Ponytail

Ponytail by Nikita © 2006

 

 

Sweetlips' body, gingered by the sun, was lithe and her lips were chapped from thirst.  Her brown hair, with streaks of red and blonde throughout, had grown to reach the middle of her back.  The soles of her feet were toughened from running without shoes.  She had developed that faraway look in her eyes that comes from detachment.  Dreams of traipsing into a coffee shop were faint snatches of memories.

 

The day had been another exhausting ordeal for the ponygirl, who'd been in training for weeks.  She was dressed in full ponygirl tack, Although she managed to run as fast as the others, she was singled out and whipped repeatedly until she brought her knees up high and did it with grace as well.   Afterwards, she was made to pull a sulky.  The trainer attached one set of reigns to her nipple rings and the other set to the bit in her mouth.

 

At the end of the day, all the ponygirls were hosed down with cold water, then fed healthy food that was cut into small pieces.  The meals, served in metal bowls, were tasty, and consisted of carrots, granola moistened with apple juice, and vitamins.  At first, it was hard for Sweetlips to get used to eating with her hands tied behind her back, but, after awhile, she was too hungry to protest.  In their stall, each ponygirl had a keg of water with a hose connected to it hanging near her mouth, that dispensed water if she sucked on it hard enough.

 

Sweetlips was roused from a deep sleep by the clanging of keys hanging from the keeper's belt.  He unlocked her bound wrists from the wall.  She had expected to stay chained for the rest of the evening as usual, but somehow, this change in routine frightened her, it felt like a hand clutching at her gut.  Trained to be a pleasure slave, however, outside of enduring the attention of the trainers and keepers, she had dared to hope those days were over.

 

Leading her with a leash, the keeper took her to a drain hole in middle of the floor and she emptied herself, splashing his feet in the process.  She looked up at him and immediately knew what to do.  Asking permission with her eyes, he nodded and she licked the yellow drops off his shoes.  Once he was satisfied with their condition he signaled with a tug and escorted her to a special room for an attendant to prepare her for one of the members.

 

Sweetlips smelled ginger and oranges as she walked into the steamy, spanking clean oasis.  A petite asian slave busied herself lining up bottles of oils, shampoos, and such.  The name stenciled on her left breast was Miko.

 

For over an hour, Sweetlips was cleaned, groomed, rubbed, and oiled.  Her lush hair was pulled up into a ponytail.  Light make up was applied and her eyes appeared greener than ever.  Lipstick completed the look.  The rings in her pussy were laced together with a red silk ribbon.  A little bell was attached tn her clit and tinkled when she moved.  A delicate Y chain was secured to her nipple rings.  Her hands were tied behind her with a strong silk rope.  She felt unsecured with the rope; cuffs were as much a part of her as an arm or a leg.

 

Miko stepped back and clucked with approval.

 

"Ah, pussy drips," noted the attendant in broken English as she fingered the silken ribbon.

 

There was a question in Sweetlips' eyes as she looked at the attendant.  The keeper walked in just in time to see the exchange. 

 

"Blindfold," he said.

 

Miko nodded and handed it to the keeper who slipped it over Sweetlips' head.

 

"Can you see anything?"  he asked.

 

"No sir." she said demurely.

 

"Follow me closely, slut."  It sounded like he said it with a smirk, a look she knew all too well.

 

He took the delicate chain and led her like a pony into the main house.  She padded carefully through the corridors, unaccustomed to the feel of the cool, polished, floor under her bare feet.  As she listened to the sound of his footsteps for guidance, she lost track of the number of turns, and when they stopped, there was a light rap on a door.

 

"Come in."  The voice was strangely familiar, and after a few long moments he said,  "Over there."

 

Under the crossbeam with hooks, he placed her in the familiar position.  Stretched upward onto her toes, classical music played in the background.  Sweetlips tried to assess the situation as she  hung by her wrists from the ceiling.  The aroma of spicy men's cologne wafted through the air, a fan whirled overhead, and the sound of running water, a fountain perhaps, was comforting.

 

"Anything else, sir?" asked the keeper. 

 

"No.  Send someone with coffee at the usual time in the morning." said they mysterious guest.

 

Moving about the room, he gathered the toys he chose for the evening and placed them nearby.  The urbane man opened a bottle of wine, poured a glass, and proffered it to girl's dry lips.  Faint snapshots flitted in her head as she took a sip.  Wine dribbled out of her mouth and down in between her breasts.  He traced its trail with his tongue.  She almost moaned, as no one had shown her any attention of this type since she'd been brought here, it was exquisitely erotic.  Her pussy dripped honey down her thighs.  She heard him put the glass down and felt his tongue lick a circle on her belly.  He played with the little bell attached to her clit and untied the lacings with his teeth.  As his teeth tugged the rings, she trembled like a skittish pony, afraid and excited at the same time.

 

The man spoke very little.  Kneeling in front of her, he pulled on her nipple rings and lapped at the nectar between her thighs.  If she wasn't bound, her body would have buckled.  With her back arched like a bow and on the edge of a cum, she asked for permission.

 

"May I cum, sir?" she said timidly but with controlled urgency.  He laughed.

 

"No.  But you can lick yourself off of my face."

 

Sweetlips stretched her tongue to feel for his face as he neared closer so she could lick.  Her practiced tongue washed his face like a cat cleaning her kitten.  With long sweeps, she explored his nose, cheeks, and chin for that salty, tangy taste she knew to be her own, stopping only when he pulled away.

 

"I've been told you are voice trained, a point in your favor.  Not a peep, love, understand?"

 

Sweetlips nodded as she heard him reach for an object nearby.   With a crack, he unfurled the whip, and  her head snapped to attention.  Without any preamble, he began to paint her body with fine red lines, perfectly spaced, delivered with a deliberate pace, on all the meaty parts of her body.  His sweeps were invigorating to him, and soon, he had a sheen of sweat on his body.  She retreated to the safe place in her head while her body shook from the blows and the whip licked rivulets of perspiration off her skin.  After awhile, the ferocity of the strokes lessened and she hung limply.

 

He stopped because his arm was sore, otherwise, he would have continued.  Not wanting the girl to pass out, he pulled her head back and dripped cold water on her lips.  He unhooked her, laid her on the bed, wiped her down with a cool washcloth, and fed her little pieces of cheese and some grapes until he felt she had enough. 

 

Sweetlips desperately wanted to drift off to sleep, but it wasn't meant to be.  He had elaborate plans.

 

The mystery man donned a custom cock harness and said, "I hope you've been taught to take advantage when given an opportunity for respite, because they're few and far between."

 

He sat her upright and put a head harness on her that was cleverly designed with a chin band, fully adjustable side buckles, and D rings at the temples.  It was designed to attached to the cock harness with tiny snap hooks.  As he lay down on his back, he pulled her on top facing him, then pushed her toward his groin.  Once she was nose to nose with his cock, he snapped the hooks on his harness to the D rings on her harness so that her head was now bound in front of his crotch.

 

Sweetlips snuggled in closer to the vortex between his legs to try to find a middle ground between painful and uncomfortable.  He slipped his cock into her mouth and tightened the adjustable straps. It was an ingenious contraption.

 

"I'm going to strap you on for the night," he said, coining a new phrase.

 

The angle was awkward.  He raised her head a bit, so that there was no bend in her throat.  Sweetlips' tonsils massaged his very erect cock and he quickly pumped a load down her throat.  It flooded her so fast that cum out squirted through her nose.  He loosened one of the straps so she could catch her breath.

 

"Look what you've done.  Got cum all over you and me," he admonished gently and wiped up what he could with the bedding.

 

"I've got to pee," he said.

 

She tried to nod, but instead pressed her lips to his cock as a silent kiss of submission.

 

Slowly, a stream of piss trickled down her throat and watered her as if she were a cock flower.  She gulped it down easily.  It was bitter, salty, and warm.  When he finished, he could see the deflated cock resting on her tongue.

 

"You love that, don't you slut."

 

With Sweetlips between his legs, his cock ensconced in her warm mouth, he patted her head, and settled down to sleep,

 

"You are welcome to go to sleep my little flower," and with that, he tightened the straps and fell asleep.

 

Sometime during the night, she felt his cock grow and adjusted the angle of her throat just in time.  He ground his hips into her mouth forcing his cock further down her throat with short jabs.  All the nerve endings on the head of his penis were so electrically charged that cumming was almost painful.  But he tried to hold onto the edge of an orgasm, until his efforts were defeated and he blasted just a little less intense than before. This time, Sweetlips was prepared as it shot directly into her stomach.  A few more spasmodic jerks and the mighty member wilted and so did she.

 

Nudged awake, Sweetlips felt his morning wood and got ready to receive the gush.  When he was done, he pushed aside the covers and loosened the strap just a little.

 

"Good girl," he said as he stroked her hair.

 

There was a tap on the door, "Coffee."

 

"Bring it in.  Do you have the paper, too? Thanks."

 

He shifted his body a bit; his leg was cramping.  Sweetlips tried to help but could not move.

 

"Let's see what the headlines say..."

 

As he read her the whole first section of the paper, her ears perked up with interest   She'd been caught in a time capsule and was astonished at what she'd missed.  This stranger read to her and it made her feel a little more human.  She sighed into his cock.

 

Sweetlips didn't have thoughts about fleeing anymore.  Her life had been simplified.  She loved the physical demands of being a ponygirl, the structured life she led, and the occasional bliss of serving like this.  Perhaps he would allow her to cum.  It only took a nod.