Dahna Rules

Chapter 2

The captured Birimi Royal Family were not left contemplating their demise for long. First, each in turn was visited by one of the male workers, carrying a hose-pipe. Once they had been doused in cold water, a female worker entered and unceremoniously washed them with carbolic soap and a coarse scourer that left their skin quite red. Then, the man with the hose returned and rinsed them off. It was fortunate that even in winter in Dahna, the daytime temperature was quite hot but that did not stop the two Princesses from shivering as they dried naturally in the warm Gulf air. Whether they were truly feeling the cold, or were in shock or whether it was simply from the fact that they had never previously been separated like this, they shivered and trembled incessantly. In all of their 25 years, the twins had never been apart and each now desperately needed the comfort of the other.

Mary was the first to be harnessed. Under the guidance of one of the female overseers, one male and one female stable hand worked together to place her in a leather harness that held her upper arms fast behind her back while separating her breast in the front. A wider strap around her waist had leather loops and metal shackles on each side and a strap that ran between her legs. Sticking through the strap, on the inside, was fixed a short, plastic plug device. Mary never saw the device but only felt it as the female worker slid it up inside her anus and tightened the strap between her legs. Mary squealed into the bridle that she still wore but was powerless to stop it and, after her protected upbringing, to speculate on what it was and why it was there. Once reunited with her twin sister, she would see that it fixed into place a long plume of horse hair that sprouted out of the other side of the strap and gave an appealing equine look to her rear.

The poor girl had never felt so uncomfortable in her life, her muscles were constantly trying to eject the foreign object that had been forced into her anus but to no effect and the leather strap between her legs was tight and invaded the lips of her vagina. Her arms were aching from their unusual position behind her back and her breasts were thrust forward as a result. The overseer herself then came around to the front and checked the tightness of the strap between Mary’s legs, much to Mary’s horror and humiliation, before taking each of Mary’s nipples in turn and attaching a spring clip from which dangled a cluster of small bells. Finally, she was led out into the yard where she was reversed in between two arms at the front and to one side of a small, ornate open carriage. Now she recalled what Queen Aliyah had said earlier and trembled again at the further humiliation she now realised was in store. They were to be used as horses or animals, to pull their conquerors around the street of Dahna.

It was not long after that her sister, Jane, was led out, also wearing a harness and mary saw for the first time the pony tail and realised the significance of the butt plug that was causing her so much discomfort. She wanted to call out and comfort her twin but was prevented by the bridle so could only look across sorrowfully and see the tears streaming down Janes cheeks. Once Jane was fitted into the carriage, reins were attached to their bridles and fed back behind them where someone they could not see but only hear began giving them instructions.

“When this rein is pulled you will turn left” came the disembodied command as their eyes were forced to look left by the pulling on the reins. “Similarly” came the same voice “this means you will turn right” as their heads were made to look right. A flick of the reins which caused a slap across their shoulders told them to move forward, repeated similar flicks to go faster and a sharp pull back meant to slow or stop.

The twin Princesses knew all of this of course, both being accomplished riders and had seen the drivers of their own carriages handle horses many times. But now, here they were, being used as horses and forced to obey the same commands they or their drivers had given to their own horses many times. “Now, we will take a spin around the Palace grounds just to make sure you know what to do” came the same voice just as they felt the reins slap their shoulders. Hesitantly, they turned their heads to one another, each seeking either encouragement or consolation from the other when the crack of a whip over their heads snapped them into action and they started forward. It was not easy getting the wooden carriage moving but gradually they moved it forward and began to pick up speed and it was not long before they were pulling it quite consistently around the Palace courtyard, turning as requested, speeding up and slowing down appropriately so that they felt a strange sense of accomplishment when finally they returned to the stable yard.

There, however, to their dismay, they met a sight that both enraged them and made them feel all the more helpless. Their parents, they saw, were similarly harnessed to themselves only in their case to a chariot. Both, once regal in stature, now appeared shrivelled and drawn and the twins feared they would take neither the physical strain of pulling a chariot nor the humiliation of being treated as animals.

They need not have worried for the former king was made of sterner stuff in spite of his wiry, 50 year old frame. He was determined to get his family through this and to negotiate their release just as soon as he was able to talk to Queen Aliyah. He realised that in the jubilation of a victory, conquerors invariably went over the top at the expense of the vanquished but was sure that once the hubbub all died down, sense would prevail and they would be sent into exile. He saw the carriage return with his precious twin daughters pulling it along and his heart went out to them. He tried to show them he was strong and to give them some hope, even as the whip cracked over his head and he and Catherine began pulling the chariot out of the yard. It was impossible to smile through a bridle but he did his best as he passed them and prayed that they too would be strong and endure the painful and humiliating treatment they did not deserve.

Henry was furious and ashamed. He felt that all of this had been his fault and that he should have suspected a trap. He had seriously underestimated his enemy and now not just he but his entire family were paying a humiliating price. As heir to the throne he had let them all down and he had to retrieve the situation. He knew he was a warrior and that in an even contest he could beat any of his captors, if only he could get his hands free.

He had not been in his chained alone in his stall long when he had been hosed down and then washed by some lowly, he thought also ugly, woman who seemed to delight in his discomfort and the sway she held over him. ‘Just wait’ he had thought but then three of them had arrived, two men and a woman, carrying some sort of strange looking saddle and riding tack. To fit the saddle, they needed to release and reposition his arms and, knowing he was still chained by the neck, were unconcerned as they unfastened the cuffs on his arms.

It took a moment or two before the feeling and strength returned to Henry’s arms after they had been held for so long in an unnatural position but as the two men and the woman began manipulating them to fit the strange saddle device over his shoulders he decided he had had enough. Lashing out to the side with his arms he struck one of the men in the face and the other in the throat. The woman, standing in front him was too slow moving back and caught a kick in the crotch as Henry vented his fury and frustration on the stable workers. They all three backed away, out of range before the woman ran off to bring some assistance.

With his hands now free, Henry was able to remove the bridle and he screamed at the two men, standing forward of him but out of range of his feet or hands. Henry tried to unfasten the collar and chain but found the collar was padlocked. In frustration he yelled at the two men “Don’t just stand there you idiots! Help me escape these amazon bitches and come with me. You will be well rewarded!”

The men did not move but simply looked on dispassionately as an imposing female form appeared behind them, silhouetted in the doorway. “So, at least one of them is showing a bit of fight, a bit of spirit” she said softly in a threatening tone. “Out of the way you two, this one needs to be taught a lesson!”

The two men left the stall and as the Amazon guard came forward out of the light, Henry was able to better make out and appreciate her form. She was tall, athletic with well-toned muscles and moved with catlike grace. She wore knee length stiletto heeled boots and a tight fitting, all in one leather garment that was bra, corset and pants together and that allowed her great freedom of movement. In any other situation, Henry would have relished the challenge of subduing such a fine piece of womanhood and slaking his lust on her but now the roles were reversed.

The women of Dahna were well aware of Henry’s reputation for ill treating women and Kaylah, Captain of the Guard, was no exception. A cold smile spread across her lips as she approached Henry who was still standing defiantly although a little less sure of himself than he had been with the two men. “My word, you are a truly beautiful woman” Henry ventured. “Just think what you and I might achieve together, we are both warriors, release me and together we could recapture Birim and you could be my Queen.”

Kaylah’s smile broadened as she stepped further into the stall, unfolding a signal whip from behind her back and in one swift motion, cracking it just short of Henry so that he felt the air ionise in front of his face. “You have a lot to learn Birimi cur,” Kaylah snarled at him. “This is one situation where your silver tongue will not serve you. You will learn humility and respect in time but for now you are going to allow my men to fit you out in your riding gear with no further nonsense. Is that clear?”

“Have it your way bitch but my turn will come one day” replied Henry defiantly before gasping as the second crack of Kaylah’s whip lashed him over his right shoulder and across behind his left. He raised his hands now in some attempt to protect himself but there was no protection from Kaylah’s whip. If his hands went high, the lash went low and Henry was now dancing to her tune, fixed in place by the collar and chain around his neck he could not escape as Kaylah silently and mercilessly applied the whip to her hapless prisoner. Turning away from her didn’t help either, skillfully, Kaylah silently played the whip all over him, lashing it round his defenceless body so that the tip would crack against his cock, his ball or his nipples. She did not ask if he had had enough, no, she continued to lay the whip over him until he begged her to stop and, in spite of his earlier defiance, even Henry soon realised that his tormentress would not cease unless he begged her to do so and allowed them to do whatever they wished to him.

“Alright, please, stop, I beg you, mercy, please, aaaaagghhhhh, no more please, have pity…………..”

Kaylah lay on another dozen strokes from the moment he began to plead for mercy before folding the whip and stepping up to her victim and grabbing him by his balls. “You foolish man” she whispered, “you must learn that there is no escape only compliance and servitude. Learn to do always as you are told, no resistance, no complaints and you will find that life can be bearable, even pleasant at times but anything less than total subservience will cause you a great deal of suffering, much worse than that little exercise. Understand?” she asked, tightening her grip on his balls as she did so.

He nodded, “yes” he whispered hoarsely.

“Yes what?” Kaylah began lifting him up by his previously tortured balls and Henry recalled the suffering he had felt the previous night when he had been suspended from a tree by his testicles. Not wanting a repeat dosage, “Yes Madam or however you wish to be addressed” he ventured hopefully.

Placing a spiked heel on Henry’s instep to prevent him raising his heels as she lifted and squeezed his balls even more, “Yes, Madam Captain will do, be sure you address people by their proper rank and you might survive better” she whispered, her face now so close to his he could feel her breath and smell her musky female odour as she glowed from her recent exercise with the whip. In spite of himself and his detest for this woman and her advantage over him, Henry was feeling aroused and Kaylah was quick to notice, letting go of his balls and raising her knee into his groin in one swift motion so that he felt an instant dull ache that swept back up to his kidneys before nauseatingly settling in the pit of his stomach. He crumpled as far as the chain on his neck would allow and was in no state to offer further resistance as Kaylah summoned the stable workers back into the stall.

This time they shackled his ankles to eye bolts in the floor before they began manipulating the saddle onto his shoulders and fixing his arms folded across his back, further supporting the saddle that rested on his shoulders, the bulk of the seat being behind his head. Stirrups dangled down his sides and two leather saddles straps passed down his chest to be united at his genitals which were pulled through a metal ring and from which another strap passed through his legs and up behind him where it split into two to join up with the shoulder straps again. Like his sisters and parents, he also suffered the indignity of the butt plug horse tail but worse. As punishment for his resistance, the large, ugly female overseer took great delight in advising him that he would be taking a much larger plug than anyone else and laughed loudly as he squirmed and desperately tried to prevent its insertion. However, with ankles spread apart, arms now securely bound again, there was nothing he could do to prevent it and, even though the overseer had lubricated the plug, it was pushed in unceremoniously and so painfully Henry could not prevent himself from crying out.

Finally, bridle and reins were fitted along with a cluster of bells on a sort of parachute attached to his balls and he too was led out into the yard. William, his brother was also lined up, similarly attired, and Henry noted that he too had welts over his flanks and back. ‘So Billy has resisted too’ he thought proudly of his younger brother and tried through what facial expression he could manage through the bridle to signal his support and encouragement. Looking further across the yard he was shocked to see his sisters harnessed into a carriage and his parents harnessed to a chariot and he felt growing despair and guilt for having brought them to this but at least he noted no welts on them and took comfort in that they did not appear to have been beaten like William and himself.

Suddenly, Kaylah appeared at his side as he noticed another guard approach William. “Bend you knees a little” Kaylah commanded and he did so to allow her to place a foot in one stirrup and throw her leg over the saddle, taking up the reins in her hands as she did so. Henry felt her weight and, even though he could bear it, decided to make one further show of defiance and began bobbing backward and forwards, twisting and turning trying to unseat his rider. “Whoah boy” pulling on the reins and digging sharp spurs into Henry’s flanks Kaylah told him to settle down and reminded him of his earlier treatment by giving him a resounding crack on his buttocks with a riding crop.

With his head pulled harshly back by the reins and bridle so that it was pressed up against his rider’s crotch, and with sharp spurs piercing his flanks, Henry once more decided on discretion being the better part of valour and followed Kaylah’s instructions to the letter. An accomplished rider himself, he did not need to be told what the signals and gestures meant and so, along with William his brother, quickly cantered around the yard.

“Excellent” Kaylah remarked as she dismounted and walked round to the front of her human pony where she caressed his face with her gloved hand. “You did well boy” she said, almost with a tinge of affection, or was it further teasing wondered Henry as she continued “Perform like that in the parade and there might even be a treat for you tonight.” He knew enough to know that he would suffer if he didn’t perform in the parade and, in light of his treatment so far, did not think he would necessarily like the ‘treat’ that might be in store for but nevertheless, there was something arousing about being handled in this way and he blushed in shame as his erect penis testified to this, bringing a throaty chuckle out of Kaylah’s mouth.

“OK, let’s get this show on the road” Kaylah shouted and stable workers then led the Birimi royal family, harnessed and saddled up round to the main courtyard of the Palace and up to the steps in front of the main doors. The twin Princesses, Mary and Jane led the way, pulling the Queen Aliyah’s carriage, followed by the former king and queen, George and Catherine pulling Princess Tahlia’s chariot with the two Princes, Henry and William side by side at the rear. They noted the gathered ranks of Queen Aliyah’s army waiting to follow the Royal group and they could hear the general hubbub of the Dahnaian’s out lining the streets beyond the Palace walls.

As they waited in front of the Palace for a short time, Henry looked across at his brother, William and tried to show some sign of encouragement to help him through the ordeal. Ahead of them, George was trying to do the same to Catherine and Mary, who had always been the unelected and unofficial leader of the twins, was trying to comfort the tearful Jane. Unable to speak though, their efforts went largely unnoticed.

Eventually, Queen Aliyah and Princess Tahlia appeared, escorted by Brigadier General Tamsin and Colonel Zenda. The group first walked along the ranks of gathered troops, inspecting the turn out of her Amazon Army. Queen Aliyah occasionally stopped to talk briefly with one or two of her soldiers before they finally came to the front of the procession and inspected her human ponies and their livery. “I see these two have come in for some punishment, especially this one” commented Aliyah standing by the two princes and pointing to Henry.

“Yes, your Majesty” replied Kaylah, stepping forward, “both ponies attempted to bolt and had to have some extra training.”

“I see. Well, we shall find out if it did any good once the parade starts” went on the Queen and, stepping up then to William, the younger of the two, ran her hands over his back and thighs. “This one looks especially fit and healthy whereas the other looks a little tired and worn.” Helplessly, William tried to remain stoic while the Queen, ran her hands over his flesh. He hated this woman that now had control over his life, his destiny but in spite of his best efforts to remain distant, his eyes, absorbing this regal woman of astounding beauty and his taut nerves, tingling at the brush of her silk-gloved hand made resistance impossible and his penis began an inexorable rise to prominence. “Why look at this!” exalted Queen Aliyah, raising her golden stiletto sandals to his genital, her beautifully manicured and painted toenails catching everyone’s eye and drawing them to the unfortunate Prince’s now enormous cock. “I see this boy has taste! And oh! How delightful are these bells?” playing now with the parachute that dangled from his balls and extricating a pretty tingling sound.

William was mortified that his family should see his pleasure at the attention he was getting from Queen Aliyah but was powerless to prevent it and suffered all the more as his tormentress flicked his testicles from side to side with her painted toes simply to hear the chime of the bells. His cock raged even harder as she toyed with him and all but those of his family were laughing at the fun their Queen was enjoying at his expense. Finally, with a sharp flick of her ankle, his testicles were pushed up into his abdomen, causing him to double over and almost choke.

Aliyah inspected the remainder of her human cavalcade in silence. Neither George nor Catherine or the girls raised their eyes from the ground, terrified that they might be further humiliated. Aliyah did play with Jane’s bells, dangling from the Princess’ nipples but only elicited a stream of tears, tears of humiliation from the girl and decided she was not worth toying with, at least not for the moment.

“Enough frivolity! To the parade!” she cried, stepping finally onto her carriage and flicking the reins. Princess Tahlia mounted the chariot immediately behind and to their dismay, Brigadier General Tamsin and Colonel Zenda mounted Henry and William respectively before following their Queen as she led the way out of the Palace and into the waiting crowds.

Mary and Jane strained at their harnesses as they pulled Queen Aliyah forward through the gates. They had started slowly, been encouraged by the whip, flailing across their lilywhite flanks and were now trying to settle in at a pace being signalled by their driver, Queen Aliyah. The amassed crowds were daunting, parting ahead of them as they strained forward, no idea where they were headed, controlled solely by the reins as handled by Aliyah. If they slowed, a crack of the whip raised their pace, much to the delight of the crowd and if they were moving too quickly, the queen reined them in fiercely with the reins, the cruel bridle fouling their delicate mouths.

Behind, George and Catherine were struggling through a lack of fitness, their lifestyle having been particularly unsuited to their current situation but they strained forward, grateful at least that a chariot was lighter than a carriage. However, Tahlia was not as good a driver as her mother and, determined, as she was, to maintain an even space between them, was over zealous with both whip and rein, particularly to Catherine who she sensed was not pulling her weight and whom she felt particularly angry towards. ‘What woman could ever allow her son to behave like she encouraged Henry’ she mused and gave her an extra crack of the whip for good measure.

Rebelious Henry considered another attempt at bucking his rider but Tamsin has his measure. Before climbing into the saddle she had taken his reins and pulled his face close to hers and breathed into his nostrils much as you do with a horse, knowing full well that Henry would have done this to calm his own horses many times before. “Be good and strong” she encouraged “and you will be rewarded. Cause trouble,” she threatened “and you will be punished.” Defiant as he was and much as he hated the amazon woman that climbed into the saddle, he was no fool and bore her weight begrudgingly, his body, still tender from Kaylah’s flogging fearing the sharp silver spurs worn by his rider.

Zenda, amused by her Queen’s exchange with the younger prince, also moved in front of him before mounting and, blowing into his face, smiled at him. “Well, well” she whispered alluringly, “this little boy pony has the hots for our Queen and is not under-endowed.” As William blushed bright crimson, detesting this woman who held control over his reins but somehow finding once more his penis swelling to prominence, Zenda swung gracefully up into the saddle and, as she urged him forward with her wickedly sharp spurs, encouraged him further “C’mon boy, get a move on. Do this well and I will see you rewarded – you already know how I can punish you if you don’t.

The two brothers carried their charges well, each in a strange way feeling exhilarated by carrying such magnificent women and yet each feeling they had sullied themselves by doing so. The crowds cheered and threw ticker tape on the procession and although they laughed and jeered at the human ponies carrying their conquering heroines, the Birimi royal family pressed on, their bell jangling, their tails bobbing with each step and sending curious sensations up and into the bodies of them all. The princesses both became increasingly aroused by the jogging of their naked breasts and the chafing of the strap between their legs, although uncomfortable, also had an arousing effect.

George and Catherine however felt totally humilated the whole of the journey and could not wait for it to end. They accepted it as an ordeal they had to overcome and managed it with surprising dignity even if they struggled pulling the chariot towards the end of their circular tour of the city of Dahna. The leather harnesses played roughly on their ageing skin and, as fit as they thought they were, keeping pace with their daughters up ahead was difficult.

What relief, they felt as they finally turned back into the Palace gates. Each one aching, tired, hot, and sweating profusely was grateful to leave the baying crowds behind and to see the hot, tropical sun fall over the horizon. They each felt a strange sense of accomplishment as they were unharnessed or unsaddled and a certain comfort at being returned to their familiar stall, no matter how rudimentary or primitive it was. None had slept for an eternity, they had been forced into physical exertions beyond their experience, had suffered humiliations they could not have dreamed of and wanted nothing more to sleep and recover their scrambled wits. Even the hosing down with cold water now seemed a luxury and was met without complaint, uttered or otherwise. When, shortly after dark, they were each brought a bowl of food scraps, you would have thought it were a feast, so hungry and undiscriminating had they become. ‘It was over’ thought George, ‘there is nothing worse than this. Tomorrow is another day, things can only get better.’ Whether he truly believed this or was just trying to convince or comfort himself he had no way of passing on his thoughts to his family who, exhausted, curled up in the straw on the floor of their stall and fell into troubled sleep, ignoring the sounds of revelry coming from the palace celebrations that continued on into the night.