Summer School & After School: The Ponygirl Omnibus Edition

by Jurgen von Stuka

  Thus armed with only minimal knowledge of whatever Groff had planned, Bibi took a cab to Berlin’s Tegel airport, a small and out of date facility that was being replaced by a more modern airport in the near future. Four hours later, she was in Amsterdam and headed for the Yellow Barge Hotel.

  Chapter Ten

  Mine

  Lucy was adapting to the routine at the mine. She worked for sometimes as much as twenty hours a day and slept the rest of the time in the barred cubicle in the cave. There were other women in similar confinement in the mine, but no one talked or tried to communicate with her and she was pretty sure that all of the workers were like her and all were also probably gagged most of the time. It was a cold winter and eventually it seemed like most of the mining operations, such as they were, had stopped. When this happened, those who were the actual miners were locked up and provided with minimal maintenance. The ponies in transport service did less work because there was less debris to carry down the mountain and even fewer supplies to take up. Still, discipline had to be maintained and Lucy saw, heard and participated in enough of this nearly random violence to keep her head down and do only and exactly what she was told to do.

  On occasion, while heading to her cart, she passed a barred gateway that led to The Pit, a place to avoid at all costs. One day, her boss directed her to go to the gate with a driver and they stood in front of the massive iron structure until someone opened it with the squeaking of unoiled hinges and the groans of two chained women turning a manual windlass that opened and closed the gate. Another woman with a collar and chains connecting hands, feet and neck, led them down the path and around a corner, into an open area that provided a scenic view of a huge open pit where slave miners worked with picks and shovels. Other slaves loaded handcarts and moved loads of rock up or down the steep inclined ramps to processing machines that crushed the rock and sent it away on moving belts. Lucy found it remarkable that there were very few men in evidence and those who were served as drivers or supervisors to the female slave labor force.

  While the outside weather on the mountain was subzero, the temperature inside the pit was tropical, which may have been one reason why none of the slaves, miners or ponies wore any clothing. The men wore minimal loincloths and a pistol belt with multiple pouches. Lucy and her driver were directed with hand signals to go to an area littered with rubble and pick up the body of an obviously dead woman slave. She lay on her stomach with multiple deep whip wounds from neck to ankles and it appeared that she had been dead for some time. Two slaves standing by loaded the body into Lucy’s cart and she and the driver started back up the incline towards the gate. As they approached the closed gateway, Lucy was astonished to see a beautifully dressed Sasha Marbella hastily emerge from the gatehouse, black bullwhip in hand. Lucy knew that eye contact was forbidden, but her peripheral vision told her that Sasha was staring intently at her and that she signaled the driver to stop the cart. Sasha went back into the guard shack, had a heated one-way conversation with someone and then emerged and walked past Lucy without a look or a word, leaving the pit area through a small personnel gate. As soon as she was gone, the main gate was creaked open and Lucy left, pulling the cart to a disposal area where other slaves unceremoniously dumped the body in a heap. Lucy went back to her cell. That was all the work she did that day or the next.

  Then her program changed suddenly. Amid a raging snow storm, she was taken naked, except for her waist and crotch straps, from her cage and locked into a strange device that looked somewhat like an upside-down Christian cross with two cross bars, one at the bottom where her feet were locked into cuffs on the end, and another shorter bar about two thirds upward where her wrists were locked in rigid cuffs. At the top was a larger collar cuff. All of the cuffs and bars were permanently welded to the central vertical bar.

  Locked into the steel tree frame, she discovered immediately that it brought intense pain to her back and abdomen while allowing no movement of her arms, head and legs. Despite the crude simplicity of the contraption, her position was intolerable and there was nothing she could do about it. She was more helpless than she had ever been. The old metal and leather gag was put back into her mouth and she was left sitting hunched over with the device holding her immobilized until they picked her up and dumped her into the back of a small van. They chained the metal tree to one side of the van and a cloth hood was placed over Lucy’s head. She realized that what made this restraint so uncomfortable was the permanent position of each cuff. Welded to the frame and tightly enclosing her wrists and ankles, even a minimal shift in body position brought pain to her trapped limbs. She shifted her ass a bit to ease the strain on her back, but nothing seemed to help. Then the driver got into the truck and they started down the winding, icy mountain road with Lucy in great discomfort in the back. It was difficult going and apparently, based on the driver’s constant swearing and the lurching of the van, the road was slippery and dangerous. It was very cold in the van and Lucy shivered, hoping that they would soon reach shelter or that the driver would direct some of the heater’s warmth towards her nearly naked captive form.

  They arrived at their destination and the driver carried Lucy into a warm building. He set her down with a rough wooden stool under her ass and left her there. Eventually, a door opened and she heard what she immediately identified as Fabian’s voice, speaking to her softly in his perfect stylized German. She felt his smooth hand and on her shoulder and she involuntarily flinched. Until this moment, she had only occasionally speculated about Fabian’s possible involvement in her abduction, but his presence here testified to her earlier dreaded assumption that he had orchestrated the entire operation.

  “Hello, Lucy, my dear. You’re looking well,” Fabian said, his hand moving from her shoulder to her breast and then to the large metal ring on her left nipple, which he tugged lightly.

  Lucy, by now well acclimated to such handling, remained still in her metal tree entrapment. Fabian moved behind her and without warning, pulled the stool out from under her. Lucy fell back, the base of the tree pivoting on the floor. Fabian reached around her, embracing her chest and holding her to him with one hand on each cold breast, the nipple rings encircling his index finger on both hands. Lucy moaned into the gag and turned her collared head one way and then the other inside the cloth bag.

  “Ahhgh, Abbbeeennn. ittttsss eeeee,” she cried.

  “Oh, of course, I know it’s you, Lucy. I put you here, more or less, and I am here to take you somewhere you and I can spend a lot more time together…that is unless you want to stay here...” Fabian’s soft voice was almost pleading, much as it had when she resisted his sexual advances. “You do want to get out of here, don’t you?”

  “Essshh,” Lucy moaned, her mind rushing into a contemplation of how and why and what had happened.

  “Good,” said Fabian, squeezing the breasts he had been refused access to months before, and allowing his hands to travel down over her now muscular and firm abdomen and easing one finger under the tight crotch band and into her sex. Lucy struggled a moment and then, knowing it would make no difference, allowed him to do as he wished. With one hand in his own crotch and the other jammed beneath the crotch band and playing with her slowly lubricating sex, Fabian masturbated himself to a quick and jerking climax, removed his hands and allowed Lucy to topple over onto the floor. Fabian took a napkin from the table in the room, cleaned himself and closed his pants, all the while muttering about how they were going to have a grand time.

  “I want you to think about the trip in the tuba case, my dear,” Fabian said, as Lucy struggled without success to right the tipped over steel tree frame and find any position more comfortable than the one she was in. “When we leave here, you will have similar accommodations for the next twenty hours or so. Perhaps the recollection of your previous traveling arrangements will allow you to prepare for this journey, which will be your last.”

  Lucy instantly recalled the ghastly trip in the case, from the time they took
her down from the wall hook in the train compartment to her eventual arrival at the Amsterdam warehouse where she was repackaged for her transatlantic trip. The tuba case was barely large enough to hold her, but the capture team took their time stuffing her into it, realigning her several times before they found the best position. When they were done, Lucy was in a balled up posture with her hands tightly tied behind her, wrists pulled up to a rope collar around her neck, elbows cruelly bound nearly touching, and multiple lengths of rope from her arms around her chest above and below her generous breasts. The painful metal traps had been removed from her tits, but the marks left by those evil devices remained and were over shadowed by the yards of rope wound around each breast and strung from her arms across her chest and back again. The thin, cutting ropes through her cunt were tightened until she was sure she was being sliced into three pieces. Her legs were pulled up with more rope until her knees were under her chin and thighs pressed against her compressed and hurting tits.

  More rope went behind her knees and over her back, cinched to the elbow ropes and then led back over her shoulders before being anchored conveniently around each already tightly wrapped breast. For diversion, and because they were still an hour away from the Amsterdam rail terminal, the woman tied each of Lucy’s fingers with twine and pulled the ends in different directions across her shoulder blades so that her hands were splayed out like a spider web. They toyed with various gags until satisfied that very little sound could seep out from behind the flat, foam filled pad that covered her already well packed mouth. A multitude of straps held the combination gag in place and anchored an additional blindfold pad. When they closed the tuba case, Lucy was little more than a tightly wrapped package stuffed inside the hard case. Breathing holes were conveniently located near enough to her head to allow air to circulate inside the case. Lucy was cased and ready to go. The kidnap gang laughed and drank beer until they rolled into Amsterdam. Now Fabian, the man she had repeatedly and unsuccessfully sought to use her for his own personal enjoyment, was back and she knew it was time for payback.

  Chapter Eleven

  Band

  Bibi, all 56.24 kg of her, was learning to dance…again. But she wasn’t much good at it and her three captors were bored. The day before, they pulled her out of the barred metal cage where she was kept handcuffed and allowed her to dress in her skintight, Lycra body suit. They photographed her in various bondage positions, slowly destroying the suit as they cut and ripped holes for first her nipples, then her entire breasts and finally her sex. The photos and videos of the tall, busty blond, suspended from the high rafters of the windmill basement would have made an excellent streaming on-line show or a more than hour long DVD.

  Facing the stone floor with her arms and legs bent backwards towards the ceiling, Bibi was not cooperative in this situation, so cooperation was encouraged with an electrical prod and Bibi soon became docile. They tied her with ropes from wrists, ankles and a waist rope pulled back through her sex and connected to the high pulleys. Putting different tension on different ropes brought different pained responses.

  Her captors lubricated their entertainment with plenty of Dutch beer and occasionally poured the foamy liquid over Bibi, working the beer into her open mouth and around the rope through her crotch. Eventually, more or less drunk and dissatisfied with this suspension, they lowered her to the floor, bound her elbows together and then arranged a more complex suspension position with ropes from the back of the gag rope, her elbows, wrists, crotch and ankles. She swung by these six taut lines, the rope cleave gag in her stretched and open mouth, while they worked over her buttocks, thighs and back with a series of paddles, whips and canes. Bibi screamed through the rope gag and they delightedly recorded her pleas and cries. When the tormentors finally passed out, they left her hanging until late at night when they finally cut her down, pulled her ankles up to her wrists and left her in a hog-tied bow while they slept it off. Someone untied her in the early morning and stuffed her into the cage where she remained until daylight.

  Today’s activity was about the same. They took her out of her cage, removed the handcuffs and shackles and told her to put on the bra and panties she was forced to shed when she arrived at the windmill. They told her to dance slowly and erotically while they tape-recorded it all for some unknown later purpose. They enticed her to dance by firing electronic shock charges into wireless electrodes taped to her nipples, clit and asshole at random times while verbally encouraging her to perform an erotic strip tease.

  “Open your eyes, damn it,” the man behind the video cam kept shouting while the others in the room sat and pressed buttons linked to the wireless shock-generating machine. Bibi had strange eyes with pupils that seemed more like those of a cat than of a human. In her present state, it did indeed look like they were closed, even if they weren’t. She had no interest in stripping for anyone, but as an option instead of the shocks, she slowly slipped the shoulder straps of her bra off and then pulled it down, revealing her large and perfectly globular breasts.

  That got everyone’s attention and for the moment the shocks stopped. A small eagle tattoo on her left breast got a close-up shot from the video camera man and then she was pushing down her nylon bikini panties with her thumbs hooked in the sides and her arms slowly straightening out and the panties moved down her long, smooth white thighs. As she stepped out of the panties, she stumbled and fell into a nude heap on the floor. For Bibi, that was enough. She stayed there despite the entreaties of the video crew and audience. Again, they administered a barrage of electric shocks, but she refused to stir, moving only her legs and trying with minimal effort to stand back up. She made a slight effort at first to resume her awkward dance, but as the shocks increased, she became less and less responsive. Dissatisfied with her performance, (especially when she collapsed to the floor from too many shocks at once), they picked her up, locked her hands and ankles in regular handcuffs and stashed her in a metal discipline box with only her ass and head sticking out. For further discomfort and punishment, the woman, who had been encouraging the others to abuse her more, jammed a new plastic phallus up her ass and another, fatter one into her mouth. She taped the oral plug in place, sealed Bibi’s eyes with more tape and attached a vibration and retainer arm to the anal probe. To keep her interested, she clipped two heavy little bells to Bibi’s nipples. They locked the side panel of the box, shut off the lights in the room, bid her a good night and closed the heavy steel door.

  Bibi shuddered and shivered in the box. The bells on her tits jingled annoyingly. She could not move or change position. Where her head and ass stuck out through the sides of the box, the rough metal edges cut and chaffed her skin. Her hands were cuffed behind her and chained to the inside top of the box, pulling her arms upward and forcing her to bend over, thus thrusting her ass outwards through the hole in the back of the box. Her head stuck out of the second hole, a small oval opening in the box front. Viewed from outside, one saw her taped and sealed head sticking out the front and facing the floor and her plugged and vibrator-equipped ass sticking out the back of the box. The side entry to the steel enclosure was locked.

  She continued to wonder what the hell had happened. One minute she was walking back to the car and then, suddenly, without warning, they were upon her. It was an unfair fight as far as Bibi was concerned because the three attackers had no idea what or who they were dealing with. Three large men smelling of garlic and beer grabbed her from behind, one clamped his stinking hand over her mouth and the other two held her arms while forcing her to the ground. Reacting instinctively to her years of training, Bibi went down hard, dragging all three with her, taking them off balance and making them think that they had already beaten this unsuspecting woman. But, as she fell, Bibi bent her knees and twisted her body to her left, at the same time rolling fast and bringing up her powerful right arm, driving her fist into the solar plexus of the man who had been holding her left arm. She heard the air hiss suddenly out of his lungs. Still turning, she co
cked and kicked her left leg, the hard boot heel driving up and into his crotch. The man released her and went down.

  Trying desperately to hang on to their victim, the other two men were being whirled in a tight circle as Bibi fought from the inside. The man on her right was now struggling to keep hold of this thrashing, punching, kicking banshee that they had unknowingly attacked. As he switched his grip from her right arm to her waist, Bibi bent again and turned further inside him, driving her right thigh and knee upwards into his exposed crotch, crushing his balls. The man yelled a high pitched scream and let go, only to get Bibi’s clenched right fist in his face, the middle knuckle of the middle finger, slightly extended and going directly into his eye. Pain engulfed the second man and he went to the ground, leaving his remaining cohort to deal with Bibi.

  The third guy was already at a disadvantage because he and his pals assumed that they could easily overpower this well-dressed blond who looked like a model. They foolishly had not planned their attack very well. Before he could gather his wits and defend himself, Bibi delivered a stunning high kick to his chest, driving him back and into the stone wall that bordered the walkway behind him, the heel of her leather boot breaking at least one of his ribs. He moaned and went down on his knees. Bibi followed up with a second kick to his jaw and they all heard the bone snap, putting him out of the fight.