Named and Shamed: Pony girl training begins... (Pony Tales Book 4)

by C. P. Mandara

  A loud round of raucous whinnies greeted his comment and it was clear that the herd were quite happy with this arrangement. He raised his voice once more and said, 'If she fails, ponies, make sure her second night is hell on earth within the confines of Albrecht Stables. Everyone catch my drift?' Lots of stomping, some nods and plenty of excited neighs and whinnies greeted that comment.

  Mark turned his attention back to Jenny and lowered his voice. 'If you think I can be a bastard, you have no idea what an afternoon of harvesting nettles will do to fifty or so pony girls. They will lose their sense of humour quite rapidly, and believe me when I say that nothing Lyle can think up will touch it. Oh, and one more thing. If I have to join you in that field of stingers naked, I will personally see to it that your life is made hell on earth. If you think you have it bad right now, I can pretty accurately say that I can multiply your misery level figure by a thousand.

  Jenny was a seething, bubbling, roiling ball of emotions. Several flickered over her corneas all at once: fear, loathing, anger, bitterness, desire and helplessness. Trying to look anywhere but at him, she had the uncanny feeling that not only did he spot and analyse each sentiment that crossed her features, but he understood them too. She was struggling with the simple effort of breathing, just being in close proximity to the damn man. Once again her throat grasped for breath, but this time it wasn't due to exercise or fatigue. Letting out a raspy groan of discontent, she wondered if she could actually go through this again with the eyes of all these people upon her.

  Mark's eyes veered over to Daniel, who was now hobbling towards them. He snapped, 'When was the last time you gave your horse a drink?'

  'Ahhh,' Daniel immediately ran over and scrabbled about in his satchel for the water bottle that resided there. Grabbing it and popping the top, he handed it over to Mark and simply said, 'It won't happen again, Sir.'

  'You're damn right it won't, because if it does I'll see you tacked up and joining the ranks of the pony boys over there. We clear?' Mark had already tipped the bottle and was gently pouring the water into Jenny's mouth. She sucked it down greedily. Dribbling away constantly for the last couple of hours had made her dehydrated.

  As the cool water splashed into the back of her throat she realised that eating and drinking were another thing she would have no control over for the duration of her stay. Thinking about each little piece of control her captors had forcibly taken away from her made her lightheaded. She couldn't use her hands, she couldn't talk, she moved at the whim of another via a leash, she could barely breathe with the corset restricting her lungs, and her body was naked and viable for all to use - or torment, as the case might be. To be honest there was very little she would have control over. It was a scary thought and she pushed it from her mind. It would be better to concentrate on Sir Lyle and the ridiculous games until rescue arrived. Where was her father? It had to be nearing midday by now. She could not spend another night here. Not if she hoped to keep her sanity intact.

  When Mark spotted Lyle stomping back to the paddock with a handheld battery in tow, he knew it was going to be a very long three minutes of Petal's life. Sir Lyle, it appeared, was taking no chances on winning. If Mark was not much mistaken he would have one, if not two electro-stim bullets or dildos in his pocket. Stupidly, he hadn't even considered that Lyle might choose that option, as in a fair competition its use was normally outlawed. It was his own fault; give the man an inch and he'd make sure he took the whole nine yards. Great. For the first time in a very long time he was going to be made to sweat. If Redcliff's daughter could manage three minutes of dual e-stim dildos accompanied by the suspected Hitachi wand, she'd be the first pony in the history of Albrecht to have accomplished the feat. This called for desperate measures. Taking his thumb and forefinger he brutally pinched Jenny's clit between his fingernails. It was a cruel pain that they imparted, but he hoped it would be enough to delay a body that was already on the cusp of orgasm. The result was a gurgle of shock and a pained rocking of hips.

  'Stop that,' ordered Mark. 'Lyle's now coming and you've got to prepare yourself. Three minutes of hell versus a night of fifty ponies making you cream over and over. It's your decision, but you should know this: you fail and I'll be taking you down to the dungeon to sample each and every one of its delights, and I mean every single one of them. A spell in the pit, tied up in a latex straightjacket, unable to see or hear a thing, might make me feel better after this. Then again, it might not. Still, there's always the rack.'

  When Jenny's pupils had dilated to the point that all he could see was black, he knew he'd nailed it. Fear had caused an adrenaline spike to soar through her body and the widening of the pupil was just the body's way of allowing it to cope with this new threat. Those eyes would now be letting in more light to the back of the retina in the hopes of escaping her rapidly deteriorating predicament. Good luck with that, thought Mark. Spinning her around to receive the determined-looking Lyle, he whispered in her ear the words, 'You can do this.' He hoped they would be enough.

  When Lyle came to stand before Jenny, all she saw was a small machine featuring several hanging wires and a bunch of fragile green stems that he had crushed between his gloved fingers. She did not need to study them to know the plant's genre. The juice from the stems was seeping out and the shiny appearance of the leather made her stomach contract. Racing painfully hard within her chest, her heart beat double time. Whichever way she looked there was a red danger sign blaring out its evil warning and there was little she could do to avoid them.

  'Your time starts now.' Mark made a show of studying his Rolex. It was a little abrupt to start a challenge in such a way, but he didn't want to give the old goat any more of an advantage than absolutely necessary.

  'That's rather unsporting of you. Afraid you'll lose, Matthews?' Sir Lyle's mouth spread into an evil rictus grin and his teeth stood out in all of their yellowed glory.

  'No, I'm afraid you'll win and I'm not the one with the unsporting e-stim attachments. If I'd realised you were that desperate to see me naked I'd have invited you back to mine years ago, darling.' Mark slurred the word darling for Lyle's benefit, and batted his eyelashes provocatively. Every second counted in this game and they were twenty seconds down already.

  Lyle must have read his thoughts because he ignored the comment and returned his attention to Petal. 'On your knees, slave,' he commanded, and without waiting for her to comply, his leather-booted foot struck out and took her feet from under her. Tumbling towards the soft earth, Jenny was too shocked to offer even a muffled groan of protest, and as her bound arms slammed into her back her head whipped forward painfully. Her chin ended up nestled in the wet earth and her nose found several blades of grass tickling it.

  'Open those legs, slut.' Lyle trailed a single nettle leaf down Jenny's back and heard her gasp. As he trailed the same nettle back up towards her neck, two legs smartly opened as wide as their joints would allow. Smacking her red backside fiercely with the nettles, in order to get his message across, Lyle began unbuttoning the webbing that held her two dildos firmly in place. The first dildo in her pussy popped out with little effort, and he smiled at the gleaming wetness upon it. 'Oh, this is going to be too easy,' he whispered to himself. There was a little more effort required in divesting Petal of her horsetail, due to the untrained nature of her sphincter muscles, but it was pulled free from her body with a few good twists. Realising he had a limited amount of time left, Lyle made short work of inserting a large e-stim bullet into her pussy and a smaller torpedo-shaped plug in her ass. To save time, both had generous amounts of lubrication applied to them, but for one hole it was overegging the pudding somewhat. Connecting them up to various wires he wasted little time in introducing a stream of pleasurably arousing electric current directly within the deepest cavities of her body.

  When the current began to hum inside her, Jenny immediately let out a groan through her bit. It felt wonderful and countered the throb of the nettle stings quite nicely. Scrap that, it fel
t heavenly and she couldn't stop herself sinking into the soft, floating sensation of acute bliss. The feeling was short-lived. When Sir Lyle pulled another 'magic wand' from his pocket and let the device hum to life, she ground her face into the mud with despair. Attaching the vibrator to her clit he used her very own webbing to secure it tightly in place and watched as she chewed frantically upon the rubber in her mouth. When he turned the machine up to full throttle Jenny nearly blasted into orbit then and there. She didn't have a hope in Hades chance of enduring this.

  Mark looked at Lyle's makeshift 'forced orgasm belt' with dismay. A pinch to the clit or no, he was going to be romping around a field naked very shortly. It had been a long time since he had played the role of sub and he didn't relish the thought of renewing the acquaintance. He had promised himself that those days were over. There was little else he could do, except pray for a miracle. Watching her face as she battled to control her body, the anguish was a delight to see. Against all odds the girl was trying to please him.

  'Do you want to fight this?' The words were a soft whisper in her ear. Jenny gave a frenzied nod, knowing that the wrath of a stable full of pony girls was not something she wanted to court this evening. She was trying not to think about spending any more time with Mark, dungeon or no. Too much time in his presence and she'd burst a blood vessel. Even now her arousal level had increased tenfold due to his presence before her. If he'd been absent from the equation she might have stood a chance, but with him so close there was an insidious flow of volcanic lava which heated every pore of her body. It was as if he had woken something previously dormant inside her, and now the beast was awake she was begging to be released in order to unfurl her shapely talons. It needed what everyone was so anxious to deny it - intense pleasure.

  Mark mumbled something about two minutes, but Jenny had no comprehension of the fact. All of her will was focused on surviving this monstrous challenge. It was enough to be made to endure the torment once, but twice was going to be the death of her.

  Hearing Jenny's teeth squeak as they ground across the rubber bit, Mark wondered what he could do to get her through the next two minutes. Kneeling down in front of her face, he sunk a fingernail into the base of her earlobe and pulled her head up from the mud. 'Look at me.' Jenny's eyes looked everywhere but at him. 'I said look at me.' The words were pure poison and he spat them out. She had no choice but to look at the source of such malevolence and his dark brown eyes shot fire from their depths. Letting his fingernail bite harder he whispered, 'You don't get to choose any more. I own your body. I tell it what to do and when to do it. If I want you to come I'll say "come", and your body will rush to obey my bidding. You'll be trained to within an inch of your miserable life to do exactly as I say. I can teach you to orgasm every time my cock touches the back of your throat or every time I decide to take that deliciously sexy ass of yours.' Jenny's head swished back and forth in horror at what he was saying. 'There's no point you shaking your head at me. You need only ask your stabled friends and they will confirm every last word I've just said.' The pressure at her earlobe increased and twin tears streaked down from her eyes. Her hips began thrusting in earnest, even though she tried desperately to stop them.

  'You're going to be my precious little pet and in the end, your body will respond instantly to any command I give it. I have trained girls to go into instantaneous orgasm upon my entrance to a room. You will be one of them. I will lavish as much of my care, attention and generosity that I am able to bestow upon you and in return, you will reward me with your obedience. You, my dear, will be the perfect picture of submission. There will be nothing left in that pretty little head of yours except the desire to please me. You will hang on my every word and your body will pine for mine in its absence. You will be lost without me.' Another desperate shake of her head and an angry, strangled scream met that comment. He merely smiled. 'I've done it before, Petal, and I can easily do it again. All it takes is time. I'm not someone you can fight and I always get my way in the end. You'll be ruined for every other man in the universe when I've finished with you, so I'd give in gracefully if I were you.' Another gurgled scream spewed forth from her lips.

  Mark suddenly released the pressure on her earlobe, which had gone purple under the tight nip of his nails. He turned to face Lyle, whose bleached white face was looking down upon them both with a look of horror. Looking pointedly at his watch he said sweetly, 'Your time's up, Ranulph,' before nudging Jenny in the stomach with his tan leather Italian loafer and murmuring the single word, 'Come.'

  In a maddened fury she did exactly that, unable to stop the firestorm coursing through her over-stimulated body. Tumbling over and rolling back and forth upon the wet grass beneath her, she screamed so loudly she nearly deafened herself before cursing him every foul word under the sun in seven different languages. That was how long it took for the intensity of her climax to subside.

  Sir Lyle coughed delicately. He didn't know how Matthews had managed it, but the new pony had just set a world record within the confines of Albrecht. His stomach began churning and bile forced its way up the back of his throat. Cursing his foolish stupidity in announcing his forfeit before Matthews had announced his, he began to sweat. Not knowing the depravities of your enemy's mind was worse than being made aware of what you were going to face upfront. Alas, he had been so sure of victory, failure hadn't even crossed his mind.

  'I've got a devilishly nasty forfeit for you, old boy,' Mark said, with an amused glint in his eye. He watched as Lyle squirmed uncomfortably. The old coot was wringing his hands behind his back and Mark couldn't help but revel in his victory. He let Lyle stew for a little longer than was absolutely necessary. It wouldn't do him any harm. Clearing his throat for the theatrical benefit it would provide, he raised his voice and directed his gaze to the Lord. 'Your forfeit, Sir Ranulph, is to vacate the premises of Albrecht this instant. That way I have each and every one of these sex-starved ponies to see to my every need.'

  Lyle just goggled at him, finding it hard to believe that he had managed to get off so lightly. 'Of course,' Mark paused, 'if you want to hang around, I've heard that we have a lot of nettles which need to be picked tout de suite.'

  Lyle did not need to be told twice. He turned on his boot heel, barely managing to contain his look of rage at being summarily dismissed, before marching off into the distance.

  All the ponies sighed in relief bar Jenny who, now having stopped rocking in the throes of orgasm, was incensed from having been made to orgasm by order. She was also annoyed that the infernal man spoke French. He did not rank higher in her esteem because of it, but she was aware that he might, just might, be slightly more intelligent than he looked.

  'OK, everyone, let's head back to the stables. I suspect you're all hungry after this morning's activities and you have lessons to attend shortly. Those wishing to show their appreciation for Petal's hard efforts will have their chance this evening.' All of the faces in the paddock were smiling happily as they made their way back for a spot of well-deserved lunch.

  Pent Up Aggression

  When they reached the confines of the stable doors, Mark indicated with a sweep of his hand that the ponies should have their lunch. Each pony's groom led their charge to a place at the stocks and helped bend them over the metal waist pole whilst removing their bridle.

  Jenny cracked her jaw to ease some of the stiffness that had grown over the morning, and noted that the luncheon arrangements were slightly more informal than the breakfasting procedures. Whilst their heads were still propped in the bottom semi-circles of the stocks, the top was not refastened down upon them. This made eating considerably easier and the fact that Jenny did not have her horsetail thrust back inside her was a blessing. Wasting no time, she sank her jaws into all that was before her. It was pretty much the same nasty fare as yesterday, but with the way her stomach was rumbling any food was better than none. Funnily enough, she hadn't noticed how hungry she was until she had seen the offering in front of her. The
slop was bland and boring. She wondered if the ponies had to eat this rubbish every day. The thought made her shudder. How could they live without chocolate or sugar? It was no wonder they were all as lean as lettuce-munching supermodels. There couldn't have been more than ten calories in the whole of Jenny's trough. She was about to raise her voice in protest, when a woman's voice stopped her.

  'Mark,' the voice had the lilt of a French woman, and one who was obviously out of breath.

  'Isabelle.' Jenny's ears pricked up, although she did not stop eating. Judging by the ribs on display to her left and right, she needed to devour everything they placed in front of her.

  'Is Sir Lyle with you?'

  'No, he had to leave rather urgently. Is there a problem?' Mark looked at his watch.

  'His wife just called. She somehow managed to trace him here and wants to know what on earth he's doing at a "stud farm", as she called it.' Isabelle frowned. 'She did not sound at all pleased.'