Samantha’s torso bucked beneath him as she climaxed from his touch. The steady eruption of ecstasy made her gasp, pant, and offer whimpering mews of endurance. The chaotic dance beneath him as he drove into a tight puckered anus rapidly brought the male slave to orgasm as well. His rhythm became equally random as he plunged and drew back a little, then more, then dove in with stuttered thrusts. His hands clasped to her for fortitude and Samantha felt liquid warmth being sown deep within her rear. The sensation gave her a sudden repeat of her delight and she stretched upward. Raising her arms high over her head, she released a yowling cry of delight.
The slave backed down and dropped onto his elbows so that he could continue to devour his pleasure by firing his hips up into the kneeling form of Samantha. His mumbled compliments barely registered as Samantha continued to feel him jumping up into her from behind, marvelling at her body.
Tobin was filling his sight with her curves from his reclined pose. He was also delighting in the hot feel of her rear on his shaft.
Samantha felt Tobin slow then start to stall. As he lowered, she followed him and remained sat upon his cock. She could feel spasmodic twitches in the raging shaft and also in the body she was straddling. Tobin was languid on the floor beneath her and like her own, his body ran with lines of perspiration.
When she decided to leave him, she recklessly threw herself aside. Both of them gave a wild throe of response as their sensitive genitals answered the separation with one final jolt of fabulous sensation.
The two slaves remained limp on the carpet, their mouths agape and panting, their eyes closed as they tried to gather some shred of energy so that they might move. However, everything they possessed had been squandered for now.
“Did you enjoy your time with my pet, Samantha?” asked the woman.
“Yes, Lady Morgana,” she humbly replied.
“Well, now that you’ve sampled a male submissive, it’s time to fill out your resume a little more. It seems that Mistress Carol was more impressed with you than I thought. She’s told a mutual friend of ours all about your charms and he’s asked me to send you to him. Are you ready for that?” she said, and looked over the text message on her cell phone again.
Samantha had been so absorbed by their lovemaking that she had not even detected the arrival of the message. It was a reassurance and weight off of her mind to have Mistress Carol call in her praise so quickly and to spread the word of Samantha’s talents, even if it was just because of her attractive anguish.
“Of course, Lady Morgana,” she answered flatly.
All of Samantha’s previous petty hates had been happily put away on a distant shelf in her mind. The pleasing exchanges with the male slave had cemented the outlook on her new life as property. Samantha was now ready and willing to try everything carnal all over again without judgement or prejudice. She was a little worried about serving a male Master, but it would be a new experience and hopefully a good one. If anything, she should be more concerned about Mistress Carol or her influence on this Master’s actions.
Chapter Thirteen
Lady Morgana was stunning in a riding outfit. She wore knee-high leather boots with a three-inch heel. The leather gripped her legs and was burnished to a glistening perfection. Tight riding trousers followed her legs like a second creamy skin and accepted a loose shirt of crisp white cotton with short sleeves. The front was open a short way to expose a vinyl bra, and the cups had a slit along them and a buckled strap stretched across the vent so as to cover each nipple. She also wore tight leather gloves and an elegant flat crowned dressage top hat.
“Time to get you ready, slave,” she said while patting a short crop into her gloved palm. “Master Talon is waiting.”
Tom and Thumper entered the room and were still completely naked save for their infernal chastity belts. Each woman carried a neatly folded pile of leather that they set down next to Samantha.
The first thing that they did was to apply a single sleeve of leather to each of Samantha’s arms. The close-fitting sheaths were laced tighter and the incorporated shackles at her wrist, above her elbow and at mid-biceps ensured she could not shed them. The featureless mittens at the end bunched her hands into balls and deprived her of all manual dexterity. As she felt the leather squeezing to her, Samantha’s breathing started to speed up and she felt a trance of submissive frenzy coiling within her.
The next part of her orchestrated and supervised devolution from slave to equine was the addition of thigh boots. Tom held her upright and stable while Thumper grabbed each one of her legs and forced the tall boots onto her.
Samantha gave a soft mew of displeasure as she found that each foot was now forced into a moulded extremity that resembled a hoof. Perched atop the fluted shoes she felt myalgia tightening her insole. She tried to wriggle free but Thumper swiftly lifted the zipper and tightened the buckles that added another set of assimilated restraints at her ankle, above her knee and at mid-thigh. Each of the leather bands on her arms and legs had the buckle on the outside and a ring riveted into place on the inside to assist in her captivity.
The two slaves then started to unfurl the main harness. The intricate and stern garments were suede-lined and supple while clearly still proving firm and unyielding.
A rigorous corset grabbed her waist. Samantha gave a gasp of sultry relish as it closed its leather fist and compressed her into its required steel boned shape. The corset released a set of straps that gathered around her upper torso and left her breasts bouncing and on full display. Three buckles at the base of the corset reached down across her loins, merged, and then slipped up between her buttocks. The straps then parted again so they might grab the sides and back of the corset.
The women applied short lengths of slim chain to restrict her motion. A brief set of links joined her ankles, another joined the bonds above her knees, and a third set grabbed the rings at the end of her mitts and pulled them up her back. The sleeves were attached to a fixture between her shoulder blades and Samantha gave some brief and fruitless challenges against the complex garment.
Samantha watched with a measure of amusement as a small strip of leather was buckled into place at the base of the corset. From the centre arose a short silver section of tubing that released a bushel of horsehair. The dark cascade fell down to the back of her knees and added a spectacular tail. The women ran their fingers through the strands to fan them out, then her metamorphosis continued.
The final part of her processing was her bridle and bit. The detailed implement was opened up and brought toward her face. Suddenly Samantha felt pangs of nervousness and started to shy away. The chains curtailed her steps and her arms could not escape the anchor at her back. There was nothing she could do to ward off the bit.
Tom grabbed her from behind in a firm lock that suppressed her reluctance and left her jostling from hoof-to-hoof. The leather embraced her head and the bit pressed to her lips.
Samantha shook her head from side-to-side to avoid the installation. In answer to this defiance, Tom moved her grapple higher and contained her agitated struggles. Thumper sank her fingers into Samantha’s cheeks and with a sudden flurry of warring intent Samantha was defeated and the stiff rubber bar sank into place. It pushed to the corners of her mouth and she instantly levied her tongue against it. She shoved to the intruder but could not defeat Thumper’s fingers. The acrid taste of the bit spread over her palate and she ground her molars upon the implement.
The numerous buckles started to cruise around her head and tighten. Across her forehead, around her skull, beneath her chin, it was like being assailed by some sort of insane leather octopus. The encroachment on her senses was starting to panic her a little more and her endeavours to escape Tom became more devoted. The woman contained her with ease. Even without her bondage, Samantha was no match for Tom’s considerable brawn.
A final addition was a leather muzzle. The moulded snout had two holes at the end, much like nostrils.
The e
xtended facial feature was swiftly buckled into place to hide her bit-filled maw from view. She again tried to evade the approaching garment but Tom denied her and it was set in place with little impediment. A buckled strap cupped her chin, and others grabbed the leather across her brow. Two fastenings reached out at the side and served to stop even the most energetic thrashings of her head from dislodging the artificial countenance.
Samantha breathed steadily down the snout and the air quickly became warm as her respiration heated the interior. The strong powerful scent of leather flowed down her nostrils and eased her worries by inflating her fetishist desires.
The sensations were confusing and overwhelming. She had been bound before, but this was different. Previously, her body had been controlled and she had no means to effect escape or rebellion, but now, her bondage travelled with her and made itself known with every breath and every movement.
A pair of tall pricked up leather ears were clipped to the sides of her head. The thick material lowered the volume of the outside world, making words a little muffled and harder to process. The ears were no doubt a consideration to assert her pony nature. She would have to rely on tone, reins, and crop to guide her. Her human intellect had been pushed back a little further.
“The blinder or the blinkers, Lady Morgana?” asked Thumper.
The slave held two squares of leather with snap fasteners in one hand. In the other, she held a blindfold with matching fasteners at the edges and a dense pelt of fur on the inside to press to her eyes and cut off all vision.
“I don’t want my pony getting unduly agitated this early into her career, so let’s have her in the blinder.”
Samantha flashed her stare to her owner as the device was brought up to her face. She kicked into her restraints and fought Tom with all her might. She did not want to be blindfolded. She wanted to see what was coming, what was occurring about her, so she could be prepared and steel herself for it. Her nervousness stemmed not only from the innate natural fear of being deprived of sight, but also because she still had some shreds of distrust in her. She could not know what Master Talon wished of her or how he would treat her. The loss of sight was a frightening abandonment to the mysterious and unpredictable whims of another human being. However, was Samantha herself even human anymore? At present, she bore no ability to handle anything, to speak, to walk unhampered, or in fact, to do anything that might be considered as evolved.
The “snick” of the blinder being pushed into place echoed through her ears and she sagged into Tom’s arms. She was now utterly abandoned to her fate. The feeling of resignation nurtured her submission and she started to find at least a small portion of pleasure in the curious event.
A set of reins was clipped to the metal rings at the side of her face. The rings held the bit between them and each movement of the reins efficiently steered her face. With the application of this final mode of control, the two slaves released her.
“Come, pony,” said Lady Morgana.
The reins tugged at her head and the crop stung her rear. Samantha gave a choked cry and swayed her hindquarters. The coarse horsehair brushed the exposed areas of thigh and tickled her skin. The crop was laid to her other buttock and encouraged some more swishes of the tail.
Another firm tug made her totter forward and a steady tow made her blindly follow her owner. Samantha tried to accustom to the footwear as quickly as possible. The flared heel that formed the rear of her hoof added to her stability, but her lack of sight made her unsteady and skittish.
Samantha was intimidated by Lady Morgana’s stride. Her owner was not walking particularly fast but it was still too swift for Samantha’s liking. She started to draw back and fight the reins, to try to slow her passage even just a little. She gained moments where she almost managed to stop but them Morgana tugged at the reins and made her stagger onward. The frightening totter forward increased her chagrin and made her fight even more forcefully to try to slow herself down.
“Stop struggling! Bad pony!” announced Lady Morgana and manifested her displeasure with a couple of stern swipes with the crop. One caught Samantha’s inner thigh and made her slap her legs together to ward against a repeat. The other two assailed her flanks then the rein gave another resolute yank. The hot zones on her skin coerced her into complying without further contrariness.
Samantha was taken along an anonymous route that ended with her heels clicking on tiles then onto a wooden ramp. The soft crunch of hay beneath her feet muffled the signal of timbers and she felt the reins flee. Chain was then attached to her bit, to rings on her shoulders, and lastly, to her ankles.
The blinder was peeled away and she meekly opened her eyes. Daylight brutalised them and she screwed them shut to defend her dark-dependent sight.
Stepping from hoof-to-hoof, she moved forward and immediately brushed against wood. Samantha instinctively tried to reach forward and see where she was but was prevented by the sleeves. She writhed against them in frustrated fury. The denial of the use of her arms was maddening. Touch was such a compulsory and expected ability and to find it absent was enraging.
With her eyes a little more used to the glare of daylight, she lifted her eyelids in small steps to gain a view of her surroundings. She had thought that perhaps she was in a stable that was attached to Lady Morgana’s home. Instead, she was alarmed to see that she was facing forward in a horse-trailer.
The streamlined outer shell had slim barred windows and the interior had lines of wooden planks for protection. Rings had been bolted to the planks at several locations. A length of chain reached forward and locked her to one, and more chains reached down from the roof to grab the rings on her shoulders.
Upon detecting the overhead restraints, Samantha lowered a little and found that they would stop her from falling over. It confirmed that she was indeed going to be shipped to a new location.
She shuffled her feet and found that they had very little slack because of the ankle chains that were now fastened to rings in the floor.
Samantha looked around at the bland interior and at the minor view of the outside world that she was afforded. She stretched and tested her bonds while wondering what was going to happen to her.
After an unknown duration, she heard another clatter of hooves on wood and Tobin was brought up beside her. He too was clad in the same pony outfit as her and was also blinded. His tail was a plume of blond and he was quickly fastened to occupy the post beside her. His ankles were set to the floor, his shoulders were grabbed, and the sides of his bit were fixed to the wall before them.
“Now you two be good while I’m gone,” said Lady Morgana with a broad grin. She treated them both to a couple of brisk swats of the crop before pulling off Tobin’s blinder and heading back out.
The two slaves looked at each other, their eyes submerged amidst the leather bonds that hid almost every portion of their features and which robbed them of easy speech. Side-by-side and yet an eternity away they could do nothing save wait and wonder. The glint of dismay in Tobin’s eyes suggested that he was just as much a novice in such play as Samantha, or that he knew full well what heartless rigours awaited them.
Either eventuality suited Samantha. She liked the idea of learning to be a pony with another virgin slave. It meant that she would not be the only inexperienced horse. In addition, if they were destined for stern use, then having another slave suffering with her would cement the strange perverse version of camaraderie that she held with Tobin.
A similar duration elapsed and they heard the stamping pound of another pony entering the trailer. Either Tom or Thumper was set behind Samantha then a short time later her partner joined her. The ramp was lifted up and bolted into place, cutting off a great amount of light.
Standing in twilight, bound and contained, Samantha listened to the soft jingle of buckles and chains all around her and the creak of leather as it suppressed struggles and movement.
The hearty growl of a large engine reached through
their erect ears and with a gentle lurch the trailer began to move off. The occupants swayed but were kept aloft by their shoulder straps. A moment later, they were leaned forward as the vehicle started down a steep hill and followed a winding rough road.
Soon afterwards, they were speeding up as they moved onto main roads and out of the woodland area. The tall metal sides of lorries and shipping containers passed by on one side, cutting off the sunlight in steady pulses as they hurtled toward their destination. The wind rushed around the interior, whipping the straw around their hooves and cooling their tight leather skins. Samantha found her concerns evaporating while she chewed on her bit and grew accustomed to her lot. The method of their transportation was greatly assisting in slipping slowly into the mind-set of a ponygirl. When they pulled off the main roads and started to slow down she had lost all inhibitions and was most eager to explore whatever this role offered.
The creak of brakes sounded and they were rocked forward against their many moorings as they came to a halt. The ramp dropped down and the sound of heels and boots sounded as people entered and started to remove them.
Tom, Thumper, then Tobin were taken out on the end of reins, and for a short time, Samantha remained forgotten in the trailer. Then she heard footsteps enter and stop immediately behind her.
“So this is the pony you spoke of?” asked a strong male voice.
“Of course, Talon. You think I’d forget to bring her?” answered Lady Morgana.
The interior attachments released her ankles, her shoulders, then her bit. A set of reins replaced the steel strands and she was pulled around to see her temporary Master.
Executive Enslavement Page 21
