Slave Girls in Bondage
By Kilo
Chapter 68
Nancy could not see the flag drop, but Lori could. As soon as the scarf
began to flutter down, she snapped the whip against the brunette's bottomcheeks.
All that practice paid off as the tip of the whip snapped against the roundest
part of the ponygirl's left bottomcheek. The brunette captive jerked in
response. She knew what to do but before she could respond, Lori snapped the
whip against the other cheek. The obedient ponygirl leaped forward, her legs
moving as fast as she could.
Lori wanted to win. She did not know if she would be punished if Nancy
lost, and she did not know if she would be rewarded if she won. She just wanted
to win.
The result was that she continued to flick the whip against her targets.
One cheek, the other cheek. One cheek, the other cheek. As an Amazon she had
much experience using switch, paddles and whips on recalcitrant slave girls, or
free women who did not want to be slave girls.
One cheek, the other cheek.
Those who trained her would have been proud of how she worked.
One cheek, the other cheek.
A red mark appeared on Nancy's bottom as the end of the whip struck the
same spot again and again.
One cheek, the other cheek.
The brunette ponygirl's bottomcheeks jiggled continuously as she
frantically pumped her legs up and down.
One cheek, the other cheek.
The beautiful brunette would have squealed in the pain at the constant
beating on her bottom, but she was to busy gasping for breath as she ran
forward.
Running in high heels was not easy. Nancy had a good idea of just how
fast she could go without turning and ankle. No matter how much Lori used the
whip on her bottom, she could not run any faster.
Perhaps Lori knew that also but did not care.
One cheek, the other cheek.
Nancy followed the white stripe at her feet. Compared to her training
with the blinders on, this was easy. All she had to do was followed the stripe
in the oval around the track.
One cheek, the other cheek.
Nancy ran a good race, but finished third.
Tina practically jumped with glee at the failure of Canjac's ponygirl to
win.
"I guess you dropped a bundle on this race," she said with a giggle in
her voice.
"Actually I made only a minimum that. I did not expect her to win, just
to do a little better than this. I have high hopes for the consolation race."
The ponygirls were taken back to the stable so they could rest. Those
who had placed first or second in a qualifying lap would race in the final.
Those who did not would have another chance one of the consolation races.
Canjac had not trained Nancy to be a racing ponygirl. He did not plan
on her being a permanent ponygirl anyway. This was just another method of
convincing her that she wanted to be the most obedient slave girl possible.
Nancy had spent her time prancing around the town pulling the harness.
While she did not have speed, he hoped to her endurance would allow her to do
well in one of the consolation races. She had more stamina then the others, he
hoped.
Canjac studied the racing program.
"I need to check on my ponygirl," he murmured an apology as he stood.
"Better give her some vitamins," the beautiful blonde said with a laugh.
Canjac wondered what Tina would look like as a ponygirl girl while he
made his way toward the stables. The crowds were not as heavy as they had been,
many of the people watching the preliminary heats. His owner's pass enabled him
to pass through the gate with no problems.
He had to ask twice to get directions.
Eight ponygirls stood in a line to the left of the entrance track. They
looked like ponygirls. They were dressed and bound as ponygirls. Leather straps
and chains had them secured to sulkeys.
Were they truly ponygirls?
That was in the eye of the beholder.
The third race of the day was called "The Housewives' Scramble."
Yes, bored and beautiful housewives had agreed to race as ponygirls. The
lure to show off their abundant physical charms was irresistible. The women were
naked so no one looked at their faces. This was the perfect disguise. They could
flaunt their charms and no one would know who they were.
No one would know the names of most.
It seemed that everyone knew who Bobbette was.
As Canjac approached, they were measuring her chest. There was a logic
to this. How do you tell the difference between one naked woman and other? If
you don't use names, you have to have some other means.
They had secured Bobbette's arms behind her back in the same manner as
all the other ponygirls. The measuring device fit over her shoulders. Minor
adjustments brought a pair of points to her nipples. Another point touched her
chest between her boobs. The device touched her back. A pair of metal arms fit
partway under her arms.
With all the key dimensions noted, the device gave Bobbette's bust
measure.
That measurement was a lusty 87 centimeters. Her number for the race?
"87. 87DD."
They attached a large banner to her back. No, the multitude in the
stands might not know who she was, but they all would know her bust size. And,
at the same time, they would know why her boobs bounced the way they did when
she ran.
Not trained as a ponygirl, Bobbette would be at a disadvantage during
the race. The jockey welding the switch on her fanny would have to beat her
fanny hard and often.
Canjac moved away when he recognized a group of her friends moving
toward her. They were not part of his clique. He did not want to socialize with
them. He half-turned away so they would not recognize him, but he stayed close
so he could overhear them.
"Bobbette, you will be glad to know that we have a little reception
planned for you afterwards. A few drinks, a few pony rides. You know the
routine."
Canjac turned back toward her when he heard a squeal. Someone had
squeezed a bare tittie. Her reaction was normal. Her reaction also was futile.
"I'm sure you'll have fun."
She squealed again when he squeezed the other tittie.
"Now I know why they call it the 'Days of Squealing,' Canjac murmured to
himself as he head back toward his box.
"You missed the first race," Tina said with a hiccup. Canjac saw she was
on her second (or perhaps third) drink.
Before the second race, they had the second qualifying heat.
Nancy found herself back on the track. She was in the number two slot
this time.
Nancy had only to run to pull the sulky around the track. She had no
need to know what was going on in the race. She was unaware of Canjac's plan
for her. All she knew was that she was ready to run again, and that the whip
would be pounding against her bottom again.
The dildo ramp up into the slave girl's pussy. The flag dropped down.
Lori flicked the whip against the ponygirl's bottom.
One cheek, the other cheek.
Nancy started forward again at a run. Her starting position was so far
back that she actually could see another ponygirl before her on the right.
Because her route was shorter, she gradually pulled ahead so that pony girl
disappeared from side.
One cheek, the other cheek.
Nancy did not know she had qualified for the semifinals.
Tina's lower lip protruded in an adorable pal that she used whenever she
was not getting her way. She did not want Canjac's ponygirl to win.
"I trust you bet against Nancy," he said with a smile. He motioned for
the slave girl to bring Tina another drink.
The baby-faced blonde just sat there with her arms folded across her
chest. This was not turning out though way she planned.
"What about Tiffany?"
"Why don't we wait until the end of the race, or are you planning on
leaving early."
"I thought I might leave now."
If she left now, she would disrupt his plans. That did not matter
though. He always had a backup plan.
"Why don't you just drop Tiffany off at my compound? I have a couple of
men waiting for you to bring her. Just tell them who you are in they will know
what to do."
With the blonde gone, to Canjac could sit back and enjoyed the
semifinals.
The Housewife Scramble occurred immediately after the beautiful blonde
left. Canjac motioned the slave girl over. She expected him to place an order
for another drink, but instead, he pointed toward the floor at his side. He
knelt so close to him that he could fondle her titties with his right hand.
"I bet you would just love being out in one of those races."
Of course, that slave girl did not. She leaned closer to Canjac to make
it easier for him to fondle her love mounds. She did not want to upset him so he
would make such a suggestion to the management of the track.
Bobbette, of course, finished last, a dismal last, at that. From the
laughter in the rows behind his box, he could tell that the naked woman's
performance met with satisfaction with those who knew her.
He could not make out how red her bottom was, but he had seen the jockey
flailing away at the naked bottomcheeks with the whip.
It was time for the semifinals. Nancy was in the fourth Lane on this
race.
The flag fluttered down. The six ponygirls in the race lunged forward.
Because she was so far out from the center and had started so far back, it was
difficult to tell how Nancy did in comparison to the others. As they entered
the homestretch, Canjac could see she was barely half a meter behind the leader.
Nancy finished second.
She had qualified for the finals.
"Too bad Tina that did not stay around. I would have gotten a kick out
of her pouting," he said to the kneeling slave girl. He contemplated using the
luscious blonde as a ponygirl, but it was nothing more than a brief fantasy. He
had other plans for her, plans that would make her wish she was a ponygirl.
Other ponygirls might have been faster, but Nancy had the endurance.
Forty-five minutes later, she was back on the track for the finals.
Again, the flag fluttered down. Again, six jockeys used their whips on
the bare bottom of the six ponygirls. Six ponygirls pulling sulkys, lunged
forward. The whips did not ceased during the entire time around the track.
Nancy finished second again.
Canjac had bet little on the race. It was not winning the money that
mattered. It was watching a good slave girl in action.
He headed toward the stable to congratulate Lori on doing a good job.
To Nancy he would say nothing. She was a ponygirl. She had done what
she was trained to do.
Before he could reach it, he was accosted by two different individuals
interested in buying Nancy. She had performed well enough for the professionals
to be interested in her as a racing ponygirl. Canjac, of course did not sell
her. Had it not been necessary to get her to run quickly, he would not have had
wore used the way up on the brunette's fanny. He knew what they would do to a
ponygirl to train her.
He had other plans for Nancy, plans that would began that night.
Canjac arrived at his compound ahead of the others. Lori and Nancy, and
the two French Maids, came with the wagon. He had other things to take care of
before they arrived. The first step was to give orders on what to do with
Nancy.
There was a purpose for making her run in this race. She would enjoy
being a ponygirl, just so she could be a slave girl.
So, you're probably wondering: What happened to Tina?
When Canjac entered the room, she did not know whether to be frightened,
or happy to see him. She was not too bright. She should have been frightened.
After all, who else was responsible for her present predicament?
The blonde stood spreadeagle in the center of one of his training rooms.
Her clothes were long gone, as a matter of fact; they had disappeared shortly
after her arrival with Tiffany.
Canjac had other clothing for her. The shoulder-length gloves were pink
satin and matched the shade of her high-heeled sandals. The garterbelt was much
the same color motif with pink satin. Lining the edges in front were delicate,
white lace ruffles. Even the duct tape sealing her mouth was the same shade of
pink. (Yes, the company that made the shoes made the duct tape.) Except for the
sheer beige stockings, she wore nothing else.
But then again, what else did she need to wear?
Leather cuffs about her wrists and ankles were secured to chains so
anyone entering the room would have an unobstructed view of her body. She could
do nothing to provide herself with any modesty.
The only thing she was missing was a slave collar.
When she saw him, she grunted at him through the ballgag.
"Oh, there you are, Tina, I thought you might stay around for a while."
She grunted something at him. He guessed it was not a "thank you."
"It seems that there was some kind of irregularity about Tiffany's
papers. The authorities are looking for you for illegally enslaving a free
woman."
No grunt this time, only a cold stare with those beautiful blue eyes as
she realized she had been tricked.
He stepped back to pick up a slave collar. As he moved back toward her,
he held it up so she could read the inscription on the golden disk dangling down
in front.
"Slave Girl Tina."
"Once we have the paperwork taken care of tomorrow, this will be yours."
Canjac moved closer so he could run his hand down her back and across
her bare bottom. He then turned his attention to those marvelously large
titties of hers. Slowly his hand crossed her flat tummy on the way to her
crotch.
"Besides, Tina, you are too beautiful to be allowed to run around
without a slave collar on. I know that you consider yourself the most beautiful
woman in town, and that may be, but you will look so much more beautiful dressed
as a French Maid."
He moved to a cabinet to retrieve a black leather discipline helmet. He
held it up for her to see.
"This is one of the most severe discipline helmets they make. Not only
will you not be able to see, but you won't be able to hear anything either. I'm
going to put it on your head, and leave it on for a couple of days."
The blonde shook her head violently.
"I was just kidding. I'm going to put it on you until tomorrow morning.
When I take it off, I expect you to provide me with a list of every man whom you
have taunted, teased or otherwise humiliated. I have my own list. I've been
watching. I've been listening. For every name you miss from my list is another
night you spend with the discipline helmet on."
He held the discipline helmet in his right hand. The fingers of his left
moved around in her pubic hair so the curls were wrapped about them. She knew it
would hurt if he pulled.
"You can't guess how much it raises you value since you are a natural
blonde."
He laughed as pulled the helmet over her head. Tina, of course, tried to
stop him by wiggling her head about, but it all did not good. He quickly had it
strapped in placed. He then tightened all the straps to insure it was on.
"Good night, Tina," he said, knowing full well that the captive could
not hear him.
Already she could not speak because of the tape gag. The leather across
her face kept her from seeing. She discovered that the many straps he had
fastened pulled the leather snug against the sides of her head so she could hear
nothing.
She continued to struggle, but long before dawn, she began compiling the
list he demanded from her.
Canjac went to his office to take care of some paperwork while he
awaited the arrival of his slave girls.
Nancy fully expected to be returned to the stable area where she was
stabled with the other ponygirls. She had developed a sense of comfort being
locked up in a stall. There was a sense of security in being strapped to a
wagon, or having some man hold her leash.
She had forgotten what it was like to be a free woman.
She began to tremble with fear as they removed the ponygirl harness from
about her head. They inserted a ball gag in her mouth to keep her quiet.
She was only a slave girl so she had nothing worthwhile to say.
The man led her across the high bay area and down a hall. She was not
certain whether she had ever been in this part of the building before. She had
always been in the high bay area or the stables. She had not been in the area
where the other slave girls were trained and used.
The man tethered her to a ring beside a door. She trembled with fear
when he left her alone. Nancy looked around, wondering what was in store for
her now. She hoped she would not be spanked for not winning the race. She
thought she had been punished enough as her bottom burned from the constant
beating during the race.
She rationalized that if anyone should be punished for her not winning
the race, it should be her jockey for not using the whip on her enough.
The man returned with a pair of French Maids at the end of leashes. He
led them into the room, ignoring the beautiful brunette for the moment.
In a couple of minutes he opened the door to take the end of Nancy's
leash.
The French Maids were ready for her. The man tethered her to a ring
dangling down from the ceiling. At his signal, the two went to work dressing her
as her master wanted.
Nancy looked down as the two French Maids knelt at her feet to remove
the hooved high heels. As soon as they had them off, one retrieved a pair of
sheer black stockings, while the other got a black satin garterbelt. The
beautiful brunette raised her left leg in the air to help the slave girl get the
stockings on. While she did that, the second French maid fastened the
garterbelt about Nancy's hips.
With the stocking up to mid-thigh, the first French Maid picked up the
second stocking to begin work on the brunette's right leg. The second French
Maid, kneeling behind Nancy, smoothed out the wrinkles in the stocking and made
certain the seam was straight. She then attached the tops of the stockings to
the snaps dangling down from the garterbelt. She adjusted the length of the
straps so the stocking was on perfectly.
By the time she finished, the first French Maid already had the other
stocking on. Moving her legs a little bit to the right, she went to work on the
other stocking, smoothing it out and fastening it to the garterbelt as she had
the first. The shoes were black patent leather sandals with fifteen-centimeter
stiletto heels.
The two worked quickly. While the second finished with the stocking,
the first retrieved a pleated, black satin miniskirt. The two fastened it about
Nancy's hips over the garter belt. The skirt was so short that it barely covered
her pubic hair.
Working together, they quickly attached a black satin halter-top to the
brunette's upper body. Though the shiny material covered her nipples, the
remainder of her bosom seem to want to pop out. The outfit was designed to give
the impression that if the wearer took a deep breath, her titties would explode
into view.
Nancy's hands were handcuffed behind her back. They removed the
handcuffs, but immediately want to work on her arms with a black leather
singleglove. From her wrists to her upper arms, they threaded the laces
together, drawing the edges of the material together. The straps at the top
crossed in back in passed over the shoulders and under her arms where they were
fastened to the single glove. The miniskirt had a black leather belt. In back
was a metal ring. To it they locked the ring at the end of the singleglove.
She was helplessly bound without any means of protecting her body.
The French Maids' work was done. The man handcuffed their hands behind
their backs and tethered them facing the wall.
He led Nancy over to a full-length mirror so she could get a look at
herself.
The reflection she saw and the nearer was that of a very beautiful slave
girl.
He moved her around so she could see just how beautiful and sexy she was
from every angle. Canjac wanted Nancy to know that every man in the place would
want to avail themselves of her body.
At the door to Canjac's office he fastened a blindfold over her eyes.
When Canjac was ready, he led her into his office using the leash and
positioned her so she faced a straight-backed chair. As she had been trained,
she stood with her legs spread far apart, inviting her master to take advantage
of her helplessness.
Standing next to the chair, he dropped his pants. He removed the leash
before sitting down. With his hands on her hips, he drew her forward. The only
way she could move forward was to spread her legs wide so she straddle his legs.
He moved his legs apart, forcing her to sit with her legs spread.
She felt his hands under her short skirt, feeling her swore bottom. The
hands moved on top of her thighs and down toward her pussy. She wanted him to
play with it.
She was a slave girl. What she wanted did not matter.
His hands moved from her crotch to her chest. Slowly he pulled down and
out on the material, exposing her titties.
He needed the large supple mounds with his hands, rubbing his thumbs
over the nipples to make them heart. He then rolled the nipples back and forth
between his thumbs and index finger.
"Raise yourself up."
He pulled her body toward him so she could impale herself on his rigid
cock.
"Mmmmmmmmmm."
She tried to raise herself in the air, but he grabbed her by the hips so
she could not move.
"Don't move without my permission."
He planted his mouth on her left nipple. He licked it slowly, after all,
it was still early in the evening.
Nancy put her head back. With all her my she tried to draw her legs
together, she wanted some action down there in her pussy. He had her bound and
helpless. He controlled what kind of pleasure she had.
She felt his mouth moved from the left nipple to the right.
"Mmmmmmmmmmm."
She twisted about in her bondage. Nothing she did could relieve the
building tension in her body. She wanted to be used as a slave girl. That was
her only wish in the world.
His mouth moved back to the left nipple.
She only wanted to be a slave girl.
The whimpering told him she was ready.
"Now."
Pressing her thighs against his, she raised herself in the air.
Spreading her legs, the weight of her body drove her body down on his shaft,
then using her legs, she lifted herself in the air. Again, she went back down.
Up and down, up and down.
Nancy had to do all the work.
She had more pleasure than she ever thought imaginable. She came three
times before Canjac did.
He had more plans for the beautiful slave girl.
Nancy stood trembling while he removed her singleglove, replacing it
with a simple pair of handcuffs. They were only temporary.
The gag came off, but was replaced by a ballgag harness that had its own
blindfold. He buckled the strap behind her head before removing her blindfold.
She could see for only a few seconds. That was all the time it took for him to
secure the new blindfold in place.
There were more straps to the harness that allowed him to bind it
securely about her head. With the rubber ball pulled deeply into her mouth she
could not utter more than a grunt. The strap about her head held the eye pads
tightly against her eyes so she could see nothing. The chinstrap forced her to
bite down on the rubber ball.
He led her into the hall, guiding her by using both hands on her
shoulders.
"Spread your legs apart real wide."
Once she had assumed the desired position, he ran a chain across the
floor to each leg. At the end of each was a leather cuff that he wrapped around
an ankle. When he finished, she could not pull her legs together.
The handcuffs came off.
"Bend over. Arms out in front of you."
He put his left hand under her upper chest to guide her since she could
not see where her hands were going. A meter and a half before her was a wall.
She rested her hands on it.
Running across the wall several centimeters below was a chain with a
pair of shackles a meter apart. He adjusted the position of her hands to fit the
shackles about them.
She could not rise up from this position.
His left hand fondled her left tittie.
His right slid under the short skirt, reminding her that in this
position her pussy was exposed.
"Do you know what this position is for?"
The captive nodded.
"If you are a good ponygirl, you get rewarded. Do you want that?"
She nodded again.
He attached a cowbell to the chinstrap.
"Nod up and down."
The bell clanged.
"Keep doing that if you want someone to come."
Canjac walked away, the sound of the cowbell sounding behind him.
