A Rough Ride: Pony girl training in latex and leather (Pony Tales Book 5)

by C. P. Mandara

  'Ah, here comes the hotel. This is where we're headed, Petal. I figure you're due a spot of cleaning duty. It might teach you some humility and that pleasing me really is in your best interests, if you're intent on surviving your stay at Albrecht, that is.' Kyle ran a hand through his sandy blond hair and smiled to himself. The day was beginning to improve. For one thing, he'd just remembered that her suit featured several volts of electricity to reach the places other types of pain could not, and that humiliating this spoilt little rich brat could be a lot of fun if he set his mind to it.

  As the hotel loomed into view he spotted Petal's head twisting this way and that, as her eyes anxiously sought out avenues of escape. She'd be crazy to try it. She was tagged and they would hunt her down and teach her a lesson she'd never forget if she put a hoof out of place. For that reason alone he hoped she'd run. He'd love to be the one who found her.

  Hauling on her reins and watching her stumble forward, he led her up the gravel path towards the hotel's side entrance, which was reserved strictly for staff. Leaving her facing the door he let her bridle trail on the floor and gave her an opportunity. The question was, would she use it?

  Jenny's feet itched to run, as far and as fast as they could, but although the thought of escape was uppermost in her mind she was not as foolish as Kyle thought. For one thing, she was wearing stupid high-heeled boots that made a quick getaway virtually impossible, and for another he was right behind her. If she was going to make it out of this place she would need to pick her time very carefully, and she wasn't foolish enough to believe she would make it on her own. She needed a helping hand from someone on the inside.

  'Going to open the door for me, Petal?' Kyle asked the question from directly behind her and she jumped, the hood having shut out her peripheral vision. Immediately she moved forward and her hooved mitt pawed at the door before she realised her mistake. He laughed. 'You're not going to need hands in your new vocation, P. Just think of yourself as a bunch of juicy wet holes that will constantly beg to be used and abused. You'll be pleasing the patrons of the stable by allowing them to watch those lovely tits bounce up and down, when they get a chance to sit in your cart, as you prance about prettily and take them for a ride. You're officially a plaything, P. Your only mission in life is to obey every single word directed at you. Get used to it.'

  He opened the door, issuing the command, 'Follow me.' As he grabbed her reins and pulled Jenny had little choice but to obey.

  He led her through the empty restaurant, with its sparkling wine and water glasses, and pristinely polished crockery. Yellow English roses spewed forth from fluted vases and knives and forks glistened. Cutlery! How many days had it been since she used the ubiquitous utensils? A fresh wave of anger swept over her at the petty detail and her eyes threatened to leak fresh tears. She stoppered them. Kyle would enjoy them, and the fewer pleasures he received the better, in her opinion.

  'Good morning, Grace.' Kyle winked as the secretary who had greeted Jenny a few very long days ago walked past.

  'Morning, Kyle. If you're here for cleaning duty they're starting in the lobby. There are some onlookers today, wanting a bit of fun, so you've been warned.' She winked at Jenny and gave her a pleasant smile.

  If Jenny had been able to she'd have bitten her head off. The ball-gag sat thickly in her mouth as she fumed. Her wants and needs mattered for little though, as she was dragged to the entrance of the lobby. When they reached the door Kyle let go of her bridle and placed his booted foot in the small of her back, before pushing her forward. Her hoof-mitts shot out to break her fall and she landed heavily on her knees.

  'We always enter the lobby on all fours, to show respect for any guests who may be present.' Kyle sauntered past her and as the door swung closed, Jenny had little choice but to shuffle forward if she wanted to avoid getting her backside squashed. Following swiftly behind him, her view obscured by the back of his legs, she nearly had a heart attack as soon as he moved out of the way. The lobby was filled with naked pony-girls, but the sight of them wasn't where the shock lay. She was almost inured to bare-fleshed women and pony tack by now. The shock was wholly in what they were doing.

  All of the girls were gagged without exception, and all of the gags had various cleaning attachments. There were feather dusters, mops, scrubbing brushes, brooms - and even a squeegee for cleaning the windows. If that had been the worst of it, Jenny might have sighed and accepted her fate, if not with equanimity, then with a sense of subdued resignation, but as usual Albrecht had gone a step further in its depravations.

  There were several guests milling around in reception and it was clear they were there for a show. An array of pony-boys and girls had been tied up with white bondage rope in a number of different positions, all of which left them spread open wide and allowed easy access to their various orifices. Some had been tied together, male upon female, while others suffered to be hogtied and a couple were suspended mid-air by their ankles from ceiling chains. That didn't concern Jenny overmuch, although she didn't particularly want to be in their place, remembering the fierce pain of cramped muscles from last night. What did concern her, was that some of the gags she saw on the girls' faces featured butt plugs and dildos and it was clear what the trainers had in mind for them. Please God, no, she thought in horror. They couldn't force her to do that, surely? But she knew with a fatal, sick kind of inevitability that they could do exactly that and the more she showed her disgust, the more the twisted patrons of this place would enjoy it.

  Jerking out of the way as one of the girls swept a wet mop back and forth with her lips, diligently working at the parquet floor with her mouth, Jenny sucked in air and cursed as her suit began to hum. The added calculation of her arousal would take the edge off this room, and that was a bad thing because she was sure she would need all her wits about her in order to survive the experience. Crawling a little faster behind Kyle as adrenaline spiked in her system, she tried to not to watch as one poor pony who had soft cloth pads attached to her hands and knees, polished behind the mop. Looking with dread towards her mouth Jenny saw a black rubber butt-plug gag anchored firmly within her jaws, and she shuddered.

  Meanwhile, Kyle had been exchanging various pleasantries with the guests and charming the lady patrons with his friendly banter. Jenny wondered how he could chat about inanities such as the weather when there was a room full of naked sex-slaves on display, wiggling their asses and polishing the woodwork. The twilight zone wasn't a patch on this get-up, that was for certain.

  The buzzing on her suit became more insistent and her body tightened into its pre-orgasmic haze of pain. Mind over matter, she thought, as she felt her ball-gag being roughly unbuckled from her lips. Maybe she would be able to orgasm if she concentrated carefully. The pounding dildos had her body rigidly anchored to the floor for balance and her swelling sphincter had her gasping with the heady combination of both pain and pleasure. She let out a sharp squeal just as she was about to jump off the edge of oblivion before her suit gave her a short, intense shock and nipped her clitoris cruelly. Jenny would have squealed again but Kyle stoppered her mouth with another rubber gag as her eyes nearly burst out of their sockets.

  'This is called a butterfly gag,' he informed her. 'It will anchor itself in your jaw a bit more firmly than that of the ball variety and will enable you to perform your duties with a bit more finesse.'

  Jenny wanted to growl as the sharp taste of rubber invaded her mouth yet again, harsh and unpleasant. The gag was fitted into her mouth by means of a head harness and leather straps were buckled tightly behind her head, with a vertical leather strap forming a triangular shape over her nose. Kyle attached a pump to the gag resting over the lower portion of her face and began inflating the rubber butterfly inside her mouth. It didn't take long for her to realise that this was a much more unpleasant way of silencing her than the ball-gag. The tighter he pumped up the orb inside her, the harder it would become to breathe and as the thing began to stretch her jaw she pawed at the
floor in helpless agitation, choking around it.

  'That snug enough?' Kyle's face wavered into view as her two eye slits looked around the room in panic. 'You want it tighter?' He raised an eyebrow to indicate that he wanted an answer. She shook her head madly and gave a couple of paws to the floor for good measure. She was rewarded with a smile. 'Didn't think so. Now, let's see. What shall we start with?'

  Jenny felt her lips swell to double their normal size under the pressure of the gag and her eyes locked upon the screw fixture which protruded from her mouth. What would Kyle choose? Please don't let it be the plug, she pleaded silently. Her hands were trying to form fists within her mitts and failing miserably, and the feel of her heartbeat trebling was none too pleasant.

  Kyle looked at her, assessing. 'Hmm, how about a position as chief boot-cleaner?'

  Jenny was, unfortunately, all too aware that it wasn't a question. He squatted down before her and began rummaging around in a cardboard box. 'Ah, perfect,' he said, pulling out a stiff-bristled shoe brush attachment, holding it up to her eye slits so she could see his chosen instrument of humiliation up close. After she had taken a look he nodded to himself, and wasted little time in screwing it onto the front of her face.

  'You look gorgeous,' he said, and his eyes fairly twinkled with malicious glee. 'Now how about you go crawl around and find some boots to lick. When you've cleaned all the shoes in the room you can report back to me. You'll find the wax in a tin next to the trophies. Remember to beg for the privilege of cleaning their shoes and for God's sake don't look at any of the guests. Keep your eyes to the floor and your nose busy just above that shoe brush. Annoy me any further today and you'll find your delicate little backside getting a roasting in the dungeon and maybe even a spell in the pit.' He slapped her ass hard to indicate that his pep talk was over and Jenny was sent scurrying over to the wax tin, with more eagerness than she would have thought possible.

  She put her enthusiasm down to the fact that it was just a shoe brush and not a butt-plug or dildo that would be adorning the front of her mouth. She could not deny the relief she had felt when he pulled out the brush. Just three days ago she would have been horrified at this type of activity, now she was accepting of her lot in the lowliest of low positions and ready to serve.

  Reaching the tin of wax she pointed her mouth downwards and ran the brush across the tacky surface, liberally coating the bristles with the clear polish. The smell of coconut infiltrated her hood and was actually quite pleasant. She savoured it for a moment, having smelt nothing but sweat, muck and musty straw for most of her stay at Albrecht. It took a moment before she realised what she was doing. Inhaling wax? These were to be her little pleasures in life? She wanted to roar, but Kyle's boot up her backside was an indication that her spell of daydreaming was up.

  'Get to it, Petal. My temper's on a short leash today, remember?' His voice was laced with venom and it was clear he was unimpressed. Jenny wanted to rub her hindquarters, sure that the cowboy had left a bruise with his swift kick to her flank, but she didn't dare stop until she reached the nearest patron to service.

  She chose a pair of women, sitting side by side and resting on two white chairs. They were middle-aged, perfectly groomed and dressed to impress in knee-high boots, leather skirts and sheer blouses which left little to the imagination. The underwear was lacy and racy. As their gazes bent down to examine her she wasted no time in showing off her efforts to please, getting to her knees quickly and begging with her hooves in a gentle pawing motion. She was rewarded with laughter.

  'Aren't they adorable?' It was a woman's laughter Jenny heard and she was given a pat on the head for her troubles. 'Yes, you may clean my boots,' the giggling voice continued. Helpfully placing both feet shoulder width apart on the floor, she waited patiently for the novice to begin.

  Jenny swallowed thickly, aware that she should be dismayed at what she was about to do, but the dildos were drumming away inside her once again and the knowledge that worse things awaited many of the other ponies allowed her to accept her new position with more grace than usual. She lowered her mouth to the supple leather of the left boot and began to scrub away diligently. The ladies completely ignored her as she worked.

  'I come here for my two week vacation every year,' said one.

  The other chuckled. 'My hubby thinks I've booked myself into a health farm.' They both then had fits of hysterics, which made life very hard for Jenny who was trying to clean the ankle of a boot which was trying to slap her in the face.

  'I bet you lose weight after the two weeks, though, so he'd never know,' continued the other. 'All those orgasms...' There was a long sigh. The boots twitched but this time they managed to remain on the floor and Jenny continued to scrub vigorously up their sides, craning her neck in a way that would have greatly impressed her yoga instructor, had she made it past the first lesson.

  'Sylvia, why have some of the girls got butt-plugs strapped to their mouths?'

  The boots wobbled as Sylvia snorted. 'Oh, it's an incentive to make sure that those who are given cleaning duty do a thorough and careful job. If they don't, well, let's just say it gets quite entertaining around here.'

  It was the other lady's turn to snort and they dissolved into yet more laughter. Jenny nearly gave up her cleaning job, as trying to get anywhere near the boots was proving difficult.

  'Lavinia, I think my boots are just about finished. What say we ask our pony to give them a shine?'

  Lavinia clapped her hands together, and although Jenny didn't dare raise her head to look at the woman she knew there would be a wide smile upon her face. 'What an excellent idea, Sylvia. Go and fish her gag out. I do hope she tries to talk to us. Remember what they said, in orientation? We can slap them if they try to talk to us. Imagine that.' Lavinia peeled off into more of her extremely irritating laughter.

  When Sylvia unbuckled Jenny's gag she tried to wrench it forcefully out of her mouth before realising she would have to let the air out of the vent. Kyle came to the rescue and quickly depressurized the gag before pulling it from his trainee's mouth.

  'I hope Petal is pleasing you, ladies,' he said in a particularly smarmy voice.

  'Very much so, Sir, but we're a little curious. Why is she in the latex get-up? We were hoping to have a little fun with her,' pouted Lavinia.

  'Ah, well this kiddo here is a very special pony. She's going to be trained to be the best of the best and knock spots off the rest.' He winked at them. 'Petal, here, is destined to wear the black collar and she'll need to endure lots of rigorous training in order to make herself stand out from the crowd. The suit she's wearing is designed to bring her to the peak of orgasm again and again over a period of two days, but not allow her the luxury of release. It's intended to make her hungry for the smallest touch, or the lightest little caress of her trainer's hand, and it will help to soup-up her sex drive.' He looked at his watch. 'In around twenty-four hours we get to see if it's done the job, don't we, P?'

  Jenny could do little but nod her head miserably in response. Her lips were covered in sticky drool and her hand came up automatically to swipe at it, before she realised the hoof-mitt wasn't really designed for such a thing. Kyle slapped her face, hard. As his handprint bloomed on her cheek, leaving a hot and throbbing mark of fire, Jenny wondered what on earth she'd done wrong now.

  'Ponies do not touch their faces with their hooves. Your groom will clean you up later. The ladies have asked you to shine their boots and here you are messing around. Get your tongue out, slave, and attend to these boots! You're not to stop until they're sparkling under the weight of your saliva.' He gave her backside a pinch for good measure, yanked her head up by her hair and smothered her nose to the boot in question. He did not let go of her until she began to lick.

  Jenny did not like the taste of leather. She didn't think much of the coconut wax, either. At least there was some kind of taste to it, she supposed, rather than the bland mush and liquid she had been forced to endure over the past few days. La
pping at the leather and keenly aware of her subservient status, she felt heat pool in her loins. Hopefully it had something to do with subtle electric current running through her suit, which was starting to tickle and excite the places that ordinary clothing could not reach. She had the nasty feeling, though, that it might have something to do with crawling around on the floor and obeying orders for the delight of brutal individuals who had no thoughts whatsoever about tormenting an innocent young lady. The electric current unfurled through her body slowly, and built up a steady anticipation that could be felt across every nerve-ending she possessed.

  When she had finished the set of boots before her she was aching with need and desperate to be used, although she knew she had little hope of her wish being granted. She pawed at the air, begging for attention, to indicate she had finished her task.