The One Pound Ponygirl

by Charles Graham

  Leashed and in despair, Gabrielle could only pray that the lift would be empty, for if it was not she would be displayed in the most extreme humiliation.

  She could hardly credit that Matthew would take such a huge risk.

  If she was seen, how could he possibly explain?

  Unless…and her brain spun wildly as she visualized the scene…unless he could carry it off by convincing anyone they met that she was a willing participant in some sort of erotic sexual adventure. A fantasy in which she actually wanted to be discovered as a bound and gagged sex-slave.

  Most people…herself included she knew…would be so embarrassed that they would not linger to question such a story and Matthew had already proven himself to be an accomplished liar.

  It would unquestionably work, for one glance at her clearly expensive costume and his immaculate appearance would allay most people’s suspicions, for who would believe that she was being transported into a lifetime of slavery by means of a public lift?

  To her complete astonishment and humiliation, Gabrielle felt her nipples stiffen to throbbing rigidity and her sex ooze with juices as her imagination ran riot, picturing the lift doors opening to disgorge a crowd of sophisticated men and elegant women.

  The leash at her throat jerked her forward and as her Master’s free hand rose to capture the swollen button of her left nipple, he chuckled, “Randy little pony-slut. You’re getting turned on, aren’t you? Wondering if someone will see you like this, are you?”

  Gabrielle gasped and her belly kicked hugely as his taunts intensified her own shameful vision and as he recognized her unmistakable reaction, his eyes glittered with malicious amusement.

  “Ah, that struck a chord, didn’t it? You like the idea of being seen, do you? Well, I’m sure I can arrange that. Perhaps I’ll take you to a pony-girl show and arrange to have you displayed in your harness. Maybe with a notice hung around your neck inviting everyone to take you for a drive, eh? How does that sound?”

  Later, when she looked back, Gabrielle would remember that moment as the one when she first dimly began to recognize that she was a natural submissive…

  As his fingers released her nipple, Gabrielle gave a low moan, pleading for more as jet after jet of heated juices showered into her shuddering belly as she climaxed where she stood to the horrifyingly thrilling images his words conjured in her brain.

  Falling to her knees, she rubbed her breasts against his leg, her body shaking in its release as the frenzy of her passion overwhelmed her, no longer knowing or even caring where she was or what such a blatant demonstration of her complete submission might betray about her.

  At that moment, the bell rang to signal the arrival of the lift and the doors hissed open.

  Whether she was relieved or disappointed that it was empty, Gabrielle never had time to discover as she was pulled to her feet, pushed stumbling into the lift car and felt it begin to descend.

  As she regained her balance, she was presented with a sight so stunning that she found it impossible to believe.

  Despite her numerous trips in this self-same lift, she had never really noticed that the back and side walls consisted of floor-to-ceiling mirrors until that moment…

  In the polished glass, she saw herself for the first time as her Master saw her.

  Revealed in every tiny detail, a slender, blonde-haired woman stared back at her from wide, shocked eyes above stretched, bit-gagged lips, a posture-collar forcing her head erect, arms welded into a single-arm glove to strain her shoulders back and thrust her full breasts and erect nipples into shameful prominence, while below a tight, heavily-boned basque. Silvery snakes of love juices still trickled from her pink-lipped sex down her trembling thighs to her hobbled knees and booted feet.

  The woman was the very picture of a thoroughly well used pony-slave in bondage and as Gabrielle examined her own reflection and saw how incredibly sensual and erotic she looked, she understood exactly why Matthew would go to such lengths to capture and keep her as his prisoner.

  The lift hummed downwards bearing Gabrielle towards a fate she now accepted that she was not going to be able to escape and just as she began to wonder whether life as Matthew’s slave and pony-girl might not have certain…compensations…the bell rang and the lift slowed to a halt.

  She glanced up at the floor indicator and froze.

  This was not the basement car park, but floor six.

  Someone had called the lift and as the doors hissed open, Gabrielle’s eyes bulged in panic as her Master smiled politely and said, “Good evening, Miss Harrison.”

  “Good evening, Mr. Torrance,” a soft, well-modulated voice replied and as Gabrielle squealed shrilly into the bit-gag filling her mouth, a tall, fit-looking woman of about Matthew’s age with short black hair and wearing a smartly tailored black suit got into the lift.

  For several seconds the only sound was Gabrielle’s muffled groans as the woman stared at her, then the brunette simply gave her a casual nod and turned to Matthew, “The car park, please. I see that is where you’re taking your…ah…friend.”

  “Yes, that’s right. We’re going for a little drive.”

  “I see. Well, I’m sure you will enjoy it. I always think it’s so much nicer driving at night. So much less traffic to…ah…distract you from your young lady.”

  The polite conversation, oddly normal given the circumstances, became even more surreal as Matthew replied, “Oh, I’m so sorry, Miss Harrison. I’m forgetting my manners. This is Gabrielle.”

  The brunette turned and smiled, “Nice to meet you, my dear. I won’t shake hands as you seem to be somewhat handicapped at present.”

  Matthew gave Gabrielle’s leash a tug and when she turned towards him, ordered, “On your knees, Gabrielle. Show the proper respect to a free woman.”

  Gabrielle hesitated, doubting her own ears, but as her Master frowned and his hand went to the crop at his belt, she realized she had little choice unless she wanted the brunette to be a witness to a pony-slave’s punishment right there and then.

  Flushing a deep scarlet, Gabrielle sank to her knees at the woman’s feet, wishing that the floor would open up and swallow her to hide her shame. With the awful posture collar holding her head up she couldn’t even hide her face.

  None of that seemed to concern the brunette at all, because as she watched Gabrielle humiliate herself, she gave a tinkling laugh, “How very charming. She seems to be a pretty little thing under all that leather and metal. Wherever did you find her?”

  “Believe it or not, at the International Horse Show,” Matthew replied, joining in the woman’s laughter and Gabrielle moaned in dreadful anguish, her blushes deepening as the brunette stooped to look at the bit-gag protruding from the corners of her mouth.

  “Oh, I see.” The woman giggled. “Now I understand what that is. How extraordinary.”

  “Not for a pony-girl,” Matthew pointed out reasonably and the brunette nodded.

  “No, I suppose not. It must have taken a lot of training, I imagine?”

  “Oh, Gabrielle is not trained yet,” Matthew chuckled. “That’s where I’m taking her tonight.”

  The lift braked to a halt and Miss Harrison patted Gabrielle’s gagged cheek, “Well, goodbye and good luck with your training, little pony-girl. I’m sure you’ll do well. And good luck to you too, Mr. Torrance. Do let me know how it all turns out,” and she was gone.

  Gabrielle couldn’t believe it.

  Miss Harrison hadn’t even questioned whether Gabrielle was a willing captive, let alone demanded that Matthew release her even though she must have seen how much discomfort she was in and noticed the vivid red whip stripes on her body and the tell-tale stains at her belly and thighs.

  She had just assumed that Gabrielle truly wanted to be a pony-girl and accepted Matthew’s explanation at face value.

  How could the woman have been so stupid? How could she have possibly thought that anyone would be willing to be bound so helplessly and even whipped? Surely not eve
n the brunette would have imagined that Gabrielle would volunteer to be a pony-girl?

  As the question formed itself in her brain, Gabrielle gulped and her blue eyes widened in dismay. Because that was exactly what she had done. Sold herself as a pony-girl for one solitary pound. A pound she no longer even had.

  What she had instead of her pound, was a Master and as the leash to her collar tightened, Gabrielle stumbled from the brightly-lit lift into the cool dimness of the underground car park.

  Matthew’s gleaming Porsche was parked alongside her Ford, but it was not his car that he led her to, it was hers.

  She watched him open the boot and her heart sank as she realized that her journey to the farm was not to be made in the comfort of his car’s deep leather upholstery, but rather in the cramped, dark confines of the boot of her own.

  Her protesting whines achieved nothing and as he removed her leash then lifted her and bundled her inside, she had no option but to resign herself to the inevitable.

  When he rolled her onto her belly and gripped her ankles in his strong hands, she was in no position to resist the forcible doubling of her legs up to her buttocks and when he clipped the rings on her ankle cuffs to the ring at the finger end of her single-arm glove, her spine was curved into the deep hollow of a stringent and quite inescapable hog-tie.

  Rolled back onto her side and with her posture collar linked to her single-arm glove and the glove linked to her ankles, her arched body was easy prey for her Master’s questing fingers and he was not slow to take full advantage of that fact.

  “Don’t want you getting bored on the journey,” he told her casually. “This’ll give you something to think about.” While one hand dived to the entrance of her sex, the other toyed randomly with her breasts until her body shuddered and quivered with unsatisfied lust. She moaned and sobbed in a torment of need.

  Then, at the peak of her passion and with her eyes pleading for the release of an orgasm that was so, so close, he slammed the boot shut on her, plunging her into darkness and despair and the frantic longing of a wildly aroused slave.

  Just before he started the engine and drove off into the night, Gabrielle heard the familiar strains of one of her favorite songs on the car stereo and her eyes filled with tears of humiliation and anguish as the words echoed through her brain.

  She knew he was playing it as a mocking farewell to her freedom.

  The song was called, “I’m a Slave to Love”.

  Chapter Four

  Hog-tied in the boot of her own car with her body on fire with arousal that she could do nothing to alleviate, Gabrielle lost all track of time and direction as her Master drove on towards the farm where she was to be trained.

  It felt like a long time since the journey had begun, but she had no means of telling and knew that the combination of her remorseless bondage, aching limbs and the persistent throbbing of her nipples and sex hadn’t allowed her much opportunity to think of anything other than her own immediate problems.

  It was a genuine surprise to her to find that she was still highly aroused, because after sex she was normally too drained and relaxed to do much more than lie there and smile. Especially after a climax of such devastating proportions as the one she had endured in the foyer outside Matthew’s apartment.

  In different circumstances she would have thoroughly enjoyed feeling so sexually alive, but circumstances were not different and she was the helpless captive of a man…a Master…who had shown himself to be coldly determined to impose the most outrageous and extreme levels of sexual subjugation upon her.

  If…or rather when…he lifted her from the boot and found that her body was still shamefully responsive, she didn’t want to think what he might do.

  He might even think that she was….enjoying what he had put her through.

  She felt her face redden in the darkness, telling herself that she really, truly hadn’t, she hadn’t, she hadn’t. Why, then, were her nipples still hard and her sex so embarrassingly wet? That was the question she dared not ask, for she feared that if she was to answer it honestly, it would leave her with no defense against her Master. Or against her growing, previously unsuspected and deeply worrying uncertainties as to the truth about her own nature.

  It was almost a relief to Gabrielle when she felt the car slow down and turn off onto a bumpier track, presumably the one to Matthew’s farm.

  Almost, but not entirely, because very soon he was going to find out that she was still extremely aroused…and she was going to find out just how seriously she had miscalculated when she had light-heartedly and almost unthinkingly agreed to be his pony-girl.

  A decision that was without question the worst she had ever made in her whole life and one she had a very strong feeling she was going to live to regret…..

  The car stopped and as she heard him get out and slam the door, the full impact of her situation hit Gabrielle like a brick wall. This wasn’t a game she was playing with a caring and considerate lover…this was real. She had been kidnapped and bound and was completely at the mercy of her captor. No-one knew where she was or what had happened to her.

  She had kept her relationship with Michael a secret from her colleagues at work because she had considered it was no concern of theirs and had, only the previous month, paid the rental on her apartment for the next six months.

  Her landlord certainly wouldn’t worry about her until the next payment was due and with the high turnover of staff at her work, it would just be assumed that she’d found herself a better job. It happened all the time and was simply accepted.

  With her parents both dead for almost ten years, she had lived a fairly quiet life with only an occasional short-term fling to break the pattern.

  Her humdrum life and lack of close friends had never bothered her…until now. She could vanish and no-one would be any the wiser or try to search for her.

  As the realization that she was quite alone sank into her brain, she threw herself into a titanic battle against her bonds, tugging and straining with every ounce of her strength until beads of sweat sprang out all over her body and she panted for breath through flaring nostrils. For long, endless minutes she jerked and twisted and heaved…and at the end of that time, she was just as tightly secured, just as helpless as she had been at the beginning.

  Exhausted and totally demoralized she finally lay still as she was forced to accept that there was no way for her to free herself without help.

  When keys eventually rattled in the lock of her mobile prison, she sucked in a deep calming breath and stared upwards seeking her first sight of the place where her new life was to begin. The dark shape of her Master loomed over her and without a word he flipped her over onto her belly, his hands busy at her ankles. The clinking of chain came to her ears, then her ankles were released from the hog-tie and she gasped in relief as her aching legs straightened.

  He lifted her from the boot and set her down, gripping her elbows firmly until her legs recovered enough strength to support her.

  She took the opportunity to look around and in the pale moonlight saw the long, low shape of a building in front of her and another, much larger, just to its left with all around, the dark, silent bulk of a forest.

  There was no sound of traffic, no glow of lights in the sky to indicate a town and as Gabrielle realized that she was a long, long way from her home and familiar surroundings, her spirits drooped even further.

  Her Master bent to release the hobble from her knees, then stood back, “The low building is my home and the stable-block,” he told her. “The bigger one is the barn where your training will begin tomorrow. I’m going in for a drink before I go to bed. You come in when you’re ready.”

  To her complete surprise, he left her standing there as he made his way to the house and went inside. Gabrielle didn’t know what to think. Was it a trick? Or some sort of test? Or did he really think she would simply follow him, like some sort of tame pet?

  Whatever he thought, it was her opportunity to escape and
she wasn’t going to waste it. She turned to run and nearly fell flat on her face as she discovered what the clinking of chain had been about when he undid her hog-tie. Her ankle cuffs were connected by twelve inches of strong chain.

  She might have guessed he wouldn’t make it that easy for her to escape, she thought to herself, but if he imagined she’d give up just because it wasn’t quite as straightforward as she’d hoped, he had badly underestimated her.

  She wasn’t going to let a little thing like that stop her.

  A broad expanse of flat meadow lay in front of her and as it offered much easier going than the dark woods all around, Gabrielle walked forward with short careful steps, making quite certain that she wasn’t tripped by the chain tightening unexpectedly. It was hard, much harder than she anticipated and it wasn’t helped by the fact that her high-heeled boots made her walk almost on tip-toe and set up an immediate dull aching in her calf muscles.

  By the time she reached the far side of the meadow and was confronted by the ominous black mass of thick forest, she was already tired, footsore and almost wishing she had just followed Matthew into the house. She was a city girl, dammit and not cut out for wandering around in forests. It looked so…menacing, somehow and she didn’t know what might be in there, lurking in the darkness. She knew it must be her imagination playing tricks on her, but she felt as if unseen eyes were watching her. It was a frightening sensation and Gabrielle shivered as a cool breeze played over her naked breasts and belly, rustling the leaves and branches as if the forest was chuckling at her.

  What was she doing out here, miles from civilization? She didn’t even know which way civilization was and for all she knew, she might be headed in completely the wrong direction. What if she got lost? If the woods were as big and as dense as they looked, she might wander about for days without finding her way out.

  What if somebody was watching her and just waiting until she stumbled into their clutches? It suddenly seemed much colder and darker and scarier to Gabrielle and she whimpered in growing panic as she imagined hands reaching out to seize her and pull her into the impenetrable darkness under the trees.