A Rough Ride: Pony Girl Training in Latex and Leather (21 page)

'Great,' said Mark darkly. 'Well, my thanks to you, Khalil. You've given me plenty to think about. Keep on the case and see what else you can dig up.'

'Oh, before you hang up there's one more thing you should know.'

'Go on,' said Mark, thinking that whatever Khalil had held in reserve till the end couldn't trump the information he'd just divulged about Kyle.

'Michael Redcliff isn't Miss Redcliff's biological father.'

Cleaning Duty

Jenny was not upset when the session upon the hot walker abruptly ended. Kyle was unpleasantly rough as her bridle was unfastened and when he dragged her forward by her reins, he used so much force she thought she'd been fired from a catapult. It was clear that the blonde lady was up to no good, again. Unfortunately, Jenny hadn't been able to catch a word of the conversation; her hood and the sound of plodding hooves had seen to that. One thing was for certain, though, the lady looked like she had a mean streak in her at least a mile wide and it could easily rival her new trainer's...

Marching her forward with his lethally long strides, Jenny had to trot three steps to keep up with his one. Even though they were now on grass, her balance did not improve due to the awful pace he was setting. No quarter was to be given for her 'trainee' status, it appeared. She was breathing heavily in seconds, having not yet recovered from the light exercise session of the hot walker, and when Jenny finally spied her Louis Vuitton luggage and a small cart in the distance, she wanted to stamp her hooves in protest. Surely they were not going to go through this farce again? There was no way she would be able to pull around her eight suitcases without giving herself a hernia the size of a beach ball.

'Right, you've had your warm-up, now it's time for you to get down to the main event. You need to earn your collar. You're the only trainee who hasn't managed to achieve her yellow collar and I am not going to look like a second-rate trainer while you drag your heels around. Get your butt into that cart and get ready to pull for all you're worth, P.' Kyle gave her already smarting backside an extremely good wallop with the flat of his hand and wasted no time in securing her to the one lonely cart which appeared stranded on the practice field.

When the arms of the sulky were threaded through her corset, the strain of the cart was almost crippling. Her body already felt sluggish, tired and weary beyond belief, so there was little chance she would be able to accomplish the same task that had proved impossible on a freshly rested body just a couple of days ago.

'Pull!' Kyle was standing in front of her brandishing a mean-looking, whippet-thin crop. Jenny's bruised body, still smarting from the flogger, shuddered at the thought of what the whip might do. Her feet stumbled for purchase on the dry earth and she sunk her heels in with purposeful intent. How hard could this be? 'If I have to say move again, P, your ass will regret it.'

Jenny would have liked to mention that he had not actually said 'move' the first time, but getting that little snippet past the gag would be nigh on impossible, not to mention stupid. Kyle lacked a sense of humour gene. He certainly made up for it with the mean and nasty gene, which was more than a little disconcerting. She wondered if he was conscienceless enough to rival her father. Suspecting she did not want to delve into that thought too deeply, she braced herself to take the strain of eight impressively-sized leather luggage cases.

After contorting and straining her body into every position imaginable in order to get enough traction to enable her to pull her cart forward, Jenny was coming to terms with the idea that the thick, white, uncomfortably high collar she wore might be hers for life. Straining this way and that with all her might, the thing would not budge an inch. She even grunted under the effort of trying to move the unwilling beast behind her, and she had been carefully taught that ladies did not grunt. Ever. The whip connected with her backside and she howled.

'Pull!' Kyle was visibly agitated after his conversation with Katrina and it appeared Jenny's backside was going to provide the means of lessening his frustrations with the world. The spitefully hard blows of the crop should have burned like fire into her tenderised skin, but the latex suit had woken up again and was doing its thing. The dildos were quickly expanding, and this time she felt no pain as both channels were dilated, just a hot rush of pleasure and sticky fluid settling at the base of her crotch. How humiliating. Her body obviously loved this kind of treatment.

The blows, which Kyle was trying to permanently embed into her ass, were only serving to excite her further. As the ovals of plastic grew they began thrusting with renewed vigour. It was almost as if they knew the heightened state of arousal her body had now achieved. The stimulator buzzed with a cruel pace that could have shaken her eyes out of her head, whilst the wires all around her pulsed with a delicate whirr of electricity. Her body was on the cusp of orgasm in less than thirty seconds. The pain of the crop had fuelled it in both intensity and speed and she surged over into the land of pleasure with a fierce thrust of duelling dildos, burying themselves deep. She screamed out her pleasure, the sound actually managing to make itself heard around the gag before the suit realised what was happening and put a stop to the proceedings. The stopping mechanism was brutal. Both her breasts were squeezed in a vice-like grip and her nipples were pinched excruciating tightly and pulled sharply forward. A short sharp shock ran all the way through her body and her clit was nipped in such a way that tears rolled helplessly down her eyes. So much for her promise. The pain brought her to her knees but her mind rejoiced. She might have received only the tiniest kiss of pleasure, one that had barely surfaced before it had been savagely snuffed out - but it was, she felt, a victory of sorts.

Kyle, of course, didn't see things in the same light. He came at her backside with the crop as if it was a machete and he was trying to scythe down half of the Amazon jungle. Unfortunately for him his actions backfired miserably. The acute pain of the continued blows overrode all of Jenny's brain circuits and she tumbled quickly into another short sharp climax. Her latex-clad knees buried themselves in the grass below her and she choked mindlessly around her gag. The suit didn't know what to make of it, having stopped an orgasm only seconds before, so it remained eerily silent and still while it tried to work out what to do next.

'You good-for-nothing, worthless piece of horseflesh,' Kyle yelled as he slammed the riding crop against the sulky, which promptly broke the tip off. Throwing it down in disgust he turned to face the source of his displeasure and growled at her. His predicament was somewhat similar to the suit's, because he didn't know what to do with his trainee either. She seemed to enjoy pain, which was going to anger him no-end and put a stop to most of his fun, at least for the time being, until he discovered a way to work around the problem. For now, he guessed the best thing to do would be to get her moving around the track with her cart, which would hopefully restore plenty of misery and despair back upon her face.

Throwing two of her heavy cases to the ground he barked, 'Move!' She went nowhere, though he could tell she was putting her back into it and trying her hardest to get the thing started. He threw another suitcase on the grass and yet another before the wheels started rolling underneath her. They didn't roll particularly fast and she didn't keep a straight line. Her balance was off and she was breathing hard through her gag in a matter of seconds. Kyle was pissed. Why on earth had he bid for her? She was currently the worst performing pony-girl in the stables. Yelling directly into her eardrum and smacking or pinching her ass cheeks, he managed to get her to complete a single circuit of the track before she collapsed in exhaustion.

Kyle was furious and for several reasons. One, he'd have to get special dispensation to get rid of some of her suitcases. There was no way in hell the girl would ever manage to lug eight of them around. Two, she'd had an unauthorised orgasm and he rarely allowed his ponies pleasure unless they had greatly pleased him - and she most definitely had not. Three, he couldn't punish her by walloping her backside into the next century because she seemed to enjoy that kind of thing. And four, now he had to figure out a way to punish her that didn't involve his favourite subject - pain.

Jenny had a few moments of perverse pleasure in managing to succeed where all the other girls had failed. Now she had achieved one orgasm in the suit she was sure she could chase another one, given the right incentive. Kyle seemed intent on parading her around the perimeter of Albrecht stables, as if showing off some new and wondrous prize, but unfortunately he seemed to have lost his taste for revenge. Typical. Even the sadists were out to screw her, and whilst on the subject of screwing... Jenny needed sex. She needed dirty, rough, messy, nasty sex. The suit, having been in a quandary for a few minutes, had taken the maximum half an hour break before it revved up its engines for a rerun. Within seconds of its renewed attack she was hyper-aroused and her previous orgasm seemed like a distant memory. Her movements, as she was led along by her bridle, were stiff. She was sore in all the wrong places and walking as if she had been riding a horse for several days, let alone having become one. This was still an impossible dream, wasn't it? But she knew with absolute certainty that she was living it and that she would need all her wits about her in order to escape these stables with some semblance of her life still intact. She needed Mark. One way or another, he would help her. She was sure of it. The trouble was the man was nowhere in sight.

'Ah, here comes the hotel. This is where we're headed, Petal. I figure you're due a spot of cleaning duty. It might teach you some humility and that pleasing me really is in your best interests, if you're intent on surviving your stay at Albrecht, that is.' Kyle ran a hand through his sandy blond hair and smiled to himself. The day was beginning to improve. For one thing, he'd just remembered that her suit featured several volts of electricity to reach the places other types of pain could not, and that humiliating this spoilt little rich brat could be a lot of fun if he set his mind to it.

As the hotel loomed into view he spotted Petal's head twisting this way and that, as her eyes anxiously sought out avenues of escape. She'd be crazy to try it. She was tagged and they would hunt her down and teach her a lesson she'd never forget if she put a hoof out of place. For that reason alone he hoped she'd run. He'd love to be the one who found her.

Hauling on her reins and watching her stumble forward, he led her up the gravel path towards the hotel's side entrance, which was reserved strictly for staff. Leaving her facing the door he let her bridle trail on the floor and gave her an opportunity. The question was, would she use it?

Jenny's feet itched to run, as far and as fast as they could, but although the thought of escape was uppermost in her mind she was not as foolish as Kyle thought. For one thing, she was wearing stupid high-heeled boots that made a quick getaway virtually impossible, and for another he was right behind her. If she was going to make it out of this place she would need to pick her time very carefully, and she wasn't foolish enough to believe she would make it on her own. She needed a helping hand from someone on the inside.

'Going to open the door for me, Petal?' Kyle asked the question from directly behind her and she jumped, the hood having shut out her peripheral vision. Immediately she moved forward and her hooved mitt pawed at the door before she realised her mistake. He laughed. 'You're not going to need hands in your new vocation, P. Just think of yourself as a bunch of juicy wet holes that will constantly beg to be used and abused. You'll be pleasing the patrons of the stable by allowing them to watch those lovely tits bounce up and down, when they get a chance to sit in your cart, as you prance about prettily and take them for a ride. You're officially a plaything, P. Your only mission in life is to obey every single word directed at you. Get used to it.'

He opened the door, issuing the command, 'Follow me.' As he grabbed her reins and pulled Jenny had little choice but to obey.

He led her through the empty restaurant, with its sparkling wine and water glasses, and pristinely polished crockery. Yellow English roses spewed forth from fluted vases and knives and forks glistened. Cutlery! How many days had it been since she used the ubiquitous utensils? A fresh wave of anger swept over her at the petty detail and her eyes threatened to leak fresh tears. She stoppered them. Kyle would enjoy them, and the fewer pleasures he received the better, in her opinion.

'Good morning, Grace.' Kyle winked as the secretary who had greeted Jenny a few very long days ago walked past.

'Morning, Kyle. If you're here for cleaning duty they're starting in the lobby. There are some onlookers today, wanting a bit of fun, so you've been warned.' She winked at Jenny and gave her a pleasant smile.

If Jenny had been able to she'd have bitten her head off. The ball-gag sat thickly in her mouth as she fumed. Her wants and needs mattered for little though, as she was dragged to the entrance of the lobby. When they reached the door Kyle let go of her bridle and placed his booted foot in the small of her back, before pushing her forward. Her hoof-mitts shot out to break her fall and she landed heavily on her knees.

'We always enter the lobby on all fours, to show respect for any guests who may be present.' Kyle sauntered past her and as the door swung closed, Jenny had little choice but to shuffle forward if she wanted to avoid getting her backside squashed. Following swiftly behind him, her view obscured by the back of his legs, she nearly had a heart attack as soon as he moved out of the way. The lobby was filled with naked pony-girls, but the sight of them wasn't where the shock lay. She was almost inured to bare-fleshed women and pony tack by now. The shock was wholly in what they were doing.

All of the girls were gagged without exception, and all of the gags had various cleaning attachments. There were feather dusters, mops, scrubbing brushes, brooms - and even a squeegee for cleaning the windows. If that had been the worst of it, Jenny might have sighed and accepted her fate, if not with equanimity, then with a sense of subdued resignation, but as usual Albrecht had gone a step further in its depravations.