. The oil was gone. It had not been used up in the normal sense. It had been destroyed. It was a microbe of some sort. Nobody knows (at least they are not telling) where it came from.But it ate oil at an alarming rate and every effort to stop its spread failed. It attacked the oil in the ground as well as where it was stored in tanks. It took less than five years for virtually all petroleum to be completely gone. Everything that depended on gasoline came to a halt, first as the price skyrocketed, and then when there was nothing left.

The good news is that it did not completely stop transportation. Steam still worked and there were even some solar powered vehicles, but with petroleum went plastics. Effectively the middle twenty-first century technology found one foot back in the eighteenth century. As a result, human power became of value again. But this was not a value that could sustain a family and it was certainly not a value that the rich wanted to compensate at even a living wage.

There were not undiscovered lands with primitive populations that could be enslaved so something else needed to happen. There were, instead, large numbers of individuals and families collapsing under debt and struggling just to feed themselves and their families. The levels of desperation also lead to an increase in crime and overflowing prisons that were too expensive to maintain.This helped lead to a solution for the manual labor problem - indentured servitude. It took some changes to the law, but that is never a problem for those who hold the real power.

Bankruptcy was further limited making it increasingly more difficult for citizens to be free of their debt. But this did not mean a return to debtor's prison. Instead, creditors were allowed to foreclose on the debtor him or herself. Standards were created and a board of review would pass on the ability of the debtor and the amounts owed and convert the sums into service at the hands of the creditor or his assign. As with other civil matters the parties could still enter into private settlements which when properly recorded have the force and effect of law.

The same system was applied to criminal offenders, who instead of being housed at state expense, could be auctioned off. Non-violent offenders are treated much the same as those interned for debt, while the more violent are relegated to often brutal work camps from which any hope of escaping alive is illusory.

As might be expected neither the debtor nor the forçats were terribly motivated to do a good job and in the early periods of this new approach besieged their new 'protectors' with complaints and petitions. The solution again was clear. Those consigned to involuntary servitude became property of their owners for the period of their service. It was then left to the owner to control and discipline their property in order to obtain the value of their bargain. The state stepped back and few if any rules limited the holders of power. After all, the owner had an investment in their property it was not in their interest to mistreat them - which should not be confused with concepts of training, motivating, and disciplining those who's wrong thinking and/or lack of motivation had led them to their fate.

Owners could do what was reasonably necessary to control, train and work their property. This included branding, tattooing and otherwise marking them to assist in recovery if they ran away.Although, recovery of runaways can be a huge problem with teaming slums of poor who had little interest in helping those on the upper echelons of society. Some extreme sanctions, including execution or significant disabling, such as hamstringing or limb removal, required approval of the counsel. There was not even the equivalent of the code noir.

Sarah looked at the stark concrete block wall of the building they were approaching. This was a bad idea. The risks were just too high. She wanted to tell Amy that they should forget this foolish plan. She stopped and leaned back against the sudden pull on the leash attached to her collar. She grunted into her ball gag and made eye contact with Amy as Amy stopped and turned back to face her.

"Oh, so it was ok when I was the slave and you were on the other end of the leash, but now that you are the slave you want to back out. I think not. We need the money and we know this will work." Amy moved her face very close to Sarah's to insure that nobody else would hear what she was saying.

Sarah felt a pang of guilt surge through her. Was she just reacting to being the one on the end of the leash? It felt like more than that. She just had this overwhelming sense of dread. She jerked her hands at the cuffs holding her wrists together behind her back. The reality was that she could have quickly opened the cuffs, they looked like slave cuffs in all regards, but they, as well as the ankle cuffs and the collar around her neck, all had quick release mechanisms. A quick pressure from a thumb and finger at the right spot on the side of the cuff and it would pop open. All she had to do was pop out of the cuffs and this whole charade would be over.

This was not the first time to run this scam. They had done it at a facility that specialized in providing domestic slaves. It had been amazingly easy. Amy had been the indenture using the name Maria Ramirez. Sarah did not think Amy looked Hispanic, but Amy liked the name and used it. Sarah had been Susan Smithson. Amy had forged an indenture agreement showing that Maria Ramirez was indentured to Susan Smithson for a period of five years beginning only two months before. Sarah had been nervous then, but everything had gone just as planned.

On that occasion, only three weeks before, it had been Amy on the end of the leash as Sarah led her into the facility and sold her indenture, which of course meant selling her, for $20,000. After finishing the transaction, Sarah had taken the check to the bank and cashed it. Then she returned to the facility and prepared to support the escape of her confederate.

During a prior recon of the area, the girls had discovered an area that was utilized to move supplies in and out of the facility. It had a locking door that was easily susceptible to being picked.

Both Amy and Sarah, in addition to being very attractive, were exceptional at picking locks. Even with limited tools, there was virtually no lock they could not pick. With their tools in hand, they did not think there was a lock that would stop them.But where on a naked body would you carry lock picking tools? They had considered certain parts of the body not easily viewed but rejected the idea. If there was a medical inspection, the tools could be discovered, which would be worse than not having tools in the first place. The solution came as they worked on the quick release restraints.

The wrists cuffs, ankle cuffs, and the collar would pass almost any inspection. They were made of strong metal and like most popular cuffs of the time locked by a cylinder that pressed into interlocking circles that made one shaft when the device was closed. Without a key the cylinder would not come loose, and unless the cylinder was removed, the interlinked system would not open. Even careful inspection would not reveal a weakness in the locking mechanism. The secret release was actually at the other side of the cuff (or collar) where it was build into the hinge. When pressure was applied on both sides of the cuff, right next to the hinge, it slipped and popped open letting the locking side become the hinge.

Thus, sturdy and secure looking restraints could be easily removed. And, once removed, the inside of the collar hid small compartments where the lock-picking tools were secreted.

The scam was based upon the buyer believing that their purchase was secure. Normal practice was to keep new slaves restrained until they could be assessed. Most slaves (or indentures) came with a set of neck, wrist, and ankle cuffs so complacency in the security of the newly acquired property was easy to obtain.

The plan had two components. First, late into the evening when most workers were gone and things quieted down, the acting slave would remove her cuffs and collar, retrieve her picks and remove any securing locks. For Amy that had meant unlocking a padlock that had connected her collar by a chain to a ring in the wall. It was important not to lose the cuffs. That would leave the victims wondering how the slave had managed to unlock to padlock and escape. The expected reaction was that they must have neglected to fully lock the padlock and somehow the new slave had been able to shuffle from the facility.

Next was escape from the room or cell. If it had a key lock accessible from inside, as was the case the last time around, the lock would be picked. But the plan considered that some locking facilities might have a throw bolt that could not be reached by the occupant of the room.The outside partner, Sarah in that case, entered through the identified access point and would then become the rescuer. A locator chip in the collar allowed the second person to track her down.

There was some risk of guards, but runaways rarely happened, especially from a facility, so guards tended to be complacent. Primarily they were there for emergencies and to deal with specifically rebellious occupants, although these later were usually 'bedded down' in full discipline restraints before the staff departed for the evening. Never-the-less, if it became necessary, an air gun dart with a quick acting sleep agent could be used to change a guard's normal inattention into deep sleep.

Everything had gone seamlessly the last time. Sarah had waited until about 2 am to let herself into the facility. She was then able to unlock the door to the main hallway access. Meanwhile Amy had removed her cuffs, recovered her picks and unlocked the padlock that connected her collar to a chain and that would be left to be found the following morning when the slaves were awakened.

The only hitch had been the other chained occupant of the room. She became insistent that Amy rescue her as well. Amy had not wanted to steal someone else's property (except herself) so she declined. When the girl threatened to create alarm Amy at first agreed, but before the girl realized what was happening Amy gagged her and fastened her cuffed hands to her ankles. Then she left the gagged and hogtied girl squirming on her cot. Amy linked up with Sarah in the hallway and within minutes they were out of the building. Maria Ramirez would be identified as a runaway and Sarah and Amy were $20,000 richer.

Maria Ramirez ceased to exist. Amy now had new identification as Miranda Swenson. Sarah was still Susan Smithson allowing a final use of that ID. Of course, as of tomorrow Susan Smithson would cease to exist. Today's scam was a little more complicated. The buyer was the Pony Farm, one of the top suppliers of human ponies. The forged indenture had been increased to 8 years and Sarah, aka Susan, had had to undergo a physical the day before at a medical facility nearby. Having passed the physical the price was $50,000 on delivery and another $30,000 if the pony graduated at or near the level expected from her assessment, and the new owner exercised the training enhancement clause. There would, of course, be no bonus, because there would be no graduation.

Among the things that gave Sarah a bad feeling now were, the increased amount of money involved; the fact that they had turned over copies of the documents two days before so that the assessment could be completed; and the more secure look of this place. But Amy had turned back toward the door and jerked Sarah forward with a sharp tug on her leash. Amy tried to swallow her fear and stick to the plan. Nobody picks locks like she does, she kept telling herself. Besides, they were now inside the facility and entering the office where the deal would close. It was too late for her to do anything without exposing them, and that would probably lead to fraud charges and a trip into slavery from which escape might be more difficult. She needed to trust her skills and those of her partner.

Sarah held her position staring straight ahead, as Amy signed over the indenture and collected the $50,000 check. Amy shook hands with the woman at the desk and left with two other women through the door that she and Amy had entered a few minutes before. Susan Smithson now belonged to the Pony Farm for the next eight years plus. But, Sarah couldn't wait to get out of this place. She hoped that the entrance she and Amy had identified in the last few days would be close to where they would take her for the night. She hoped that they would quickly feed her and put her in a room. She had not enjoyed being naked. She had not enjoyed having her hands locked behind her back (even with the knowledge of the quick release) and she had especially not enjoyed being pulled along on a leash. She was very happy that her experience with this life would be over by dawn. She was so frightened that she could barely suppress her shivering. She was sure of one thing. She was never doing this again. She had been guilted into it this time because Amy had taken the risk last time, but this would even the scorecard - then, no more.

No one spoke to her, and she was still gagged. A tug on the leash signaled that she should follow the woman heading toward the other door to the room which led into an interior hallway. She was led down the hallway a short distance and then her leash was clipped to a ring in the wall. Normally this would be sufficient to hold her because her hands were fastened behind her back well out of reach of the clip. When she was left alone Sarah debated releasing her wrist cuffs, unfastening the leash and making a run for it. But if she did, she would have no way of contacting Amy and if the facility raised an alarm Amy could be picked up at the bank. No, Sarah had to wait until she was sure Amy had had time to cash the check. Also, an escape attempt in the middle of the afternoon with many people moving around and no outside support to bring her clothing was a huge risk. "Follow plan. Just follow the plan." She kept saying to herself.

Her instincts were probably good because not two minutes later a door opened and another girl with her wrists locked behind her was led out and clipped to a ring about ten feet up the hallway. The attendant left the girl. The girl looked at Sarah and Sarah stared back. They were both gagged so they didn't try to speak, but Sarah was not sure what they would have said anyway. "Hi, how are you? Great day huh?" Sarah looked away. She wished they would just take her to a room. What were they planning to do to her here? She didn't like this. She didn't like it at all.

The door next to her opened and a woman in a white smock came out. She looked at a medical style clipboard in her hand then unclipped Sarah's leash and led her into the room. She walked her across the room and fastened the leash to a ring in the far wall next to a chair on raised legs. Sarah's wrist cuffs were unlinked and then she was turned and eased back into the chair. Each wrist was quickly clipped to an arm of the chair and then she was belted at the waist and just above her breasts. An additional strap was added around each upper arm.

Sarah's stomach churned. With her wrists clipped separately and apart from each other she could not activate the quick release on any of her cuffs. She could only hope that this was not the way she was to spend the night. As good as her lock picking skills were, they were dependent upon her being able to reach the locks.

She was actually relieved when they did not leave her. One of the women unclipped her right wrist and then examined her hand. She said something to the other woman and then unlocked the cuff and removed it from her wrist. With her upper arm strapped to the chair she could move her arm up and down a little but not much else. The second woman handed something to the woman who was still examining Sarah's hand. The woman then turned Sarah's hand so that it was palm down and slipped something that felt like a glove up over her hand. She felt her fingers and thumb slide into small sleeves. She could still see her hand. The device was a gun metal gray mesh type product that covered her hand from the cuticles' of her fingers to her wrist. At the wrist was a gray metal cuff that closed and kept everything in place. Her fingers were held next to each other with only a slight curve. Her thumb was lined up with her first finger but held on the inside at a right angle. It looked almost like she had formed her hand for a salute. The cuff closed around her wrist and the closing joint was secured with a bolt that was screwed into place with a special hex wrench until there was an audible click.

Sarah knew about hex keys. The bolt would be resistant to being turned unless a hex wrench with the correct configuration was inserted into the recessed bolt end and depressed. Sarah and Amy could pick almost any lock, but this was among the most difficult there was. Sarah did not like this complication.

As she studied what had been fastened to her right hand the process was repeated with her left hand. As the cuff was locked into place Sarah came out of her fog. Not only was the cuff secured with a very difficult lock to pick, Sarah's hands had each been immobilized in a mesh glove. Sarah tried to bend her fingers. She was able to achieve no more than a half inch of movement before it sprang back into shape. The use of her hands had been completely removed. This could be a serious problem.

Sarah's wrists were clipped back to the arms of the chair. She not only had no use of her hands, she could barely move. The woman left her for a moment. When she returned she was holding what looked like two metal hoops. They were joined at the middle. The woman lifted them to Sarah's chest and began to maneuver them over Sarah's breasts. Sarah was well endowed and the flesh of the breasts had to be worked through the hoops as they were worked back toward her chest. Finally, when each breast was encircled at a point close to its base, the woman went to work with a long handled wrench on something in the metal joint between the two hoops. As the wrench was turned Sarah could feel the hoops tightening around her breasts. It was not painful, but she could feel her breasts engorging as the base of each was constricted. Sarah looked down and could see that while the outer part of each ring stayed in shape the inner surface (about half an inch in width) was extending inward. When the woman finally stopped twisting the hex nut both breasts were firmly held within the confines of the encircling metal. Sarah doubted that she would be able to extricate the flesh of her breasts from these hoops even if she had the use of her hands to try to manipulate them.

Sarah could see the hole that held the hex nut, but did not know if it was of a special form to resist manipulation by anything other than the correctly shaped tool. It really did not matter. With her fingers held uselessly in the mesh gloves she would not be able to manipulate a pick tool. She thought of her lock picks, still hidden within the collar around her neck, a collar that she could not now remove, and tools that she could not now possibly use. Even if they stopped now, plan A was already a bust. It was her job to quick release her cuffs retrieve her tools and release herself from her bondage and hopefully her confinement. The quick release wrist cuffs were now gone, replaced by the inescapable new cuffs that also made her hands useless. The collar and ankle cuffs were still in place, but the quick releases required the use of pressure from opposite sides of the metal. A simple matter for even a less than dexterous hand, but impossible with no use of the fingers and thumb.

The woman tested the tightness of the breast rings and the tightness of the breasts now held within. She seemed satisfied and once more left Sarah. Again she quickly returned. Now she had a tray. On the tray were a bottle and some cotton swabs, two smaller rings (about two inches in diameter) two U shaped pieces, some metal pins, and a large needle. It was the sight of the needle that made Sarah gasp. Sarah did not think she was going to enjoy what was about to happen.

The woman wet the cotton from the bottle and swabbed both of Sarah's nipples. She was about to be pierced. She did not want this. She tried to shake her head back and forth and moaned "NO" through her gag.

"Now, now. You will look lovely with these. And, believe me they will be such a great help in your training." She patted Sarah on the top of a breast as she picked up the first ring.

As the woman started to fit it over Sarah's right nipple Sarah tried to twist her body, shake her breasts, or do anything that might impede the activity. She was too tightly strapped to the chair to interfere in any way. The woman stroked her nipple until it hardened. Then she pinched it and pulled it until the ring sat around the tip of the breast about a quarter of an inch behind the areola.

The needle looked more like a knitting needle or perhaps more like a leather awl. The needle part was about four inches long. The woman picked up one of the U shackles and aligned it around the ring. The legs of the U had small circles that the woman lined up with the sides of the nipple ring. When she was satisfied with the placement she held it in place with her left hand while she placed the tip of the needle through the ring in the shackle and then quickly pushed it through the flesh of Sarah's breast skillfully maneuvering it until the point emerged through the hole in the other side. Sarah's breast had been pierced, but well back from the tip of the nipple. There would be a lot of flesh held by this implement.

The woman picked up one of the pins. It had a flat surface on one end. The other end was fitted over the end of the needle and pushed through the breast as the needle was withdrawn. It must have been measured to fit the circle with the added shackle because the end of the pin did not emerge from the other side of the breast. When the needle was removed the woman picked up a screw almost half an inch long and manually pushed it through the outer hole in the shackle screwing it by hand until it was almost flush with the breast. A small hex wrench was used to tighten it into place.

The woman tested the shackle by lifting it and giving a slight pull. When not being used it hung down sitting around the lower half of the ring, but when lifted forward it created a solid anchor point well secured into Sarah's body.

Sarah watched helplessly as the process was repeated on her left breasts. The piercing had hurt. It had hurt a lot and she had screamed into her gag, but the woman must have seen this many times before and paid no attention to the screams and protestations of the young woman restrained before her. Sarah could instantly see how these implements could be used to control her. She would not be able to resist force applied to these rings.

Next the woman picked up what looked like a number of wires. Except that they were not very stiff and had strange looking connectors on each end. The woman then connected one end of a wire to the ring behind the nipple, inserting it into a hole and clipping it into place with a pointed tool. The other end of the wire passed over the length of her breast and then clipped into the ring surrounding the base of the breast. Each breast received three of these, two at the top of the breast, dividing the upper half of the breast into thirds. The third was fastened at the bottom of the breast. They were firm, but not tight. They would provide some support by holding the breast up at the nipple ring, but not exactly in a comfortable fashion.

Sarah hoped that this was the end of the ordeal. She was completely dependent on Amy being able to find her and free her of her restraints. Amy would not be able to remove the breast shackles. These could be removed later, but the psychological impact of these latest additions was beginning to impact her.

Sarah had been so busy studying the new adornments to her breasts she had not noticed that the woman was back again. Now she was down at Sarah's feet. Sarah felt one of her legs unclipped from the chair. Then she felt the ankle cuff removed. It was quickly replaced by a new cuff. Sarah could not see what it looked like but she could feel it being maneuvered on from behind her foot and she could tell that something had been slipped over her heel.

Again a matching cuff was applied to the other foot. Four of her five quick release restraints were now gone. Even though she was not able to activate any of them any way, the removal of her designed escape system and its replacement by something else filled her with a sense of dread. At least these had seemed to have just click locked into place. No fancy escape proof locking mechanism.

The final item the woman produced was a girth belt, about five inches in width it was a more standard slave restraint and was almost welcome. It would allow her wrists to be fastened at her sides, much more comfortable than held behind her. In order to get it on the woman had to remove the chair restraints and bring Sarah to her feet. It was only as she stood that the limiting nature of the foot restraints became apparent. Her ankles were locked in a metal cuff. From the cuff a loop extended down and passed under her foot where her arch met her heel. The loop extended about two inches below her foot forcing Sarah onto her toes. As Sarah caught her balance she tried to shift her weight back onto the foot devices. As she did she discovered that the interior of the loop held a metal bolt that pushed up into the sole of her foot. The top of the bold was not sharp, but it was small enough to make any attempt to place weight on it very painful. She would be forced to keep her weight up on her toes. She was not even sure how she would walk in these things. Certainly she was not going to run.

The girth belt was pulled tightly around Sarah's waist and locked off. She had seen many slaves wearing these and had not given it much thought. The belts did not appear to be uncomfortable. But, she had never worn one before and she was shocked at just how tightly it was pulled. She did not like this belt either. She had never worn a corset, but she assumed that this is what one must feel like. How long would it take Amy to find her and rescue her? Once they got out of this she would never try a stunt like this again. Even for a day this was just to humiliating and painful.

With her wrists clipped to the sides of the belt Sarah felt completely helpless. The woman clipped the leash to a ring set between her breasts (Sarah was thankful it was not to one of the nipple shackle, but assumed they wanted to let the wounds heal.) Finally she was led out of the room. She stumbled on the new footwear, further hampered by a 12" hobble line that joined them. "Really? Hobbled as well? Like I could go anywhere." She thought to herself. It told her that security was no joke here and that did not bode well.

Sarah had hoped she would now be taken to a room, but, not yet. She was led further down the hallway and once again her leash was clipped to a ring in the wall. She could not think of anything more humiliating than standing restrained and naked in a hallway held by a leash to a ring in the wall. A leash locked on with a simple clip that any person with the use of their hands could open in about two seconds. She was not even allowed to sit down, which with the new devices on her feet was a torture. She had to stay up on her toes and when her feet began to cramp and her legs tire she would settle down until the pain from the bolt pressing into her sole sent her back to her toes. This was too much. She wanted to be out of here. She needed to be out of here, even knowing that Amy would come for her that night was not enough. How could anyone endure this?

Sarah tried to hang on the leash to take the pressure off her feet. There was slack in the leash line as she lowered her body. At first she thought she might even make it to her knees which would be a wonderful relief. But the line stopped her with her knees still over a foot from the floor. She screamed in frustration. Then she lowered her weight onto the leash line. Maybe, if she put her weight on the line and hung backwards it would pull this new device off her breasts. Carefully she slipped down the wall. She felt the leash go tight and felt the pressure around her breasts. She arched her back and let the line take up the weight.

The pain was unbelievable. Fire surged through her breasts. Sarah was so surprised that she lost her footing and fell backwards supported only by the tight constrictions around her breasts. The metal construct held in place by its tight constriction of her breasts did not pull loose. If anything, it seemed to be getting tighter. Her full body weight was now being carried by her large breasts. She thought they would tear from her body but knew they would not. They would just hurt. But there was so much more. It felt like her nipples at erupted in flames. And the pain radiated throughout her breasts. The breast device was equipped with electricity and was now delivering pulsing shocks to the flesh of her breasts.

Sarah gasped and screamed as she struggled to get her feet under her. Her hands flailed helplessly at her sides. The metal bottoms of the heel loops on her leg restraints made it very difficult to find purchase on the smooth stone floor and it was hard to concentrate with the electrical surges burning through her breasts. After what seemed like forever she managed to get her feet under her and take the pressure off the breast device. Sarah leaned into the wall and slowly pushed her body back up to a standing position.

There were three other girls leashed in the hallway. They were all staring at her with now huge open eyes. None of them yet wore the breast restraints and Sarah was sure none of them now desired to be so encumbered. Sarah looked back feeling only sorry for herself and no empathy for what they would share. One girl turned away as best she could. Another was sobbing into her gag, and the third struggled for a moment or two in her bonds before once again becoming quiet. None of them wanted to be Sarah. All of them realized they were only moments away from that fate.

Sarah finally managed to find a position against the wall that allowed her some support. The cramping in her feet consumed most of her thoughts as she stepped from foot to foot trying to relieve the pressure on the arches caused by standing on her toes. She was relieved when someone finally came for her even though it probably meant some new horror. The female attendant, dressed in khaki, led her through another door. Sarah paused at the site of a dentist chair, but a quick jerk on her leash caused her to stumble forward. At least she would be able to sit and take the weight off her aching feet. She allowed the woman to turn her and position her in the chair. Another woman in a white coat stood nearby waiting as Sarah was strapped into the chair. As with such chairs, a headrest was available at the top, only this headrest also sported a strap that could be pulled across the forehead holding the head immobile.

Only when Sarah was strapped into the chair did she start to worry about what they were going to do in her mouth. Her gag was released and she was able to move her jaw for the first time in what now seemed like many hours. But the relief was short lived. A dental appliance was inserted into her mouth and as the ends were depressed rubber coated bars under her upper and lower teeth forced her mouth open.

The woman in the white coat examined the inside of her mouth and her teeth. She then produced a large needle and injected something into her gums near the back of her rear lower molars on both sides. Sarah knew her teeth were in good shape. She did not think she had any cavities and could not imagine why she was being deadened for some kind of oral procedure. Part of her was thankful for the administration of the pain killer. Part of her was paralyzed in fear. She tried to vocalize a question but the sounds that escaped her were unintelligible, even to her.

With a drill and other implements the woman went to work on her lower teeth. Sarah could feel the pressure as at least one tooth on each side was drilled away. The procedure ended with further injections into the root area of the removed tooth. At least they were killing the nerve rather than leave her in pain. Sarah could feel with her tongue that the second to last bottom molar on each side had been removed. A mold of the space was made. Sarah assumed that was the end of this part of the procedure.

She was not, however, released from the chair. Rather, the woman used a clamp to grab her tongue and hold it out from her mouth. After the tongue was swabbed the woman produced a shorter version of the piercing awl that had been used on her breasts. In a quick motion, utilizing the awl and a cork block Sarah's tongue was pierced about an inch back from the tip of her tongue. A beaded piece was then inserted into the newly made hole and screwed tightly into place. When the clamp on her tongue was finally released Sarah could feel the ball sitting on the top of her tongue.

This had all been way too much for Sarah. She was having trouble getting her mind around all that had been done to her in such a short period of time. It was not supposed to be this way. She was supposed to be taken to a holding area where she would be meant to spend the night and from which she would make her escape when everything went quiet. No more. She was not doing this anymore. She knew Amy would want to try again but she was through. Even if Amy wanted to be the indenture she would no longer be a part of this. She had no idea that becoming property could be so humiliating, so debilitating, so painful, and so frightening. Their little game was over. Once she was out of here. She shivered at the thought - what if Amy could not rescue her. No, she had to get that out of her head. Amy would find her. Amy would rescue her. By morning this nightmare would be over and wiser from the experience Sarah would stay away from anything that might find her back in a similar situation in the future.

Sarah realized that the belts had been removed and the woman in khaki was pulling on her leash to move her on. Her gag had been replaced in her mouth but she could only feel parts of it because much of her mouth was still numb. She stumbled out of the chair and back onto her toes. Her feet protested almost immediately but she followed - what else could she do.

At least she was not left in the hallway this time. She was lead down the hallway and through another door. She was expecting to finally get to the place where she would be kept for the night, but it was another room. This one held a bench with a leather top. Sarah, now used to following the lead, allowed herself to be placed face down on the bench and then strapped down.As she was pressed down onto the bench her tightly encircled breasts erupted with pain. In addition, as her nipples pressed down, even on the padded surface she could feel the nipple flesh pushing back against the piecing bar. She wanted to push herself up off the bench but could not. Slowly her breasts started to adjust to the pressure. So long as she held still it was not too painful.Maybe this is where she was to spend the night. At least she was off her feet. She could even sleep in this position. She would not be able to do much else.

Sarah had blonde hair that she wore at just below shoulder length. Once she was secured to the bench her hair was gathered into a pony tail. Only this ponytail was straight up from the top of her head. The woman wrapped a leather thong around the base of the hair. She turned it at least ten times before securing the ends. The wrapping was then coated with something. At least that wasn't so bad. But then Sarah heard the sound of electric clippers. Holding the ponytail just created as if it were a handle the woman began to shave the rest of her head. Sarah tried to twist free. She tried to buck her body up and down but the woman held on tightly and Sarah could feel her hair, the hair she loved so much, the hair she carefully and lovingly brushed every day, falling away from her head.

By the time the woman was done with the clippers Sarah was sobbing. She felt the stubble lathered and a straight razor applied to the shaved parts of her head clean. She stopped resisting. Her hair was gone and she did not want to be cut. When the woman had finished with the razor and wiped off all the gel she started to rub something else into her scalp. It started to burn almost instantly, but again there was nothing Sarah could do about this new insult.

When the woman was satisfied with her work she brought over a gray-white looking bag of some sort. Only when she started to slip it over Sarah's head did she realize that it was a pony hood. It was common that ponygirls were hooded. This establishment must be one of the places that utilized the hoods. Sarah wished Amy had discovered that fact before choosing this location for their latest scam. She did not like the idea of being hooded. She had always found the hooded creatures just a little intimidating.

The hood was quickly pulled over her head and face. The ponytail of blonde hair was fed up through a hole in the top of the hood and the hood was laced up the back. The woman pulled it tight smoothing as she went until there was not a wrinkle. The hood did not cover her mouth, but was cut from just above the tip of her nose out around her mouth then back under her chin. There were not eye holes but rather narrow vertical slits. These slits sat out away from her eyes so she could open and close them without restriction. Sarah could tell, even from what she could see in her position on the bench, that the slits would very much restrict her vision. She would be able to see straight ahead but would have absolutely no peripheral vision. The collar around Sarah's neck was removed, and with it, her picks. Not that they were of any help to her now. Her neck was not left unadorned. A much larger collar in a gun metal grey to match the color of her gloves was fastened around her neck, tightened and locked in the back. This new collar covered the flaps of her hood holding it in place so long as the collar was in place. Sarah could feel the pressure of this new restraint on the sides of her head where it flared up from a low point at her chin. This collar kept her chin up and restricted her ability to turn her head.

Sarah was not left on the bench. The straps were unbuckled and once again she was pulled up onto her feet. The brief rest had not really eased the distress. Almost instantly her arches complained and cramped. Her steps were uneven as she endeavored to follow the pull of her leash. She was truly in hell.

Sarah could see so little from the slits in her hood that she was unsure just where she was taken next. She kept trying to turn her head from side to side to get a view of her surroundings but the restrictive collar prevented this action. She could only look away from straight ahead by turning her entire upper body - a maneuver very difficult to perform while being tugged forward on the leash.

Sarah saw that they were in another room with a chair. The back was reclined and it had stirrups like a gynecological exam table. Sarah was pushed back into the chair and her body was once again strapped down. Her legs were lifted into the stirrups and strapped into place. It felt good to have her legs raised but Sarah did not like the way she was exposed. She realized that her sex was about to receive the next attention. She did not like this idea, but like everything else that had happened to her in the last few hours she had no voice in the matter.

Sarah tried to raise her head to see what was going on between her legs, but the straps across her chest held her back and even though the new collar was cut lower at the chin it prevented her from looking down. She would only be able to feel what was being done to her.

The first thing she felt was dampness around her sex. A hand was working something into her well trimmed bush. Then there was scraping and pulling. She was being shaved. Sarah hoped that they were only trimming the hair not shaving it completely, but she could tell from the strokes of the razor that that was not the case. Her pubic area was soon completely nude.

Once again, she felt the short cool feel of a gel of some sort being rubbed onto the freshly shaved area, followed by a burning sensation like she had felt when her head was shaved and treated. It had burned on her head. On this part of her body it was unbearable fire. She needed to close her legs to try to bring some relief to the tortured skin. She needed to rub it with her hands, but the straps around her legs kept her legs well apart and her useless gloved hands were held tight at the sides of her girth belt. She could do nothing to relieve the pain. She stretched with her confined fingers pulling at the shackles that held her wrists tight to her sides trying to get a finger tip to the burning flesh but came up just short. Sarah moaned and twisted in her bonds, but the woman working between her legs took no notice.

Sarah jumped when she felt the touch. She was being stroked around the edges of her vagina. Where they going to perform sex on her? Here? Now? It seemed inconceivable, but she could also feel her body starting to respond to the attention. She did not consider herself to be gay or even bi - even though she and Amy had messed around a little. It has been mostly after they had had a lot to drink and had shared their disgust for men, and their seemingly inability to understand or at least care about the needs of a woman.

Sarah lay back. Then she began to arch her back in response to the touch. She could do no more. She felt humiliated that she was responding to the touch of this stranger, but after everything she had been through that day it was nice to have something finally feel so good.

The touch moved from her labia to her clitoris. The woman had a skilled touch and was stroking and manipulating the pleasure bud. Sarah started to moan. She didn't care how wrong this was. She didn't care how humiliating this was, she wanted - no, she needed - more of this. She could feel the hood around her clitoris being pushed back. She could feel her clitoris growing as it responded and engorged with blood. But then there was something else. She could feel something being slipped up over her now extended clitoris. Then there was pain. Horrific terrible pain, it felt as if her clitoris had been touched by fire. She tried to pull back. She tried to free her flesh from the grasp of this woman, but she was held tightly to the chair. The pain dulled for a moment and then she felt it again. They had pierced her and now the woman was pushing a bar through her flesh well back on her clitoris. As the woman continued to work between her legs the impact of what was being done surfaced through the fog of the pain.

Sarah's clitoris had been hooded with some metal device. It was in turn held in place by a piercing. Even when the woman released her hold on Sarah's flesh she could feel that the natural hood on her most intimate spot had been pushed back and the piercing held her clitoris forward. Like the piercings at her breasts the pin also supported a shackle, this one long enough to hang in front of the end of her now enclosed clitoris. Sarah knew something about these devices. The metal hood isolated her clitoris. Her pleasure bud could now not be touched. And, the shackle allowed another means by which to control her. She could not even imagine the ignominy of being led by a leash connected to her sex, but that was now clearly the intent.

Additionally, she could tell from the time spend connecting and installing the assembly, that it could not be easily removed. How was she going to get this thing off her body? It may well require medical assistance. But how could she do that? It was something only installed on slaves. Without manumission papers no medical facility would remove it. Instead she would be reported as a runaway and taken into custody. Sarah had never really considered this before she had entered into this plan. She and Amy would escape with the sale money from her indenture, but legally she would be a runaway, under an assumed name, but a runaway all the same. If she were discovered she would not need to worry about criminal charges (although that was possible) she would have eight years of indenture to serve. She had been a pony slave now for only a few hours. The thought of eight years of this was inconceivable. This had been a huge mistake. How could they be so stupid?Where would they go? What would they do? Sarah would be afraid for the rest of her life.

Sarah's fears were only enhanced by what happened next. While she was still restrained to the table another woman entered the room and moved over next to her. Sarah could not see what the woman was doing but she soon heard a buzzing sound and then she felt the sting of a needle on her flesh. She was being tattooed. The tattoo was on her Right haunch back toward her buttocks. Whatever it was it would be clearly visible if she wore a bikini or even revealing underwear. The woman took about half an hour working in that area. Sarah wished she could see what she was doing. She correctly assumed that she was being engraved with a registration number but there was something else, some design being placed in connection with the number. Her status as a slave would now be evident from the tattoo and with the number she would be easily identified as Susan Smithson, an indentured pony slave. Like with the device connected onto her sex, her flank was marked, denoting her as property and now easily identified to the indenture and the sale that had occurred only hours before. This was bad. This was very bad.

Sarah's mind was reeling with confused thoughts as she was finally released from the chair. Again leased from the ring at her breasts she had no choice but to follow the tug. The walk was longer this time but eventually she was taken into an area that looked like a wide hallway with doors set about every four feet down both sides. The doors were wooden and only rose to chest height. Above the wooden part of the doors there were metal bars extending up to about eight feet. It was a stable of sorts. At last she was being bedded down. She had never been so ready to be left alone. As Sarah walked behind her handler she could feel the sleeve on her pleasure bud moving with each step. She really wanted to be able to reach down and touch it. It was stimulating her, but only enough to keep her attention on that part of her anatomy, not really enough to take her anywhere. She was terrified that the long term effect would be increased arousal without any means of satisfaction.

She was led about a third of the way down the corridor before her handler turned to the right and opened a door. There was no lock on the door, only a simple bolt that could be lifted and pulled to release the door. But the bolt was on the outside of the door and about a foot down from the top of the wooden part. It was clear that there was no corresponding part on the inside. The bars were fairly close together and it would be difficult for someone on the inside to reach through and manipulate the bolt. Simple, but secure, especially so for occupants whose hands were restrained.

The inside was four feet wide and about eight feet in length. On one side was a concrete platform about 18" high with a thin rubber mat on top. In the back corner on the left was a hole in the floor with a stone pad on each side. It was an Asian style toilet meant to be used by someone squatting over the hole. Just inside the door was a trough, obviously a feeding trough. Sarah could see that it contained slave pellets. These were sold in sacks like dog food. They were relatively soft and designed to be easily picked up with just the mouth. Sarah had never tasted them before, but she knew they were designed to contain all the nourishment that was needed for a slave. Different formulas were designed for different ages and levels of activity.

Sarah was led to the middle of the room and turned back toward the doorway. A chain hung from the ceiling and the handler quickly fastened it to the back of Sarah's collar. She was angry that she wasn't allowed to go right to the bed. Right now more than anything else she needed to lie down and get some rest.

The handler unclipped the leash from the front of Sarah's breast restraints, but then she lowered a lever set in the metal between her breasts. As the lever was pulled down Sarah felt the sharp prick of needles entering each of her breasts from the inside of the device. The woman then picked up a small bottle, turned it upside down and screwed it into the exposed lever that had been pulled down.

"It will take about an hour for the hormones to work their way into your breasts. I will come back and put you to bed when that is done. This formula is very good for ponies. Your breasts will grow and produce milk, although it also seems to put ponies in heat." The woman laughed at her comment and then left, closing and locking the bolt on the door with a loud clunk.

Sarah was sure she could feel the liquid draining from the bottle into her breasts. She truly hopped that a single treatment would not have much effect on her breasts. She liked them the size they were and she did not want to start to lactate. She certainly did not need her sexual libido enhanced, especially while she had to wear that infernal device covering her pleasure bud. She did not think the liquid would already be having any such effect. But, she could still feel the pressure on her clitoris and the after effect of having the metal hood move up and down as she had walked. She was not overly sexual, but right now all she could think about was the need in her pleasure bud. She really needed to touch it. Sarah stretched a gloved hand toward her sex. She could not tell how close she got but she was well short of her goal.

She tried to stand very still to see if the urges would subside. But she could not take her mind off of her need and that only seemed to make it worse. Damn. At best it would be many hours before Amy could come for her and in the mean time she would be completely helpless to affect any release either from her restraints or from the growing desire that seemed to be building between her legs and now in her nipples. Damn.

Sarah tried to look down at the bottle sitting between her breasts.How quickly was it draining? She could not tell. She could see the top of the bottle. It was only about five inches long and perhaps an inch and a half in diameter, but she could not see the level of the liquid. She was sure she could feel it though. A tingling was radiating out from the base of her tightly confined and bulging breasts up to the nipples where it seemed to come together. She had always been responsive to nipple stimulation. She could tell that her nipples had hardened and were extended. Instinctively her hands tried to move up to touch her breasts. The distance was ok, but given the angle of her arms she could not tilt her hands high enough to get to breasts. She tried to twist and shift her body but the best she could do was to barely touch the side of a breast with the exposed finger tips through her confining gloves. The effort only seemed to make her nipples tingle more. If she could she would have rubbed them against something, but she was held in the middle of her stall and could not reach anything with her now aching nipples.

Eventually the handler returned. Sarah had no idea if it had been an hour or longer. All she knew was that her legs and feet hurt terribly and she was about as horny as she ever remembered. Whatever they had given her really did the trick. This was going to be a long miserable wait. Thankfully the bottle was unscrewed and the lever returned to its position. Sarah felt the needles withdraw from her breasts as the lever was raised. She could not wait to get this contraption off her breasts. The chain from the ceiling was unclipped and in its place a chain from the back wall was clipped to the back of Sarah's girth belt. "Like locking her in her stall with her arms restrained was not enough?" Sarah turned to the back wall and let her eyes follow the light, but strong, chain from its connection to a shackle in the wall up to where she was standing.

After the handler had left and closed and latched the door Sarah walked forward to the door to her stall. She could feel the chain to her back come tight just as her body got to the door. She could lean her head forward and touch the bars, but she could not quite touch the door with her body. In particular she could not touch her breasts. Rubbing her nipples back and forth over the bars had seemed a good idea, but that was to be denied her. Even though the liquid was not still entering her breasts they were still alive with sensation and her nipples itched and ached.

Sarah tried to look up the corridor. The bars were too close together for her head to go through, but she could see much of the opposite side. She counted at least 9 doors, one directly across from her and four to each side. The four to the left reached back to the entrance she had come through. The four to her right did not finish the corridor and she could not see the doors that continued on. She was not sure how far it went.

Sarah could hear sounds coming from other stalls. She was not the only one here. She could not see anyone else. She could see into the stall directly across from her and to a lesser extent into the stall to the right and left of it. After that her vision allowed almost nothing of the interiors. She thought she saw movement in the stall to the left but could not make out the creature inside. The stall in front and to the right seemed empty, but if someone were lying on the sleeping pad they would not be visible from her vantage point. None of this provided her with much information.

Where would Amy come from? Was there another door at the end of the corridor? She hoped so. When she and Amy had done their recon they had identified a large loading dock area. They had also identified some long buildings that were likely to be holding areas for the inhabitants of the facility. There had been an exterior door not too far from the closest of these buildings. Sarah could only hope that she was in that building. The facility was not huge; it was not a full blown training facility but rather an induction, processing and temporary holding facility. The girls had learned that the primary training areas were farms in the county - which made sense for the training of ponies. Sarah was more than happy that she would not get a chance to see the appearance of such facilities - and especially how they operated. In the few hours she had been held Sarah had had more than enough of being a ponygirl. She wanted nothing more to do with this regiment.

Sarah had managed to distract herself for a bit, but the itching between her legs and in her nipples would not go away. She really needed to find some relief. She turned her attention to the feeding trough. It was set at about chest height so that she could bend forward and easily reach inside with her mouth. She was hungry, but the contents did not look particularly inviting. Instead she concentrated on the trough itself. She bent forward and rubbed her nipples over the forward edge of the trough. But the metal had been carefully formed to avoid any sharp edges. This was of course done for safety reasons, but it also made the trough pretty useless as an aid to stimulation. Maybe it would be better with another part of her body. The sensation in her clitoris was increasing as she continued to think about sex. Pushed forward by its piercing like a little penis and shrouded in its metal jacket every movement of her legs transferred to her pleasure bud. But as most women know, a flat surface is all but useless to aid in clitoral stimulation. Sarah thrust her pelvis forward and tried to wrap her legs around the corner edges of the trough, but the trough was set to high for her to make contact with any portion of it.

Sarah stomped her foot in frustration. She had not thought about it, just done it, and it hurt. The metal nub pushed into her sole and that hurt. She wondered if, no, how badly, her feet would be bruised from these awful foot restraints. Was there some purpose to these other than torture? She could not imagine what it would be or what it would have to do with being a pony. She shook her foot back and forth rattling the hobble chain. At least the ankle cuffs, unlike the gloves, had traditional locks. Amy would have those open in seconds. Hell, Sarah could have them open in minutes, if she had the use of her hands and any simple tool. She flexed her fingers as best she could and tugged at the restraints holding her hands to the sides of her girth belt. She knew they were held in place with a simple snap link type ring. All that was required to release her hands from her belt was the opening of a small spring loaded gate in the ring. Then the ring from her wrist or the ring on her belt could slide free. But closed, the ring was strong, and her range of motion did not allow her to place any twisting tension on the ring. The only way to release it was to push and then hold down the gate while moving the ring off. Sarah realized just how much we take for granted the simple tasks performed by our hands and fingers.

Her change of focus had taken her mind off the need of her body, at least for a moment, but it was back now. Sarah had never quite felt like this. She did not consider herself a very sexual creature, and right now it should be the last thing on her mind, but it was far from that. What had they done to her? Was it just that she could not touch herself? All she really needed to do was to touch herself. She turned and looked around the stall. Nothing. There was nothing to help her. She looked at the chain connected to the back wall. Maybe she could rub against the ring on the chain. The ring was about a foot off the ground. Sarah knelt down next to it. She moved her body up to the wall and tried to lower herself onto the small projection that was the ring and its attached chain. It was too low. She spread her knees (her ankles were held at 12" by the hobble) and tried to work down to it. That did not work. She lay down on her side and tried to lift her body to connect with it. Now it was too high. Had they done this on purpose or was it just stupid dumb luck? It didn't matter. There was nothing she could do.

Sarah lay down on the mat that was to be the bed. She lifted her feet and arched her back trying to grind her pelvis into the mat. The mat was relatively hard rubber. It would actually be hard to sleep on. She was sure with her clitoris pulled so far forward by the piercing that she would be able to rub it on the mat surface. Again she spread her knees as far as she could. The sensation in her clitoris was increasing. She had barely made contact. But she could not feel actual contact. She could feel the pressure but not more. She realized that the flesh of her clitoris itself was not exposed. It was locked within the protective hood. She could feel the pressure and presence of the hood and that had some impact, but she knew it would not be enough. She wondered if even with the help of her hands she would be able to get herself off. She was not sure.

Sarah tried to rub her nipples on the mat. Maybe that would help. It didn't they hurt. They hurt a lot. She could feel the weight of the appliance hanging from the end of each breast. She could feel the sensitive flesh around the piercing, thousands of nerve endings still complaining about their insult. The pain started to take the edge off her sexual need, but something strange was happening. She was sure that her clitoris was swelling in and around its hood. Was she responding sexually to the pain? She was certainly not a masochist so that could not be it. But the pain in her breasts seemed to be translating into feelings of pleasure. She needed to stop this. But she couldn't. Her need was too great. At first she had reacted with a squeal and pulled back from the pain, but now she was pushing each breast down and moving it back and forth. She would find the point of the pain and then slowly work the flesh into it. She worked one breast, then the other. She was moaning loudly, but she was not aware of it. She just kept looking for that right point where she could control and direct the pain. It seemed to run forward through the nipple and back through the flesh of her bulging breasts.

The shackles on her new breast rings hung down below the nipple. By approaching the mat with a sideways movement she could put pressure on the shackle slowly increasing the pressure until it would pop free either going up or down from the nipple. Because it was connected directly to the pin that pierced the breast and because the wound was fresh the pressure would be directed right into the wound. It hurt, but somehow she needed more. It was not enough. She was grinding her hips and moving her body back and forth on the mat. She bounced her body up and down on her tightly constrained breasts. The pain flowed from the tips back through the flesh. It also pulsed from the tight bands forward. She was almost there. Just a little more would do it.

There was a bang. It was only a stall door being closed and then bolted, but it was close by, either next to her or across the corridor and it completely broke the mood. Then she heard a giggle. Sarah knew someone was at her door. She had been caught. She did not want to look up and see who was there. She was mortified. How could she be acting in such a wanton fashion? What must this person think of her? What if Amy saw her doing this? She would never ever hear the end of it. What if that was Amy?

Sarah rolled to her side and looked up as best she could at the barred section above her door. It was not Amy standing there. She didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed. The woman at the door was young, certainly no older than Sarah.

"You are a horny little filly aren't you?" Sarah did not try to answer she just starred daggers back.

"I have seen a pony get off without help before, but it is rare. Usually requires a real pain slut." The girl was continuing and Sarah did not like it one bit.

"I hope I get you for training. I think I would love to explore that side of you. I guarantee I can make you a great pony." The girls face had softened into something that looked like affection.

"I am no pony and nothing you can do will turn me into one." Sarah could not hold back any more. She hated this woman.

"Spirit too. I love that. By the way, ponies don't talk. You are new here and I am not officially assigned to you so I won't punish or even report this, but I advise that you keep your mouth shut. That is unless you are looking for an excuse for a good canning." The girl laughed and then disappeared from Sarah's view. Sarah could hear her moving down the corridor. Sarah clambered to her feet and moved to the door. By the time she got there the girl was gone and there was nothing new to see. If another pony had been brought in, and she was pretty sure that one had, she did not know where that pony was now.

Sarah returned to her sleeping pad and settled down onto it. She considered lying down and trying to get some sleep, but she was afraid Amy might come and not recognize her in this awful hood. She needed to watch for Amy. She wondered where Amy was now. Probably sitting in some coffee house enjoying her favorite latte or, maybe she was having a glass of wine. No, she was responsible and would not drink until after she had rescued Sarah. It would be the latte.

Sarah worked herself around and slipped back into the corner. She was seated on the mat with her legs pulled up in front of her. Her back was against the back wall of the stall at the corner. From here she could rest and still watch the door for Amy's arrival. She knew it was still way too early. Everything had to quiet down before Amy would, could, come for her. But there was nothing else for Sarah to do. She had inspected her restraints, she twisted and shook them again now, it was clear, without help there was nothing she could do to get out of any of them.

Sarah and Amy had practiced escaping from various predicaments. It was that activity that had given them the idea for the fake indentures in the first place. Amy had always escaped from whatever Sarah had done to her. Sarah not always, but mostly. Amy had hogtied her once with simple rope. Sarah thought it would be easy to escape and had made some catty comments. (Important note: Do not mouth off to someone who is tying you up.) Amy had not said anything until she was done. Sarah was tied at the knees, the ankles, the wrists and the elbows. The elbow ropes were secured with a line going under her arm around her neck then back under the other arm where it then wrapped around the elbow tie and up to her neck where it pulled the entire elbow tie up toward the line around the back of her neck. The rope from her ankles had been tied off then brought up to the knees where it was finally knotted off. Her wrists were tied and then cinched. The knot was tied off on the top of the cinch far from what she could reach with her elbows disabled, but then the running ends were brought through the cinch of her ankles, pulled back and secured at her elbow tie. She could hardly move and there was nothing she could reach that would help her get out.

"Sometimes rope is much more secure than chains and locks." Amy had said as she left the room. "After I have had my latte I may return and let you go. Just hope I don't meet anyone interesting while I am there." She picked up her jacket and went to the door. "Feel free to join me if you can. I will buy." She laughed and the door closed. Sarah hadn't liked it. She liked their escape games, but she didn't like this. She knew the correct actions for escaping from a rope tie.

First, you feel for rope ends. If you can find one you can sometimes follow it back to a knot. Sometimes pulling can loosen things. There were no rope ends to be found. They had all been tied off at her elbows or knees.

See if you can slip a wrist or move a binding down from an anchor point or to a narrower part of the body. This included moving ropes from above to below the elbow, down the body or the legs, anything that would create slack in the bindings. Work the bindings back and forth by changing the alignment of the restrained body parts - this usually meant twisting the wrists, arms, or ankles one way or the other against the bindings. She had tried to twist and pull her arms at the elbow tie. The over the shoulder harness tie insured that it would not slip. Even if she freed her hands she would have serious difficulty releasing her elbows.

Releasing a hand is the most important step in any rope escape. Sometimes you can tighten the wrappings on one wrist to create slack on the other. The same approach is possible on other parts of the body but more difficult to apply. A wrist can be pulled out with the least amount of additional slack. Close your thumb into the palm of the hand and try to work through the wrist bindings. This is very difficult to do with the elbows tied. With your elbows tied together it is impossible to work a single wrist loose.

Feel around for knots. When you find one see if you can loosen the knot. This even applies in situations where the knot is not at the end of the rope. Loosening the knot sometimes allows slack to be moved through it loosening the tie the knot was meant to secure.

Find any line with some slack in it and then move it toward where you needed slack. Sometimes you can move the slack into a different position creating enough to perform one of the above tasks.

The use of tools was important. Something sharp could cut rope, but even things like a stick or ballpoint pen can be used to enhance the above actions by picking a knot. A stick can even be used to place between the ropes and the body and then leverage the ropes off. Feeding another rope or similar thing through a binding may then allow it to be hooked over something else and used to apply pressure to help remove the restraint.

Sarah tried everything she had learned. Nothing worked. She was completely helpless. She was very flexible, but that did not help. She could not slip a wrist, the tie was too tight and the elbow tie didn't allow for any angles to be put on the tie. All the knots were out of reach, either at her knees or her elbows. She tried to work some slack into the ropes, but she could not create enough to use to her advantage. Amy had been careful to insure there were no tools within reach and the door to the bedroom had been closed so Sarah could not try to roll somewhere and find something to help.

When Amy finally returned an hour or so later Sarah was fuming. Sarah tensed and was about to tell Amy what she thought. Amy shook her head. "Be very careful now. I think I am beginning to feel the need for another latte."

Sarah's whole body went limp. She lowered her head and sobbed. Then she turned to her side and slid her body across the floor until she could lay her head against the side of Amy's leg. "Now that is a good girl." Amy said as she stroked the side of Sarah's head. Sarah remembered that Amy had not stopped there. Her hands had explored Sarah's naked body touching and tweaking her nipples and then stroking the inner sides of her thighs before a finger finally moved inside and began to gently run around her labia and then flick at Sarah's pleasure bud. Sarah had gone crazy. She had twisted and bucked and moaned. She tried to push her sex further into Amy's hand, but Amy maintained control, teasing and caressing. She kissed the side of Sarah's head and then her mouth.

Sarah had not been gagged but all she could say was "Yes and please and don't stop." Amy didn't stop until just before Sarah thought she was going to explode. Then Amy rolled Sarah onto her stomach and slipped her legs around Sarah's head. Sarah's mouth was now positioned right over Amy's sex. The message was clear and Sarah obeyed. She moved her head back and forth as her tongue dove into the moist opening. It appeared that Amy had become as excited as Sarah. It was not long before Amy was moaning and shaking. Sarah took great pleasure in bringing Amy to climax but by then her need was immense.

Amy turned her attention back to Sarah. Her mouth found Sarah's nipples, licking and caressing first one and then the other. Her hands found her now moist sex and went back to work. Sarah knew she would have rope burns on her wrists, elbows, and ankles, if not from her earlier efforts at escape clearly now from her struggles. She was so helpless. She was completely in the control of Amy and Amy could do anything she wanted to Sarah. Sarah had never felt quite so excited. Was being helpless contributing to her excitement? It certainly seemed that way. But Amy was not cruel and after teasing and tormenting for a while she brought Sarah to climax.

When she was done Sarah felt completely limp. She did not think she would be able to move even when she was released. Amy too seemed completely sated. She collapsed next to Sarah and just lay there. For minutes they both just lay on the floor both breathing deeply. Then Amy crawled up onto the bed and collapsed.

Sarah looked around. Sarah looked up at the bed. Sarah was still hogtied and now things were starting to hurt. Her arms hurt a lot. The elbows were not touching, but they had been pulled back close to each other and then tightly wrapped. She wanted to follow Amy onto the bed, but she could not navigate the several foot height of the bed from the floor.

"Didn't you forget something?" Sarah tried a joking subtle approach. There was no response or movement from the bed. Sarah could see one of Amy's feet, but that was all and it was not moving.

"Hey!" She raised the tone a little. "A little help here would be nice." Still no movement or response.

"Amy!" The volume was up and the tone sharp. "Amy don't go to sleep. Untie me first." Sarah's head was only about two feet from where Amy's foot hung off the end of the bed. But it might as well have been in the next county. Sarah could not get to it. Sarah rolled to her side and tried to bang against the bed.

"Amy. Help. Please help me." Sarah's voice was insistent now, and loud. Very loud. The foot moved. That was a good sign.

Amy's head and upper body appeared above the edge of the bed. Sarah looked up with shock at her hand. She was swinging a ball gag back and forth. "It certainly got noisy in here. But there is a solution for that." Amy was looking right into Sarah's eyes. Sarah could see that her bondage session was not yet over. Damn.

"Ok, I'll be good." Sarah felt defeated. She wanted to argue with Amy, but she knew when Amy made her mind up about something there was no changing it. If she resisted and complained it would only prolong the time before Amy finally let her go.

"You were supposed to get loose. After all our practice you failed. Failure has a price." Amy slipped off the bed next to Sarah. Sarah wondered if she was going to start touching her again. She was pretty exhausted, but the idea was certainly not repellant to her. Amy stroked Sarah's head moving her hair back. Sarah relaxed and pushed her head against Amy.

Sarah felt pressure on her lips. She opened her mouth to speak and the ballgag popped into her mouth. Sarah shook her head wildly, but Amy quickly buckled the gag behind Sarah's head. "I am going to take a nap. You can continue to try to escape or you can rest but whatever you do you better do it quietly. If you wake me up you will be very sorry." Amy smiled, patted Sarah on the head and crawled back onto the bed. This time the foot disappeared all the way. Sarah could see no sign of Amy.

Sarah bit into the gag. Sarah shook her head. Sarah tried to rub her mouth against the floor. The gag was tight and just like the rest of Sarah's bondage it was not coming off. Sarah was furious. She wanted to scream at Amy but part of her told her that was a bad idea and she better just roll with the program. Sarah already knew she could not escape from the ropes. She was going to be tied until Amy decided to let her go. She sighed and finally tried to relax on the floor.

As Sarah sat in her stall thinking about the past she recalled that she had, in fact, finally slept and that when Amy woke from her nap they had repeated the sexual adventures of earlier in the day. It was only then that Amy released a completely exhausted Sarah. Sarah had soaked in a bath for at least an hour before crawling to bed.

Damn. She was horny again. Had her daydream made her horny or was she having the daydream because she was horny? She didn't know. All she really knew is that just like in her daydream she could do nothing about getting out of her restraints. She was, just as before, able to do nothing but wait for Amy. Only then she had known right where Amy was. Sarah had felt secure. Now she was in the hands of others who were intent on keeping her bound. Where was Amy now? How long before she would come for her? It was all that Sarah could do to suppress the terror.

Sarah tried to move as little as possible. She sat against the wall and watched the area above the stall door. Unless someone came right to her door she could see little. She saw movement and heard sounds. It was clear that other ponies and their handlers were moving in the corridor. Doors were opened and closed. Locking bolts were thrown. It seemed clear that ponies were being returned from their activities of the day. Perhaps soon they would all be put away and things would quiet down. That would be the opportunity for Amy to come and save her. Sarah could not wait to see Amy's face in the bars above the door. She did all within her power to will it to happen quickly. She prayed that Amy would recognize her in this damn hood. What if she did not recognize Sarah? What if Sarah did not see Amy at the door? She hated this damn hood. She shook her head back and forth, but there was nothing she could do. She would remain bound and hooded - completely helpless until Amy came to rescue her.

Amy took the check for $50,000, folded in and put it in her pocket. One of the women opened the door to the hallway and Amy walked out. She wanted to look back at Sarah and give her a reassuring look, but she knew better. She had the money. She would go to the bank and cash the check, then she could come back this evening and help Sarah escape. When the buyers found Sarah was gone tomorrow they would try to stop the check, but it would be too late. She would have the money and she and Sarah would be $50,000 richer. That would tide them for a good while before they had to try this again. Amy felt a rush of adrenaline. She was almost sorry that Sarah was the slave today and not her. She remembered the twinge of fear she had felt when Sarah had left her during the last con. That fear combined with the challenge of the escape was overpowering. This was not nearly so satisfying. Sarah was taking virtually all the risk. Amy would have some when she broke into the facility later that night, but for now she just had work to do.

Amy had stopped paying attention to the two women as the three of them had walked up the hallway toward the exit of the facility.

"Ms. Ramirez, we need a word with you before you leave." There was a micro expression of fear that washed over Amy, but she caught her composure before anyone could have noticed. At least she thought it was before anyone could have noticed.

"Please come in for a moment." The woman opened a door and gestured for Amy to enter.

Amy stopped and looked at her with a puzzled expression. "I don't understand. Our business is done and I have things to do. I don't know any Ms. Ramirez."

"We think you do." The other woman had grabbed Amy's upper arm and actually turned her toward the doorway. Amy looked at the woman now holding her arm and then looked toward the door of the facility, only about 40 feet away. She remembered when they entered that it had been locked and they had been buzzed in. It was certainly locked now. There did not appear to be a pressure bar or any emergency release on the inside.

Amy shrugged and stepped into the room. "Make this fast." She decided she needed to keep her affirmative demeanor.

They entered the room and the woman closed the door. It was an office with a desk and several chairs. "Please sit." The woman gestured toward a reasonably comfortable chair in front of the desk.

Amy sat down. The woman who had held her arm let go but stood at the doorway to the room. The other woman walked behind the desk. Amy looked at the woman at the door. She was large, and from the feel of her grip on Amy's arm strong.

"What is this about?" Amy let the irritation in her voice show through. "If you had any question of my ownership in the slave you should have raised that before we closed the deal. Are you trying to get out of our deal?"

"We are fine with that deal. Better than you might imagine. We are interested in you."

"Ok, what is your interest in me? I don't work for others. I work on my own, but if I find another suitable property I will contact you." Amy started to stand up. The woman by the door moved forward and pushed down on Amy's shoulder. Amy sat back down.

"We have reason to believe that you are Maria Ramirez a runaway indenture from the Perfect Servant facility."

"That is crazy. You have seen my identification. It is on the sale agreement I gave you. I don't know any Maria Ramirez and I am not an indenture, runaway or otherwise." Amy's heart was starting to beat strongly. She was actually enjoying the waves of fear that were trying to wash through her. She easily controlled them and kept her demeanor.

"Then you must have a twin sister." The woman pushed a photograph across the table. It was a picture of a naked Amy with wearing a collar and with her hands cuffed behind her. It had been taken when the transaction for her sale had been closed. "I even see a mole on the right cheek."

"I don't know about any picture. I know people can doctor these things. Are you trying to scam me out of the money you just paid?"

"Not at all my dear, we are only trying to recover our property. You see we own the Perfect Servant as well as a number of other facilities. That means that we own you Ms. Ramirez."

"This is stupid. You do not own me and I am leaving now." Amy started to rise again. Again she was pushed down into the seat.

"Under the law we have sufficient probable cause to take you into custody pending a hearing. We have notified the authorities and there will be a magistrate her first thing in the morning to hear your case. In the mean time, you will be our guest."

"I can't stay here. I have things to do. I will be happy to come back tomorrow morning and clear this all up." Amy did not try to rise this time. She knew it was of no avail.

"Right. Of course you will. You will be held here until morning. So long as you cooperate it will be minimum security. As you well know if you resist we are allowed to use whatever force is necessary to secure you." Amy did know this. She also knew that she would have a better chance to escape from minimum security, especially when Sarah was also going to be locked up and not able to assist Amy.

"Ok. But I want my protest registered, and when this matter is all cleared up I expect compensation for this indignity."

"Please stand up and remove all your clothing." The woman produced a paper bag and put it on the desk in front of Amy.

Amy removed her shirt and her jeans. She folded them and put them in the bag. She took off her sneakers and put them in on top. She stood in her bra, panties and white socks.

"All of the clothing please." The woman pointed toward the bra and panties. Amy removed her personal items, including her socks and put them in the bag. The woman took the bag, folded over the top and stapled it closed. With a marker she wrote "Maria Ramirez" on the bag. Amy was not self conscious about her body but she still crossed her arms across her chest covering her ample breasts.

The other woman had approached from the side. "Wrist please." Amy held out her right wrist and watched as the woman fastened a leather cuff in place. The process was repeated with her left wrist. "Arms up." Amy raised her arms as the woman fastened a six inch wide belt around her waist. Amy felt it tightened in the back and heard the distinctive clicking of locks. Meanwhile, Amy took a minute to look at the lock on the wrist cuff. She tried to hold back her smile. Simple lock, it would frustrate most, but she would need very little to defeat it.

The woman then took a carabineer type clip and fastened each wrist to a ring in the side of the belt. "You will notice that I bear no indenture or slave code." Amy stepped back from the desk slightly and turned from side to side in front of the woman.

"Nor does Ms. Ramirez. A procedure defect, now corrected, that we thank you for. All new purchases are now marked almost immediately." Amy did not like the sound of that. That meant Sarah was going to be coded with a slave registration. Amy was sure she would never hear the end of that from her once they were out of here.

The woman at Amy's side then knelt down and fastened cuffs to each of Amy's ankles. They locked with the same type mechanism as the wrist cuffs. There was an 18 inch chain between the cuffs. Amy watched then lifted one foot and gave it a small shake. She watched the chain rattle back and forth. So far, so good. There was nothing about any of these restraints that bothered her.

The final accessory was a collar. The woman ended with a leash to a ring in the collar.

"Julie will escort you to your room. I would enjoy it. This may be the last time you enjoy such comfort for a long time. You know that your indenture is extended by three years for an escape?"

Amy did not respond. There really did not seem like anything to say and the other woman had now pulled on the leash. Amy followed. They left the small office and proceeded down the hallway away from the entrance. Finally they entered a small room. It had a cot, a chair, and a small desk against one of the walls. There was a door that opened onto a small bathroom. It was probably not designed to hold prisoners but more a place for staff to sleep when on extended duty.

"You may use the television so long as you keep the volume low. A meal will be brought to you when the staff is fed the evening meal." The woman unfastened the leash and left the room. She locked a dead bolt in the door from the outside. The inside required a key to operate.

Amy made a quick inspection of her new surroundings. The bathroom was small and there was not much there, but on a ledge of the cabinet over the sink Amy found a hair pin. She smiled deeply. She returned to the room and searched. There was a drawer in the desk and inside she found a paper clip. Heaven. She now had what she needed.

Amy used the drawer to put a very small crimp into the end of the paperclip. It now was a straight wire with about an eighth of an inch bent up at the end. She considered removing her cuffs, unlocking the door and getting the hell out of there right now, but that would create alarm when the dinner meal came and she was gone. That might make it very difficult to get Sarah out. She knew she needed to revert to the plan, at least as modified by the current situation. She needed to stay, have dinner and wait for things to quiet down.

Dinner was not great, but it was certainly better than most slaves were served. An attendant brought the food and released Amy's right hand so she could eat. She was made to sit in the chair first and a link was fastened between her belt and the back of the chair. The attendant stood back and watched. Amy did not like people watching her eat, but she did her best to act normal. She finished her food and stayed properly submissive as the attendant refastened her right wrist to the girth belt.

After the attendant had taken the tray and left Amy turned on the television and then lay down on the cot to rest. She did not dare go to work on her restraints yet for fear of someone coming to check on her. She knew it was very early evening and she needed to wait until later to make her move.

There was no clock in the room and Amy's watch had been taken with her clothing but she could tell from the darkness that it was getting late. There was a sort of window in the room. It had a drape, but when Amy moved the drape aside it revealed actually two narrow windows only about eight inches wide with heavy permanent glass. The window would not provide an exit from the facility.

Amy decided it was time to get the hell out of here and go get Sarah. She figured that by now Sarah had opened her cuffs and removed any locks that encumbered here. Amy wished she had the lock picking tools from Sarah's collar, but that would have to wait until they linked up. For now her makeshift tools would work.

The first trick was to release her wrists from the waist belt. They were held on the sides so that one hand could not aid the other. The clip had a simple hinged gate, but the hand it held could not reach it sufficiently to activate it. That was the reason they did not need locking restraints.

Amy was very flexible. She sat Indian style on the floor, then she leaned forward and used the toes of her right foot to reach the clip holding her left wrist. The hobble chain allowed just enough length to reach. Grabbing the gate of the clip between her great toe and first toe she turned it in to open the clip. Then using pressure from her wrist she maneuvered the clip off of the ring in the waist.

With one hand free she was able to release the other wrist and then go to work on her restraints. The leg shackles seemed to be an integrated unit so she needed to unlock both cuffs. Using the paper clip and the hair pin it took her less than a minute per cuff. The wrist cuffs were more of a challenge because she could only use one hand to work the tools. But Amy was good. She was very good and in less than 10 more minutes both wrist cuffs were unlocked and joined the leg cuffs on the cot.

The hardest part of the collar and belt was the fact that the lock was in the back and neither of these items wanted to rotate. For the belt she was able to look in the mirror and then work the locks. There were actually two of them. The same approach to the collar was more challenging. It was hard to turn her head far enough to properly see what was going on. She had almost given up and decided to just let the collar stay for now when she heard it click open. All of her body restraints were gone.

The deadbolt on the door to the room was not fancy, not expensive, and even with the makeshift tools quickly gave way. Amy beamed. She loved this. She felt alive. There was nothing as liberating as a good escape. She was actually turned on. But that would have to wait. Right now she needed to find Sarah. The only bad part was that the check, the $50,000 that they had done all this for, was in the pocket of her shirt, in the bag with her cloths, and probably back in the office she had been taken to.

Amy decided that before she went looking for Sarah she needed to retrieve the check - not to mention her clothing. She would like this adventure a lot more if she were dressed.

Amy looked up and down the hallway. It was empty, dark, and very quiet. She slowly worked her way back to the door where she had been stripped and cuffed. It was, of course, locked. That was not a problem. Amy went to work with her new tools and this lock, just like the one on the door to the room gave in. She opened the door and peaked inside. The room was completely dark.

Amy stepped in and closed the door. The room lit up. Now Amy was surprised.

She looked over and saw the woman from earlier sitting behind her desk. Amy tried to open the door she had just unlocked, but the handle did not turn. She turned and looked again at the woman. Then she felt hands on her arms. Someone stepped up from both sides and grabbed her.

"Thank you so much for that little show. I think the Magistrate will find it compelling evidence of the prowess of Ms. Ramirez." She smiled and leaned back.

Amy, usually in complete control, was frozen. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to do. She stood there looking at the woman. Amy felt her hands pulled behind her. Her palms were placed against each other, then something was pulled up over her arms. It ended just above her elbows. A strap was pulled up from the bottom under each arm, across the chest in front then over the other shoulder. Each strap was then pulled down and buckled into something on the top of the binder that now surrounded her arms.

Amy twisted her arms and shoulders, but the women held her in place. Then one of them began working at the back of this device. Amy felt it tightening as its laces were pulled. Her elbows were moving toward each other. It was not comfortable and she tried to shift her arms inside the binder, but every time she moved her arms they just pulled the binder tighter. Finally she just stopped and waited for them to finish. When the woman finished tightening the lacings she tightened the straps that held the binder up.

Amy knew what a single sleeve armbinder was, but she had never worn one before. This was not going to be easy to get off. With her elbows held so closely together - not quite touching, but still close - she would not be able to work an arm out without first lowering the binder. With the straps pulling it up toward her shoulders there was no way to work it down her arms. And with her arms held in the binder there was no way to reach the buckles on the straps.

"Bring her." The woman said as she got up and went to the door. The two women grabbed Amy by her upper arms. They frog marched her through the door and down the hallway. This time they went through a door on the opposite side, one that led into the interior of the facility.

Amy's mind was reeling. It was not supposed to be this way. She was supposed to be dressed and going to rescue Sarah. She was not sure what they were going to do with her, but she was pretty sure she was not going to like it. She was also sure that escape just became a great deal more complicated.

After they went down a few hallways - Amy tried to make a mental map of the route - they turned through a door into a mostly bare room. There was a table, a few chairs, some electrical equipment, and a large pile of something leather. Amy was led toward this latter.

As one of the women continued to hold on to Amy the other picked up the leather thing from the ground and began to straighten it out. It looked like a very large leather sack with lots of lacing, straps, and buckles. Amy tried to look around the room to see if there was a means of escape, but the door they had entered was closed. Even if she broke the grip of the woman holder her she would be unable to open the door.

The woman spread the sack out on the ground. It was roughly the shape of a human body. Amy had no delusions about what was about to happen. She knew she was going into the sack. It was spread open. She was walked forward and made to stand in the sack with her feet in the open section about a third of the way up from the bottom.

The two women now took her arms and laid her down on top of the sack. She made a half hearted attempt to avoid being taken down but a kick at the back of her knees removed her balance. "You can go in without a beating or after a beating. Your choice." The woman in charge was snapping a crop into her hand. Amy decided that without the beating was preferable. She stopped struggling.

The women pushed Amy's feet down into the bottom of the bag. As they held it open Amy could see that the inside was lined with a number of copper strips. Strips ran up where each of the soles of her feet would go, they ran up the legs, and they were cross hashed at various points up the inside.

The foot section was tight and the women had to pull to get the bag up over her feet. As they were pressed in the form of the bag also forced her to point her toes straight down. When they were happy with the placement of the feet an interior strap was fastened over her ankles holding them tightly together and secure to the bag. Even if Amy rethought resisting her ankles were now completely secure and she would be unable to pull them from the bag.

As they worked her down into the bag straps were added just above her knees and another at her waist. The knee strap was only loosely fastened. The woman then reached down between Amy's legs and pulled up another strap. Amy saw that this strap was also adorned with a long dildo. As Amy watched in horror it was lubricated and then pressed up into her pussy. She was no stranger to dildos, but that was always with her own hand. It was somehow so much more invasive to have one inserted by another person. She could see what looked like knobs and copper squares at various places on this dildo. The strap holding the dildo was then fed through a buckle on the waist strap and tightened.

"Ow, shit, not so damn tight." Her protestation was completely ignored. The dildo felt huge inside her and she could feel that it had an extension that pushed up against her clitoris. But it was now tightly strapped in place and there was nothing she could do to loosen it or get it out. At least so tightly fastened it would not be moving around much. Amy noticed that from the end of the dildo there were several wires that extended back into the suit. After the belt holding the intruder inside Amy was secured, the belt above her knees was tightened. In-between her thighs there was a leather piece about an inch wide.

Amy could see that the inside of the bag had small squares in a copper color throughout.

As the upper part of the bag was shaken and pulled over her upper body Amy's bound arms slipped into a space in the back of the suit seemingly made to accommodate just such a restraint.

From the inside of the upper section two half spheres were extended slightly and fit over her breasts. The women made sure they were aligned as they wanted before they pulled the leather bag halves together over them.

The bag now enclosed Amy from her toes to her neck. The bag was first zipped closed but then lacings that ran from just above her ankles all the way to her neck were slowly tightened. The bag closed around her body embracing it tighter and tighter. Amy felt like she was slipping into the maw of an anaconda. Satisfied at last the lacings were tied neatly at the neck and a leather strap at the neck was buckled over the top of the lacing, completing the package.

Amy knew she was in deep trouble now. There was no skill on earth that would allow for escape from this predicament. Her only hope was that Sarah would escape and somehow find her. But Sarah did not know she had been taken. Sarah would not be looking for her confined helplessly in some leather bag. Amy was in real trouble.

"You are going to get an opportunity to try out a very new device. This is our good pony conditioner. It is designed to make slaves much more compliant. I think a night in this will be very valuable for you. By morning you may be a lot more truthful than you have been so far. It will also allow the rest of us to get some rest without being worried about any of your shenanigans. When the rest is in place I think you will find it very, well, entertaining." Amy hated the smile on the woman's face. She would have loved to slap it off her face.

"You can't make me into a compliant slave just by locking me in some stupid bag." Amy knew she should keep her mouth shut, but she was furious beyond words and she just couldn't help herself. All she had at this point was her words.

The woman nodded to one of her assistance and Amy looked over to see more leather. It was a hood. They were going to hood her. First one of the women pushed something down into each of Amy's ear canals. She could feel slight wires extending from these. The hood was being held right in front of her face as the woman adjusted it to the right angles.

"No. Please, I'm sorry. Don't do that to me. I can't take it. I can't get away. You don't need to hood me. Please. No." Amy was shifting her eyes back and forth from the hood in front of her to the woman who was in charge. No answer came, but Amy's words were suddenly cut off as the woman pushed the hood over her head beginning by setting a ring in the gag into her mouth and behind her teeth. Amy tried to keep her mouth shut, but the other woman pinched her nose and twisted her ear painfully until suddenly the ring popped into place. An interior strap from the ring gag was pulled around her head and tightly fastened. Even if there was some slack in the hood the ring gag portion was not coming out.

The remainder of the hood easily slipped over her head. The eyes were covered with eye pieces. Amy could see movement beyond them but it was mostly obscured. Padding at the ears over the top of the ear pieces pushed into her ears removed all sound from outside the bag. Amy was rolled onto her stomach and felt laces in the back of the hood tightened until it was just as tight as the rest of her sarcophagus. She was rolled back and something was pushed into her mouth through the ring that held it open. It was firm yielding only slightly to pushes by her tongue. She could not close her mouth on it or use her teeth because of the ring gag. Tubes were then pushed into each of her nostrils. Not too deep, but enough to prevent air from coming around them. She could breathe through her mouth, but the air was coming through the thing that had been shoved into her mouth, not around it.

Straps were then attached at the shoulders on both sides. The straps then pulled the leather encased bundle up until it swung freely. Amy could tell that she had been lifted and was now hanging feet down. The change of the angle forced her feet even tighter into the toe part of the container and even tightened the pressure pushing up on the phallic shaped intruder. She also felt a nub against her anus. It had not pushed through to enter her, but it was there.

There must have been a track system in the ceiling. As soon as Amy was lifted she felt her body being pushed. She could neither see nor hear what was going on around her. She did not see the bag pushed up and into a niche in the far wall. She did not see that there were six such alcoves in the wall. Nor could she see that two of them were already occupied with similar chrysalis shaped black containers. That they contained living creatures could only be detected on close observation. Any movement of the bags was very minimal. Most of this was the result of the very tight constriction of the container around the body of the occupant. Any dramatic movement was also limited when the bottom of the bag was fastened by a short chain to a ring in the floor. This prevented the bag from swinging, no matter how hard the occupant struggled.

Amy did not like the claustrophobic feeling of her container, but she knew there was nothing she could do about it. She had been told she would spend the night that way. She hoped she could just suppress the feelings of panic and sleep. There was nothing else she could do at this point. She knew she would need to develop a new plan. But, there would be time for that after she got some rest.

She heard noise. Then there was soft soothing music. It was coming through the ear pieces that had been inserted into her ears. At the same time in front of her she could see a beautiful meadow. It looked like she was looking out at it through small vertical slits in a close fitting hood. The wind was gusting and the grass and trees were moving with the breeze. Amy knew they could not have taken her outside. She knew that what she was seeing was just being projected onto the eye pieces in front of her face, but the effect was so real it felt like you could reach out and touch it. But, of course, it was not real, and reaching was a bit out of the question right now.

Four ponies moved into her field of vision. They had come up from behind her and were now around and in front of her. She was moving with them across the meadow. These were not four legged ponies. These were long legged human ponies with large pendulant breasts that bounced and moved as they ran. And they were running. They were naked except for their boots and tack. The pony boots rose up to just below the knees. The foot was curved down into a black hoof which made their legs look even longer. Their waists were wrapped with a wide girth belt that extended up in front to provide a small shelf to support but not obscure the breasts. Their wrists were cuffed to the sides of the belt and their arms were also cuffed just above the elbows and those cuffs were connected behind the back with a short chain. They were pulled back to about six inches apart.

Their heads were fully bridled with straps running over the top of the head from the side, around the forehead, from their bits back to the back of their neck and below the chin. The straps connected into a high collar that kept their heads high and straight. Check chains from the bridle to the shoulder straps of their tack prevented them from turning their heads from side to side. Under the bridle they wore tight fitting yellow hoods. The mouth was cut away for the bridle and bit, holes below their nostrils allowed them to breath freely, but their vision was restricted to narrow vertical slots two inches high and half an inch wide in front of each eye.

Amy noticed that her vision was also restricted. It was if she were one of the ponies running with this herd. They ran at a spirited gallop. They held their heads high and their backs straight. There was a freedom to the movement of this small herd of ponygirls. Amy began to feel like she was a part of it. Even though she was sealed tightly in this leather container she could feel other sensations. She felt the muscles in her legs jerking up and down with the pace of the run. She felt pressure against the soles of her feet as she stepped in pace with the running herd. She didn't know how this was being done, but she was very much enjoying the feel of this.

"Good Pony." The voice was soft and soothing. For some reason it made her feel good. Then there was what felt like fingers gently stroking her breasts. Then the fingers were inside her thighs. They worked up and around her nipples, teasing the breasts before finally starting to gently flick and work the nipples, then from her thighs to the lips of her sex, working up and down. Amy felt herself reacting to the touch. It felt so good. Something was touching her clitoris, gently working it.

In her vision Amy was still running with the herd through the meadow, but her body was now beginning to react to her arousal. "Good Pony." The voice continued in time with the stroking of her clitoris. Amy was now very excited. This felt so very good, and she was now so very horny. She tried to move her body against the giant invader in her sex and whatever was stimulating her clitoris but everything was closely connected to her and she was so constricted in her leather prison that she could do nothing.

"Good Pony knows she has to wait." The stimulation stopped. Amy had been so close to orgasm. Close, so close, but not there, and no way to finish the job. Amy screamed into her gag. She twisted her body and pulled at her arms. The struggle to her seemed immense. From outside the bag - if anyone were watching - there were slight shaking and side to side movements. There was a distinct sound of leather stretching and pulling, but Amy could not hear that. Everything in the bag had gone dark and silent.

Amy hated being left unsatisfied. She had broken off several relationships with insensitive men who had been unable to satisfy her. She hated dates where she had to go home and finish the job. Right now she would have been happy to finish the job, but she could not. All she could do is hang and squirm in frustration.

Some time later, time in full sensory deprivation is impossible to measure, there was music again. This was dark music. This was music you hear in the horror movie when someone is about to die. The vision came on. Amy was looking into the room she had occupied just a few hours (was it a few hours?) earlier. She was watching herself searching the rooms, locating and making her lock picking tools.

"Bad Pony." There was a swishing sound and fire erupted across the top of her thighs just below her buttocks. Amy had never been beaten before, but from the sound and the pain she was sure that was what had just happened. How they managed that through the heavy leather she did not know because it hurt far too much to have not been applied directly to her skin. Amy screamed and twisted. She needed to get her hands to the injured flesh, but they were held tight behind her back in the armbinder and then in the pocket of the tightly laced bag.

The image before her eyes skipped forward to her using her flexibility to release her wrists. The music was getting darker.

"Bad, Bad Pony." There was another swishing sound. This time the pain exploded across the top of her breasts. She had tensed her buttocks on the sound of the voice, but she was completely surprised by the stroke to her breasts. How on earth were they doing this? She knew she was not being actually struck, but something in this torture device was duplicating the feel. She was sure that when they let her out there would be very visible welts where both of these stripes had occurred.

Now she was working the picks to unlock her wrist.

"Such a very bad pony."

"No, please." Amy tried to yell just as the swishing sound filled her ears and her buttocks exploded with intense pain. This hurt. This hurt way too much. They needed to stop this. She twisted and pulled. She screamed at the top of her lungs, but not only was there nobody there to watch there was nobody that would have interceded on her behalf.

With each cuff and lock a stroke was delivered. Her breasts now burned above and below the nipples, they fortunately had been untouched. Her thighs had been struck across the back and the inside. This latter proved that her tormenter was this strange suit because her legs were held tightly together, but where still subject to cane strikes as if they had been held open for a wide arcing blow. Her buttocks and abdomen were also marked.

"Are you a good pony or a bad pony?" The image before Amy returned to her searching the room.

"Fuck. No, Not again. I'll be a good pony. I'll be a good whatever you want. Please don't do that again." That is what she tried to say. Nothing could have understood it. Not even a very talented computer.

"If you are going to be a good pony start to suck on the penis in your mouth. You have five seconds to begin."

"What, that is ridiculous. I've never given any man head, and I'm not going to start sucking cock now."

The video continued. It got to the part where Amy was finished making the lock picks.

"Bad Pony." The strike was across her stomach and felt much harder than any of the last series.

"Ow. Fuck. Ok." Amy started to suck on the penis in her mouth.

"Good ponies obey immediately." The punishment continued.

Amy was sobbing by the time the entire cycle of pain at finished. She could not go through another, she knew that. Whatever they wanted she would do it.

"Are you a good pony or a bad pony?" Amy immediately started to suck on the thing in her mouth.

"Good ponies do not attempt to show initiative or anticipate commands." There was a swish and a strike across her breasts. This one did get the nipples. Amy screamed in pain. "Are you a good pony or a bad pony?" Amy tensed, but she waited to be directed to suck on the thing in her mouth. When she was directed she worked it has hard as she could. She was ready to do anything to avoid further beatings. She knew by this point that she was in the hands of a computer. She had no option but to follow directions.

She worked the device in her mouth waiting for some type of validation that she was being a Good Pony. Finally she felt liquid squirting into her mouth. She didn't know what it was, it didn't taste like anything. It could just be water. She needed water right now. She swallowed. Whatever it was she was sure she was supposed to swallow and she did.

"Good Pony." Amy was elated to be Good Pony. She had really wanted to be Good Pony, and now she was.

There was soft soothing music again. Then there was light. She could see two ponygirls ahead of her. One was directly in front. The other was just to the left of the one in front. The two in front were connected by shackles and chains from their girth belts to a bar behind them. The bar extended from a single yoke that ran back between them and past Amy. They were trotting down a road. Amy could feel the muscles of her legs stimulating as if she were running. She could feel pressure at her waist as if she were pulling something attached to her. She could feel the pressure on the bottoms of her feet in perfect cadence with the steps of the pony in front of her.

These ponies were also magnificent. Their long legs showed well defined muscles. They were in top shape and well exercised. The road ahead was curving to the left. Amy felt a pull at her left breast as the team moved into the turn. She was a part of a team. If she could have looked to her left she was sure there would be another pony there as well.

She heard the crack of a whip and saw it snake out and mark the buttocks of the pony in front and to the left. She could see red stripes on the buttocks and thighs of the two ponies. She could see marks on the side of the breast of the left pony. She could not see the breasts of the pony in front of her. There was another snap and pop. Pain seared across her buttocks. They were being urged to greater speed. She didn't know what to do. She really didn't have any control over her legs, the sensation of movement seemed to be being induced from outside her. She wanted to run faster. She wanted the team to speed up.

The pace increased. The legs in front of her were moving faster. They were at a gallop. It felt good. The phallic device inside her was moving with the rhythm of the run. She could feel her pleasure bud being stroked with each step the team took. It felt good. It felt so very good. Somehow she was part of a pony team and it felt good.

"Good Pony." Again she was Good Pony. Whatever she was doing it must be right. And it felt good. It felt very good. The run continued for a long time. Amy had no reference of time, but she watched the pastoral scenery turn to light woods. They went up and down small hills. They crossed a bridge over a small stream. She could hear the clopping of the hooves of the ponies. She was sure she could hear the clopping of her own hooves. It felt like her legs were moving. She felt the pull of the weight of whatever was behind them. It increased when they went up hill and decreased when they went down. But most of all she felt the continuous massaging of her pleasure bud and the movement of the device inside her. As they ran she became more and more aroused. It wasn't enough to get her all the way, but it felt so good.

There was a hard pressure back on both of her nipples. She saw the reins that passed her and went to the lead ponies tighten. They were coming up to a large oak tree near a clearing. They had been eased off the path and were brought to a stop.

"Good Pony." The voice was close, in her right ear. She felt a pat on her neck and back. She felt her breasts caressed. She felt her nipples softly touched. She felt something on her lower lips. She was being stroked. Something had found her clitoris. She was being manipulated there. "Such a Good Pony." Amy beamed. She had been a Good Pony. Was the touching a reward?

It felt so good, so very good. She squirmed trying to participate in the activity, but she could not do anything. It didn't matter, she was very aroused now. She moaned, she cried out, and then the orgasm washed over her. Her legs suddenly felt weak. She was afraid she was going to fall down. She had forgotten that she was not really out on the road as a pony. She had forgotten that she was closely confined in a leather sheath. She had forgotten that she was hanging from straps connected to the shoulders of her restraints. Those things were all gone from her mind until everything went black and all sound disappeared.

"NO." She cried out. She had been Good Pony. They shouldn't make it stop. She didn't want that to stop. It had been too wonderful. It had felt too good. Suddenly she was back in the constricting confines of her bondage. She twisted and pulled. Nothing moved. Nothing moved at all. How could she have been out in the countryside running? Her breathing was heavy coming in great gasps. Finally she settled down. How long has this been? How long had she been confined here? Were they done with this? She was completely confused.

Her mind started to drift. She was relaxing. She was trying to sleep.

"Bad Pony!" The voice in her ear made her jerk and spasm.

"NO!" Her scream was swallowed in the gag.

The display in front of her was suddenly bright. She saw herself entering a room. Behind her on a leash was Sarah. It was the location where the sale of Sarah's phony indenture had been done. Sarah was standing nervously at the end of her leash. Amy watched as she, Amy, reached out to take the hand of the woman at the desk. Amy introduced herself using her phony name.

Swish, splat, fire burned across the top of Amy's breasts. Amy's lie was rewarded with a painful swat. Amy did not know how this stupid suit was delivering the strokes to her skin. All she knew was that this was very painful and she wanted it to stop.

The woman and Amy were engaging in small talk. Amy had forgotten they had done that. The woman had asked a few questions about Amy. Amy was feeding back a story.But every line of the story was a complete fabrication. With each lie, exaggeration, or even distortion of the truth a painful swat of whatever was tormenting her fell across some part of her body. Every swat was accompanied with the verbalization "Bad Pony." She had not realized that she had told so many lies. This video was becoming much more painful than the escape video.

When the video finally faded to black and the beating stopped Amy was sure that her entire body was a mass of red welts. She wanted, no, she needed to run her hands over her poor injured flesh and sooth it, but that was not possible. Her arms were tightly held behind her back in the single sleeve. She could touch nothing. She could not even pull up her legs. She had tried, but she was stretched tightly in the bag.

After the punishing video she was given a chance to show she was Good Pony again and she eagerly sucked on the thing in her mouth until she received the liquid. This time it felt soothing.

Even better as soon as she had taken her liquid she was returned to the road as a part of her pony team. Once again there was the signal to move and the crack of the whip. It kissed her buttocks, but she didn't care. This was good. This was what she wanted. The whip now was something different and she wanted it. Once again they ran down the dusty road. The air was warm with a soft breeze. She could feel her legs moving in cadence with the rest of the team. She could feel her hooves hitting the ground with each step. She could feel her body straining forward to carry the weight of the carriage behind somewhere. Her arms were helplessly strapped behind her back, but so were the other ponies in the team. Ponies didn't need arms. It only made sense to keep them tied out of the way.

Was she really here? It was so real. It just had to be real. But then how did they take her back and forth from her confining cocoon to the freedom of pulling a carriage down the road. How could they do that? Had she been drugged?

Amy wondered what her master or mistress looked like. The driver she corrected herself. But he was her master or her mistress. She didn't even know what sex the unknown person was. It didn't really matter. She decided it would be male. She hoped that he was strong, handsome, and firm but kind. He would have to be. There was such a sure firm hand on the reins. That had had to belong to a strong confident wonderful master. The team was running so well. The team was at one with the master. The master must be very pleased with them. The whip was cracking and falling less often. That meant they were doing it right. Amy was happy.

Amy could feel the movement of the phallic invader starting to have its effect once more. She was feeling sexually stimulated and aroused, but somehow that was less significant that her knowledge that the team was doing well and they were pleasing the master. Amy felt alive. She felt happy. She did not want them to stop. She could keep running forever - well, she really wasn't running at all even if her muscles thought she was.

They did run for a very long time. Finally they were guided to a stop near a beautiful small creek under the shade of a big tree. "Good Ponies." This was a male voice. Then everything faded to black.

Amy really didn't want it to end, but she felt completely drained. Her entire body was putty. That had felt so good, so right. Time passed and Amy dosed in and out of awareness.

With everything black before her and enveloped in complete silence Amy tried to evaluate her situation. Her legs felt tired from running. But they had not really been running. She tried to move her legs. They were tightly held together. They were tightly held straight from her body. Her feet were pointed. She could not even wiggle her toes. She tried to move an arm, she could not. She did not think it was possible to be so tightly restrained. She might be one of the best escape artists in the world, but she could not escape this. All escapes were founded in finding and exploiting slack and looseness. There was always something to exploit, but not here. She knew she would remain held in this bag until those in control decided to remove her. And, she would have no control over the stimulation that the bag delivered and when that might happen.

"Bad Pony." It was happening again. Just at the sound of this phrase Amy shuddered. The stripes of her earlier disciplines were painful all over her body. There was no place to deliver more. She could not endure more. Besides, they had already punished her for what she had done here. There was no real basis to further punish her, was there?

The image came to life. Now it was Sarah leading a naked restrained slave up to the door of a facility. The naked slave was Amy. This was Amy as Maria Ramirez. This was the sale at the Perfect Servant. The images were clear. Even with a wide panel gag strapped onto her face Amy was clearly identifiable. When the magistrate saw these pictures Amy was doomed. Amy twisted and pulled at her restraints, but as before, and before that nothing even allowed the slightest movement.

Sarah had led Amy through the door and into a room with several women. Amy tensed as Sarah reached out, shook hands, and introduced herself with the alias. Amy had hoped that Sarah's lie would not get Amy a stroke, but a line of fire across the top of her thighs disabused her of this hope. She could only watch and suffer as every lie, distortion, and omission was rewarded with a painful administration to her helpless flesh. And why shouldn't she be punished? She had been a willing party, no; she had actually been the one who had come up with the scheme. Sarah had been reluctant. Sarah had said it was too dangerous. It was only when Amy cast herself in the role of the slave being sold that Sarah finally agreed. If only she had listened to Sarah.

Amy watched, listened and felt pain with each lie. She saw the deceptive plot woven through to its end with punishment delivered at every moment of untruth. The pain seemed to be more intense than earlier. Was it because it was overlaying already punished and marked flesh? She did not know, all she knew was that the pain was unbearable. She screamed, she twisted her body, she begged and pleaded - nothing stopped the delivery of the pain. Her only option was to bear the unbearable. She hoped she would just pass out, but she did not.

This time when the pain stopped and everything went black there was not a transition to Good Pony. She waited in expectation. Every other time she had been punished she had been allowed the opportunity to show she was Good Pony and then be rewarded with running with the team. NOTHING. "I want to be Good Pony." She shouted. It came out as unintelligible grunts. And there was nobody there to hear it anyway.

Everything just stayed dark. Time crawled.

Sarah awoke. She had fallen asleep sitting against the back of the stall. There was light coming in. It was natural light. It was morning. She tried to move her hand; she tried to move her arm. Her hands were still locked in the gloves. No movement was possible. Her wrists were still clipped to her girth belt. She was restrained and helpless, and it was morning. Amy had not come for her. She had not been rescued. She was still a pony slave held in this awful nightmare.

She felt the restriction of the hood she wore and the narrow vision created by the small slits through which she was forced to watch the world. She started to shake uncontrollably. What if Amy had looked into the stall and not recognized her? If she had been asleep she might not have seen Amy and Amy might have moved on. Did her rescue come and she just missed it?

Sarah pulled at her wrists. She jerked her arms. She kicked at the hobble that held her ankles. She could not do this. It was just too much. She needed to be released. She needed out now.

But she could do nothing. She was held helplessly at the mercy of her controllers. They were intent on turning her into some dumb animal and there was nothing she could do to stop them. At least not now.

Plan A had failed when they had restrained her hands in these gloves and taken her lock picks. Plan B dissipated during the night, although Amy may try again tonight, she had to keep that as an option. There was no Plan C. She needed a plan C. The foundation for Plan C was easy. She needed to escape. She had been marked. She had been registered as a pony, but that registration went back to a false name. If she could get out of here her real identity was still safe. She would have to deal with the tattoos. They were not visible for most clothing, and she was sure there were places she could go to get them removed.

That only left escaping. Security right now was pretty high. This would be the point where they would expect an escape attempt. She needed to make them lower their guard. It was unusual for an indenture to escape. Everything was stacked against them. They were marked with their registration number on their body and that number tied back to their real name. If they escaped they could be easily hunted down. But Sarah had the advantage of the false name. All she had to do was get out of here before they figured out that Susan Smithson did not exist. Or, if there was such a person that she was the wrong person. Sarah thought for a moment of some girl being arrested at her home as a runaway slave. It would be an inconvenience, but she could survive it. Sarah felt a slight twinge of guilt but when she looked down at her chained hands it quickly passed. She needed to get out of here.

She would have to be alert. Very alert. Certainly a chance would come. She would be ready. Plan C was to take advantage of a weakness in her captor's system and then run like hell. Not elegant, but at least it was a plan. She had a new plan.

She heard noises in the hallway. A woman dressed in a khaki shirt and shorts appeared in front of her. The woman released her tether, but quickly fastened a leash to the apparatus between her breasts. Sara already knew how effective this was. Sara knew that she would follow where she was led. She did not need to feel her breasts pulled. That hurt, and in the end she would give in to the pain and follow. Besides, the more she resisted the less likely they would let their guard down and give her the opportunity she needed.

Sara was led down the hallway into a large but narrow room. On one side were a number of small tiled alcoves. Near the far end of each alcove was a wooden half stock with three semi circles. Sara was led up to one of these wooden devices and made to kneel. It was clear that the semi circles were meant for her neck and wrists. That would mean that her hands would have to be released. Was this her chance? She was pushed forward so that her neck was in the large circle. The ring in the front of her collar was pushed into a small slot in the bottom of the semi-circle. Sarah heard a click and could feel that the ring had locked into place. Then the woman released the clip to Sara's right wrists and placed the wrist in one of the smaller semi-circles.Just like her collar the ring to her wrist was pushed into a slot in the bottom of the semi-circle where it locked into place. The process was repeated with the left wrist. There had been no moment when she had even both hands free.

There were only about eighteen inches of space between the front of the half-stock and the wall. The wall was the only thing that Sara could see. Sarah felt something pushed up against her lower abdomen. The woman had pulled up a small hinged frame from a recess in the floor. It was two vertical bars joined at the top by a horizontal bar. The bar that made contact with Sarah's body was only about six inches wide. The two legs of the frame moved forward and back, but with the bar pushed against her lower abdomen Sarah was prevented from lowering her body.

The woman reached between Sarah's legs from behind, lifted her weight off the bar by reaching up inside of her as if her sex were a handle. The bar was then moved back to just above Sarah's pubic area. Sarah felt the shackle that had been connected to her clitoris lifted and pulled, and then to her dismay, realized that the bar at her stomach had been clipped to the shackle in her sex. Sarah whined and tried to move her body back and forth and forward and backwards to free herself from this insult. No side to side motion was available to her. She could roll her body forward and back on top of the frame, but she could not lift her body from the frame without painfully pulling on her clitoris. Sarah stopped struggling.

Sarah felt hands on her ankles. The woman was pulling each ankle backwards by the hobble chain that connected them. Sarah heard the sound of further clips being attached. Each ankle had been clipped to a ring in the floor by the hobble chain at the point it connected into the ankle. Her ankles were now held separated by the length of the hobble chain and sufficiently back that she was no longer able to rock on the bar under her body. Sarah involuntarily jerked at first one and then the other ankle. They were going nowhere. She was held in position for whatever was to come next.

Sarah could not even see what was going on behind her. The stock rose sufficiently around the sides of her head to block her ability to look back. In addition, a small wall extended on each side of the alcove to just past the end of the half-stock. This prevented Sarah from seeing what was going on in the other alcoves.

Sarah felt a slight twinge of pain in first one nipple, on the inside of the little ring that encircled it. Then she felt the same thing on the other. Small hoses extending from the frame had been pushed into receptors in the nipple rings. When that was done two small needles in the ring were pushed into her flesh. Liquid could now pass through the small line and into her nipples.

As Sarah tried to adjust to the feeling there was a slight twinge of pain in her pleasure bud. The woman had fastened a third tube into the hood that covered her clitoris. Something was now slowly seeping into that part of her flesh. Just as they had done with her breasts, now they were injecting something into her nipples and clitoris. It was only a seeping drip, but she could feel it, and she did not want it to happen. What could it be? She needed those lines out. She needed them out now. Sarah rocked her body forward and back. She moved only an inch or two and it had no effect on the lines. She shook her body back and forth. Again, there was very little movement and nothing that hindered the work of the small flexible lines. She tried to shake her breasts back and forth to disengage the lines from her nipples. As hard as she tried to reach violent action it was for naught. The lines would not come out until the woman removed them.

Sarah shook her head and sobbed. What were they doing to her now? Whatever it was she was pretty sure she was not going to like it. What would they do next? It was not long in coming.

Sara felt the finger on her anus. It pushed in and out a couple of times. This caused her to renew her struggles, but she could not see what was going on and her range of motion was so limited there was nothing she could do to prevent it. Then she felt something pushed in. It was not a finger. There was the sound of air and something expanded just behind her sphincter. Again she shook and twisted and tried to expel the invader, but it was not going anywhere. When she finally stopped struggling and tried to relax once more she felt something flowing into her body.

"Oh my God." She thought. They are giving me an enema. The fluid felt warm inside her. She didn't want it there. She felt the woman's hand on her belly testing. More liquid flowed. The hand returned and checked her belly. Now the pressure was starting to hurt. Sara did not know how much they had put into her, but it felt like her belly was going to explode. But the woman did not stop the flow. After what seemed like many minutes the woman seemed satisfied with the distension of Sara's belly and the inflow of liquid stopped. The flow stopped, but the liquid was still there and it hurt. The woman jiggled Sara's belly. Then there was a stripe of fire across Sara's buttocks.

She could not see what had been used, but she had been hit with something. Sara could not believe the pain. She jumped and shook. She needed to get a hand back to her bottom to ease the pain, but she could not, they were held tightly in the stocks. Why had the woman done that? Sara had not done anything wrong. At least, she did not think she had done anything wrong. She tensed waiting for another strike, but it did not come. Everything behind her was quiet. She was not being touched. Nothing was happening, but her insides were so full. She needed it out now. She tried to push it out, but whatever they had inserted into her had been expanded to hold it in place and there was nothing Sara could do to expel the hated invader or the liquid it held within her.

It was probably only minutes, but it seemed like hours. The hands of the woman were on her body again. Sara again heard the sound of air and suddenly the plug in her bottom was removed. The liquid exploded from inside her. Little had ever felt so good. She was so happy to be rid of that awful stuff.

But then she felt the touch on her anus again. "Please. Not again. I'll be good." Sara called out, again trying to turn and look back behind her.

"Ponies don't talk." Came from behind her punctuated with another fiery strike across her helpless bottom.This was followed by another, and then another. Sara swallowed the words she wanted to speak.

The thing was pushed back into her bottom and once more she felt it inflated and then felt the flow of the liquid. Sara cried as it filled her insides and her belly extended with the unwanted liquid.

Finally the woman was happy with the feel of Sara's belly and once again stopped the flow. Again there was the strike of the whip or cane across her bottom. Once again she jumped and shook in response. Sara realized what they wanted. She was supposed to move it around inside her. The woman could have just told her to do that she didn't need to beat her.

Again Sara was left for a period of time before the plug was removed and the liquid allowed to expel from her insides. Sara silently prayed that this was the end of that.

It was. The woman then removed Sara's hood. She was behind Sara. Held in the stock with her head toward the wall nobody could see Sara's face. Sara could not even make eye contact with her groom. Sara was sure this was done on purpose. With her head hooded, she was not even able to use facial expressions to try to communicate with anyone. Now her hood was off, but she was completely unable to make any kind of face to face contact.

Free of the hood and peripheral vision restored, Sara tried to look to see what was going on behind her, but, with her neck held down in the semi-circle her vision was completely blocked by the wooden stock. She felt the groom's hands on her body. She felt water and something slippery like soap. The groom was using a mitt, like the kind one uses to wash a car, to soap her body. Finger pushed up into all the normally hidden parts of her body. Sara squirmed and tried to avoid the touch, but she was helplessly held on her knees with her head and hands locked forward. It was not that she minded the touch of another woman, but this was so degrading and humiliating. She was kneeling helplessly while someone washed her.

The glove with the soap worked all over, lathering her body. She saw the mitt for the first time when the woman reached over the stock and washed her head and face. What was left of her hair was shampooed, but not removed from the wrapping at its base. Her head where it had been shaved was washed. Her entire body was scrubbed.

Then she felt the spray of water. Very cold water starting at her neck and along her back and then around her sides, underneath, and even squirting up into her vagina and her anal cavity. There was pressure behind the hose, just short of being painful. Again, her body was rinsed first, and then her hair and head was cleaned. The woman then returned to a quick final rinse of her body.Sara wanted to protest that she was clean, and ask the woman to stop, but she somehow knew better.

She could hear feel warm air. The woman was using some kind of blow dryer to dry Sara's body and hair. Sarah yipped when it was pointed up between her legs and fingers touched both her anus and her vagina. Sara didn't think this could possibly be any more humiliating. She could hear the sounds of other occupants being cleaned and washed nearby, but she could not see any part of any of them. Even though she knew there were others around she felt so alone and vulnerable. And she felt shame and humiliation. She was kneeling naked on the floor of a slave facility. She was being made into a pony slave.

Sarah felt the hood being pulled back over her head. She did not want that thing back on her. She tried to shake her head, but she had almost no range of movement and in less than two minutes she was again hooded. Her view of the world - actually it was just of the wall in front of her - was once again reduced to the small stripes. A complicated harness resembling the bridle on a horse was fastened around her head. The core focal point was rings at the corners of her mouth. From the rings two bands extended upward meeting above her nose high between the eye slits. From there a single band want up over the top of her head intersecting a band at a ring at the very top of her head through which her pony tail was drawn and then back down to the neck. From the rings at the mouth two bands went back around her head. They intersected with the band that crossed down from the top of her head. These bands continued to the back of the head intersecting the band that crossed from the front of her face. Finally two bands from the rings were brought down, crossed under her chin, then wrapped around to the back of her neck where they fastened to the line that had run over the top of her head.

Sarah could tell that the rings could be used to hold any number of things in her mouth. Right now it was a large ball bit gag, i.e., a ball of about two inches in diameter with a bar through the middle. The entire arrangement was very tight, with multiple buckles that were used to adjust its position and tightness. The bridle was fixed tightly to her hooded head and the ball gag was held firmly in her mouth. Speech was all but impossible.

Sarah expected that she would then be removed from the stock. But that did not immediately happen. With nothing else happening Sarah's attention was drawn to her nipples and her pleasure bud. They were tingling. It felt like something between an itch and a sting. She needed to be able to massage them. But she could not move her hands. She could not move her body. She could do nothing to touch either nipple or between her legs. The sensation was increasing. It must be whatever they injected into her. She was getting horny. She was getting very horny.

Sarah shifted and rolled her hips as best she could in her restraints. She heard moans escaping from her throat and mouth. She wondered if there were any male attendants nearby. Maybe she could attract one to her. Maybe she could get one of them to push himself up inside her. Or, maybe just some fingers, the fingers of one of the female attendants. Fingers would be nice. Something to touch and stroke her. Something to manipulate and massage her now aching pussy.

"My god!" What was wrong with her? She had never been like this before. It was their fault. They had put something in her that was doing this. This was not the way she was. But, why weren't they doing anything about it? Her needs were now so high that she would do anything. What did they want? What did she have to do to get some relief? Somebody had to tell her. Somebody had to let her know what to do. She would do it. Whatever it was she would do it. Just let her have some relief.

But nobody came to explain what she should do. Nobody came to touch her body. Nobody came to give her relief. Instead she just knelt and squirmed and moaned and cried. She tried to scream out, but it was all consumed in the gag. Finally she just wept.

Sarah had lost track of time. She had lost track of her surroundings. She was rocking to the extent of her confinement and moaning lowly. When a hand touched her back she flinched and her mind rushed back to the present. She jerked and pulled at her arms, her neck, and her legs. She twisted her body at a frenzied pace. The hand slowly stroked her shoulder.

"Easy girl. It's ok." The sound of the voice was soothing and the touch felt good. Sarah slowly reduced her struggling and let her body hang within her bonds.

Sarah felt the lines being disconnected from her nipple ring and her clitoris. The tingling and burning was still there. She only hoped it would go away. All she could think about was that she needed to get a hand on her poor nipples and clitoris.

The clips holding her ankles back were released as was clip holding her to the raised bar. It was then lowered away from her and Sarah was actually able to move he legs forward and push her thighs together.

The girth belt was once more fastened around her waist. Sarah felt the clip on her right wrist released, but the hand was immediately pushed down to the side of her girth belt. The process was repeated with her left hand, keeping her completely secured at all times. Only after her hands were properly restrained at her waist did the woman release the clip to Sarah's collar and allow her to raise her body. A leash was once more clipped to the collar surrounding her breasts. This appliance had not been removed during her washing.

Sarah looked up at the woman now holding the end of her leash. A quick tug on the leash signaled that Sarah should stand. She did. The woman then added another short chain. One end clipped to the shackle on Sarah's clitoris. The other end was clipped to a ring in the front middle of Sarah's girth belt. The chain was not heavy, but Sarah could feel it pulling down on her most private and tender spot. The chain was about eighteen inches long so it hung down for about five inches before looping back up to the front of the belt. It clearly communicated to Sarah how easily she could be controlled. To underscore this point the woman grabbed the chain, pulled it forward and used it to turn Sarah first in one direction and then another. Satisfied she let the chain back down.

Using the leash to her breasts the woman guided Sarah into the hallway. Sarah gave no thought to resisting in any way. She tried briefly to reach her nipples or her clitoris with the fingers of her hand. Even though her fingers could not be moved the finger tips were exposed and Sarah was sure that touching herself would help. But it was to no avail.With her wrists held at her sides she could not get to either target.

Sarah did not pay attention to where she was led. When you are pulled at the end of a leash it is easiest to just focus on the back of the person leading. Sarah looked at the khaki shirt of the woman who held her leash and tried to get used to the shuffled step required by her hobbled ankles and staying up on her toes to avoid the painful pressure of the hated foot appliances. Sarah realized that even if the woman dropped the leash and even if Sarah knew where to go she would not be able to run way. They had complete and utter control over her.

The woman led Sarah through a doorway. Sarah recognized the room as the dental room. A shiver ran through her. She didn't want them doing more to her mouth. Her mouth still hurt where they had removed the two molars. Sarah tried to turn back toward the door but the woman had now grasped the short chain leading connected from Sarah's waist to the shackle on her clitoris. A short jerk changed Sarah's resistance into full compliance.

Sarah was backed into the hated chair and quickly strapped in. Her head was pulled back and secured with a strap across her forehead. What were they going to do to her now?

A white smocked woman removed Sarah's gag. But even before she could close her mouth the dental spreader was inserted and opened. Sarah could do nothing to prevent them from invading her mouth.

"No. Please." Sarah tried to say. A quick bite of a crop to her breast, delivered by the woman who had led her into the room and who was now standing nearby, stopped any attempt at speech.

The woman in the smock had a small tray with some silver colored devices on it. She lifted one of devices then fitted it into the hole in Sarah's mouth made by the removal of one of her molars. She moved it around checking for fit. When she was satisfied that it did fit, she coated it with an adhesive gel and pushed it back into place. Sarah could not see well with her head pulled back and her vision restricted by her hood, but it appeared and felt to be a bridge that fit into the space left by her extracted tooth. It fit firmly into the space where the removed tooth had been. This would keep her teeth from shifting, but why remove her tooth in the first place? Feeling with her tongue answered the question. In the place where the tooth had been there was now a metal piece with a slot down the middle. While the woman prepared the bridge for the other side Sarah explored the one just inserted with her tongue. She was not sure what the slot was for, but assumed that it would provide her captors increased ability to control her.

The bridge for the other side was finished in a few minutes. Sarah was happy when she was unstrapped from the chair and led away.

She was again gagged, leashed and led from the room. After another series of corridors they entered another large room. The room was long and narrow. A metal bar ran the length of the long side about six feet back from one wall and six feet off the ground. Because the room was long, at least 30 feet, metal brackets extended down from the ceiling to secure the bar. It looked very sturdy. About every six feet there was a short chain hanging from the bar.

Sarah saw two other hooded women standing under the bar. Each had the short chain attached tightly to the ring in the back of their collar. Their arms were raised and clipped at the wrist to short chains from the bar on either side of their heads. The bar was about four to six inches above their heads. They stood with their legs spread. Their backs were to Sarah. She knew she was going to join them on the bar. She really did not want to, but knew there was no choice.

Before she could think about it anymore she was pushed forward to a position under the bar. She felt the chain pulled through the loop in the back of her collar and tightened. Then, following what was a clear security procedure, her right arm was released from the clip at the side of her belt, raised and clipped on a short chain only two inches from the bar. The procedure was then followed with her left arm.

Sarah felt a tap on the inside of her thigh. She understood the signal and moved her legs out to the full expanse of her hobble. As soon as she had complied she heard and felt something locked over the hobble chain, holding it in place and her legs, separated by the 18 inches it allowed, but not able to move. Once again she was completely helpless.

Sarah did not know what was going to happen to her now. Nobody bothered to explain. And, nobody seemed to be in any great hurry to do whatever they were going to do. It was not like she was going anywhere. All she could do is stand and wait.

After what seemed like a long time, broken only by another pony brought in and secured on the bar, some of the staff appeared. They were joking and talking among themselves. It appeared they may have been on a break. Sarah would love a break. She would love to sit down and have some coffee. Apparently ponies did not get breaks, at least not quite like staff did. This was so unfair. Sarah hated being a pony.

One of the women picked up a clipboard and walked over to Sarah. First she looked her up and down. Then she looked down at Sarah's registration number and Sarah watched as she wrote it onto the sheet on the clipboard.

The woman walked around Sarah. As she did, she reached out and touched Sarah's body. The touch was not erotic. She ran her hands over Sarah's shoulders, her back, her buttocks, flanks and thighs. She squeezed muscles. She even pushed her hand up between Sarah's buttocks and with one finger invaded her anal sphincter. This evoked a squeal from Sarah. As the woman inspected various parts of Sarah's body she stopped and made notes on the clipboard.

Back in front of Sarah she lifted each breast, checking for firmness and weight, even leaned forward to examine the skin. She ran her finger lightly over Sarah's right nipple. Sarah's nipples were still throbbing from whatever had been done to them earlier and she could not suppress a moan from the touch. The woman rolled the nipple between her thumb and forefinger and watched as it hardened. Sarah did not like being inspected in such an intimate fashion, but she did like this. The woman continued to work just the one nipple as she now looked up into Sarah's hidden face. Sarah tried to make eye contact through her hood, but she could tell that it just didn't happen.

Finally, the woman smiled and released the nipple. Sarah's entire body was throbbing. Sarah tried to offer the other nipple for some attention - but she was ignored. The woman ran her hand over Sarah's stomach and down between her legs. She tested her thighs then finally returned to her lower lips. She stroked the inside of each, up one side, down the other. At least this was balanced.

Sarah felt the woman's hand push up inside her. First there were two fingers, then there were three, finally all four. The woman had not needed any lubrication. Sarah was already wet. What was wrong with her? She never reacted this quickly. The hand found the metal sheath surrounding Sarah's clitoris and gave it a light bounce up and down. Almost no sensation transferred through to her pleasure bud. Sarah panicked. She was now so completely horny she had hoped the woman would start to manipulate her clitoris and put her over, but her clitoris was locked away in the little isolation sheath. With the shackle and chain it could be used to hurt her, but the tip was so well isolated that she could not feel the sensation she needed.

Sarah heard something going on to her left. From what Sarah could see there were two women standing in front of what would be the girl immediately to Sarah's left.

"How did this ever get through screening?"

"I don't know. It is totally unsuitable for any class of pony training. It shows here as a volunteer."

"Well, as much as it wants to be a ponygirl that is not going to happen at this facility. Mark it rejected and send the paperwork back to administration. It might be good for a pet, but that is not our concern."

The woman then looked up and down at the girl in front of her. Sarah tried to get a look at the rejected pony, but with her vision hampered by the damn hood, she could not turn far enough to see much. She could tell that the girl was short. She was at least six inches shorter than Sarah. She wondered what the considerations were for rejecting a pony. Would they reject her? Would that be a way out or just a door to something worse?

"Can they send it to pet training if the indenture is for pony?" The women were still talking about the rejected pony.

"Depends. In most cases yes. Once the paperwork is signed and accepted, especially if the fees have been paid it is entirely up to the owner to decide. The indenture might not like it (the woman laughed) but what it likes is no longer relevant. Its duty is to obey, and one way or another, it will." The hard edge to the final words sent a shiver up Sarah's back.

The woman, who had just spoken with the authoritarian, even frightening voice, moved over in front of Sarah. She looked Sarah up and down. Sarah shivered under her gaze. The woman turned to the woman who had been poking and prodding Sarah for what seemed like a very long time.

"Well, what do you think of this one?" The new woman was talking to the one who had been examining Sarah.

"I think it only rates for moderate speed, but there it is solid with a good muscle base. I think it can be developed for endurance." With the woman's hands no longer titillating her Sarah had started to feel deeply ashamed and humiliated by the fashion in which she was being inspected. To be referred to as "it" raised her humiliation to an almost unbearable level.

"I can see that." The hands of the other woman were feeling Sarah's thighs and flanks.

"I think training for taxi service or even intercity coach is a possibility."

Sarah had seen plenty of ponygirls fastened to taxi's and coaches. A taxi was usually pulled by two ponies. A coach had four or even six. Endurance was right. They had to cover sometimes long distances over long shifts. Sarah didn't think she liked the idea of being a taxi pony. She remembered only a month before that she and Amy had taken a taxi. She remembered as they climbed into the taxi she was worried because the team looked very tired, worn out ever. She had almost told Amy that they should just walk, but it was almost two miles to the club and they were in high heels.

Once she and Amy were in the taxi the crack of the driver's whip had started the team of ponygirls down the road. Sarah was almost immediately annoyed because the pace was a mere walk. They were never going to get there at that pace. She had said something to Amy. She did not now remember what it was, but the driver must have heard her. There was a sharp crack of the whip onto the buttocks of first one pony, then the other. A clear red line appeared on the exposed flesh of both ponies and they whinnied loudly. The ponies picked up the pace, but the driver was not satisfied and delivered two more strikes each before the ponies reached a proper speed. They were now moving at a good clip and Sarah was impressed.

The ponies may have been very tired, but a taste of the whip had found the extra strength they needed to perform. They kept the pace for the full seventeen minutes it took to reach the club, only having to be encouraged with the bite of the whip a couple of additional times.

Sarah had felt no empathy, identity, or even concern for the ponies. They, after all were only doing what they were trained to do. Rather, she was impressed by the skill of the driver. She gave him a very good tip. She thought about that event with horror. She could soon be one of those ponygirls being whipped to perform. She needed to get out of here. She needed to get out of here now. She could not do this for eight years. She could not do this for eight days. But Sarah knew that without help escape was impossible. How could she and Amy have been so stupid? They should have investigated the security of this place before making her subject to it. Amy had to come for her tonight. She just had to. Sarah could not take this anymore.

"It will need to be muted." It was the new woman talking.

"I have checked that on the assessment. They are doing that at the ranch now. They have a new procedure that removes all speech but still leaves neighs and whinnies."

"I heard that. I heard that the ponies have even developed their own simple language."

"Nothing wrong with that I suppose."

"Good hips. She could drop a foal easily.Make sure to mark it for possible breeding." Sarah gasped at the suggestion.

"And potential as a milker." The new woman's hand was now squeezing Sarah's breasts. She snorted and tried to twist it out of her grasp - without success. "Good spirit. I would love to train this one."

The new woman took the clipboard from the first woman and seemed to go over what was written there. She would look at the clipboard and then look at Sarah. She made a few marks on the paper. Finally she signed the bottom and then hung the clipboard on a clip on the bar to which Sarah's neck and wrists were fastened.

"Let's get some coffee." The two women walked away.

Sarah tried to turn to look at the clipboard. It was between her head and her right arm, but it was behind her and facing toward her rear. Even turning as far as she could she could barely see it. There was no way for her to read anything that had been written there. They had no intention of sharing. She was just a pony and nobody cared what she thought. She did not need to even know what they were planning for her. They had tattooed a registration number on her so they could always find her. They were going to mute her. She would just have to do what she was told. NO. She needed to get out of here. They may have marked her, but they did not know who she really was. She could deal with the tattoo after she escaped. But first she needed to escape. Somehow she needed to get out of here.

AMY! That was really her only hope. Amy would come for her. Amy would not desert her. There was some good reason why Amy could not get here last night. Tonight. Tonight would be it. Amy would come for her. Amy would rescue her. She would not have to go to some ranch. She would not have to be muted. She would not have to be trained to pull a taxi subjected to the whip of her driver. That would not happen to her because Amy would rescue her.

In Sarah's mind she saw herself harnessed to a taxi waiting patiently by the curb. Her arms were restrained behind her and she was tightly fastened to the taxi next to another pony. She was bridled with a cruel bit holding her tongue down. She had been trained as a ponygirl and now she was on the street fulfilling her task. She looked up through the slits of her hood and saw a familiar figure walking up the sidewalk. It was Amy. She was talking to another girl. One who looked a lot like Sarah but was, of course, not Sarah.

"Let's take a taxi to the club." It was the other woman talking. Sarah had tried to turn toward Amy, but the harness did not allow that. She tried to get Amy's attention, tried to tell her that she was right here, but she had been muted and only whinnies came out of her mouth.

"See, the pony is anxious to take us there." The woman had even reached out and stroked Sarah's breast.

"Ok. That should be fun." Sarah could not see Amy or the girl anymore, but she could feel the shift of weight on her harness as they climbed into the taxi.

Sarah knew what was coming next. There was the strike of the whip on her flank to tell her to start to pull the taxi. There was the strike of the whip to tell her to increase speed. There were the ongoing strikes of the whip to keep her at a full trot even though it had been a long day and she was tired. And she did trot. She did keep speed. With the encouragement of the whip on her bottom and back there was nothing else she could do. She did as trained and delivered Amy and the woman to their location.

Sarah's mind snapped back to the present. She was breathing heavily, starting to hyperventilate. She was so frightened, but she needed to get her fears under control. Stay calm she said to herself. Amy will come, she will be rescued.

Sarah was not sure how long it had been. Time lost its meaning in this horrible place. It could have been hours - it was probably just minutes. Sarah felt her right arm released from the bar above her head. It was promptly refastened to her belt. The process was repeated with the other arm. Only then did they release the bracket holding her at the ends of her hobble chain. A leash was clipped into the ring between her breasts and only then, when she was safely leashed, was the chain from her collar to the bar released. Even if she had had it in her mind to try to run (as if she could hobbled and with her feet in the painful restraints) she could not.

One of the other women had come over. She had a quizzical look on her face as if something out of the ordinary was happening.

"The magistrate is here and needs to see this one. There is some problem with her paperwork." The woman who was now holding the leash volunteered.

"Ok, we are moving the rest to the loading dock. There is a shipment going out in about an hour. Do you think she will make it?"

"Don't know. I have no intention of telling the magistrate how to do his job. If they are done in time I will bring her right to the dock."

"Great. I will prepare the manifest with a blank for now."

The woman holding the leash gave it a tug, and as Sarah was now getting used to, she followed behind. A problem with her paperwork? What was happening? Was this a way out for her? Her spirits rose. She doubted these people would just let her go. She had been approved for pony training. They wanted to make her a damn taxi pony. Even worse, they were about to be shipped away someplace. How would Amy find her? They would be taking her to a training farm. She didn't know where that would be, but she was sure it was in the country someplace. It could not be easy to escape from such a place. No, she wasn't ever going to a training farm. Her paperwork was screwed up and they were going to have to release her.

After leading Sarah down several hallways the woman stopped outside a door and knocked. The door was opened from the inside and Sarah was led in. There was a desk, nothing special, just an ordinary office desk sitting toward one end of the room. The room was not large or special in any way. Behind the desk sat a portly man, mid to late 50's, with thinning gray hair. He did not look up to acknowledge Sarah but continued to study whatever was on the desk in front of him.

There were chairs against the back wall but only an open space in front of the desk. Sarah recognized the woman who had accepted her indenture contract from Amy sitting at the back wall.

Sarah was taken to a spot three feet in front of the desk and to the right side. The woman holding the leash pointed to a spot on the floor and tapped Sarah behind the knees with her crop. Sarah recognized it as a signal to kneel. She did as directed. She did not like the indignity of having to kneel in front of this man, but she was not going to do anything to upset him. He could be her deliverance.

The woman tapped the insides of Sarah's thighs making her spread her thighs. Sarah was sitting on her legs with her knees now wide apart. As Sarah watched in horror the woman disconnected the clip at Sarah's waist that held the chain connected to her clitoris. Sarah was afraid she was going jerk on the line, but instead the woman reached down between Sarah's knees and clipped the chain to a small ring in the floor. Sarah immediately wished she had just jerked on the line. Sarah was now tethered to the floor by her clitoris. This was the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to her. Not only was it completely controlling it clearly signaled her status. Even the slightest movement vibrated up to her now encapsulated pleasure bud. Kneeling on the floor leashed by a short to her most intimate body part - how could this man take her seriously? How could he consider her even a person?

The woman unbuckled and removed Sarah's gag. Sarah welcomed the relief to her mouth and stretched her jaw. She looked back up at the man sitting behind the desk in front of her. He was still looking down at the file before him. Sarah started to say something and then thought better of it. She was sitting back on her legs but she straightened her upper body as best she could so she could better see the man over the top of the desk.

Finally after what seemed a lifetime the man looked up. "So, it seems we have a problem with this paperwork." It was not a question. He stared at Sarah. Even hidden behind the hood she felt like she had made eye contact with him.

Sarah again opened her mouth. Then she closed it and waited again.

"What is your pre-indenture name?" His gaze was burning through the hood.

"Susan Smithson." His face wrinkled. "Sir." She added.

"Well, we both know that is not true, don't we?" He tilted his head slightly to one side. "The name and personal identification number have been checked. You are not, and could not be Susan Smithson. Which brings me back to the question, who are you?"

"Since I am not Susan Smithson the indenture is no good. You need to tell them to let me go." Sarah tugged at her wrists.

"Nice try." The man leaned back and smiled. "The correct name and identification will be substituted into the indenture. I have examined it, and it is good and binding." If that had been meant as a pun Sarah did not appreciate it.

For Sarah, kneeling on the floor, looking up across the top of the desk at this man, made it very difficult to resist his questioning. Panic surged through Sarah. Her only hope was the fact they did not know her real identity. She did not answer. She slowly concentrated on her breathing.

"I see." The man's smile hardened. "This will avail you not." He started writing on something in front of him. "You will be identified for indenture under Jane Doe 2368. The effect of that is that at the end of your indenture period you will not be released. You will continue to be held subject to its terms until your real pre-indenture identity can be determined and it is determined if it is clear of other holds. If you think you are escaping from whatever else you may be accountable for don't kid yourself. You will not escape justice."

Sarah turned her head away from the man. She tried to summon as much strength and defiance as a naked hooded girl, chained from her pleasure bud to the floor, possible could. Unfortunately, it was not very much.

The man looked over to the woman. "Please bit her. I am not interested in anything she may try to vocalize."

The woman held something in front of Sarah's mouth. "Open." She commanded.

Sarah clamped her jaw tightly and tried to lower her chin. The collar prevented this last action. Sarah felt pain in her nostrils. The woman had inserted fingers into Sarah's nose and was pulling up on her head. Sarah groaned and gasped as her head was pulled painfully back using her nose as leverage. In the process she must have opened her mouth, at least opened it enough to push the metal bit into it.

The bit was pushed back to where Sarah's new dental appliances had been installed and then pushed into the slots where it clicked into place. Sarah immediately hated this thing. The corners of her mouth were pushed back - not as far as the missing teeth because inside her mouth, on the outside of her teeth metal bars ran forward for about an inch, before turning at ninety degrees, and extending from her mouth clicking into the rings in the bridle at the corners of her mouth. They each had an additional ring that extended on each side of her hooded face.

Connected to the inside was a flat spoon that extended forward on top of Sarah's tongue. As the device was pushed into her mouth she had tried to push at it with her tongue, instead of gaining any relief, the stud installed in her tongue slipped into a slot in the spoon. Sarah could move her tongue forward and back (a little) but could not move it to either side. Nor could she lift it up as it was held down by the spoon.

Even though the bit was fully secured in her mouth by the dental appliance, the woman fastened short clips from her bridle to the rings on the bars exiting the corners of her mouth. It was clear that this horrible thing was not coming out. Sarah shook her head back and forth and moaned in frustration. Even the moan did not sound human.

The man sitting behind the desk broke into a big smile. At least someone was enjoying themselves. "I find that the indenture is valid in spite of the efforts to deceive by this pony. The indenture is confirmed for eight years." He stopped and looked up at Sarah smiling again. It was such a smug smile. She wished she could smack him. She wanted to scream in frustration. "I forfeit the fee paid. It will be paid to the state." He looked over at the woman. "Upon payment of the fee the indenture coded for Jane Doe 2368 will be confirmed."

"I will arrange for the wire to be transferred to the state indenture account this afternoon."

"Very good. I am additionally finding that given the nature of this animal special training may be required and is authorized. The indenture will be increased by one year for every month of special training. Six months of special training is authorized for the first year and then one month for every two years thereafter. Maximum term of indenture is 20 years."

Sarah gasped. Eight years was unthinkable. How did it just become 20 years? That was her whole life. Well maybe not her whole life, but 20 years as a pony might as well be her whole life. "NO!" She tried to shriek. It didn't even sound like no, just a long wail, but the meaning was clear. Sarah could only think of one thing. Run, run away from this place. She jumped up trying to get to her feet. The pain between her legs was blinding. Her hands tried to go to her injured flesh, but they could not. Having reached the apex of her tether and having no leverage Sarah crashed to her side swinging down on an arc defined by the short chain that held her most intimate, very sensitive, flesh connected to the floor.

Sarah lay on the floor sobbing, but nobody paid any attention. Nobody had even reacted to her when she tried to jump up. Did they expect it or did they just know that there was nothing she could do? She was completely helpless. They had her and there was nothing she could do about it.

The bag was moving. Amy's toes touched the floor and then she was stretched out on her back. The motion had shocked her out of what must have finally been sleep. How long had she been held in this awful thing? Was she now to be released? Was it finally time to see the Magistrate? She could only hope. She could not endure any more of this awful thing. The time a good pony had been wonderful, but it was interspersed with bad pony and severe punishment. It had gone on and on, it never stopped and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She just kept screaming "I will be good pony. Please. I am a good pony." But nobody listened. Nobody came to ease her pain.

The bag was loosened. The hood was removed. The natural light of the room and the return of sound caused Amy to shake her head and blink her eyes.

"It is time for the Magistrate to hear your case." The woman who seemed to be in control was looking down at Amy as her assistants worked on opening up the restraining bag.

Amy was lying on her back on the floor. She could see that she was laid out in front of a small alcove in the wall. She could see other similar alcoves. Two of them had black bags hanging in them. The slight movements of the bags revealed that they were occupied. The bags were held so that the feet were about 18 inches above the floor. A chain from the bottom of the bag connected them to a heavy spring in a ring in the floor. The sides of the alcove were about 24 inches from the bag. No amount of twisting or struggling would cause an occupied bag to make contact. On the wall by the side of each of the two hanging bags were digital displays. One read 13:25. The other read 35:46. Next to the alcove where Amy had clearly been hanging was a similar display. It read 62:37. Amy frowned and looked back at the first display. It now read 13:24.

"I hope you have enjoyed your introduction to the conditioning bag. The required minimum time is 72 hours. As you can see, you still have quite a ways to go, but we are required to present you before the magistrate so balance of your time will have to wait . . . for now."

"No please. Don't put me back in there." Amy could not imagine spending 72 hours in that device. She had been held there for less than 10 hours and she was so happy to be out. She could not endure 72 hours. She could not go back in the bag for 62 hours more. Would they even give her credit for the time she had been in there, or would they start it all over? She would lose her mind. "I will be good. I promise I will be good."

"Silence slave. Show us that you are a good pony." A snap of the crop in the woman's hand across the now exposed top of Amy's breast caught her attention. The use of the term "good pony" jolted her. If there was anything she had learned in the last 10 hours it was that she wanted to be "good pony." She had to be "good pony."

"We will see how much you have learned in your short exposure." The threat was clear. The woman nodded to one of the other women and a panel gag was strapped to Amy's face; it had a large leather wedge that slipped into her mouth. Amy dutifully opened her mouth and received the insert when it was held in front of her. She knew that "good pony" would be compliant, she needed to be "good pony" if she hoped to avoid a return to the bag.

Although Amy had been removed from the bag, her arms were left tightly restrained in the single sleeve behind her back. Cuffs with a short hobble were fastened to her ankles and a collar was fastened around her neck. A leash was connected to the front of the collar.

As she was led away Amy managed a quick look back at the two other bags and the slight twitching movements rippling over the surface. It was all that an occupant could manage. Amy shivered and followed her lead taking quick steps to keep up and not be tripped by the short hobble chain.

Amy was led into a room. Not large. Not stately or magnificent in any way, just an ordinary looking room. There was a very ordinary looking desk at one end and a quite ordinary looking man sitting behind the desk. But, there was a power to this man. It was someone who needed to be pleased. It was very important that she not disappoint him.

There was a female form lying on the floor in front of, but to the right of, the desk. Amy did not study the form. Its features were completely masked by a hood. After a quick glance Amy turned her attention back to the man behind the desk.

The woman who had led her into the room pointed to the floor in front of the desk and tapped the back of Amy's knees with her crop. The message was clear. Amy knelt facing the desk.

As soon as Amy was on her knees the woman connected a short chain to the ring at the end of Amy's armbinder and snapped it to a ring in the floor. Amy shivered. "Good pony" didn't need to be restrained. "Good pony would do what they asked. She would stay where she was put. Then she relaxed a little. If they wanted to tether her, that was ok too. She would show that she accepted what they asked of her. She was "good pony." Oh god. She thought to herself. Let them see that she was "good pony." The woman removed the gag.

Amy knelt stiff and straight. She thought good posture might be important.

The head of the man rose as he looked Amy in the face. "You were indentured as Maria Ramirez for a five year term."

Was it a question or a statement? Amy was not sure what she should do. She elected question. "Yes sir." It must have been the right choice, the head nodded.

"But without serving any portion of your indenture you escaped."

Again, it was that level accusatory tone without the inflection of a question. "Yes sir." That had worked before, she stayed with it. Again the head nodded.

"But you are not really Maria Ramirez." The eyes were staring straight into her. They felt like lasers burning into her flesh.

"No sir." Amy gulped they didn't have her real identity. She wanted to hide it from them, but good pony had to answer. She really didn't have a choice.

"What is your real name?" This time it was clearly a question.

"Amy Broadstrike." The answer had just come. It was like she had no way to prevent herself from revealing it. The form on the ground next to her was moving. There was a grunt and a groan. Amy looked over as best she could in the high collar. As she did she recognized the body. It was Sarah.

Sarah for her part had noticed the arrival of the other woman, but she had sunk so deeply into her misery that she had not even looked at the new arrival until she heard it. Somehow she had even missed the first part of the conversation, but she had not missed the name. How had this happened? Amy couldn't be here. Amy was outside someplace waiting for the opportunity to rescue Sarah.

Sarah looked at the creature kneeling before the desk. She looked at the arms pulled back tightly in the single sleeve armbinder. She looked at the tether from the end of the armbinder connected to the floor. At least Amy did not appear to have been pierced. She was not suffering the indignity of being chained by her pleasure bud to the floor. Sarah looked at the linked cuffs on Amy's ankles and the high collar fastened around her neck with the leash line running back to where the woman now sat behind Amy.

They had Amy. How had they captured her? And what had they done to her? Amy had just given up her name. She had just given up her real name. She had just thrown away her only chance to avoid capture when she escaped. And, she had done it without even being subjected to the Jane Doe pressure. Sarah wanted to yell at her. Sarah wanted to tell her to "shut the fuck up." But Sarah could not. The awful bit held her tongue immobile on the bottom of her mouth. Sarah hung her head and started to cry.

The magistrate had taken a few minutes on a computer after receiving Amy's real name. "And so you are." He wrote some notes into his file.

"The indenture in the name of Maria Ramirez is altered to Amy Broadstrike. I find it to be a valid indenture, fully funded. I have inspected the chain of title including the transfer to the Perfect Farm and all is in order. There is a $10,000 fee for the transfer and name correction. Is the owner willing to pay the fee?" The magistrate looked at the woman.

"We are." She said. "It can be transferred from our reserve account."

"Very good." The man said. "In that there was an escape that substantially interfered with the property rights of the owner of the indenture and given the cost of correcting the ownership records I am adding three years to the indenture. It is now an eight year indenture."

Amy could not believe she was feeling torn over this statement. She should feel devastated at the announcement of her slavery, but the man seemed to be happy. She had pleased him. She was showing that she was good pony. What the fuck. Wait a minute. She didn't want to make these people happy. She didn't want to be their fucking pony. She wanted to get the fuck out of here. She twisted and pulled at her arms. "No. Please." She said.

The man nodded to the woman. She stepped forward and held the gag in front of Amy's mouth. A part of Amy wanted to shut her mouth tight and turn away, but something deep inside of her opened her mouth. By the time she was aware of what she had done and tried to correct the error it was too late. The leather wedge had been shoved deep into her mouth and the straps were being fastened around her head.

"As I was saying." The man began speaking again. "As with the other case I am invoking the special training clause. This pony's indenture will be increased by one year for every month of special training. Up to six years is allowed in the first year and then one year every other year thereafter. I will also put a hard limit of 20 years on the indenture." The man wrote onto the file in front of him. He took a stamp and stamped a number of papers. When he had finished that he lifted two sets of paper and held them out for the woman. She stood, walked over and retrieved them.

"You may remove your property now." He said to the woman. Then he looked at the two ponies on the floor in front of him. "As humans you were deceitful conniving cheats. It is proper that you be bound, disciplined, and taught to be a contribution to society. I am sure that if and when your time as a pony comes to an end you will be well mannered disciplined creatures who will be prepared to find a proper place in a society they tried too hard to disrupt. As you feel the whip on your flesh during training, think about how selfish you two have been and just how much you have to atone for."

Neither pony said anything. Of course, they couldn't one was bitted, the other gagged. When the clips connecting them to the floor were removed, and Sarah leashed to her collar, the new ponies were signaled to rise and then meekly followed their new handlers out of the room. The handlers did not say anything to them. Nobody explained to ponies what was going to happen. It was neither helpful nor productive. It was the pony's job to obey. And that is what these two would now do.

The End
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