Beyond Charybdis (14 page)

‘Are you up to that, Mina? Would you earn a reprieve for you both by showing obedience that this little filly couldn't?' she asked, taking hold of the crotch rope and yanking at it, riding it stridently against Trisha. The girl below her spasmed and squealed in almost infantile tones, Mina's struggles having left her womb raw and tender, the rough jolt of the woven length now bringing unprecedented suffering.

‘Or would you rather leave her to suffer, I wonder? Pay her back, because after all, you are only here because she fucked up.' She was gloating over their ordeal, teasing them with the offer of release, making the position suddenly much worse as the end was placed in sight but not delivered.

‘Would you like to earn freedom, Mina?' she again questioned, watching with satisfaction as she nodded as best she could against the efforts of collar and contorted backbreaking bondage. ‘Good girl.'

Walking aside, she blew out the candle with a single puff and pulled it from Trisha's mouth, letting the girl finally find relief from its trespass. But it was not for long, for a large dildo was taken up and forced back in its place, making Trisha gurgle and retch as it was shoved rudely in.

‘Now, you bite to this and don't spit it out or you'll be spending the rest of the night here,' warned the woman, and moved to release Mina's clamps.

The moment they were set loose, Mina flung herself against the rope responsible for holding her down as her teats screeched their hatred of the crushing jaws of the clamps. Jolting in fits, she endured the steady process of recovery from the abuse, her breasts pulsating with waves of aching pain. Once she had settled, the woman started to unfasten the crotch rope from Mina's collar. Mina tried to straighten up but could not, her long confinement having crippled her responses. With a shove the woman assisted her, doubling Mina up with a croak of mayhem, the flares down her spine and through her stomach a sudden and fierce sensation. Shaking in recovery, she felt her shins being set free and she was brought down off the table to stand on wobbly legs, her senses reeling from her punishment.

‘Now, I want you to ride that dildo for me until I say stop,' ordered the woman, standing to one side with her arms folded, her eyes lowered as she looked up and down Mina's body. ‘Can you do that?'

Mina nodded her assent as she turned and looked at Trisha, her mouth yawning wide to hold the plastic rod, her cheeks and lips streaked with dry wax.

‘Well, get on then,' snapped the woman with irate tones.

With a spry flurry of movement, Mina climbed back up onto the table and lowered herself over the shaft. The rounded head brushed her loins, revealing a thin sheen of lubricant upon it that eased entry. Tensing against her uniform, she groaned with wanton lust as she felt the large shaft fill her, riding deep and making her quake with elation. The long period of her pains and her secret masochistic relish of her ordeal had left her yearning for some pleasure, and now that she was able to help herself, she was exceedingly amicable to it.

Lifting herself up, she brought herself to the tip and then slid back down, shuddering with glee at the wonderful feeling. The woman moved in and tied the crotch rope about Mina's waist, making the strand grind against Trisha with every piston jump of her partner's torso on the toy.

‘Quicker, bitch!' growled the woman, making Mina accelerate her motions, riding up and down against the rod sheathed in her comrade's maw. Thrusting her belly against the air, jerking upon the shaft, she rode it with haste, the plastic javelin darting in and out of her womb. Mina wondered as to Trisha's thoughts, what she must be thinking as her belly was rubbed by the harsh rope, her eyes filled with the image of Mina's hindquarters dancing upon the rod emerging from her mouth.

Gasping with joy, Mina felt herself dribbling moisture down the pole, the lines trickling down to Trisha's supporting mouth. Heedless of Trisha's ordeal, seeking only to sate herself and free them both, Mina continued, feeling a climax starting to gather.

‘That's it, girl, come on, I want to see you climax,' hissed the woman, her voice corrupted by voyeuristic lust, her breath swift from licentious craving inspired by watching Mina's salacious form riding a rod sheathed in another pony's maw.

Mina cried out onto the air, letting loose her answer to orgasm as she bounded and jerked upon the length, her body quaking, rising to fight the rope about her waist, her body shivering and doubling up as she continued to try and extract all the bliss she could before she could take no more.

Slowing she settled onto the phallus, lowering until her rear was resting on the glass, the point of the rod pressing to her depths, her sex just touching the lips of Trisha.

‘Any reason you're stopping?' demanded the woman, revealing that this deed was no act of generosity, but a further punishment she would have to endure. ‘I don't recall telling you to quit. Ride that pole or you're both for it!'

Gritting her teeth Mina recommenced her motions, shaking as her constant shuffle upon the upright phallus bore heat to her innards, making the membranes ache and then start to burn as time continued. Once more she managed to climax, but after that her sex was reviling the simulated coitus too much to permit any pleasure. Stiff and tensed against her bonds, Mina screwed her eyes shut as she sought to endure the distress of her own self-inflicted abuse, bouncing on the rod as the woman watched.

‘Okay, that will do,' the blonde eventually stated, making Mina sigh with relief as she extracted herself from the accursed length and stepped back to the floor, her pudenda sore, the flesh vexed by the unnaturally prolonged ride. ‘Get off.'

They were both released from their bondage and escorted back to their stable, the clamps mercifully forsaken for the return trip. Clipped back onto their anchoring reins and wall fittings, the woman laughed scornfully and shut the door, leaving them to huddle together and soothe each other's sense of resentment and loathing of the spiteful slave.

 

With the usual repetition, the nurse attended them in the morning, entering their stall and leaving the two ponies clean and fresh.

Their owners stepped out into the doorway, ready for the day's activities. Tethys had adorned herself with a set of leather shorts, the polished hide armed with a dual fastened zip that plunged through the crotch all the way around to the back. Wearing the same tall riding boots, the footwear had again been tongue polished earlier, the residue of the slave responsible for the task still marked upon the dark jet surfaces. A studded leather choker encircled her throat, and a strapless bra gathered her breasts and forged a plunging cleavage with made-to-measure cups. Short gloves covered her hands, the fingerless affairs allowing her black nails to emerge, her palms closed around a riding crop.

Oceanus was clad in a similar style, with the same riding boots, shorts, and gloves worn for the trip. His bare chest remained unadorned, his skin starting to gather a little colour from the sun, after having been denied it for a lengthy time because of their undersea environment. Twirling his own crop he approached the two slaves and unfastened them from their anchors, capturing both their reins and leading them out, their bodies brushing against one another as they tottered forward on their hooves.

Taken across the corridor to another of the featureless doors that hid all manner of locations from view, Tethys opened the portal for them, allowing them to be escorted into a small garage. Here a pair of phaeton-style carriages awaited, aimed towards the ascending metal shutters on the other side.

Both phaetons were slender, the open four-wheeled contraptions formed from varnished wood and gleaming steel. The carriages themselves allowed two red velvet seats to face each other with a pair of small doors stretched between them on either side. The doors were marked with the trident symbol of Poseidon, decreeing their heraldry with pride. On the front two corners, beside a driver's seat, were glass lanterns, the antique style updated with an electric bulb rather than an oil wick.

Two steel arms reached forward from the sides, the arching limbs diverting aside and connecting to create a bar where eyelets were welded into place in readiness for the entrance of a pony. Several dense leather restraints were set upon the steel, the buckled harnesses open and waiting.

A young girl, her head sealed in a leather hood, was furled at the side of the carriage in a tight ball, her face to the floor, her thigh-booted legs curled tightly to her. Her arms were locked together beneath her in a single triangular sleeve of leather that anchored itself with hoops about her shoulders, the twin circles linked by another strap across her shoulder-blades to prevent her from acquiring any hope of sloughing off the restraint.

A stringent corset of black hide compressed her form, the presented back fitted with a plate of boning that made the surface more flat and stable to be trodden upon. The living step also wore her chastity belt and a steel collar, the band about her throat connecting via a silver chain to the rear of the coach, declaring that she was a fixture of the carriage, a piece of furniture who served whomever made use of the vehicle.

Another slave stood to the side, presented at rigid attention and bearing a wicker hamper. The woman was an archetypal maid, but one crafted from fetishistic allure rather than practical household servitude. A short dress of black latex ran down her body, gathering her sedate curves and extending down her arms, the tight sleeves sealing her hands within added gloves. The high neck rolled over her collar, where a slit at the front allowed her D-ring to emerge. Her long bleached-white hair was tied back into a firm plait, with a small cap of rigid latex fixed firmly into it. A white apron, the rubber fitted with a lace frill around the front was part of the dress, the large white bow at the back a fanciful addition. Bleak burnished leggings fell into ankle boots, the laced footwear perching her on tall heels.

Her slender features were servile, her eyes lowered as she awaited her orders, trained in submission to attend the whim of her dominant charges. She was a striking vision to behold, for since her arrival Mina had seen very little of the comprehensive rubber encasement with which she had become so enamoured. The image of the maid, locked within her skin-tight cell of a uniform, roused the slumbering hunger for such attire, reminding Mina of how much she relished the feel of it encompassing and compressing her body like some insidious living entity.

Oceanus showed them both to the front of the vehicle and led them under the metal arms. Tethys joined him in securing the trained girls to their posts, the restraints being quickly buckled and secured to their humble forms. Mina deserted herself to the feeling of being bound, to the steady gathering of weight upon her as the various bonds were tightened to squeeze to her form. Clenching herself against the crotch strap, she held to the trespassers in fits, giving a little struggle so that she might encourage a touch of discipline while she was being trapped for service.

‘Stay still, Mina,' growled Tethys, the demand causing her to dwindle her efforts but not stop them. ‘I said stay still, pony!' she barked, and brought the crop onto her rear, connecting both cheeks with the strut, making her stiffen and give a sob of reply before sinking more amiably into the arms of the coach. ‘That's better,' commented the woman, adding the finishing touches.

Their hands had been removed from their corsets and re-secured to the arm before them, spread apart a little so that their limbs provided some assistance in holding the main bar. A larger strap had reached around their waist, hugging them to the bar, the band resting comfortably upon their backs, making decelerating an easier feat as the main centre of pressure upon them would come from it. Acceleration, however, required them to shove with their hands or use their stomachs against the thick front bar.

Their reins were threaded over them and taken to the driver's seat, the small perch already armed with a slot for a long lunge whip to ensure the two women were kept under control.

‘We are done, slave,' decreed Oceanus, tugging on the straps to ensure all was secure before walking to the side of the vehicle. The maid moved forward and opened the door for them to enter, bowing as she did so. Oceanus stepped onto the humble footstool, his weight making the girl sigh with pleasure, her desire to be used running as an extreme thirst that took any opportunity to ease itself.

Tethys followed, and as the two Nobles settled into the comfort of the interior, the maid closed the door, bowed again and retrieved the hamper. Slotting it onto a small ledge at the back of the vehicle she ran two straps over it to ensure the ride did not dislodge it, and returned to the driver's position.

With the soft murmuring creak of stretching latex the girl slid onto the perch and accepted both sets of reins in one hand while taking the whip in her other. The footstool arose and walked to the back of the phaeton, standing patiently, peering through the two small eye-slits that offered her a meagre view of her depraved world of hedonistic excess.

A touch to a remote control caused the motors of the door to chug into stuttering life, the whine of strain preceding a deafening clatter of metal as it was hoisted up onto the roller above. The segmented steel bands rose, permitting light to pour through the growing aperture, letting their eyes accustom to it before they were dazzled by the brilliance of the day.

There was a soft whistle of displaced air and Mina yelled onto her bit as the tip of the whip flicked forth and snapped against her rear. The intense jolt made her throw herself to the bar, thrusting with her arms as their reins were flung, the leather leashes jerking against their bits, making them dig at the corners of their mouths. Digging their hooves against the solid floor, they started to haul the vehicle forward, the process swiftly becoming easier as they continued their efforts. The whip attacked again, alternating between Trisha and Mina, applied without cause just to have them bolster their efforts.