“And there’s your room card, sir” The hotel clerk smiled at him and passed Chris his access card.

“Thanks!” The young tourist grinned, blushing a little. Even though she was just being professional, the clerk was cute! And her German accented English was wonderful to listen to, and a relief to hear here in the heart of Vienna. His own German was negligible at best, so it was always a relief that the staff where he was staying could speak English. He shouldered his backpack again and headed for the elevators, humming a little to himself.

Chris rode the elevator up, planning out his day, and stepped off onto the fourth floor of the hotel. Mind already well concentrated on what his first day should comprise of, he keyed the door, and then put his shoulder into it to open it. And stepped through.

“Oh, that’s odd.” The clerk who had checked Chris in, Marie, was tapping away at her system. She absently ran a hand through her blonde hair, and the careful professional ponytail it was in, and then looked over at her fellow deskmate, “Was room 4110 already meant to be booked?”

As Chris stepped into the room strong hands suddenly seized his shoulders and flung him onto the bed. He clipped the edge of it, which drove the air out of him, and he began to gasp like a landed fish. Harsh German phrases sounded behind him, the accent not the soft, rolling syllables he had come to associate with Viennese German. And then, interspersed within the alien German phrases he heard English words too. “Boy.” “Bitch.” He tried to lever himself up but was slammed back into the bed. His wrists were seized and wrenched behind him. Tight metal cuffs locked them in place.

Chris reared his head back, prepared to shout as he finally regained his breath, and then choked as a thick plug gag was pressed ruthlessly into his mouth. He still tried to shout, but found any noise he made muffled as the gag was tightened and buckled snugly behind his head. He felt whoever it was lean down, and finally identified them as definitely a woman as the intruder hissed into his ear, “Lutsch das für mich, Schlampe.” Chris moaned at the unknown words, trying to struggle against the woman, but she seemed to have no trouble controlling him, and continuing to bind him. More cuffs were clicked shut around his ankles, before the chain was pulled up and forced him into a taut hogtie. He tried to shout again, and then whimpered as he felt cold metal against his skin. The sound of scissors broke through to him as he felt his shirt beginning to be sliced off.

Chris’ head spun. What the hell was happening?

“Hmmm. Yes, definitely not meant to be checked out.” Marie’s friend mused, clicking through her own system. “Did you put someone in there?”

“Yes, I hadn’t realized.” Marie grimaced, “Just trying to help out that cute tourist boy who was here. So sweet.”

Her friend snorted, “Well not a big deal. He shouldn’t be too settled in just yet. Let’s see about finding him some alternate space.”

Chris’ situation had worsened considerably. He had been stripped entirely naked, and his assailant was now reefing thick black leather belts tightly around his body, constricting and crushing legs and arms firmly against his torso. His hogtie at least had been undone for that, but he felt like nothing more than a tightly packaged item, unable to move any of his limbs apart from wiggling his fingers and toes. A blindfold had been strapped tightly in palce as well, and his head swiveled around as he desperately tried to keep track of the woman who was doing this to him. The lunatic who had yet to even acknowledge his pleas.

As the last belt was finished up, Chris suddenly felt more leather wrap around his throat. A moment of panic made him thrash and flail around, before he realized that he wasn’t being choked out. It was a leather band that was snugly locked to his neck. He let out a guttural moan. A collar. He had been collared. What the hell was going on??

He felt lips near his ear and tried to jerk away and moan. But the woman’s bindings did too good a job, so he could only like there trussed up like a Christmas turkey while she chuckled sensually and whispered into his ear, “Oh, hat mein kleiner Sklave Angst? Ich werde dich zu meiner Schlampe machen. Meine Bondage-Schlampe.” Her hand wormed between his legs to grip his cock, which Chris was aghast to find had been enjoying this quite a bit more than the rest of him. From the laugh that the discovery drew from the madwoman, she was equally pleased at his response. He groaned into his gag, trying his best to squirm away. This was a bloody nightmare!

Down below at the concierge desk, Marie and her friend calmly and quietly tapped away at their systems, interspersed with greeting and helping other guests. Trying to find a new decent room for Chris was proving a trifle challenging, and it was some minutes before Marie managed it. She spent a bit more time printing off and scanning in the new room keys, before walking towards the elevator.

Chris whimpered in fear as hands pressed him tightly into the enclosed space of a large rolling suitcase. He babbled into his gag as more straps were fed around his body, crushing him tightly inside and securing him in place. He felt her fiddling with something on his gag, and his muffled pleas for mercy suddenly got a bit of fresh air she dragged in a clean breath through the little tunnel she had just opened up. Suddenly the woman was next to him and spoke in accented English, “Struggle too much…” suddenly the airway was pinched off and Chris bucked against his bonds for the few moments he lacked it before her fingers released the nozzle on the outside of the bag, “…and you get nothing. Relax, my slave, and enjoy the ride.”

Terrified at the lack of breathing, Chris held still while she finished strapping him into place. This woman was an absolute lunatic, and he felt paralyzed with fearful indecision. Resistance seemed like it would bring him nothing but misery at her hands. But surely someone would come along soon wouldn’t they? He needn’t resist because she couldn’t get him out of here without someone realizing it right? He felt her push thick ear buds in, immediately lessening any noise coming in down to vague buzzing and bumps, and then he felt her zip the suitcase closed. Sealing him inside.

Moments later the ear buds crackled to life, making Chris jump in his bonds, as the woman’s voice was piped in somehow. Crooning to him in german, peppered with a few English words, just enough to give him a sense of his new position. Which seemed to be summed up in “toy” “pet” “slut” and other such affectations. Chris felt the suitcase begin to move, rolling along the carpeted floor. He let out a soft, muffled moan but didn’t dare do anything louder or more obvious than that. Not while he was in the suitcase. He didn’t want the air cut off.

Marie looked up as the elevator dinged for the fourth floor. The door opened and she paused, a little taken aback. Standing near the elevator was a gorgeous, tall blonde woman. Dressed all in leathers, including some beautiful black boots, she cut a perfect picture of domineering sensuality. A large rolling suitcase was beside her, and the woman smiled with a glint in her eyes at Marie. Marie, for her part, blushed at the thoughts that went racing through her head with that smile, and nervously moved out of the way. The woman’s smile widened a little as she entered the elevator, pulling her suitcase in behind her. As Marie passed her, the woman brushed a hand across her hip and sensually purred, “Ein andermal Süße.”

Marie flushed and tried to stammer a rejoinder, but the woman just gave her a little wave right as the elevator doors closed.

Safely inside the elevator, the woman leaned back against the side, and tapped out the text she had been looking forward to sending all day, “Happy news my lovelies. I’ve acquired the pet that you will all have an opportunity to bid on this evening. Just three days from now you might be enjoying the services of this gorgeous boy for a week or more!”

By the time the extent of the mixup had been figured out by the staff, Chris’ room had been empty anyway, and he was in the back of her van heading out into the countryside. She had taken the wrong man from the right room. Something that, had they realized it at the time, would have horrified all involved. The man who this had been planned for, who had in fact requested it and paid for it, had chickened out. But since this particular scenario had required prepayment, no one involved was any the wiser. The domme simply carried on with the scenario of “innocent and inexperienced young man is kidnapped and enslaved.” More than anything else, it was the language barrier that reared its head for Chris. He could only babble in muffled English, which the domme took to be playacting. After all, her client was fluent in German and knew the safe word. English simply meant the boy was enjoying himself.

Days later, Chris was standing naked in a room. He was blindfolded, plug gagged, and his arms were cuffed at the wrists and elbows, forcing his chest to thrust out. The woman who he still had never actually seen, was busy parading him back and forth on a leash. Her crop would tap him, or strike him, or guide him depending on her mood and whether he had messed up. And he messed up a lot. He still didn’t have a clue about the German she whispered to him, snapped at him, purred at him, or screamed at him. All he knew was that she was in control, and he did his best to behave. Good behaviour usually bought him another opportunity to be ungagged so that he could plead with her to release him.

Sometimes she listened, sometimes it just earned him further punishment and a long lecture that he didn’t understand.

Now of course, he could hear other voices, apart from just his kidnapper’s voice. Other women were in the room. Looking at him, laughing at him. Mocking the fact that though he was in involuntary bondage, his cock was still hard as he was paraded back and forth. From the tone of some the comments, Chris knew he was basically being catcalled, and he blushed deeply.

For Chris, the auction went by in a confusing whirl of German, of hands caressing him, of his kidnapper disciplining him, and showcasing him. Eventually though, even with his poor understanding of German, he dimly heard some final congratulatory phrases, and some polite applause. He was about to try to struggle in his bonds, when the leash was given a sharp tug, and he was led away to a spot where he was forced to kneel. A pad had been placed there earlier, and he distantly heard the clicking of his leash being attached to the metal post nearby. He shuddered and moaned into his gag, fruitlessly squirming in his bonds.

Wondering what was to come next.

Lady Claudia stood next to the slave boy she had just bid on, her lips pursed as she looked him over. The noblewoman cut a striking figure regardless of her clothing choice, and the black leather she had selected to attend the auction enhanced her beauty all the more. Her long raven black hair was elegantly styled and gathered into a braid, and her dark brown eyes flicked over her newest acquisition.

“How would you like your slut prepared?” Domina Val asked, running a hand over the boy’s head and drawing a plaintive moan from the slave.

Claudia tapped her lips a moment longer and then decided.

“A pony slave.”

“Excellent. I can have him delivered to you for this weekend?”

“Splendid. My stables will be prepared.”

Claudia took delivery of him in her grand isolated manor. A local noblewoman, she still retained extensive family lands, and an excellent reputation in the community as a leader, and pillar of the scattered villages and towns. For Chris though, this introduction to Claudia was the harshest part as he strained to learn German commands all while having his status as a pony drilled into his head. Claudia could speak flawless English, with an alluring accent, but demanded he learn German commands and understand her native tongue. After all, as a slave he had to be responsive to his owner. Chris was kept bound, gagged, and collared at all times, though the blindfold was now only bestowed on him at night. At least he could see now, though sight only reinforced the helplessness of his situation.

Claudia, for her part, took only a couple of weeks to realize that the boy was genuinely confused as to why he was here. That what she had bought at auction was an actual slave. A boy who had been genuinely forced into captivity and bondage, and now served her as a pony. A boy who now responded to Crimson Fire, rather than his silly human name. It was an absolute thrill, something she had privately fantasized about at length with many of her playmates over the years. Something that, now that it was here, made her hesitate.

For only a few moments.

Once she had realized her boy’s actual situation, she decided to integrate a little tradition. Every Sunday she pulled her ponyboy from his stall. She would massage his shoulders, sensually tease him, and then unlock the chastity cage. His bit gag would be withdrawn, and he would be given a chance to speak. And then her pony would recite the words that she had taught him. The only words he was allowed to speak, ever, this one time in his week:

“Danke, dass Sie mich zu Ihrem Pony gemacht haben, Herrin. Bitte behalte mich noch eine Woche in deinem Stall. Ich möchte dein Pony sein.”

He would repeat the phrases. She would coo at him, stroking his cock, asking if he was sure. He would nod desperately. Claudia would congratulate him on being such a good boy, a good pony, and would re-gag him and jerk him off to completion. Then she would lock his chastity back on and dismiss him back to his stall. All her pony knew was that by repeating the phrases, by confirming the phrases, he was granted an orgasm which she otherwise denied him at all other points during the week. Of course, had he known what he as actually saying, what he was actually begging for, no doubt her pony would be far more recalcitrant about his recitation.

Because what Claudia was actually demanding of him, was that he say: “Thank you for making me your pony boy mistress. Please keep me for another week in your stables. I want to be your pony.”

Her Crimson Fire begged every week to be kept as a pony by his Lady. Begging for his captivity to continue on, and on, and on. Though as far as he knows, it was simply a bundle of German words that got him an orgasm. Not suspecting at all that he was effectively consigning himself anew, every week, to further slavery. Further life as a ponyboy to Lady Claudia.

Claudia delights in this, that every week he unknowingly requests that his captivity be extended. Only Claudia and her pony knew otherwise. And Chris, who responded as naturally now to Crimson Fire as he did to his old name, hadn’t the faintest idea about any of it. The long months of captivity and training had taken their toll on his mental ability to resist. The initial mix up of the kidnap was long, long ago now. Domina Val moving on to new clients, new scenarios. It was little concern of hers what two adults agreed on between them. And Claudia’s pony, her Crimson Fire, sounded so delightfully earnest when he spoke his phrases. Certainly that came through in the recordings of them which she sent to Domina Val to reassure her in the first couple of months that the boy she had auctioned off had found a true home and calling as a permanent submissive.