Amy - Criminal Ponygirl

Amy – Criminal Ponygirl

By Arnold Puttwyn©

This story is a work of fiction, made up entirely in my own mind.

Any similarity to any person or persons living or dead is coincidence.

This is a story using the society from ‘Kari in Training’

The time is fifteen years after the finalization of the Slave Act.

     Society had to change because an unknown genetic disorder caused men to have many more X chromosome sperm cells, so the birth of females 2 to 1 over males made the population change to 67% female and 33% male.  Women became very competitive for the eligible males.  Doctors and medical researchers were not sure they could find an immediate cure, so the legislation was enacted to try to create an equitable ratio of male to female citizens.

     To ease the competition situation, The Slave Act was voted into law and females convicted of crimes were offered the choice of spending excessive terms in prison or becoming non-reproductive slaves. 

     Volunteers were also sought, at first there was little interest, but when the ratio worsened to 75% female and only 25% male the applications increased.  Even with criminal slaves and ‘volunteers’ the number of males was limited.

     In order to keep from interfering with employment of free women, the use of slaves was restricted.  Neither professional nor commercial use was allowed.

Two classes of slaves were developed:

1. Domestic Animals or Pets

    1.  Sex Slavegirls

          2. Ponygirls          

      B. Livestock

           1. Milkers

           2. Worker Slave Girls - Menial or unpleasant tasks

____________________________________________________________

International Slavegirl Registry

U.S. Headquarters - Denver, Colo.

Directive 2021-01

Following the recent appellate court decision of Adams vs. State of Missouri, the International Slavegirl Registry, (ISR) issues the following rules update:

All slavegirls and ponygirls are re-classified as Domestic Animals, having no legal status, and no legal rights.  ISR registration is permanent and not transferable nor reversible.

All owners shall be certified by ISR. (Per chap.3 sec. 7 thru 21) All slavegirls and ponygirls must be registered and recorded with ISR.

1. Slavegirls and Ponygirls are not considered human beings, but for medical purposes are Homo sapiens.

2. All protections and responsibilities currently afforded domestic animals and livestock shall be extended;

Including;

Nutrition, IE Food, and Food Supplements, proper supervised recreation activities and fitness exercise.

Safe Secure Shelter, Including Heat or Cooling as necessary.

Medical Care where needed. (Homo sapiens)

All Slavegirls and Ponygirls shall be non-reproductive; by medical or mechanical means.

(See Addendum 6 for approved methods and products)

3. Each registration shall be numbered and each registrant tattooed with the same number.

The number must be permanently placed on the right breast in type size and a contrasting color, legible from 3 meters.

The number shall not be covered or hidden.  {Added per appellate court}

4. All body hair including pubic and underarm hair shall be permanently removed and re-growth prevented.

ISRD 21-0101

    

Chapter 1

San Diego County, CA

     My name is Amy, well actually, Amelia, Mooth – like moose with a lisp. It was Amy Mooth, now its 1-021-1249P.  The ‘P’ is for ponygirl.  I belong to Master Ryan McDonald.  He owns me now.  It’s been a convoluted trip to end up here, though. 

     It’d been about eight months after high school graduation that I got in trouble. In school I had been a little taller than average, you know, 5’ 9” or 10” but during my senior year I grew over four more inches.  It was possibly due to the same genetic problem that caused all the extra women.   I grew clear to six feet and two inches tall, if I felt gawky before I was really bad then.

     Well, I went to Mac’s Bar out in Mission Valley, to meet a friend from high school; I hadn’t seen her since graduation.  She met me in the parking lot and we smoked some crack in her car.  I only had it once before, I didn’t really care for it because it made me feel kinda edgy and mean.

     We went inside and this drunken woman started picking on me, poking at me and swinging her hands up, around near my face.  She said she had to pick on me because I was so tall.   She finally tried to push me, but I just stepped back and she almost fell down.  I grabbed her hair and pulled her down on the floor.

      When it started the bartender called the police, and they got there just in time to see that.  When she fell she hit her head on the side of the pool table, she was hurt pretty bad.  I got arrested for felony battery, they said I could have just stepped back and let her fall, but I added to the problem.  Anyway I ended up in court, I was given the opportunity to go to prison for fifteen to twenty years, with the population as skewed as it is sentences for women are terrible, or ask for alternate sentencing.  My lawyer said I could probably get out in twelve or fifteen years, if I was good in prison.  I asked for the alternate sentencing program.  That meant I’d be a slavegirl, and as tall as I am, I was going to be trained to be a ponygirl.  I didn’t live in a vacuum, I’d seen ponygirls before, I knew they were naked, but it didn’t mean that much to me.

     “I felt,,,, SO,, they’re naked.”

     Then I had to do it too.  It was then I realized just how very naked ponygirls are.

Ponygirl Amy

     Master Ryan wasn’t actually in court that day, but his assistant Ms. Carla Bunoni was there.  He had a deal with the court so Ms. Carla got first choice and she bought me from the court for $2500.  I took the option instead of having a trial, so the court cost was small.

     They took me to an examination room to check over my shoulder, hip and knee joints.  I had to strip completely though.  I asked why I had to take off my panties to check my knees.

     Ms. Carla was a short sour woman, she said, “Take off yer damned panties, or I’ll have someone tear ‘em off!”  I started to cry, but I took them off, while I sobbed.  One of my sandals came off, Ms. Carla picked it up and just held her hand out I shrugged and gave her the other one, too. 

     The doctor felt my joints while I moved them around.  She nodded to Ms. Carla, who picked up my bra and panties, dress and the sandals, and tossed them into the waste basket.  The attendant in the exam room handed the doctor an electric clipper, and she clipped all my pussy hair off short, to show I was a slave now.  My lawyer said good bye to Ms. Carla, and left.

     Slavegirls all have no pubic hair, so the fashion for citizen women is to have pubic hair.  Years ago most women clipped or shaved their pussy’s, now most don’t do much more than clip it to about an inch long, having pussy hair is now fashion statement.    I didn’t get to make any statements.    

     Ms. Carla had a crossed arm binder sleeve she wanted to use instead of the handcuffs the bailiff had.  The binder held my arms behind my back,  so it looks like I crossed my arms behind my back, my left hand was by my right elbow and my right hand was secured by my left elbow.  The binder sleeve covered my forearms and gently held them behind my back.  I was kinda surprised that it wasn’t really uncomfortable.  They took me back to the courtroom naked with my arms in the binder.  Ms. Carla had a collar put around my neck and then clipped a leash to it as we left the exam room. 

     Just before we went into the courtroom the bailiff looked at me, and she whispered gruffly “Don’t say a word.” 

     “Yes Ma’am,” was all I whispered back.  Until we went into the courtroom, it didn’t seem so bad.  When we actually went into the courtroom I could hardly breathe, I almost fainted.  I was so scared, I was naked and my pussy hair was all gone, I couldn’t cross my arms over my boobs or put my hands over my pussy.  I heard such a ringing in my ears, and I could feel my heart beating in my temples I couldn’t tell what the judge and Ms. Carla were saying, then the judge tapped her gavel and Ms. Carla led me out.

El Rancho Mardock

San Diego County, CA

     We went to the ranch in a white van that had lots of seats, but I was the only one in the back.  When we got there I saw that the place was huge.  There was a really big house, and a barn, and several other buildings.  There were people walking all over working and doing other stuff.  Ms. Carla turned me over to Jill.  She told me she was my groom, and she’d be ‘taking care’ of me.  I called her Miss Jill, but she said to call her Jill, she said she was probably the only citizen I could name, and over the next few weeks we would become friends.

     The first thing Jill did was to take me to the doctor’s office for my permanent IUD.  It was kinda scary, but she told me it would have to be done.  Dr. Reels was the same doctor that was at the courthouse.  She showed me the new style IUD (Intra Uterine Device) called ‘The Barrel’.  It’s made of a coiled fiberglass rod, in the shape of a barrel.  The rod is about twelve inches long, but coiled up its only three inches long and about one and one half inches at the widest part.  The inner end has several fiberglass barbs that dig into my uterus to keep it from ever coming out.  The hollow center has a small copper rod running the length of the barrel.  This whole thing was to be put inside me, clear up in my uterus.  Dr. Reels had me lie on her table and put my feet in the stirrups, she had little straps on each one for my ankles.  The stirrups were motorized and moved slowly toward me, until I had my knees almost to my chest. I was layin’ there with my pussy spread open.  The IUD was scrunched up in an applicator; she pushed the whole thing into my pussy and through my cervix into my uterus.  Then it was done, the IUD was permanently installed in me.

     Next Jill took me to the tattoo shop where my number 1 021 1249P was tattooed across the top of my right boob.  Mr. Mills, the tattoo artist,,,, was a dreamboat, he was gorgeous.  He had dark curly hair that was kinda messy.  He was almost as tall as me, and he had huge arms, with dragons and tigers tattooed on them.  I just stood there as he handled my right boob, to put the tattoo stencil on it.  He could handle my boobs all day.

     He didn’t say anything to me, but had Jill check to see if the stencil was in the right place.  When they both were satisfied that everything was in the right place, he had me sit in a tall chair so he could reach my boob with his tattoo gun-thing.  I loved the feeling of his hand touching my boob. 

     I said “Ooohh,” when the back of his knuckles grazed over my nipple, and both my nipples stuck right out.  I don’t even remember the actual tattooing; I just kept looking at his eyes and his mouth, wishing he’d use it to kiss me.  Then we were done.  I heard Jill saying she’d see him after she got done.  Damn!!!

     It was dark when she said that’s all for today, so we went back to the reception area; she had a cell for me there, until I could get a stall assigned. 

     “Jill, can I ask you something?” I asked, she just looked at me and nodded.  “Why is this place El Rancho Mardock?”

     “In the 1870’s Mr. Mardock had a cattle and horse ranch here, and it’s been in their family ever since,” she said.  “Mr. McDonald bought it about ten years ago, but it’s always been El Rancho Mardock.”

     I was actually pretty tired and after a half a peanut butter sandwich, while I was still sitting at my table, I went to sleep. I roused up when Jill helped me to my cot and then a couple more times in the night, ‘cause the new tattoo on my boob hurt.  Jill woke me up at 6 AM.

     It was daylight and I looked around to see what sort of place I was in.  The room was real plain, gray cement floors and a brown metal desk at the front, near the door.  There were four cells with a center aisle-way between. The cells were numbered P1 and S1 together on the right side and S2 and P2 across the way.  Out in front of the slavegirl cells were exam-type tables that were mounted to the floor.  I wondered what they were for and Jill told me.

     Each morning the slavegirl in the cell had to get up on top of the table and put her ankles and wrists through loops on each side.  Then her groom or handler, whatever slavegirl’s grooms are called, would give her an enema.  It sounded really icky to me, having to lay there on the table with a hump in the middle so her butt and pussy was up there on top for her groom to care for.  There wasn’t anyone in any of the other cells.

     Jill led me outside to a small corral and told me to pee and poop on the ground.  At first I tried to squat down, but she said I had to learn to go standing up. When I was harnessed to a wagon or cart I couldn’t squat to pee.  She had me bend my knees slightly and stick my butt out and just pee, and then poop right on the ground.  When I was done she was waiting by this washer thing.

     There was a wand with a soft, blue, brush on it, and it had a hose running to it, too.  It put out warm soapy water; Jill used it to wash my pussy and had me turn around so she could wash my butt, too.  There was another one with a pink brush, right beside it that put out warm clear water, to wash the soap off me.   I had to stand there with other ponygirls, while other grooms and handlers walked all around, as our grooms washed our pussies and butts.  At least slavegirls are handled indoors.

     I’m not sure which is better, or worse.  Slavegirls have to lie over the table and get an enema every morning and I have to go outside to pee and poo on the ground and have to stand there in front of everybody to be washed off.  Slavegirls had this toilet-thing at the front of the room. It was white porcelain and built into the wall. On the left end was a sink under a polished metal mirror; next to it was a latrine bowl in the floor that the slavegirl had to squat over and then next to it was a shower.  There was a small space and then a second one for the other slave cell, but it was the opposite, first the shower, then latrine and then the sink on the end.   It’s not real private there, but at least it wasn’t outside in front of everybody.

     Over the next few days Jill took me around the ranch for all the stuff they needed to do to me.  I was taken back to the tattoo shop and Mr. Dreamboat Mills pierced my tongue. 

     When I was growing up, I remember seeing my mother’s pierced tongue; it was all the rage when she was growing up.  It scared me to see the little gold ball thing peeking out when she talked, I thought something had happened to her, and it must have hurt so badly.  While I was in grade school Milly Lang told me that girls who had their tongues pierced liked to suck men’s dicks.  I was so mad; I wouldn’t talk to her for three days.  I finally told my mother what Milly said, she got a funny smile on her face and just winked at me.    

     When Jill took me to the shop I was really scared, I just knew it would be terrible.  Mr. Mills had this device that helped to align my tongue for the hole. 

     “Why do I have to have this done?” I asked Jill, before we started.

     “It’s for your bit,” she said.  I must have looked at her funny, because she had one to show me.  It was shaped like a “Y” The top had holes with rings through them,  to hook to the bridle harness and the single end had a little ball on the end, so it wouldn’t poke the inside of my throat.  In the middle where the arms met there was a small part that came down, to go through the hole in my tongue.  It kept the bit in place; it also kept me from talking while I was harnessed.  I guess Mr. McDonald didn’t want ponygirls running along in their harnesses, chatting about stuff and telling jokes. 

     I had to put my tongue out for him to clamp the guiding thing on to it.  Jill held it for him and he pushed a hollow, piercing needle through from the bottom.  He had a curved barbell with little round balls on the ends, to put in the hole.  It didn’t hurt as much as I was afraid it might.  He said it was because the hollow needle was real sharp. 

     After that he shaved all the stubble off my pussy.  He touched my pussy so gently while he spread the shaving gel on me; I almost had an orgasm, right there!   I laid on the padded top of his table, and Jill put a warm wet cloth over my pussy, after that Mr. Mills had a can of shaving gel to make foam on me.  He was pretty good with the razor and shaved my pussy and around my butt, in just a few minutes.  He didn’t cut me or nick me, or even go too deep and cause a razor burn, just zip, zip and he was done.  Then he said he had to shave me under my arms, too.  Jill handed him a bottle of pale pink lotion that he gently rubbed all over where he just shaved me.  I thought it was to soothe my skin, and it did, but it was to stop hair from growing.  It worked real well; hair never grew on my pussy, between my legs, or under my arms again.

     Then he tattooed Master Ryan’s logo – R M - on my belly, just above my pussy.   The letters were red with black outlines to match the numbers on my right boob.

    

    

     On about the third day, the discomfort from my tongue piercing and the tattoos eased up and Jill took me to see a ponygirl punishment.  Three girls had done something bad repeatedly and were getting seriously punished for it.  We went into one of the big red, open barns to see the three girls hanging by their ankles, from an overhead track.  They were wearing hoof boots and crossed-arm binders, but no pulling harnesses or bridle harnesses.   When we got there they were already hanging, helplessly, upside down, by their ankles.

     The girls were pulled along the track to a set of swinging doors into the next big room.  As they moved into the room they stopped about ten feet apart.  There were four people in the room waiting for the girls.

     The head groom, Mrs. Caster, and a recorder, to note the girl’s number and read off the punishment assigned, the executioner, to apply the punishment, and the ponygirl’s groom was there too, to care for her afterward.  The executioner was dressed in a black hooded robe; the others were just wearing their regular clothes.

     The first girl in line rode forward as the recorder stepped forward; she rose up until her boobs were level with the recorders face so she could see the girl’s number tattoo without bending. 

     “1-035-453P, nine strokes for repeated insolence and masturbation,” she said as she stepped back and the girl came back down to the original level, then her ankles were pulled apart until she hung like a ‘Y’.  The girl glared as the executioner stepped forward with a long, thin, leather covered whip.  She pulled back and struck down.

     The whip made a sharp swishing sound and slammed into the inside of the girl’s left thigh with a sharp SMACK.  She closed her eyes, shook, more quivered and then yelped out loud.  I thought she would scream more, I know I woulda’ screamed and cried like a baby.

     The executioner checked her watch; Jill whispered to me she was waiting a full minute until the next stroke.  The next time she hit the ponygirl it was on the inside of her right thigh.  It was the third hit that really got to me.  It was right down the middle; she hit the ‘girl right on her pussy!

     This time she screamed, and it sounded like terrible pain.  She hyper ventilated and moaned until she fainted.  Mrs. Caster looked toward the ‘girls groom and said, “Ammonia capsule.”

     The groom stepped forward and I heard the pop of an ammonia capsule which she held by the ‘girl’s nose.  In a few moments she started to wake up and sob a little. They made sure she was awake to feel all the punishment.

     The second time the whip hit the ‘girl’s pussy; I felt a splash.  I looked toward Jill, she smiled and nodded.

     “Sometimes they get a bit turned on,” she whispered. 

     After the third time, the groom woke her up again. 

     The executioner just said “Done.” 

     Then she was pulled back to the original starting spot.  The other two were also whipped between their legs, but they each only got three strokes, one on the inside of each thigh and the third right down the middle. 

     Then Jill took me into position and had me strung up.  Oh My God I was so scared; I started to cry when I started to move forward.  I thought they were going to give me a ‘taste’, just to see what it was like.

     The recorder stepped forward and read off my number, “1-021-1249P, Training.”  She stepped back as I was lowered, and then my legs spread apart.  The executioner stepped forward and raised her whip; she stopped and just said “Done”.  She didn’t actually strike me, but I was sure scared!

     I told Jill that I’d never do anything to get whipped like that!  I haven’t either. 

McDonald Ponygirl Academy

    

     The Ponygirl School was not such a big thing, I learned all the commands in the first two days, there’s not that much to it.  Jill had a bridle harness for me.  It was mainly black nylon straps that had padding on the back.  It was kinda complicated to get on, but Jill put it on me every morning.  She’d French braid my hair and then put the bridle harness on me.  The French braid was so I kept long hair and it was out of the way, and I also had kind of a tail. 

     Jill told me that once a while ago ponygirls had tails that were on the end of butt plugs.  They had to have a butt plug in their butts all day.  Then some owners started using them for real pulling and the butt pugs were just too uncomfortable to have in a ponygirl that actually had to work.  We don’t really work, like plowing, but we do pull carriages and small wagons.  There are special teams that pull hearses for funerals, and carriages in parades.

     There was a band that went around my head at my hair line; it was called the ‘hatband’ and there was a strap that went over the top of my head, about even with my ears.  There were two parts that went down the side of my face and curved to end right at the corners of my mouth.  These parts had steel rings to clip to the ends of my bit and to the reins.  There was one more part that went from the lower parts around the back of my head, clear up under my hair.

     The next three months were learning to work with the other ponygirls and gaining all day endurance to run and pull a cart or wagon or even a sulky.  I also had to learn to walk, run and just generally live in hoof boots.  The hardest thing to learn was to live naked and exposed, all the time.

    With the rear, crossed-arm-binder sleeve installed my arms were held back out of the way.  I couldn’t put my hands over my pussy or cross my arms over my boobs.  My pussy between my legs was kinda shielded, if not exactly guarded, but my boobs were totally exposed and I felt defenseless.

     We were divided into teams.  At first by height, so we would be more evenly matched by stride length.  After a few weeks we were changed to matching more by ability and endurance.

     There were two trainer ponygirls assigned to each team, they were in the front positions of each team to help teach pacing and so we could all pull evenly.  These ponygirls had pierced nipples with a little chain and a bell dangling from their rings.  I told Jill I wasn’t sure I’d want my nipples pierced like that.  She smiled and just said ok.

     Some girls had to work hard and some had to take it easy, so we would run at the same speed.  I liked to run for exercise so that part was easy for me.  The hoofboots were hard to get used to.  At first they were like work boots with high heels, but as I got accustomed to them they were replaced with others, until the final boots were fitted.  They made me look like I had hooves.  There was no heel, and there was about a two inch platform under my toes.  I had to stand on my toes, and run on my toes.  They were fairly wide so I felt secure, I got so I could run pretty well in them.

     With the hoofboots on I must have stood about six feet and eight or even ten inches tall. I felt like a giant, it was pretty neat.  My diet was carefully controlled; I wasn’t allowed to carry any more weight than necessary.  Any extra fat meant I had more work to do just to move around.

     I had two meals a day; breakfast was usually slave mush, grilled and four poached eggs.  There are two kinds of slave mush, sweet and regular.  It’s like oatmeal, but with other grain in it too.

     The sweet has pieces of fruit, like apple or cranberry and blueberries.  Mostly a slavegirl gets that for breakfast, but it’s not enough for me to run and pull all day.  So I get two slabs of the grilled regular or non-sweet slave mush and four poached eggs. 

     Then in the mid-morning I get a snack of two sliced bananas, and sliced apples.  I can eat that with my bit in place.  I have my late meal right after I get cleaned up, more grilled slave mush and turkey burger.  I tried soy burger but it didn’t have enough nutrition, when Jill weighed me I’d lost too much weight.  I weigh 173 pounds, my butt and thighs are bigger and my stomach is getting smaller, my boobs are too.

     When I told Jill I didn’t like that my boobs were getting smaller, she just said, “ the breasts are mostly fat,” and I’ll just have to get used to the idea the mine are smaller.  She always spoke properly; she said breasts, and vulva not boobs or pussy.  I was so tired after running and training all day that being naked was not at the top of my mind.  Since all the other girls were also naked, I didn’t seem alone; we were all in this together.  Besides, I was so tired at the end of each day that I didn’t have the energy to be self-conscious.

    

     The strangest thing I had done to me was actually a treat.  We aren’t given food or sweets for treats, we get orgasms.  On the day I found out was a day I tried really hard to keep pace with the trainer ponygirls, and I did it right all day.  The driver came over to me and said I had done well.  She put on light blue latex gloves and she started touching my belly, just above my pussy.  She let her hand stray down to touch my outer lips, she pushed my lips open and stroked my inner lips and pressed her index finger against my clitoris.  I almost fainted right there, I was so embarrassed.  I writhed around, but I was still hitched to the cart and couldn’t go anywhere.  I had to just let her handle my pussy.

     Oh My God, I realized it felt good.  She kept it up and then she pushed her middle finger into my pussy and rubbed against the inner top of my vagina, that rough G-spot place.  I moaned and had an orgasm right there harnessed to the small cart we’d been pulling. 

     It wasn’t long after that, two or three days and the experienced ponygirls were not brought in anymore, and we were on our own.   Believe it or not, I was moved to first ponygirl.  I was hitched in the left front of the team, and it was my responsibility to keep the pace, so the other girls could pace themselves off me! 

     It was right after our first break that the ponygirls were led away.  When we went back to get hitched to the cart, it was just the six of us that had been in the class to be hitched.  There was a new cart, too.  It had just six spots, not eight. I was in the fourth spot, second on the right side of the cart tongue.  I looked around for the handler to hook me up, but she was standing at the front.

     “Amy, Come on here!” she said to me.  I walked numbly up to her.  “You go here from now on,” she smiled and winked at me.  We had another long work out and then were released.

     Jill was there waiting for me, I just knew she was gonna masturbate me again, I could hardly wait.  But she didn’t, she just took the check rein when the hander finished unhooking me.  We walked kinda fast back to the stable and she began getting all my tack off me, and undid my French braid.  When she was done she led me to the shower stall.  Each girl has a shower space in the shower room; mine was ‘4’ of about 25 spaces in the big room.  There is enough space between them for the groom to stand to wash us off without getting sprayed. The 4 was stenciled on the wall above the shower head.  Jill was also responsible for keeping my stall and shower space clean.

     Anyway, when I was all cleaned up, after Jill finished washing me, (yes she washes me).  She told me it was my night to get bred.  I was amazed, I said “Bred?”  She smiled and nodded. 

     She told me that all ponygirls get turned on running along naked; their arms held behind their backs, their boobies (she said breasts) jiggling around (like I didn’t already know that).  Even those of us with small little titties jiggle around a bit.  I kinda thought it was just me, and that maybe I was weird, getting turned on from being made to run around naked.  With the crossed arm binder I was helpless; I had to depend on my groom for everything.

     If we’re good we get to mate with one of the male grooms, handlers, trainers, or drovers.  They’re assigned by Mrs. Caster.  It’s not like love making, we go into the privacy stall and bend over a padded framework thing and the groom steps up behind and puts his dick inside the girl’s pussy.  They go for as long as it takes for her to cum; sometimes he does too, sometimes not.  My goal is always to get him to cum too. 

     Jill led me, without a bridle harness or leash, just my hoof-boots to the stall and took me inside.  She showed me where to stand and bend over the padded part of the frame.  I have to lean on it, there’s a switch in the frame that turns on a light over the door to tell the male if a stall is occupied.  Since all the ponygirls are so tall, there is a thing for him to stand on right behind my place on the frame.  Jill said that from now on she wouldn’t come in here, she’d just lead me to the door and I’d go in on my own.

     I got in place and leaned on the frame and waited.  I only waited about two or three minutes and the door opened, one of the males came in and I laid over the frame.  I was so turned on that both my hands were shaking.  He stepped up to me and entered my pussy right away; I was also already wet inside.  He started pumping in and out right away, too.

     I was so horny; I really writhed all around on his dick.  We were there for about five or six minutes and I had an orgasm, he did too.  It felt so good, my orgasm and the hot sperm spurting out of his dick into my pussy.   Then he pulled out and put his stuff away as he walked to the door and out.  I stood there for a minute and Jill opened the door, “Come on, it’s time to go.” 

     She told me later that the handler really liked ‘doing’ me.  She wasn’t allowed to tell me which man it was that ‘bred’ me.   As long as I do well, I’ll get masturbated and bred regularly, and I can get extra breeding time for better behavior. 

     “Do they ever touch our boobs,” I asked her.  “I always like having my nipples touched when I’m doing it.”

     “They don’t usually have time for all the niceties,” she answered me.

Graduation

     After three months I graduated, and I was the top in both classes.  There were two classes of six ponygirls each; and Mrs. Caster had us competing.  There was a graduation ceremony and Master Ryan was there to see us graduate.  Each team pulled a small wagon past the stand where Master Ryan and Ms. Carla and Mrs. Caster the Head Groom were standing.

     Later Master Ryan had a reception for me and another girl in the garden.  We stood there in all our fancy harnesses, especially made for dress occasions.  They were all shiny, black leather, mine had real gold fittings.  I didn’t even know that I had a fancy dress pulling and bridle harness, and shiny, polished hoofboots. 

     The pulling harness has a wide belt that rides low so it puts the strain of pulling on my pelvis.  It also has straps that go up and over my shoulders to put some of the pull there too. There are also straps that go around my chest, just under my boobs.  Girls with big boobs that need support have a kind of shelf on this strap that pushes up under their boobs.  The straps on mine were high up under my boobs too, but there wasn’t much of a shelf but it still helped my little boobs feel better.  For training we had padded nylon harnesses.

     Before the reception, Jill and Mrs. Caster came by and told me not to talk, just stand there and receive my praise for being the first in my class.

     There was also another girl, Brenda was her name, everyone called her “Bren” there too, and we had been first and second on our team.  The rest of the new graduate ponygirls were not at the garden reception.

     Master Ryan stood up when we came into the center of the garden.  He was real tall, 6’5” or 6”, and he had thick black hair, just over the tops of his ears.  We stopped right beside a fountain.  The fountain was a marble woman with a big urn on her shoulder that poured water out.  It was pretty nice here, quiet and shady,,, just nice.

     “You two, Amy and Bren were the top of the class,” he looked around.  “Usually there is one girl in about four or five classes that does really well, not two in the same class.  You two were well ahead of the rest of them, Amy edged out Bren by about three or four points, in every category, but Bren was miles ahead of all the rest of the group.”  I was kinda lookin’ around; he had this slavegirl on a leash.  I couldn’t help notice her, she was beautiful and naked. 

     She was about 5’2” or 3” and couldn’t have weighed more than 105 pounds; she had really long brown hair, clear down her back, nearly to her waist.  All she had on was a gold metal collar with a chain and leather leash that Master Ryan was holding.  Her skin was tanned so it was almost the same color as her hair.  She looked Spanish, but not Mexican.  We have a lot of Mexicans and Mexican descendants here in southern California, she looked a little different.  I found out later she was from Florida; her family was from Puerto Rico. 

     She saw me looking and smiled at me, she had nicest smile and the whitest teeth!  Her firm boobs covered her slender little chest, but they weren’t really any bigger than mine.  Her little nipples were pierced kinda strangely.  They were pierced across and then in from the end.  Her nipples had little gold chains from her collar to the inside ends of the little gold barbells and then more chains to the studs sticking out from the ends of her nipples.  Then another chain from the outside draped around under her arms and to the back of her collar.  When she moved the chains dangled off her nipples.  I remember thinkin’ it must jiggle her nipples around a lot.

     Master Ryan was saying that Bren and I would be kept here and sent to the advanced ponygirl school, in about ten days.  Then we would each be the lead girl in our own teams.  He noticed me looking at the slavegirl and pulled her leash to get her closer to him.  He unclipped her leash and then said softly to go ahead.  She walked closer, looked up at me and smiled.

     She started touching my pussy with both hands; with her left hand she spread my outer lips open and rubbed my clit hood with the fingers of her other hand.  She let her hand slide down to my inner lips and so very gently rubbed them too.  She put four of her fingers into my pussy and slowly pushed until she had her whole little hand inside me.  She moved her hand around inside my pussy until I had an orgasm.  I thought I was gonna fall down; someone (probably Jill) was behind me holding against me to keep me upright.

     I thought she was done, but she didn’t stop.  She leaned her head closer and began to kiss and lick my clit hood; she still had her hand moving around inside me, she kept it up until I came again.  She turned and rinsed her hands in the fountain.

     Then she moved over to Bren and gave her an orgasm, too.  I watched while she took hold of Bren’s hood with her left hand, then she slowly pushed the two middle fingers of her right hand inside.  She had a shy smile as she worked both of her hands on Bren’s pussy.  She was real good at masturbating a girl’s pussy.

     Master Ryan had our grooms take our bits out.  He asked if there was anything we wanted to know.  We both just stood there and looked around.

     “Mrs. Caster told you both not to say anything, right?” he asked.  He looked at Mrs. Caster, “Why don’t you go have a cup of coffee?”  She smiled and nodded, and then she turned and left.

     “What’s going to happen to the other girls?” I asked.  We had been teamed together for nearly three months, and they meant a lot to me.

     “They’re going to the auction in a couple of days.  They are really good, you two are just better.  My academy is one of the best; they’ll sell for a lot.  Their buyers will take good care of such expensive girls.”  He looked directly at me, “Did you study dance before?”

     “Yes, when I was young I did ballet and contemporary dance, but when I got so tall, I couldn’t keep up.  I did gymnastics until I was too tall to do the uneven parallel bars.”

     He looked at me funny, “Too Tall?”

     “I had to reach down to get the lower bar; I couldn’t swing underneath it and look graceful.”

     “Well that training did you a lot of good here.  Your timing is impeccable.”  He pulled his little slavegirl closer to him and put his left arm around her shoulders; he reached down and touched her left boob, carefully so he didn’t get caught in her jewelry.  He saw me looking at her, “You want to ask her something? Her name is Mia.”  I nodded.  He said he had to go do something on the other side of the garden.  After he left she looked toward me.

     “Do those little chains bother you?”

     “Yeah, they make me crazy sometimes,” she looked toward Master Ryan and then back at me.  “I have this one too,” she said and then showed me her pussy.  She had a huge clitoris and it had a ring pierced through the base.  There was a little chain with a little medallion dangling from it. 

     “Oh my god,” I thought it must have hurt a lot.  “Did that hurt a lot?”

     “No, not too bad,” she shrugged.  “I was really afraid when I found out what they were gonna do, but it wasn’t so bad.”

     “Is that there all the time, too?” I asked.

     “The ring, not the dangly thing,” she shivered.  “That really drives me crazy!  I don’t have to wear it every day,” she looked around.  “The doctor told Master Ryan that if I had to wear it all the time, I’d get un-sensitive.  So he only has it put on me once or twice a week.” she rolled her dark eyes.

     “By tonight when Master Ryan wants me, I’ll be so turned on I can hardly stand it,” she smiled at me.  While she was talking I could see that her tongue was pierced too.  She had a real big gold thing that looked like a pyramid sitting in the middle of her tongue.

     I saw Master Ryan coming back, so we were done talking.  Mrs. Caster and our grooms were with him.

     Jill walked up to me and held my bit up; “Tongue.” was all she said.   I put my tongue out for her to hook my bit up to, she clipped the ends to my bridle harness, and I couldn’t talk anymore.

     We went back to the stable, and Jill took my tack off me, when I was naked she led me to the shower room.  There was no one there, just the two of us.  The others were already moved out of the school stable and taken to the main stable.  While she started to wash me, Jill told me they were getting their nipples pierced this afternoon; I’d have my nipples done tomorrow.  He had those ten to do today, Bren and I would be the only ones for tomorrow.  She continued to bathe me.  She smiled as she put more liquid soap on her hands.

     Then she slowly pushed her two middle fingers into my pussy….  

     Well, it didn’t hurt so badly after all.  Mr. Mills had a piece of steel that he kept in some ice.  He put it against the side of my nipple until my nipple was hard, and I had goose bumps all over.  Mr. Mills started with my right nipple and carefully pushed the hollow, piercing through my nipple.  Quickly he put the barbell into the end of the needle and pushed the needle out as he put the barbell into the new hole.  After he finished my left nipple, it looked like I had little gold balls on each side if my nipple. He told me that by the time I went to the advanced academy it would be all right, but it could be as long as six months to completely heal, but that active girls like ponygirls usually heal quicker. 

     The nipple rings were put in because everyone liked to see nipples with the little bells dangling, free women wanted to see that ponygirls were made to do that.

     I kinda liked it too, to show that I had graduated from the academy and was an accomplished ponygirl. 

End Chapter One.

Part Two

Mia – Slavegirl

Chapter 2

     Hi, my name is 5 - 002 - 829, or Mia now, it was Ciara Cruz.  I got in trouble and decided to take this choice.  I got in trouble because I believed this asshole guys lies.

     I met Steven just as my senior year at the Ft. Lauderdale high school I was attending finished.  He told me he was a Male Reproductive.  That’s a man that has been tested and has a high percentage of ‘Y’ chromosome sperms, like 85%.  They get a lot of money for sperm samples at local sperm banks.  He had a lot of money so I believed him.  He had this really nice house, turns out that he inherited it from his mother.

     We moved in together right after graduation, my father wasn’t so sure and wanted me to wait, but I was gonna have some male babies. My friend Yasmin Perez was so jealous.   I had a real boyfriend and she got a job, at Ramos Slave Services.  We fucked like rabbits for the next two months and nothing.

     One day this letter from the Fertility Board came in to John Andrew Browne, my boyfriend was Steven Gore, so I opened it.  There was a photo printed on the top of the page, but it was Steven.  The letter basically said that they had re-tested his semen sample two more times and he had less than 1% viable sperm.  What that meant was he wasn’t ever going to father any babies.

     I was so mad; I called my friend Yasmin and told her about it.  She came over after work at Ramos Slave Services, and another girl, Ruth, came too.  Yasmin had a six pack of beer and Ruth brought a little bottle of whiskey.  We each had two beers and two swallows of the whiskey, I rarely drank and got pretty loaded from just that little bit.  They both left to go home.

     When Steven, or John whatever his name was, got home he found the letter, and got mad at me for opening it.

     “It’s not your mail,” he yelled at me!

     “It’s not yours either! Is it?” I yelled back!  We yelled at each other some more.

     We started fighting and he slapped me, on the side of my head, really hard, I fell down between the couch and the coffee table.  I looked up and on the bottom of the coffee table a pistol was taped on it, with black electrical tape.  I grabbed the pistol and pointed it at him, and started to pull the trigger.  He dropped out of the way and I shot right out the window.  The bullet hit a little girl that lived next door.  She was playing outside.

     The bullet went through her left forearm, right between the bones.  She was not going to die or even be crippled.   BUT, I had still shot a hole in her.

     Steven had tried to get some stuff gathered up and leave, but the police got there too quickly.  I was arrested, of course.  He was too, for possession of drugs, he had lots of money because he was a drug dealer, a crack dealer.  The gun was to protect his stash from other dealers.

     My father, Antonio Cruz, came and signed me out of jail; he was a good citizen and had a son, my younger brother, Alfonso, so he didn’t have to post bail.  He had to agree that I’d stay home until the trial and not drink any alcohol.  I sure wasn’t ever going to drink again.

     My lawyer said she could get me 20 to 25 years; this was the best I could hope for, since I actually used a gun in the crime.  She came over to the house one night with the State Attorney who agreed that if I pled guilty I’d get the minimum sentence.  I knew my life was pretty much fucked; and I’d done it myself.

     Yasmin called the next day, from Ramos Slave Services, and she’d told her boss about me.  He said I could get out of going to prison and get my father some money.  We talked some more, and I agreed to talk to him.

     Yasmin brought him over the next afternoon, after my father got home from work.  He also had a doctor with him, Dr. Ivete Pena.  She was real nice to me.  We went to my room so she could examine me.  I took off my clothes and she checked me over.  

     “You’re a beautiful girl,” she handed me my dress.  “You won’t need these; she nodded toward my bra and panties.

     “My father’s there, I need my panties.”  She nodded and tossed them to me, I got dressed. We went back to the front room and she just nodded to Mr. Ramos, then she left.

     I spent the afternoon looking at slavegirl prices on the internet, and I thought I was worth about $5000 so if I held out for $10,000 I might be able to get the price up to $7500.  So when he offered me $8000 I almost laughed.  He thought I wanted more, he explained that he had to take care of me until I sold and the $8000 was a good offer.  I agreed.

     Mr. Ramos said he had called the State Attorney’s office and she would meet us here to sign some papers releasing my father of responsibility for me if I signed his papers.  Just then the same state attorney that was here before came in, and my lawyer was with her, too.

     We signed all the papers and they left.  After they were gone Mr. Ramos counted out $8000 in 100 dollar bills, that’s 80 of them.  He pushed it over to me and I pushed it to my father.  He just looked at it and shrugged.

     “I’d rather have you than this money,” he looked like he was about to cry.

     “I know, Papi, I know, but I‘ve really screwed up and I’m gone.  This way at least I can give this.”  He nodded.   I hugged everybody, my father, and my brother, Alfie, and my little sister Genevia.

     We went out to Mr. Ramos’ car; his driver was waiting out there all this time.  She opened the front door for Yasmin, the back door for Mr. Ramos and for me.  Yasmin was doing something with the lap top computer, typing away like crazy.  She finally stopped and the computer printed out this piece of white tape.

     “What’s that?” I asked her.

     “It’s your ISR number,” she looked at it, and sighed.  “It has to be stuck on your right teta.  Unbutton the front of your dress, Ciara.”  I just sat there for a minute.  “Come on,” she said softly.

     I looked at her funny, but I took a deep breath and did it.  She pulled the back off the little piece if white tape, to uncover the sticky stuff.  I pulled the right side open and slid it off my shoulder, so my boob was uncovered and Yasmin carefully put the tape on the top of my boob.  I just sat there after that, Mr. Ramos reached around me and pulled the dress back over my shoulder, so it covered up my boob.

     “Her number is supposed to be visible at all times,” Yasmin protested.

     “Me quedo con mis posibilidades.,” he said sort of off handedly, and then he chuckled. (I’ll take my chances)

     I knew what the ISR was, International Slavegirl Registry, but I didn’t know how all the numbers worked.  When I was looking it up, I found out that from a slavegirl’s number you could find out a lot about her.

     Yasmin told what the numbers meant.  The 5 is this area, the southeast United States, the 002 was Mr. Ramos, and the 829 meant I was the 829th slavegirl registered by him.  It also meant that we weren’t really friends anymore.  She was going to get married and have children……and I wasn’t……ever………

Ramos Slave Services

          After I got to R.S.S. we went to the office Dr. Pena uses when she’s there.  She had this Caterpillar IUD that she put inside my uterus.  It was made of some kind of soft plastic and had small brass hooks on the inside end.  She told me it was the older style, but since I’m so small, it was better for me than the new Barrel type IUD.

     “Are you a virgin?” she asked.  I told her no.  I kept my dress on, but I had to take off my panties, for the last time.  I got up on top of her table and put my feet on the stirrups, my knees were back near my chest and my pussy was available to the doctor.  Yasmin was there with me, Mr. Ramos left before this started.  He was actually very nice to me; he knew I was going to be kinda shy at first. 

     Dr. Pena had the IUD in an applicator thing.  It was stainless steel and held the IUD all squeezed inside so it fit into my pussy and through my cervix.  She carefully pushed it into me and into my uterus.  After it was in place she pushed in the plunger and the IUD was permanently installed in me.   Slavegirls are not allowed to reproduce; only free women can have babies.  If a man wants to reproduce he has to get a free woman.  There are plenty of them to find.  She also told me that I’d bleed to death if I ever tried to pull it out. 

     We went to a small room off the side of the office.  Mr. Ramos has a deal with a tattoo shop guy who comes to do the tattooing here.  Mr. Ramos is a broker, not a slave owner.  He doesn’t have a huge staff; he just gets things done when he needs them, the doctor, the tattoo artist, and a beautician.

  The tattoo artist was already there.  He had my number on about ten transfers.  The ink was indelible and took several days to wash off, but there were a bunch of them so I’d always have the number on me, but it wasn’t really permanent. 

     I lived alone in a long building that had about twenty cells in it. Each cell was two parts, inside and outside, there was a door between the parts, but Yasmin made sure mine was never locked so I could go out for fresh air whenever I wanted.  I didn’t have to stay naked there, either.  Yasmin brought me a few men’s small, white, sleeveless t-shirts, they fit me like mini dresses.  They were too big in the top and my boobies were constantly coming out.  They were long enough that my pussy and most of my butt stayed covered.

    Mr. Ramos cousin, Bianca Torres, had a beauty shop and did grooming for Mr. Ramos, too.  She sent technicians to use electrolysis to take off all my body hair.  I was pretty hairy, my arms and legs had a lot of hair.  My pussy hair went from my butt almost halfway to my belly button.  Under my arms was pretty thick too.  The technicians came over twice a day for an hour; two technicians would come over and work on me.  That’s four hours a day, and it still took over two weeks.  When it was done she had her own tattoo artist, Ana Matos was her name, put a small blue ‘B’ right at the top of my pussy where my lips stop.

     One day this woman came by to see me.  She saw Mr. Ramos internet ad.  Yasmin came out to my cell and got me out; she also took my mini dress.  We went up to the office so this woman could look at me.

     Her name was Ms. Salina McDonald she was looking for a birthday present for her brother, Ryan.  Ryan was a male reproductive and he made a lot of money, he had this huge house in San Diego, California, and Ms. Salina lived there too.  She said she really appreciated him and was looking for the perfect girl for his birthday.

     “This one is gorgeous,” she said.  “She’s tiny and pretty, just what Ryan likes.”

They made a deal while I stood there.  Then she wanted me sent to “Mistress Elena’s Slavegirl Academy” near Savannah, Georgia.

     Mr. Ramos said he could have me shipped there in just a few days.

     “Nonsense,” she answered.  “Just drive her up there; it’s only a few hours by car.”

     Yasmin, and Hector, Mr. Ramos son and Jose another guy who worked there, drove me to Savannah, the next day.  We just went up I95, and only had to go a few miles after we got to Savannah.

Mistress Elena’s Slavegirl Academy

     It was an imposing place with a high wall and huge iron gates.  The main building was a white colonial mansion with four columns in the front.  Before we went in, Yasmin hugged me, real tight.

     “Te amo, Ciara,” she whispered softly in my ear.  “Good bye.”

     Mistress Regina met us just inside the door. She looked scary wearing a long, brown organdy gothic dress, with ivory lace trim, and dark make-up. Her black hair was done up in a tight bun, she really scared the hell out of me.

     She touched the front of my little dress and then just held out her hand.  I knew what she meant; I took it off and held it out to her.  She wouldn’t take it, she gestured toward a gray waste basket, in the corner.  I went over there and dropped it in. I was more scared of her than I was to be naked there in front of everybody.  When I turned to come back, she put up her hand.  She wanted me to stay there.

     She talked to Yasmin and Hector but not to me.  She told them she had rooms for them to stay the night and they could drive back in the morning.  She turned to her left and then I noticed two slavegirls standing near the back of the room. They were so quiet that I didn’t even notice them before.

     “Andrea,” she said loudly, “Show Master Hector and Mistress Yasmin to their cabins.”  One of the slavegirls hurried forward and opened the door for Yasmin and Hector.  She was dressed sorta like Mistress Regina; her dress was all ivory lace with brown organdy trim the opposite of Mistress Regina’s.  It didn’t really cover her up at all.

     The rear door opened and another woman swept into the room, in a black leather gothic dress, with stark, white lace trim.  She was shorter than Mistress Regina, but taller than me.  She was followed by a tall blond slavegirl, this one also wore a lace dress, and it was white lace with black leather trim.  This dress had real small leather panels over her pussy and butt. Right straight on her pussy was covered, but when she moved the dress swung around and showed her off.

     Mistress Regina told me that Mistress Fiona was my trainer and Miss Jenny would take care of me.  Mistress Fiona had a strong accent like Irish, maybe.  I had to listen carefully; she told later me she was from Cardiff, in Wales. 

     Miss Jenny had a thick, brown leather collar and wrist and ankle cuffs to put on me right then.  The collar and each cuff had a tiny padlock on it.  They felt kind of heavy on me, but she told me I’d get used to them. 

     “Come with me,” Mistress Fiona had a leash in her hand which she snapped to my collar.  She led me to their tattoo shop and Mrs. Meyers tattooed my number on permanently on the top of my right boob, 5 002 829.  She had some kind of solvent that took the indelible ink off the top of my boob, so she could put the tattoo on.  She also tattooed a Gothic ‘E’ on the left side of my left boob. It was Mistress Elena’s logo; it meant I was trained here at “Mistress Elena’s Slavegirl Academy.”

     Mistress Fiona said the red looked sharp against my light brown skin.  Everything was in kind of a rush after that.

     I remember Mrs. Meyers looking at my nipples, she reached up and took ahold of my left nipple and squeezed it gently.

     “She has pretty little nipples, Fiona, Real nice.”

     “Her owner wants ‘em pierced,” Fiona told her.

     “It’ll have to be tomorrow,” Mrs. Meyers told her.  “I have to go to my son’s ball game in about half an hour.”

     “I’ll bring her back tomorrow,” she resigned.

     Mistress Fiona turned me over to Miss Jenny, who took me to my ‘room’.  It was a cell in a small block building.  Three of the walls were vertical bars, about five inches apart, if they were six inches apart, I could have slipped between them.  The forth wall was the cement block wall of the building, painted light gray, that was the wall my bed was hooked on.  I was put into cell number 8; there was another girl across the way in number 5.  The other six cells were empty. 

     My cell had a short table, and no chair.  There were four red carpet pads on the floor; Miss Jenny told me they were for me to kneel on.  My bed was a small cot; one side was hooked to the wall.  It folded up and was locked to the wall except when I was allowed to go to bed.  I won’t be allowed to sit in chairs or on the bed; I can only kneel on one of the little pads.  I have to kneel at my little table to eat my two daily meals. At each end of the main room there was this icky pink porcelain ‘thing’. It was for my bathroom.  Out in front of each cell was a table that looked like an examination table.  Miss Jenny told me I’d have to get up on there each morning.

     “Why will I have to do that?” I asked her.  She said she would have to give me an enema.  “Yeouck!” I thought.  I know I agreed to do this for $8000 and to keep out of prison for the next 25 years, but I was still pretty scared.

     There were four sinks and four showers and four old style toilets right in the floor, built into the pink porcelain. To pee or go poop, the slavegirl had to squat over the porcelain latrine built in the one piece thing that covered the each end of the room.     Each one had a number over it, in roman numerals, mine of course was VIII. Miss Jenny would be giving me a shower, she’d wash me.  I wouldn’t even be allowed to wash myself. 

     I felt sick to my stomach after Miss Jenny told me all that.  She unlocked my bed so I could get some sleep.  I laid down, but I hardly got any sleep.  I felt like crap when Miss Jenny came back in the morning. I must have slept some, because the girl in the cell across the way was gone.

     I took a deep breath and walked over to my table, I looked it over.  She gave me time to walk all around it and just generally check it out. 

     The top was thick black leather, it didn’t look all that comfortable, and I guess comfort wasn’t its main function.   There were wide leather loops on each corner, two at the head for my wrists and two at the foot for my ankles.  Right across the top from side to side was a bolster about six inches high.  It was for me to lie over, to keep my butt raised up so Miss Jenny could give my morning enema.

     “Go ahead,” Miss Jenny said when I looked toward her.  She nodded toward ‘The Table’.  I got up on top and put my ankles through the loops, nothing happened until I put my wrists through too.   They didn’t exactly snap shut, but they closed quickly, just as Mistress Fiona walked in.

     She was pushing a small cart with a white towel draped over whatever she had on top.

Mistress Fiona watched while Miss Jenny carefully spread some kind of lubricant gel on my butt hole.  I didn’t know what kind it was, but it was cold.  Miss Jenny slowly pushed the enema tube into me.  After the tube was all the way in, the nozzle fit into my butt and wouldn’t slip out while the enema was going in.

     Mistress Fiona and Miss Jenny gave me three enemas.  The first was a pint of warm soapy water; I was released to go poop it out. Then warm clean water to wash out the soap, and then cool clean water, to make sure that the soap was all gone, and that I was all cleaned out.  After each one Miss Jenny took me up to the toilet thing so I could squat over the bowl in the floor to let the enema out.  Just as I started to squat over the latrine she pulled the butt plug nozzle thing with the enema tube through it, out.

     Mistress Fiona left, and Miss Jenny took me to the shower and washed me.  That was the first time since I was a little girl that anyone other than me touched me like that. Miss Jenny washed me very carefully, all over; she made sure that I was clean all around my butt where she gave me the enema.

     After breakfast, I was taken back to get my tongue and nipples pierced. My tongue wasn’t so bad; Mrs. Meyers pushed the hollow needle through my tongue from the bottom right through in one quick push.  She put a gold barbell with little round balls on the ends through the hole. 

     “Her little nipples are real sensitive,” Mrs. Meyers said thoughtfully.  “She may not appreciate this very much.”

     She was right; it hurt a lot when put this long handled clamp with an opening in the center on me.  It hurt even more when she pushed the hollow piercing needle through each of my nipples.  She pierced my left nipple and left the needle in while she did my right nipple.  Only then did she put the barbells in. I was pretty sore, but Miss Jenny took me back to my ‘room’ as she called it, my cell.  She even let my little bed down so I could lie down.

    

     It was a week later that Jenny took me back to the shop to get my nipples pierced again.  This time from the end into the center down to the hole she pierced across before.  Mrs. Meyers put a tiny wooden rod through the hole already there and pushed a hollow needle down to it.  The hollow needle took out a tiny little piece of my nipple flesh.  She had another gold stud that had a hole in it so the cross barbell could hold it in place.  It wasn’t very far from the end down to the hole that was already there.  My nipples were already tender from the first piercing and it hurt a lot.  I almost threw up this time, it hurt so much.  Mistress Regina looked at my nipples later.

     “Humm, that’s kind of a neat idea,” as though I had come up with some sort of fashionable jewelry design.  She didn’t care how much it hurt me.  “Your Mistress Salina has come up with a clever idea.”  Even with the crème Jenny put in the holes every night it took four months to heal completely, but I had to start training in just two weeks.

    

     After that, everything ran together, the training and all.  I guess it’s their way of training me to be a slavegirl.  I did my best, I thought, to do what they wanted of me.

   The oral training included lots of pictures and diagrams of dicks.  Mistress Fiona showed me where to lick along the bottom where it’s most sensitive.  She also expected me to make him cum in my mouth.  I never like having Steven’s dick in my mouth.  I never let him actually come in my mouth.

     Every day I had to go to the training room and give blow jobs to the men Mistress Fiona had there.  They would sit in the chairs and I had to open their pants get their dicks out and suck them off, and gently put their dicks away. I had to be careful because they were pretty sensitive after I’d sucked them off.  Then I’d crawl on my hands and knees to the next one.

     At first it was just two or three, but there were more and more.  One day I went in and there were twelve men sitting.  Mistress Fiona told me that when I gave all twelve four blow jobs in one day, I was done.

     During this time Mistress Fiona had Jenny put this thing in my butt to open me up.  She told me they were not going to make my butt hole any bigger than it could go, just to get me to open as big as I could really go.

     She showed me this butt plug that had a spring inside to push my butt hole open.  There was a key hole in the outer end that opened the inside end, it spread so I couldn’t pull the thing out, and the shank part constantly pushed me open.  There were several sizes so when I got spread as big as it would go; Jenny put the next bigger size in me.  I hated that thing; it was constantly stretching my butt.   

     When I woke up in the morning I had to go get on my table for my enema.  Jenny would take the butt plug out and put the enema nozzle in.  It had a tube on the end it went into me about six inches and then the nozzle stopped in my butt.  She gave me the three enemas every morning.

     Just like that first day, the first one was warm soapy water; I had to lay over this bolster thing on my table so my butt and pussy were raised up.  After she put the warm soapy water in me, I had to lay there for fifteen minutes.  She would get me off the table and take me to the latrine.  As I squatted she’d pull the nozzle out and all the soapy water and poop would rush out.  I had to step over to the shower and get my butt rinsed and go back to the table for another enema.   The next enema was warm clear water, to wash the soap out of me, and then cool clear water to make sure I was completely rinsed out.  After that Jenny would give me a complete shower and really wash me all over.  She had to put some kind of yellow crème in the holes pierced in my nipples.

     Then I got to eat my breakfast.  It was slave mush, kinda like oatmeal but with oats and wheat and corn, it had dried cranberries and dried blueberries and sometimes little dried pieces of apple.

     After that I had to get back up on my table to have the butt plug put back in me, it was out for about an hour and a half then it was there for the rest of the day, until Jenny took it out the next morning .

     One day I was taken to the doctor’s office for a checkup.  She told me that it would go a lot faster if I squeezed it as hard as I could, every half hour.  It would work even if I just walked around and let it do all the work, but it would take longer.

     “They are going to keep one in you until you’re spread a much as you can go.”

     “Why do they want to do this to me?” I asked her carefully.

     “It’s your owner, Ms. McDonald who chooses the things they do.”  She wanted me to be good at giving blow jobs and to have my butt opened, so when she gave me to her brother he could use me like he wanted.

     “You mean so he can….?”

     “Yes so he can use your butt for sex,” she was blunt, but I kinda understood what my place was now.

     I wasn’t a person anymore; I was just like a puppy to give to her brother.

     One morning things started the same as all the rest, but Miss Jenny called Mistress Fiona to come see my butt plug.  It was done spreading me open.  It was finally over.

     Then I went into the training room and gave the twelve men each a blow job, and I went back to the start and did it again, so that each man got two blow jobs, I swallowed it all, too.  Mistress Fiona put a rear arm-binder sleeve on me and had me go over to the ‘Dick Wall’ and kneel in front of the third row. 

     The dick wall is a wall section with bunch of all different sized silicone dildos that are arraigned in rows on the wall.  They are low enough that I could kneel in front of them and put my mouth over any one of them.  On each side are straps to hold my head to the wall.  Anyway I had to kneel there with one of the dildos in my mouth and my head strapped to the wall while they all went for a coffee break.

     When they got back it was twelve different men that I had to suck off.  It took me only one hour to do them all twice.  I would finish the blow job and swallow while I was crawling to the next one.  Mistress Fiona said it was a new record.

     I was done with that part, my butt was opened up as much as it would go, and I gave 48 blow jobs on one day.

    

     The next thing was learning oral for women.  Mistress Fiona asked me if I ‘liked’ women.

     “Not like that,” I answered.  Over the next few days I learned to lick pussies and how to ‘fist’ a woman’s pussy too.  Mistress Regina had this slavegirl named Heide to show me all about licking a woman’s pussy.

     Heide was Mistress Regina’s own slavegirl, she had strawberry blonde hair and big boobs with large pink nipples and the whole end of her boobs were pink areolas.  Her pussy was ‘closed’ to men.  She had two holes pierced in each of her inner lips and Mistress Regina put some large rings through the holes.  They were the type of CBR (captured ball ring) that have to be spread apart with a special tool that looks like mechanic’s pliers.  Heide couldn’t take the rings out herself.  She told me she hated Mistress Regina for having them put in her pussy.  She was only allowed to use her mouth, either on Mistress Regina or for Mistress Regina on her friends.  There were two men that Mistress Regina dated often and they used Heide’s butt or her mouth, too.

     Heide told me that I could get women to cum faster if I would lick and then suck their clitoris hood into my mouth.  I tried it on this woman that Mistress Regina hired for me to practice on.  It worked real well.

     It was still four months until Master Ryan’s birthday.  So I was going to take the Advanced Slavegirl Course.  The doctor was looking at my pussy one day and she said my clitoris was partly impacted.  My clit is a bit bigger than average, but the doctor said that more than half of it was covered by my hood and some was still inside my body. 

     She operated and removed part of my hood and uncovered the rest of my clitoris.  It was about an inch long now.  Two or three days later, Jenny took me to the tattoo and piercing shop and Mrs. Meyers pierced a hole through it, down by the base.  It healed real fast, just eight weeks.

      After that I had this treatment done to my pussy.  Mistress Fiona called it ‘B.C.C.’ treatment.  They hung me up by my ankles and poured this green sticky stuff into my pussy, it didn’t feel very good.  The stuff made feel all itchy inside.  I had to hang there for half an hour, then Jenny and Mistress Fiona used a suction tube to get most of it out.  They didn’t want it running all over me. 

      After that my pussy was always wet and when I got turned on juice would dribble out of me.  I was kind of uncomfortable at first, but I got used to the idea, but I still felt like such a slut when my pussy dripped.

     One day Jenny took me to the training room, she left me there with my arms in a binder sleeve.  There were three men waiting there for something.  One of them found a dental block layin’ on the desk, it’s used by dentists to keep a patients mouth open while they are asleep to do dental work. It has two hard plastic things and a heavy wire that went around the back of the patient’s head.  One man wanted to see how it worked so he put it on me; it held my mouth open.

     “You know what that’s good for!”  One of them decided to use my mouth.  I was sure it was all planned.

     They took turns fucking me in the mouth.  They held my head or my hair and just used my mouth.  Mistress Fiona came in and caught them, she made them leave.

     “Are you all right?” she came over to me.  “Oh my god, you’re all turned on.”  She started ranting and yelling at me.

     “They were raping your mouth and you got all excited!  You are a fuckin’ slut, a fuckin’ pig.”    

     She left the dental block thing in my mouth and she made me crawl, with the binder still on my arms over to the dick wall.  The rough carpet, like the stuff in a football stadium, really hurt my nipples.  When I got there she made me get on the biggest dick and she pulled my head tight against the wall, with the straps.  It filled my mouth and clear down to my throat, I could hardly breathe.  She left me there.      

     “I can’t stand such a dirty little slut!”  She was back in about two minutes.  She didn’t yell, she sounded really scary.

     She unhooked me from the wall and made me crawl, across the room to the corner where there is a set of cables that reach up to the ceiling.  She took the binder off and hung me up by my wrists.  She walked away, leaving me hanging there.

     In a few minutes she was back and had a whip.  She started whipping me on the top of my back.  She worked her way down my back, over my butt and down each leg to my heels.  It really stung, I was sure blood was running down my back.

     Then she stepped to the right and whipped my right side, from my arm pit all the way down my leg to my right ankle.  The whip came around and hit my right boob and my nipple, which really hurt.

     Then she did my left side.  She stepped around in front and started whipping with my left armpit.  She worked all down my left side to my ankle bone there.

     Then she stepped to my right whipped my front.   She started right below my chin and worked her way down.  She whipped both of my boobs, which hurt so much.  She kept going down over my belly and right down the front of my legs and even beat the tops of my feet.  She made Jenny hook these ropes to my ankles and pull my legs apart.  She beat the inside of both my legs and thighs.  When she got to the tops of my legs she beat me right on my pussy.

     She threw the whip down and left.

     Jenny took me down, and helped me to my cell.  While we were leaving, I saw that the whip was not leather, but braided cloth.  Although it hurt a lot, it didn’t draw blood, or leave any scars.  I didn’t realize the significance of that until later.  I never saw Mistress Fiona again. I heard later she went to England for vacation. 

     I didn’t sleep too well that night, but it gave me time to think about my place in the world, now.  I’m really a slavegirl, truly the same as an animal, and I have no rights.  I can only do what I’m told.  I’m not even allowed to wash myself in the shower… No,,, I’m not TRUSTED to wash myself in the shower. I finally cried myself to sleep.

     About two days later Miss Jenny told me they were going to start getting me ready to ship to my owner in California.  After we were done, with my enema, I knelt at my table and Miss Jenny brought me about half of my usual breakfast.  She also had a big glass of juice.  Mistress Regina came out and told me that I’d only have juice for the next two days and then water for a day after that, I would be packed and shipped to California.  They had to get me there in time for Master Ryan’s birthday surprise.  Miss Jenny had to leave and I didn’t get a chance to ask what she meant by ‘shipped’.  It really scared me, too.

     Miss Jenny woke me up real early in the morning.  She was naked; she wasn’t wearing even the lace dress.  I got up on my table and she gave me a warm water enema, I couldn’t smell any soap.  She got done with my shower and had me get back on my table and just put my wrists and left ankle through the loops and leave my right ankle out.  Mistress Regina came in and had the doctor and a nurse, in a white dress with the nurse’s cap.  I didn’t know what was going to happen and I was really scared.

     Dr. Moore and Nurse Anne were there to start getting me ready to ship to my new home, in California.  Nurse Anne put white latex gloves on and stuck an intravenous port in my right leg, just above my ankle.  She wrapped tape around it and wiped it off with a tiny alcohol pad.  Dr. Moore gave her a hypo to inject into me, through the port.  In a few minutes, I started to feel better.

     Mistress Regina made Jenny go over to the side and kneel on a pad.  I realized that she was a slavegirl like me.  Training is about the only job that can be done by a slave.  All other jobs must be performed by free women and some men.  Many men don’t really work; some have several women they have to satisfy.  Male Reproductive is the title that really means something.  Mistress Regina once told me that they are really, unbelievably rich. 

     Nurse Anne had a soft sponge thing that she used to lubricate my butt hole.  It was kinda cold when she pushed it into me.  She pushed a special flexible butt plug in, and turned the end.  I could feel it open inside me.  I didn’t mind too much, the shot they gave was working, plus I’d had so many different things put into my butt that this didn’t seem like much.

     Mistress Regina stepped to the side of the table and pressed the release button, “Arms,” was all she said.  The wrist loops opened and as I pulled my arms out, Mistress Regina laid the arm binder on my back. I put my arms over the binder and held them there as she zipped it together and pushed the Velcro tight over the zipper.

Nurse Anne had two soft, white cloth bags she pulled over my hands.

     I moaned softly when Doctor Moore pushed the smooth applicator for some white cream she wanted to put in my bladder, and to fill my urethra. 

     “What’s that for?” I complained.

     “You’re going to have a catheter in there for three or four days,” she said.  “I want to put this anti-inflammatory cream in first.”  She squeezed the tube as she pulled the applicator out, to fill my urethra with the cream.  She immediately pushed the catheter into me.  I felt the end click open as it went into place.  The doctor pulled gently to make sure it was secure inside my bladder.  The other end went to a dark bag, to catch my urine.

     The three of them lifted me from the table to a wheeled gurney.  After they got me on the gurney, Nurse Anne had me lay on my back and pull my knees up to my chest, she had a wide strip of white paper-tape to put around the catheter and then on my pussy so it held my pussy lips closed.  It felt awful, there was a folded part right on the top of my pussy, and it could be pulled off easily, at the other end.

     Mistress Regina had me lay on my side with my knees drawn up so she could push me and the cart to the shipping department.   We went out the door and to a building I’d never been in, but I’d seen the sign “Shipping” over the door.  Until now I didn’t really know what it was for.  Mistress Regina pushed the gurney into the first room and stopped.  She looked down and smiled at me.  She leaned down and gave me a kiss on the side of my head, just beside my eye.  She turned and went out the door.

     “Wow, I’ve never seen her do that before,” Doctor Moore said to Nurse Anne.  “She must like this one a lot.”  Nurse Anne just smiled as she pulled two more white cloth bags on my feet. 

     She had two small cotton cloth things that she wrapped around my nipples and some more of the paper tape to stick them on me.  She smiled at me, and winked, “We’ll do the rest when we get in the clean room.”

     In a few minutes the door clicked and a white light came on over the door, Nurse Anne pushed the door open with my gurney as she pushed me into the room.  There were two other girls getting prepared to ship, too.

     The first girl was laying in the shipping case and the nurse was putting a gas mask lookin’ thing over her face.  She had a catheter sticking out of her pussy but didn’t have tape on her pussy or little pads on her nipples.  I noticed the top of the case they were putting her in was stenciled: “CAUTION – Live animal”

     The girl on the table next to me was getting more stuff done to her. The nurse working on her was putting a tube into her nose; it was going all the way down to her stomach.

     Nurse Anne had a pink tube to put into my stomach too.  She told me it was for feeding while I was in the case.

     She pushed it into my nose and I felt it come out of the opening in the back of my throat. Nurse Anne told me to swallow so she could push the tube in without causing me to gag.  After the tube was in, I tried to talk, but nothing came out.  Nurse Anne just smiled.

     “I have another one for water, too,” she said as she held up a blue tube.  It looked a little bit bigger that the pink tube.  I swallowed to get it in too.  The other ends of the two tubes were hooked to a square black box; Dr. Moore called it a feeding computer.

     “It’ll give you one-half an ounce of nutrition gel every hour and an ounce of water every half-hour.”  I’d get food and water while I was in the box and the catheter would drain me if necessary.   There was a gas mask looking thing for me, too.  It had a hose that went to a green gas bottle that had sleep gas in it.  Nurse Anne said it was twilight sleep gas.

     Three women came over and lifted me up and lowered me into the case, and Nurse Anne slipped the mask over my face.  I could hear them talking as the top was screwed onto my box.  I heard the doctor telling them she was turning the gas on.  It smelled funny, and tasted worse.  I tried not to breathe it, but I finally had to take a breath……

El Rancho Mardock

     I opened my eyes, the mask was gone, I tried to figure out why I was still here and not off in California somewhere.  The tubes were still in my nose and I still couldn’t talk, but I lifted up my head and tried to look around, but everything seemed dark gray and fuzzy, like there was no lights on.

     “Salina, looks like she’s awake,” a woman’s voice said softly, barely above a whisper.  I looked up and saw the woman who bought me from Mr. Ramos.  Mistress Salina smiled as she leaned close to my face.

     “Let’s get her unpacked, doctor,” she said to the woman I heard.  “After we get her washed up, you’ll see how good she looks.”  I tried to smile back at her, but I’m not sure I did.

     I don’t remember much of what happened until the next day.  I mostly just rested, and they didn’t want Master Ryan to find out about me, yet.  I was his birthday surprise.

In the evening I was feeling better; my groom took me to the dental office.  The hygienist was real nice as she cleaned my teeth.  She told me I had a real nice smile.

     Then it was Friday, Master Ryan’s birthday.  I opened my eyes to see my ‘groom’ Rosetta.  She was tall and big, well, chubby.  Her black, smiling face was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes that morning.  She was real tall, at least five feet and ten inches tall.

     The room I was in wasn’t really a slavegirl facility.  It was in the rear of a ponygirl barn.  There was a table but no big latrine and shower thing.

     “Come on sweetheart,” she could talk and smile at the same time.  “Let’s get you ready for today.”  I felt pretty good, rested and cheerful.  Rosetta directed me to my table, ‘Go ahead, and get up on top.”  I sighed and climbed up on the soft leather top of the table.  She gave me an enema, but only one, not three like at Mistress Elena’s.    She made me lay there on the table for nearly half an hour. I felt the first wave of a cramp while she was unhooking my wrists.  Ponygirls go outside, on the ground.  Since I was being kept secret I couldn’t go outside.  Someone had modified a toilet by removing the seat so I could squat over it.  Once when I had to use a bad gas station toilet, I hovered over the seat cause it was too nasty looking to touch.  This was kinda like that.

     After I was done she led me out to the ponygirl shower room, to get me washed up.  There was a groom there cleaning one of the shower stalls, Rosetta called her Jill.  She wanted to help with Master Ryan’s present, too.  She insisted she give me my shower.  It didn’t take her very long and I was all washed and shampooed.

     Right after she had lunch Rosetta took me to have my make-up done for Master Ryan’s birthday party.  I told her I had done my make up for a long time, and at Mistress Elena’s there were make-up lessons. 

     “Salina has some special plans for your make-up today,” she said softly.  The woman was real nice to me, but I didn’t get to see until she was done, and Mistress Salina had seen me.  

     “Wow, she’s real good,” I said about the beautician.  She had put dark eye shadow all around my eyes and used sparkled gold lines all around.  I looked very exotic and pretty sexy too.  She also put the gold nipple jewelry on me; straight posts through the holes across my nipples and a tiny gold cap on the end that was held in place by the lower cross pins.

      “Does she want me to darken her nipples, too?” she asked Rosetta.

     “No, Salina likes these pale lil’ nips,” Rosetta answered.    

     Rosetta had a black leather collar to put on me.  The collar was beautiful, with gold trim and a gold padlock to secure it to my neck.  There were also pale tan stockings, the kind that stay up and expensive black leather platform spike heels.  There was an ankle strap with a gold padlock to keep the shoes on me.  The locks matched the one on my collar. I could never find stockings that stayed up, at least that I could afford, these stayed up just fine.  She led me to a mirror to see everything that was done. 

     At about 2 in the afternoon Rosetta led me to Master Ryan’s office suite, I had on the fancy shoes and the collar and a rear, binder sleeve.   It was on the third floor of his huge house.  We got off the elevator and walked down the wide hallway.  Rosetta told me about the place as we walked along, the first door on the left was Master Ryan’s private suite, his bedroom and sitting room. Right across the hall was the door to Mistress Salina’s rooms.  There was a covered section in the wall on the left side of the hall too.  About twenty feet farther was the door for Master Ryan’s office, also on the left side of the hallway.  At the very end of the hall were the doors to the meeting and ballroom.

      She led me into the large office.  The walls were covered with natural wood paneling.  She told me it was Pecan wood; it was real bright and pretty. There was a huge birthday present with red ribbon and a red bow in the middle of the floor.  The back of the present was open and when she led me inside I could see the slave stand.

     “Oh, no,” I moaned.  “Please not that….”  I tried to pull back, but Rosetta held me tightly.   She pulled me over the slave stand, I stood there while she stepped on the foot pedal to raise the stand, and the end rose up and pushed into my pussy. 

     “Damn, how deep is yo’ cunt, I never ran one this far up.”  She kept pushing the pedal so the staff rose into me.   The staff of the slave stand went in nine inches, and I was already starting to make a lot of lubricant, I could feel it dripping out of me.

      Mistress Salina came over to see how it was going; she could see that I really didn’t like the slave stand.

     “You’ve been on a stand before, eh?” she asked,

     “Yes ma’am,” I said softly.  “Mistress Regina had one in her office that I had to stand on.”  Slave stands were developed in Europe in the 17th century to keep slave women in place.  They had an upright staff that was solid in the ground and went up into her pussy, to keep her in place.

     This one was mounted in a raised dais.  The staff was oval shaped two inches front to rear and just one inch wide, to keep me from turning around.  I could have turned, but it would be uncomfortable.  All they would have done was get a bigger staff.  I hated it, I was a slavegirl and I had no humility left, but being trapped by my pussy was too demeaning even for me.  Rosetta closed the rear of the ‘present’ and I was enclosed.

     I wasn’t there for very long and Master Ryan came in, I heard everyone yell “Surprise” in a few minutes he was tearing the paper off me.

     Wow, he was handsome, about six, four or five with tanned skin and dark hair that just came over the tops of his ears.  He had wide shoulders and chest and long legs.  It wasn’t going to be too hard for them to make me screw him, or lick his dick.  He smelled nice, too.

     “Whew, she’s a pretty little thing,” he finally said.  He walked slowly around me and looked me over carefully.

     “She looks like a lollypop, how do I get her off that thing?”  Rosetta stepped on the round red button on the floor.  It was at the far end, behind me so I couldn’t reach it myself.  The staff slid slowly as it pulled out of my pussy.  She put a leash on my collar and led me over to Master Ryan.  He kept me close by for the rest of the day, and I had the binder on the rest of the day too.  Rosetta took it off me in the evening, so I could eat my dinner.

     I knelt on the floor beside Master Ryan, so he could feed me from his plate.  He gave me little bits of his salad (with blue cheese dressing) and small bites of his steak.  It was really good after slave mush for the last few months.  Spanish people, like my dad, have their steak real thin and well done.  Master Ryan likes really rare and thick steaks.  I’d never had it this way before, it was delicious.

     Rosetta came by to get me ready for tonight before she went home for the evening.  She had the same ponygirl groom with her, Jill.  They took me down to the slavegirl facilities, in the basement, under the kitchen.  The huge house was built on a hill, so from the front, it’s three stories, but from the rear it’s four.  The basement is like the bottom floor from the back.  Right there at the rear of the house is the slavegirl area.  I’d never been there before; they kept me out in one of the barns so Master Ryan wouldn’t see his birthday surprise.

     There were six cells, two large cells on one wall, and four smaller cells across the way.  The large cells were on the outer wall and each had a window.  Actually mine had two windows.  There was a double size bed in my cell too.  At Ramos Slave Services and Mistress Elena’s I only had a cot size bed.  Even at home, growing up I only had a single size bed, this was like deluxe accommodations, especially for a slavegirl.  There was a table there for me, too.  I sighed and went to the table, Rosetta and Jill waited while I climbed up on the top.  Rosetta had to adjust the bolster so my butt was available to her.  This table had a motorized top and bolster so Rosetta just had to press a couple of buttons to get adjusted for me.  Before she gave me an enema Rosetta took my fancy shoes and stockings off.  She gave me the enema and took me to the latrine thing to let it out.  Jill washed my butt and pussy and led me back to the table so Rosetta could put some lubricant on my butt.  Then they led me back upstairs to Master Ryan’s suite.

      

     Master Ryan got up early every morning, se he went to bed early, too.  We went to his room about 9:30 to go to bed.  He wanted me to suck him off, and I did.  I did everything Mistress Fiona taught me.  I was careful not to make him cum too soon, so he could enjoy it more, after about five minutes though I had to make him cum.  His dick was so big around that it made my jaw muscles hurt from being open so far.  I licked along the bottom and made sure the end of my tongue jewelry touched the sensitive underside of his dick.  He spurted into my mouth and I tried to swallow it all.  He really put out a lot of semen. It made quite a mess, and dripped off my lips. 

     I was afraid he’d be mad, but he laughed.  I finally got all that I had in my mouth down, and I laughed too.

     “I get a lot of money to supply semen to fertility clinics,” he said.  “So I take a supplement to make a lot.”  I just nodded.  “You just swallowed $50,000 worth of cum, and spilled $10,000 worth.”

     “It was more than I ever expected,” I answered.  “I’m sorry about the mess.”  He just shrugged and threw the pillows off the bed, and got some more from the closet.

     He had me lay on the bed so he could put a rear, crossed arm binder on me. 

     “I don’t know you real well, yet.  So we’ll use this for tonight.”  After my arms were secured he snuggled up to my back.  The next thing I felt was his dick against my butt.  He pushed until it was all the way inside, and his belly was tight against my back.  It was about then I realized we were going to sleep with his dick in my butt.  I laid there awake for a long time, but it felt kinda good to be there with a powerful man.

    

     “Come on, sleepyhead,” Rosetta said as she shook my shoulder.  I opened my eyes, it was morning and Master Ryan was gone.  “He’s in the shower,” she said when she saw me looking around.

     “I have to pee,” I said quickly.  Rosetta led me out into the hallway, and to the left.  The side of the hall was open and there was a pure, shining white slavegirl latrine in the big alcove.  It was beautiful; not porcelain, but hand carved white alabaster.  It was all four of the stations; a latrine bowl with foot pads and a sink, a shower and a spot for my groom to stand to wash me in the shower.

     There was also a table that sat on arms from the alcove, too.  I looked around at the people walking to Master Ryan’s office.  Rosetta let me go to pee before I had to get on the table.

     There were ten or fifteen women and three men chatting as they went past going to his office, and then returning with manila files. 

     “Do I have to do this right here?” I said in a loud whisper.

     “Yes.”

     I had tears in my eyes as she pushed a pre-lubricated tube into my butt, for my enema.  All the people walking by had gone, and we were alone.  After I let it out, she gave me a shower, right there in the hallway alcove, too.  I kept looking around for more women to walk by.

     “What you lookin’ for?” Rosetta demanded.

     “Everybody can see my private parts,” I answered softly.

     “You’re a damn slavegirl!  You don’t have no private parts,” she said gruffly.  She was right, but up till now I was just in the company of a few people who I knew and knew me.  Now anyone walking by could see me, it felt pretty public to me.  These people in the hallway were Master Ryan’s supervisory staff.  They stopped by his office to get paperwork and schedules for their departments.

     Before she took me back, Rosetta lubricated my butt with some clear body lube.  Then she took me back to Master Ryan’s suite, and right on through to his balcony.  He was sitting at the table, getting ready to eat his breakfast.  He had me sit on a chair.

     “You want me to sit here?” I was making sure it was all right.

     “It’d be inconvenient to kneel here,” he smiled y he’s not at me.  “I don’t want to feed your breakfast, and nobody’s around.”  He looked around like he was making sure.  He was pretty nice to me, he even gave me coffee.

     We sat and talked for a while, I told him about Steven, or John, whatever his name was, and shooting the neighbor girl.  He told me about being a male reproductive, and how women try to get him to screw them.  He will only impregnate them through the fertility clinics, that way he’s the donor not the father of the children.

     He said he had to go and see someone, he wouldn’t see me again until Wednesday afternoon.  I mentioned that Rosetta lubed my butt; he looked at his watch, and just shook his head.

     “We talked too long,” he said, and chuckled.

     “Want me to go under there?” I asked and lifted the corner of the tablecloth.

     “That’s ok.  I enjoyed our chat.  It was pretty nice.”  He stood up and dropped his white napkin on his chair; he ran his fingers through my hair.

     “You can wait here for someone to come get you.  Have another cup of coffee,” he said as he left.  I poured one more cup of coffee, and just finished it as Rosetta came to get me.

     Monday morning my permanent groom Estella came in with Rosetta.  After she introduced me, Rosetta left.   She looked so much like Rosetta; when I said that, she told me Rosetta was her mother.  Mistress Salina had sent her to a nearby school for a short course in handling slavegirls.  She gave me three enemas in the morning, just like at Mistress Elena’s Academy.

     The school she went to was at “The Reynolds Slavegirl Academy” Mistress Lainie also ran a slavegirl handling seminar.  She showed the grooms how slavegirls are trained and how we’re made to understand that our masters actually own us.  Estella said the idea that socially we are just the same as any pets.  They were also expected to like us.

     She also had some kind of lotion to put all over me. She did put it all over, too.  It was sort of pale pink and it smelled wonderful.  She had a big, soft sponge and applied it to me right after my shower every time.  

     “Mr. McDonald gets this stuff in a five gallon pail.  It costs, like, $4500,” she told me.  She also told me she wished she could afford this stuff for herself.  If I got two showers, I got covered with lotion twice.

     She took me to the garden to meet Master Ryan.  I wore a gold collar and had little gold chains from the collar to my nipple jewelry.  I was bare footed and had a gold ankle chain.  Estella also put red nail polish that matched my lips, on my finger nails and my toe nails.

     He was there for a ponygirl graduation.  Two girls were the top of their class; he had me masturbate both of them.  That’s how they give treats to ponygirls, not apples or carrots, orgasms.

     They pulled two carts past the front of the garden so Master Ryan and Mrs. Caster and Ms. Buoni could see them.

     In a little while two of them were brought to the garden for Master Ryan to praise.  They both did real good in his ponygirl school.  When they were passing by they didn’t seem so big, but when they were brought to the garden I saw how really tall they were.  I just stood there and smiled at them, they had to be like seven feet tall! 

     Master Ryan asked me if I had been taught how to give orgasms to women.

     “Yes, Sir,” was all I said.

     “Don’t care much for it?”

     “No, not really,” I kinda shrugged and looked toward him.  He told me I had to give the brunette two orgasms and the blonde ponygirl one orgasm.

     “Yes sir.”

     I walked up to the first ponygirl.  I thought about some odd stuff as I walked up to her.  Her boobs were about the same size as mine, but on her wide chest they looked a lot smaller.  She had a leather harness that went over her shoulders all the way down to a wide belt that went around the top of her butt.  Her nipples weren’t pierced; I believed all ponygirls had pierced nipples.   Mostly I just though……                  

“OH DAMN, SHE’S TALL!”

     My face was level with her boobs.  She had a rear, crossed arm binder on too.  I realized she was sorta helpless; all she could do was to pull the cart or wagon she was hitched to in the direction the driver wanted.

     I reached out with my left hand and touched her belly, just above her bare pussy.  She jumped a little as I slowly ran my hand down to spread her outer lips and touched her clit hood with my right hand.  I looked up at her face as I started to push two fingers into her pussy, her eyes were closed.  Her pussy was already wet and there was so much room that I put four fingers in and then right away my thumb too.  I had my whole hand moving all around inside her.  She had an orgasm right away and almost fell over, but someone stepped up behind her and pushed her forward.

     I leaned down so I could lick her hood and inner lips.  I sucked her hood into my mouth and kept moving my hand around inside.  This time it took a little longer, but she had another orgasm fairly quickly.  I looked around and then just rinsed my hands in the fountain right behind her.  I went to the other girl and gave her an orgasm too.

     Master Ryan wanted to talk to then so he had their bits taken out.  Their bits were kind strange looking, they had a part that stuck down and went through a hole pierced in each girls tongue.

     I spent the rest of the afternoon with Master Ryan and then he kept me for the night too. 

    

End of Chapter 2