The Lost Prince--A Ponygirl Epic

CHAPTER THIRTEEN-RENDEZVOUS

S'Leah sat on the wooden bench and waited. Her benefactor had told her her target would be easy to spot, of the royal bloodline, and would be taking a stagecoach this day north to Greenwood.

When she'd arrived in IronHeart the day before she'd quickly learned that all the stagecoaches arrived at and departed from the coach terminal, a small white clapboard building near the center of town. The road between IronHeart and Greenwood was busy enough for there to be regularly scheduled coaches, three a day in each direction. However, there was no way for her to know which coach her target would be on.

S'Leah learned the coach schedule within minutes of arriving in town early in the evening the day before. After securing a room for the night at a small inn she wandered her way through town, thinking she might come across her target by chance.

IronHeart was a small rural town where most of the residents seemed to know one another. They tended to have small, neat houses on large plots, and just about everybody tilled their own gardens, some small, some massive. There was a cooperative in town where they sold their produce.

Their main street was short, lined with small businesses mostly, with only one saloon. The townspeople seemed a friendly sort, dressed mostly in expensive cotton or other light fabrics. S'Leah quickly found out a lot of the residents grew cotton, and this was one of the few places in the West where it wasn't astronomically expensive.

She saw only a few slaves, and only a handful of men, all old. It was quite a shock when she came across a group of twenty or so young men, barely more than boys, exiting a restaurant. They were loud and boisterous and guarded by at least half a dozen armed chaperones. All the females on the street stopped and stared at the young men as they were herded into their hotel in the growing dusk.

"Wouldn't you just love to jump in the middle of that group," a woman close to S'Leah said. She wore a dreamy look on her face. "All that fertile seed, just waiting to get out. I bet half of them are still virgins."

A nearby middleaged woman nodded. "I'm wet just thinking about it," she said.

"Those guards have the whole second floor sealed off and guarded," another woman announced. "And now after seeing them I'm going to have to go home and choose between my limp seventy-year-old handyman and a doorknob."

"I heard that." Laughter echoed up and down the street as the women drifted off in different directions. S'Leah learned later the young men were on their way to one of the inseminariums to the northwest, doing their part for the survival of the kingdom.

S'Leah checked the lobby of both the town's inns, the saloon, and a small restaurant. No sign of anybody that might have the royal blood in their veins.

The few local whores in the saloon were such poor specimens it took all of S'Leah's willpower not to show them everything they were doing wrong. The dozen or so seedless men inside looked to be miners on their way to or from JoTown. Why the local women outside on the walk, complaining, didn't come in here and slut themselves for free S'Leah didn't know. Sure, these miners were undoubtedly sterile, but so were the women probably, and a penis was a penis.

She, however, needed to get up early and stay focused, so the miners never got to know what they missed. At seven a.m. sharp she was inside the terminal watching to see who got on the eight o'clock northbound coach. It would have helped if she'd had a description of her target, or at least knew the sex of the person, but that apparently wasn't going to happen.

Four people got on the eight o'clock coach bound for Greenwood. One scruffy miner type, one portly middleaged man she'd seen working at the local produce co-op, and two women.

The older woman was in her fifties and very expensively dressed. S'Leah drifted her direction, wondering if she could be the one. However, as soon as she opened her mouth S'Leah knew it was a false alarm. Between her twang and dubious grammar there was no way she could ever be a member of the royal line. With her was a chunky, large-breasted woman in a faded buttonfront dress. Her face was round and plain, and it was hard to guess her age from the lack of expression, but S'Leah guessed she was in her thirties. The older woman introduced her as her new housemaid.

"Winifred Guilder, an old friend of mine, just died," the woman told the portly man. "Apparently in her will she gave me her housemaid Nellie here."

"Winifred Guilder?" the man mused. "I believe I met her a few times. Charming woman. I'm Burt Denby, with the Co-Op."

"I recognize you Mr. Denby." The matron sighed. "I really don't know what I'll do with her. I already have two maids and a very capable little bedwarmer."

The first stagecoach of the day rolled up, pulled by a mismatched team of eight. They'd come from the east the day before and overnighted in the stable. Now they looked fresh, ready for the trip north. Three blacks, four tans, and one skittish young waif who seemed fresh to the bit.

The matron continued. "I don't need another mouth to feed. I'm afraid Winifred, bless her soul, spoiled her. Just look how big she is."

S'Leah eyed the two women. The matron was as big if not bigger than the young housemaid.

"Ma'am," the young miner spoke for the first time. "I know you don't know me, but I just finished my six month stint at the JoTown mine. With my stake from it and what I've saved up from other jobs I was going to buy a small house in Greenwood and go to work at the gravel pit. I've got a position all lined up. Now, I don't know how much you want for her, but I am going to have some cash left over, and I prefer a woman with some chest."

"Why, young man! What did you say your name was?"

"Arthur, ma'am. Arthur Douglas."

"Well, Mr. Douglas, I would hate to sell to someone when I don't even know if she as any skills beyond cleaning an old woman's tiny house, and I know after six months working hard in JoTown your first concern isn't going to be how well she cleans. My goodness, I wouldn't even know what to charge. The last girl I bought was Ariel, my bedwarmer, and she was only three at the time."

"I'm familiar with the going rates," Burt Denby interjected. "If you're truly interested in doing business with this gentleman."

The stagecoach driver jumped down and opened the door for them. The conversation continued as they climbed inside. Throughout the exchange Nellie never spoke or changed expression, but as soon as the former miner expressed an interest in buying her she kept her eyes on him.

"It's a six hour ride to Greenwood," Douglas pointed out as they found their seats. He was next to Denby and across from the chunky housemaid. "There's no rush."

"Plenty of time for her to demonstrate any skills apart from cleaning she might have," Denby felt obliged to point out, with a pointed look at the matron. She raised an eyebrow, then pursed her lips and took the time to study the miner carefully.

"How old are you, Mr. Douglas?" she asked. "If you don't mind my asking?"

"Twenty-seven, ma'am."

"Twenty seven," she mused, giving him a very pointed look head to toe. "And very fit, from your time in the mine, I imagine. Six hours? Perhaps we can come to some sort of an arrangement, you seem well mannered."

The coach driver finished strapping the last of the luggage to the roof and jumped down. When he closed the door the remainder of the conversation was lost to S'Leah, who'd returned to her spot on the bench. But she saw the Matron reach up and undo the knot holding the neck of her white cotton blouse closed, revealing ample cleavage packed into a wire reinforced white cotton bra. And as the driver climbed up to his seat and picked up the reins, before, with a jerk, the team started off, S'Leah saw the matron crook a finger at the young miner across the cabin from her, while the housemaid watched with a smile on her face. S'Leah shook her head in distaste and leaned back on the bench.

"Old Lottie thinks Nellie's slow. That ain't it. It's just that she's had nothing but old fish to eat twice a day for ten years. That boy's going to get a bargain," a voice announced.

S'Leah looked over to see the ticketseller, a wizened old man with only half his teeth, grinning widely at her. "How long you goin' wait?" he asked. "Maybe your friend don't show up."

She stood up. "I'll be back for the noon stage," she told him.

When S'Leah's target walked into the station there was no doubt in anyone's mind that she was of the royal bloodline. She strode into the station as if she owned it, looking at nothing, speaking to no one, with a haughty air and an aura of unapproachability.

She was pale and slender, with short spiky jet black hair brushed down to frame her face. She wore an odd top that was half short robe and half jacket. The oddly stiff white robe covered her to mid-thigh and –forearm. It clung tight to her torso, but gaped open several inches, just barely covering her small breasts. Her white skirt ballooned oddly and reached to just above her knees.

The royal stopped in the center of the small waiting area and looked around disinterestedly. An aide, leading two pets by the leash, followed her into the building.

The aide was very pretty, with long brown hair drawn up into a bun atop her head. Her heart-shaped face was heavily accented with makeup—cheeks rouged, lips a deep glossy crimson, lashes too long and thick to be natural. A black rubber ballgag was wedged deep into her mouth, exposing brilliant rows of perfect teeth.

A stiff black corset was laced tight around her middle, reducing her waist to enviable dimensions. The corset forced her to thrust out her small breasts with their tiny pink nipples, and accentuated the curve of her hips. The knee-length shiny black rubber skirt she wore was so tight she couldn't move her knees more than an inch apart—she shuffled more than walked toward the ticket counter in her black five inch toeboots. As she passed S'leah saw that the skirt was backless, a large oval exposing the aide's creamy ass to the air. The opening was barely large enough, the rubber pushing her soft cheeks together.

She shuffled to the ticket window, pets in tow, and used sign language to tell the clerk how many tickets she needed. While she paid with bills from inside her corset S'Leah studied the two pets she had leashed.

Both women were outfitted identically, one in blue, one in green. Their heads were encased in rubber hoods, obviously custom molded to their heads without a gap or wrinkle. The rubber hugged their skulls so tightly S'Leah wondered if they were bald underneath, but quickly dismissed the idea.

The women were totally blind inside the hoods, which had no openings whatsoever for their eyes. There seemed to be nostril holes in the hoods, but S'Leah couldn't be sure. Over the hood each woman was fitted with a cylinder gag, ventilated in the center with a small hole.

At first glance both pets looked very busty, but S'Leah quickly realized they were wearing one-piece restrainer jackets with internal sleeves, and what she'd thought were large breasts were just the women's arms crossed across their chests and drawn tight. The garment's sleeves were internal so S'Leah had to assume the sleeves ended in mittens that were locked together behind the women's backs. The thick rubber sheaths were zipped up the back, the zipper locked to their stiff leathyr collars. The hoods were also attached to the collars, each of which had a chrome ring in front where the leash was attached.

The pets' one piece jackets were cut high on the hip, making their bare legs appear even longer than they were. The restrainers left their buttocks bare, split and spread slightly by a thick strip of rubber. Each wore ankle-high toe boots that matched the others' jacket in color. The boots were the tallest S'leah had ever seen.

After purchasing the tickets the aide shuffle-stepped to within a few feet of her Mistress, to the rear, pets in tow. They responded immediately to the subtlest tugs on the leash. They moved silently, just the tik-tok of their boots and the occasional squeak of rubber.

S'Leah stood and walked past them, hearing the faintest huff of their breathing through the perforated gags.

"Get tired of waitin', girlie?" The wizened ticketseller squinted up at her. He eyed her tailored, traditionally cut two-piece suit she'd bought the night before, on a hunch. It was what a refined eastern businesswoman would wear, someone who dealt with numbers or cash. It was charcoal grey, with a tapered three button jacket over a white blouse with ruffled collar and pleated slacks. The clerk had sold her the matching black leathyr pumps at a discount. The tightly tailored suit showed off her plentiful chest and athletic build but gave her the air of respectability she'd been looking for. Her battered bag went into a used but serviceable leathyr valise that was much more appropriate.

"One," was all she said. He gave her a wink and started making out the ticket as she handed over more of her shrinking was of bills.

Why this royal didn't have her own team and coach S'Leah didn't know. It didn't look like she was enjoying the thought of riding on public transportation, but maybe this one always looked bored and slightly annoyed.

In a few minutes the noon coach pulled up outside. It was pulled by a matched team of eight, not identical but close enough in looks for S'Leah to assume they were sisters. Working mares, not for show. Their faces were blocky and unattractive, topped by coarse manes of black hair. Small, flat breasts, wide hips, and legs chunky with muscle but bulging with unsightly veins. The driver was a wiry, spunky little brunette quite a bit younger than S'Leah. She hopped down and opened the carriage door.

"Baggage?" she asked, as S'Leah drew close. S'Leah held up her valise as an answer and climbed inside.

"I have three trunks on the other side of the building," the royal spoke for the first time. Her voice was unremarkable, with a slight eastern twang. The driver nodded, holding the door open as the royal climbed delicately into the carriage. She sat facing S'Leah. Then the driver ran off for the trunks.

The aide led the two pets to the doorway. With gentle touches she had them enter one at a time, first tapping their calves to let them know they would have to step up, then touching their heads so they would bend over to fit through the doorway. The aide got them arranged on the far side of the carriage, kneeling on the floor facing one another, then stepped outside to help the driver with the trunks. Each was big enough for S'Leah to curl up and fall asleep in, and appeared heavy. They were on a wheeled cart that the driver pushed up outside the door. The aide pointed out a button on the handle. When the driver pushed it the cart began rising on telescoping supports to the level of the coach's roof. The driver clambered up and with a series of loud thumps slid the trunks over and then tied them down. While she was doing this the aide entered the coach and knelt on the floor near the door. Soon the driver had the load secured, hopped down to shut the door, then scrambled up to her perch. With a "Hyaah!" they were off.

The slender woman across from S'Leah stared out the window with a bored expression on her face while her three companions silently swayed in place as the coach rumbled along the northern road. S'Leah set her valise on the seat beside her and valiantly tried to engage the woman in conversation.

"Travel this route often?" was met with the briefest of uninterested glances.

"Are you having some trouble with your own team or do you normally travel by coach?" didn't even get a response, she just kept staring out the window. S'Leah glanced down at the aide, who was staring at her curiously. She looked around the interior, and focused on the matched set kneeling on the floor.

"Your pets are shapely," S'Leah said slowly, "but I don't see what good they are, all bound up like that. Especially traveling."

The royal slowly turned her head and regarded this woman in the expensive suit. Her gaze dropped to S'Leah's feet and worked upward slowly, finally returning to S'Leah's face.

"They are bound," she said finally, choosing her words, "for my amusement."

"Oh," S'Leah said innocently. "So they can't see at all. Can they hear us?"

The woman rolled her eyes and went back to looking out the window.

"Because I would think they can hear us pretty clearly," S'Leah went on, watching the pets. "Now, their arms are obviously bound, and they can't see, but—"

"They are quadruple plugged," the royal said in exasperation. "Dildos front and back, built into the restrainer. Gagged. Nasal tubing. And liquid rubber poured into their ears. They can't hear a thing."

All of them swayed as the coach rolled over rough ground. S'Leah watched the two pets kneeling on the floor. They were kneeling with their buttocks resting on the heels of their toe boots, backs straight and chins up. The enclosed space was beginning to fill with the scent of leathyr and rubber, which always brought a flood of memories to S'Leah of her time in the stables.

"Well," S'Leah said finally, "I guess they're at your mercy. It's too bad they're all covered up. Can't really do anything but look."

"What would you do?" The royal for the first time expressed a hint of interest.

S'Leah eyed the pets, running her gaze up and down their covered forms, then shrugged nonchalantly and stared out the window at the passing scrubland.

"Does it matter?" she said offhandedly, and would say no more.

Not quite three hours into the trip, near the halfway point, the coach stopped for ten minutes. The driver jumped down and began watering her mares, one at a time, unhooking their bits and letting them suck on the end of a squeeze bottle.

The aide opened the coach door and carefully led the pets out into the sun. S'Leah followed, stopping to stretch beside the open door. She watched the aide lead the two long-legged pets off the road into the stunted scrub. The pets moved into wide-legged stances facing away from the road, and the aide reached down between their legs, one at a time, and removed the plugs from the restrainers' built-in catheters.

Thus uncorked, thick streams of urine erupted from the rubberclad mounds of the two pets, and they visibly relaxed. The rushing streams continued at length, and S'Leah surmised that the pets' bladders had over time become stretched through deliberate overfilling until their capacities were far in excess of what was normal. Finally the sparkling streams faded to trickles, then drips, then stopped. The aide bent over and reinserted the plugs into the catheter openings, then led the pets a short distance away and started them doing squats to keep their legs toned.

S'Leah wandered over to the two dark circles in the dirt. She turned sideways to the coach, unbuttoned the front of her trousers, and fished out her penis. With an effort she forced out a thin stream, which darkened another circle of dirt. She shook off, rebuttoned, then, taking off her dressy jacket, wandered around the scrubby shoulder of the road. With just a thin white blouse on her back the desert heat was barely noticeable.

When the driver was done watering her mounts she rebitted them, checked their leathyrs for cracks, then climbed back into her seat. S'Leah was the last into the coach, retaking her place on the bench across from the royal. The aide and her pets were in their former places on the floor and the team huffed into motion.

"You should have mentioned you were extra-ordinary," the royal said idly. S'Leah knew she'd been watching out the coach window as she'd relieved herself.

"It rarely comes up in idle conversation," S'Leah said with a smile. "M'Lady."

The royal opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, changing her mind. "I'm sure. We've never been formally introduced. I'm Princess Sucette Souillon, of Clan Mastix, fourteenth in line."

S'Leah bowed her head. "I'm honored."

The Princess' eyes dipped quickly to S'Leah's crotch, so quick she almost missed it. She licked her lips.

"Feel free to use my pets for your entertainment," the Princess said. "They have naught else to do."

S'Leah bowed her head again. "A most generous offer. However, I feel I must restrain myself, as I don't know what your highness would consider…inappropriate," S'Leah said. Her words intrigued Souillon, which had been their intent.

The Princess snapped her fingers, and the aide opened her small bag and presented it to her mistress. From it the Princess withdrew a length of slender rubber tubing. She fit one end of the black tube into the hole in one of her pet's gags, where it fit snugly. Then, undoing snaps between her legs—S'Leah still couldn't figure out what kind of garment it was—the Princess reached her hand inside holding the free end of the rubber tube. After a few seconds she removed her hand, but the tube stayed in place, disappearing up between her legs. The Princess leaned back, and spread her arms along the top of the bench back.

"They are fifth generation pets, born to the leash and cage," she said. "They know nothing but to serve. You would be hard pressed to do anything to them that I would consider inappropriate."

S'Leah could hear the pet swallowing, and watched her throat muscles move up and down. After a while that ceased, and the Princess reached between her spread thighs to remove the tubing. She lifted it up high, to make sure no urine remained in the rubber tubing, then unplugged it from her pet's mouthpiece and handed it to her aide. The aide deftly coiled the black tubing and replaced it in the small purse.

The Princess then undid the rest of the snaps of the garment between her legs, so that it looked like a skirt between the cuffs around her slender thighs, and pulled the other pet close. She undid this one's gag and removed it, revealing a flexible, ventilated eight-inch-long black rubber phallus, shiny with saliva. With a heel she nudged the blind, rubber-covered head forward, and S'Leah saw the pet licking her lips. Then its head was pushed inside the white rubber between the Princess' legs.

The Princess then quickly snapped closed her white rubber pseudo-skirt, this time around her pets' neck, enclosing her head. The Princess slid forward on the bench seat and spread her legs wider. Doubly hooded now in rubber, the pet was busily licking away at her owner's folds. Her head was a vague shape under the white rubber, which ballooned slightly.

"Can she breathe under there?" S'Leah asked. The pet's head could be seen moving back and forth as she licked dutifully, but the white rubber was snapped tightly around her neck. She couldn't have withdrawn if she'd wanted to.

The Princess idly watched the bump that was her pet's head angling to and fro. "Apparently," she said after some deliberation. The other rubberclad pet knelt blindly beside the first, and the Princess idly stroked the smooth black dome of her head.

The aide watched all this activity without expression, only glancing once at S'Leah to see her reaction. She remained on her knees, leaning forward, and S'Leah watched her small breasts shake gently as the coach rolled ever on. Her eyes traveled past the aide's breasts, down her corset, to her bare heart-shaped ass sticking out invitingly. The backless skirt was barely more than a black rubber apron tied at the bottom.

"And the third?" S'Leah inquired.

The Princess glanced over and saw she was asking about the aid, and laughed. "She begs the inappropriate."

"Move forward," S'Leah commanded.

The ballgag contorted her face, and made her expressions hard to read, but the aide seemed genuinely pleased at this turn of events. She scooted forward, staying on her knees in the middle of the floor. S'Leah climbed down and knelt behind her.

The black rubber skirt was tight, almost painfully so. The oval hole exposing the aide's buttocks was just barely large enough; even with her kneeling down and bent over the puckered rosebud of her anus was just visible above the rubber's edge. Her sex below it was hidden from view, but S'Leah wasn't upset. In fact, this might work out better for her.

She undid the front of her trousers, already erect. The aide now looked back, and pushed her ass out with an eager gleam in her eye. The Princess looked on, a hint of amusement in her face, as her pet continued to toil, hidden among the folds of rubber between her legs.

S'Leah coated the head and shaft of her cock with spit, then gobbed again onto her fingertips. The aide's wrinkled rosebud was surprisingly soft and loose. S'Leah smeared spit over the outside, then probed her with a finger. It went in without resistance, as did a second. S'Leah removed her fingers and replaced them with her cockhead. She pushed forward and slid in easily, all the way to the base. The woman on all fours before her groaned and pushed backward as she was entered.

"Doesn't quite seem to be a virgin, does she," S'Leah remarked. The aide was warm and soft around her shaft, and she wiggled a little in anticipation.

"Not exactly tight?" the Princess asked rhetorically. "As talented as you'll find it, that backside has seen quite a few visitors, large and small. My herbalist has developed a diet for all my playthings," she remarked. "You'll find it getting slipprier in there as you go."

She was right. As S'Leah pumped slowly back and forth, getting a feel for the aide and her ass, her cock began moving more freely. It was as if she was lubed from the inside. S'Leah had never heard of such a thing, but supposed the diet was rich in oils.

The more she thrust, the looser the aide got, and the wetter her channel became. It felt good, but reminded S'Leah of why she was there—to make such an impression upon the Princess that she was invited along. She stopped pumping and withdrew her cock.

"With her gaping backside, she seems to be enjoying this more than I am," S'Lead announced. She sat on her heels behind the aide and penetrated her with three fingers. They slid in easily, and were soon slick. S'Leah added a fourth finger, then with hardly a pause began working her entire fist into the kneeling woman.

The aide stiffened, grunting, surprised more than anything else. Her ring of muscle clenched at S'Leah's twisting hand, but the aide never moved or leaned away, she was too well trained. With little effort S'Leah soon had her entire right hand in the aide up to the wrist. Her hand wasn't that big, and soon the aide began to relax. After just a few minutes of twisting and stroking the aide was groaning with pleasure again. Her ass had loosened even more, and once S'Leah's fist and wrist were properly slicked up, they began to move easier. S'Leah soon had the aide bucking and thrusting herself back onto her fist, which she began to pull out completely before roughly ramming it back in.

The aide lowered herself onto her elbows and hung her head as S'Leah began to explore her. She twisted her hand this way and that, pushing her arm ever further into the woman. The Princess watched silently, slouched back in the seat, a bemused expression on her face. She had one leg bent back, and pressed her heel against the back of her pets' head toiling unseen between her thighs.

The aide seemed to be infinitely receptive, but when S'Leah could glide her entire forearm into her, the aide's rubbery ring of muscle stretched to the full circumference of her elbow, she figured that was enough.

S'Leah rose up onto her knees again as she pulled her arm back until just her hand was inside the woman's ass. Her anus was bright red and shiny with lube, inside ridged and fluted like the petals of a flower. S'Leah stabbed her organ deep into the aide, grasped it with her hand still inside the woman, and began jacking herself off.

The aide cried out in pleasure, the sound buried in her ballgag, as S'Leah's efforts shook her body.

"Oh, yes, very nice," the Princess purred. She licked her lips and stared.

S'Leah widened her stance and gripped the aide's corset for leverage as she pumped her hand around her thrusting shaft. The aide was beside herself, drool running out around her gag, forehead pressed to the floor. It was only a few minutes before S'Leah grunted and came, spurting her seed deep into the woman's open bowel.

She ground to a stop, sweating slightly, hunched over the aide's rear end. She suspected that she'd ruined the knees of her new suit, but from the look of approval and arousal on the Princess' face she figured it was a successful trade.

S'Leah backed out of the woman still on all fours and regarded the slimy mess that was her hand and organ. "I don't suppose there's a cloth about," she said.

"No need," the Princess told her. "Just pop that gag out and you'll be gratefully licked clean. And more if you're up for it," she added. "That was interesting. I've never seen anything quite like it. What did you say your plans were after we arrive in Greenwood?"

S'Leah smiled inwardly and sat back, watching the huge tunnel into the aide slowly shrinking in diameter.