This is part of a voter-driven story. After each scene is posted, a new poll will be put up so voters can collectively decide what happens next.
Content Warnings: BDSM Fantasy, non-consensual, bondage slavery, bondage, handcuffs, ballgags, slave auction, voter-driven, ponyplay, pony slave, maledom, M/f, mentioned lesdom, F/f
“Next up is our second college girl—from the same school as Madam Turner’s new girl, believe it or mot—a feisty twenty-year-old athlete!”
The Asian-American slave up for sale instantly proved the “feisty” label correct by shooting a ferocious glare at everyone in the room. At Rosa, at her handler when he pushed her forward, and at all the customers about to bid on her. It was perfect. Rosa could already see interest glimmering up in several eyes. Not in every eye, but enough that Rosa knew she was going to get some high bids. Feisty, defiant slaves always made good money.
“Just look at her, ladies and gentlemen, everything about this slave is tight and compact. Lot Number Five ran, swam, and played soccer in her old life. She won her fair share of medals, too, kept herself in fantastic shape, and now her owner will be able to reap the benefits!”
The slave didn’t like hearing any of this, and she didn’t like the way Rosa started showing off her assets with her hands either. Her face scrunched up even more than it already had been. It was adorable. She didn’t fight back, she was too smart for that, but she squirmed as the auctioneer’s hands presented her perky breasts, her visible abs, and her firm little ass for the buyers.
“As you can probably see, she’s not too happy about her new life. But don’t worry, everyone. She knows who’s in charge. As long as you keep her tied up and aren’t afraid to show her who’s in charge, she won’t make any serious trouble for you. Only enough to be more fun to play with!
“Bidding will begin at $20,000.”
__________
Winner: A playful pony trainer
__________
Dana knew she was in serious trouble when the kidnappers did something they hadn’t done once for her or for any of the other captives after she was done being sold. Not when any of them were first abducted, not when they were being “trained” to be good little sex pets, and not during this entire demented auction.
They felt sorry for her.
“Did you see who bought her?” Asked the man holding her leash, shaking the damn thing up and down while he pulled her along and she stumbled and struggled not to trip in these fucking high boots. He was addressing one of the others. Dana couldn’t even see whose leash that one was hiding.
“No. Why?”
“It was that pony trainer.”
There was a low whistle somewhere, another one of the kidnappers listening in. “No kidding?”
“Yeah, I saw him smilin’ and getting all excited when Rosa said he won.”
“Damn,” said the man who was holding the other leash. Dana saw it was Sabrina on the other end, but was kept from making eye contact when the man leaned over her. “Tough luck there, babe. I saw that video producer bidding high on you, too bad you’re not going to the studio.”
Dana blinked, stunned out of her usual scowl. What the hell was going on? They hadn’t reacted like this for Ashley or Whitney or anyone else. What was a pony trainer? Did that mean her—ugh—buyer was going to tattoo ponies on her?
“I’m surprised he was even invited. I thought the boss didn’t like working with the pony types.”
“Money’s money. If the man pays, the boss’ll let him in.” That one was the man holding Dana’s leash again. He turned back to her. “Tough break there, slut. But you can worry about that later. It’s almost time to get you and the rest shipped out.
With that, their conversation moved on and they stopped paying attention to any of their victims, not until the last auction was done. In the meantime Dana was left wondering just what that was all about, and trying to ignore the creeping sense of dread that was setting in.
__________
Six weeks later
“And how’s my pretty girl doing today?”
Dana snarled at him and his sneering, smirking face. Asshole.
Timmy just laughed. Laughed, and reached his hand out to start petting her on the head. She badly wanted to squirm away from his touch, but she didn’t. That never worked. He’d just snap that leash on and pull her in close. There was no point in trying it. All she could do was grimace and glare.
“Not doing so good, huh? Did you have a bad sleep?” He was fixing her hair now, smoothing it out and making sure her ponytail was in good condition.
Dana stamped her “hoof” booted foot, angry with herself for doing it, but it was one of the only things he might react to. Timmy just ignored her when she tried to talk because, in his own words, “ponies don’t speak.”
As things stood, he only seemed to take that angry stamp as a yes. “Well don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll get you woken up real quick. We’re gonna have all kinds of fun today!”
“Mmmmph!” Dana shouted at him through the horrible, awful, humiliating bit in her mouth.
Predictably, his only replay was another laugh, followed by a tug on her leash. With no other options, Dana sullenly followed him out of her stall. She trod after the taller, muscular man in his jeans and cowboy hat. He never seemed to stop smirking and laughing at whatever of this hellhole’s prisoners he was dealing with, as if he was talking to actual horses. Dana might be tempted to think he was insane, if she didn’t hear him talking to the other trainers. These people knew exactly what they were doing.
Dana was careful to raise her knees high as she walked, perpendicular to her straight-backed body. The posture collar and the armbinder helped with that more than she cared to admit. It was even attached to the leather body harness she was stuck in, even further limiting her arm movement and locking her posture in place. After the weeks she’d been stuck in this position, the soreness in her shoulders had gradually vanished. She was getting used to it.
The whole ensemble–the harness, the collar, the hoof-shaped boots that went up to her knees, and even the bit in her mouth–were a bright crimson color. It was a near match to the tight PVC “outfit” Dana’s kidnappers had originally stuffed her in at the auction. Timmy said he liked that color on her and went out of his way to keep her in it. Even the pony name he forced on her but barely ever used–Seeing Red–was as much a reference to the color of her “tack” as it was to her temper.
“She’s spirited,” he’d explained to another one of the trainers at this hellish, so-called farm a few days after he’d brought her here. “Spunky. A lot of fire in her, it’ll be useful as all hell if I can train her up without losing it.”
Dana tried to ignore the sights, sounds, and the smells of the barn as she was pulled past the other stalls and the human ponies trapped inside. She used to try and catch their eyes, nod at them, give them any kind of sign. Sometimes she still did, but mostly she just kept her eyes forward now.
Timmy started whistling a jaunty tune when they made it outside, the cool morning air almost bracing in comparison to the stuffy interior of the barn. The sun was still crawling upwards, dawn only halfway done. Dana tried to enjoy the morning even as she ignored the way her nipples perked up in the chill.
Soon enough, they made it to the training corral.
“Alright, pretty girl,” said Timmy as he shut the gate and clipped off her leash. “Take a look around. I was up nice and early setting everything up. You see all the obstacles?”
Dana looked, immediately spotting the little hurdles stuck a little bit off the ground. There must have been at least a dozen of them. She saw them alright. But she didn’t nod or stamp her foot or do anything to answer his question, because he wasn’t really asking. Real ponies didn’t understand human questions, and as far as people like Timmy were concerned, neither did human ponies. No matter how much evidence there was to the contrary.
But she did turn back to him, and he smiled at her.
“You’re gonna jump over them today. Every single one. And for every five perfect jump you get–remember, that means one leg stays perfectly straight and the other perfectly bent–I’ll give you a sugar cube later. I know how much you love those little treats.”
Dana did love the sugar cubes. She hated herself for that. But when the only other food she could eat was that tasteless, mucky gruel she was fed, you took what you could get.
“If you get fifty perfect jumps, I’ll give you a whole apple! Doesn’t that sound good?”
A soft, pathetic whine escaped Dana’s throat. Timmy chuckled.
“And if you can get to one hundred perfect jumps, then I’ll get my friend Carla over here to give you a nice, good orgasm. I just know you’ll love that.”
Dana’s breath hitched. She started breathing faster. Carla, the wavy haired Latina woman Timmy liked to pal around with… she was gorgeous. Always wearing tight white riding pants and brown boots to match, beneath a flannel shirt and her own cowgirl hat.
The two friends, both patrons of this stable that let people store and train their ponies here, had an agreement. They went to each other when they wanted to give their ponies the ultimate reward. Carla’s slave was a tall, amazonian blonde woman she would hand over to Timmy. Dana had seen it, she’d been given a front row seat in Carla’s arms while Timmy filled his end of the bargain, and Timmy had been promising Dana from day one that he would have Carla reciprocate.
Dana had never liked men, had known she was a lesbian just about as soon as you could know that kind of thing. Timmy knew that. Dana was sure it had been in that damn catalog that bitch Rosa had been thumbing through right before the auction. After two months of seeing just ponies, their trainers, and only ever being touched by Timmy or the ranch hand Carl, she was aching for a woman’s touch more than she ever thought possible.
This was only the third time he’d offered this to her, offered to get his friend to help pleasure his pony slave. If she succeeded, it would be the first time she earned it.
“I can see you’re excited,” Timmy said in a low, satisfied voice.
Dana grimaced, trying hard to shove it all down. She hated this. Hated every single part of this.
But she’d do it. Train. Perform. Be his perfect little “show pony.”
What choice did she have?
“Well, no time to waste then,” Timmy’s voice cut into her mind. “Let’s get you warmed up with a few practice laps and then get started! Like I said, we’re gonna have fun today!”