Master Talon slid the handle of the whip into a slot in Tom’s attire and left it sticking up like an antenna. He then delved into his pouch and started to remove something. Samantha thought it might be some more grapes and she found herself salivating at the prospect of more treats. She was a little bemused when she saw a strange sort of remote control.
“Now, I know you’re obedient, but can you still obey under duress?” he pondered. “Left leg up, pony.”
Still wondering what was transpiring, Samantha did as she was told. Lifting her knee high, she held it there. She swayed for a moment as she sought to balance herself on one hoof, then just as she became stable she gave a startled wail. The two probes within her body suddenly released small charges of electricity. The nerves in her tracts obeyed the commands and started to clench in steady fits. Samantha wobbled on her heel as she felt the strange pleasurable sensations operating her sex and anus. Her stomach rippled and gave small spasms as she fought to endure the bizarre effects and keep her ordained stance.
“Steady, pony,” warned Talon on a stern growl.
Samantha’s elevated hoof started to wilt as she was stimulated. The bursts suddenly became a trio of stern jolts that made her body squeeze the metal intruders to almost painful degrees. Samantha released a squeal of anguish and hoisted the knee back up.
“Good, pony. Now hold that for a moment.”
Samantha screwed her eyes shut and fought to stay steady as creeping bliss continued to rage through her pussy and tighten her sphincter in succulent fits. It was astonishingly arousing. Her whole body was his to command. When the whip or bondage was not ruling her actions, he could use fiendish technology to take away even the most intimate control. With the push of a button he could replace her will and make use of her muscles. She felt so utterly abandoned to his whim and rule.
“Okay, now the other one,” he demanded.
The bursts paused and she was allowed to put the hoof down. As soon as she did so, the shocks returned with a greater frequency. The first shock made her leg shoot up and she lifted briefly onto tiptoe as the devices settled into a more delicate rate and strength.
Samantha mewled as she continued to fight to defeat the effects of the pleasure. She wanted to just drop to her knees, thrust her hindquarters up, and bury her snout in the grass. The pleasure was overcoming her ability to stay upright and remain still.
Her thigh started to heat as the muscles began to succumb to fatigue. The trembling limb lifted up higher as Talon gave her another of the shocking educational jolts.
“Now jog on the spot, pony,” he ordered.
Samantha started to strut on the spot. The probes slithered within her as they continued to blast her with steady delight. Her steps were even until Talon started to up the power of the infernal toys.
Samantha whimpered and gave purls of dismay as the devices made her pussy and sphincter twitch and grab the toys with forceful stimulating bursts. She was almost swooning from the effects of this bodily control and it took all her might to try to keep focused on the actions at hand.
Talon again upped the levels, and for the first time since her arrival on the ranch, Samantha felt words rising in her throat. She gnashed her teeth onto her bit and tried to keep from begging him to stop. The awful and delightful power of the toys continued to harass her with their singular and spectacular effects. Tears rolled down from her eyes and joined the sweat being conjured by her frozen gallop.
“Legs up, pony,” he said, and added another couple of severe spikes of influence.
“Okay, you can stop,” said Master Talon after having kept her going for a few minutes.
Samantha dropped her hooves to the grass and clenched her knees together as the toys continued with their radical internal toil.
“Stay still, pony. Chin up. Stand straight and stop slouching,” said Talon and again upped the venomous settings.
Samantha was in torment. She thrust her chest out and lifted her head as she gasped and panted. The probes were churning her with ecstasy and she could do nothing to stop them. Standing erect, fighting to retain a proud and defiant stance, she started to mew and sob as she felt a most stern climax approaching. Her loins were wet with libidinous frenzy as she felt the pleasure tightening the rest of her body. It took all her resolve to stop herself from starting to double over, or to drop back and fling her legs wide, throw her belly into the air and ride the bliss with screeches of unabashed rhapsody.
Testing her endurance to the full, Talon stopped during the final cataclysmic rise to release. Samantha froze and quivered as she was deserted in a storm of deprived relief. She was glad that she had been spared the ordeal of trying to stand still and precise while in the tornado of orgasm, but also she was hideously frustrated by the denial.
Her pussy continued to clench to the probe, the flesh seeming to have grown used to the artificially inspired rhythmic contractions. Now that the voltage had stopped, it was continuing out of tutored habit. Such movements extended her pleasure and kept her loitering in a most maddening zone of pre-orgasmic tension.
Talon took Tom’s reins and started to walk the pony around Samantha as she worked her way down from the sexual plateaus the probes had so readily delivered her to. His eyes were wide with voyeuristic cheer as he examined her sensual travail.
Samantha gradually managed to recover some semblance of normal respiration and the ecstasy seeped away and let her stand up a little straighter. The straits of her ordeal had left her in a frazzled torpor.
“Veeery good, pony,” he commented and reached out to pat her head. The pleasure of a well-earned compliment from having pleased him was superb compensation for denied orgasm. Talon leant over, stroked her head some more, then applied the reins.
Morgana came galloping over with Tobin in tow. She pulled on Thumper’s reins and brought the woman to a halt.
“All done?” she asked.
“For now,” replied Talon.
“How was she?”
“Superb.”
“Picnic time, then?”
“Why not,” he answered then looked back and over her shoulder. “Now where’s that damn maid? She should be here by now.”
“Why don’t you summon her,” said Morgana with a wicked smirk as she nodded toward the remote control.
“You think it has the range?” he wondered, and turned the device over in his hand.
“Only one way to find out,” offered Lady Morgana.
Master Talon smiled and turned a small dial at the top. Samantha caught a glimpse and saw that each setting had a name. The furtive glimpse she caught failed to distinguish the others, but from familiarity, she detected her own.
“Set it nice and high, Talon,” purred Morgana as she settled back and embraced herself with licentious contentment.
Talon adjusted the settings then let his thumb drift over the activation tab. After a moment to savour his control, he pressed down and the two dominants looked out toward the stable to see if there would be results. Talon lifted it high and aimed it toward the barn to see if an unobstructed beam had a better chance of success.
In just a few seconds, a diminutive woman in a vinyl maid’s outfit came charging from the interior. She held a hamper and she ran with a tremulous gait. Her thighs alternated between trying to keep apart and in clenching together during her sprint. Morgana and Talon laughed mischievously as they watched her scrambling forward, her long red curls bouncing and catching the sunlight. When she got closer, Samantha heard her whimpering and gasping.
As she arrived, she set down the hamper and dropped to her knees. Talon released the button and the woman visibly sagged with relief.
“Ah, there you are. We were wondering what happened to you, slave,” he said.
“S... sorry... Master.”
“That’s quite alright. Now bring the hamper, we’re going to take our picnic now.”
The woman wiped a few beads of perspiration from her brow an
d arose with the hamper in hand. Talon and Morgana kicked their steeds into motion and drew their play ponies out of the gate and toward a larger expanse of vacant field. They crossed the field and wandered along the tree line until they stopped at a place that suited them.
Overhanging branches created an area of hesitant shade where sunlight could still slip through a few chinks to warm the grass. They commanded the maid to set up and had their mounts lower.
The woman opened the hamper, threw out a blanket, and started to prepare an array of snacks and drinks.
Talon and Morgana drew their small herd of horses to a tree and tied their reins about some of the lower branches. After some brief strokes to reward their human equines, they returned to the picnic and sprawled out together to enjoy themselves. The maid remained on her knees to one side, handing them whatever they required with humble alacrity.
The distance between Samantha and her owner was just enough so that her false ears made discerning their conversation almost impossible. The two dominants talked for an hour or two as the ponies stood in silence. They looked at each other and the area, taking in the sights as best they could. Samantha often found herself regarding the maid.
Her petite form and innocent joyous face were a pleasure to simply study, like a pleasing work of art. Her subtle breasts were invitingly pressed beneath a layer of black PVC and the skirt that encompassed her body was stretched tight over shapely thighs. Her fishnet stockings entered low heeled court shoes and she sat with such alluring attention that Samantha found it hard to look anywhere else.
Tobin bumped into her and gained her attention. She looked along his snout and met his eyes. He brushed up against her and after rubbing his muzzle against hers, he turned his eyes to the maid. With a sense of companionship and regaled by the view, they moved closer together. Both fantasised about the girl as they gently nestled against each other.
A small trap pulled up and caught the distracted ponies by surprise. The vehicle was pulled by two luscious ponygirls in Lycra cat-suits. They had a dense array of leather strapping laid over the garment and the harness encompassed much of their physique. The outfits were embellished with numerous decorative pieces and each woman had a bright blue plume sprouting from the peak of her bridle. The rider was the owner of Daemon and he was apparently without his temperamental pony on this occasion.
“Hey, Joseph,” said Morgana.
“Where’s Daemon? I thought you wanted her to play with Samantha?” asked Talon.
“She’s learning a lesson in obedience in one of the more rigorous stalls.”
“The usual problem?” enquired Talon.
“As always. I swear she does it deliberately.”
“Is there any doubt?” he confirmed.
“Well, if she was looking for a long session of discipline, she’s definitely got it,” Joseph happily reported.
“Not stall eight?” asked Morgana with a sensuous tone.
“Yep.”
“Ooooh, she’s going to be sore tomorrow,” murmured Morgana as she stretched out across the blanket.
The projected image of Daemon in the enigmatic punishment locale was connecting admirably with her sadistic favour. All four ponies at the tree suddenly had the fear that they might end up providing a very real image to replace the imagined one.
“Tomorrow? Ha! Maybe the day after, or the day after that,” reported Joseph.
“You’re a cruel one, Joseph,” said Talon with a chuckle.
“Ah, she’ll think fondly of it once she’s recovered. Anyway, enough of that. I came over to ask if you wanted to join in the race.”
“Race?” asked Morgana.
“Kaleb and a few of the others are arranging a pony race.”
“Riders?” enquired Talon.
“No. A flat out run on that long straight course passed the track. We need a couple more ponies to fill out the last lanes.”
“Are we going to be gambling?” asked Morgana.
“Sure, if you’re ready to lose. Kaleb’s put Indra in the race,” reported Joseph.
“No doubt that’s why he’s arranging it,” said Morgana, and turned to Talon as she continued. “He wants to thrash everyone else’s steed and fan that boisterous ego.”
“So you’re not in?” asked Joseph with a vague air of disappointment.
“I didn’t say that. Give us a few minutes and we’ll be along. It’ll give Kaleb more time to strut about and gloat,” announced Morgana.
“See you there, then,” replied Joseph and whipped his ponies up into a swift gallop before he circled around and headed back toward the stables.
Chapter Seventeen
Samantha stood in a close metal stall. The row of booths stood at the starting line with automated gates ready to fly open and release the eager ponies. There were no illusions that she stood a chance of winning. Just so long as she did not come last, she was not that concerned where she finished.
The reason for this resignation to defeat was obvious. Indra was a woman whose significant muscles were readily visible even through the tight cat-suit of latex that embraced her entire body. The leather and metal harness and bridle completely hid her features and bore numerous lightning bolt symbols. The other competitors were clad in less constrictive attire, and clearly, Kaleb wanted Indra’s victory to be even more impressive due to her smothering and highly oppressive attire. Every movement displayed the ranks of thick physical might, and it was immediately obvious that they were not the bloated muscles of a weight lifter, rather these were muscles crafted from extensive use and harsh demands. Indra’s muscles were tight, potent, and sleek, but the sheer extent of her training had generated massive arrays.
All of the contestants had their arms fastened behind them in some form or another. Some had been back prayered, others had a single arm sheath, and some merely had their hands just clipped into position at the base of their spine. They all stood on hoofed boots and stared out along the long track and the lane that had been scheduled for them. At the far end was a stretched line of ribbon and along the fences were the owners, grooms, and hostlers. Standing ready to watch the race, they talked and commented on the various ponies while others placed bets.
A horn on the side of the starting gate blared and Samantha leant forward in readiness. Tensing her body, she fixated on the finish line and started to take deep long breaths.
The gates flashed open and the rank of human steeds dashed forward. Samantha’s long strides and pell-mell gait kept her amongst the forerunners, but soon her stamina was ebbing. Three girls started to pull ahead, then as they neared the end of the course, Indra exploded forward as a dart of incredible speed. She streaked passed and tore through the ribbon well ahead of everyone else.
Undaunted, Samantha continued her run and kept her eyes forward. When she cleared the finish line, she slowed to a jog then a walk before finally stopping, unaware of where she had come in the race. She leaned over and panted for breath while her pulse stamped mightily in her veins.
She became aware of some cheers and applause and stood up to see Talon approaching her. For a moment, she was tricked into thinking that it might have been for her, but it was immediately obvious that there had been others ahead of her.
“Nice run, pony. Not bad. A respectable fourth. You just nipped past Charger at the post.”
Attaching her reins, he pulled her aside and toward the stables. Samantha looked around and saw that bills were changing hands. It seemed that the real betting had been on positions two to five out of the twelve ponies involved in the contest. Placing wagers on Indra had been little challenge, and so everyone had concentrated on the more legitimate wagers.
“Come on, let’s get you hosed down,” he stated.
Samantha’s strut became more agile as she anticipated another glorious showering, and hopefully another period of stabling. The previous night had been an exquisite encounter with obliquity and she was looking forward to another.
Talon poured the chill cascade over her hot body, stripping away her heat with shocking speed. She frolicked in the spray and shook herself from side-to-side as she revelled in the feeling. He switched off the hose and allowed her to shake free all excess droplets before taking her toward the entrance.
Samantha was escorted to a different stall and the gate was drawn open to reveal a new location of bondage. There was a sturdy chain stretched between floor and ceiling. At waist height on this vertical strand of steel was a fat and very heavy collar of cast iron. The collar had a hinge on one side and a bolt on the other.
Talon brought her over and forced her to fight the corset and bend at her waist. Opening the latch, he put her head in and closed the hoop. Unable to rise and unable to lower to the floor, Samantha stepped from hoof-to-hoof as she wondered what his intentions were.
“Lady Morgana is calling your horsebox to take you back home. So I might not see you for a bit, pony. It’ll take a few minutes to arrive so I think we can have one quick farewell,” he stated as he unfastened her tail and tossed it aside.
A riding crop swept around and crossed her rear on a heavy swing. Samantha wailed against her bit and tried to jerk up. The chain prevented her and the crop returned to fill her anus with its wrath. Samantha cried out and threw her rear from side-to-side, trying to escape the accursed weapon. Talon merely followed her attempted evasion and kept swiping into her cavorting rear.
Samantha sought to throw herself to the floor but her knees would not reach. She tried to pull her arms free so she might undo the simple latch but the gloves remained firmly on her. Possessed by animal panic and response she squealed and thrashed as Talon gave her a most vigorous final taste of his sadism.
Talon cast the crop aside and with shaking hands unfastened his trousers. Hauling free his engorged shaft, Talon grabbed her hips and opened her buckles. He yanked out the probes then fed himself into her humid womb.
Executive Enslavement Page 26
