The Mayor's Daughter: Draft Pony (7 page)

“But I liked
my life.” Jessica felt new tears slips from her eyes, and then stiffened
as he wrapped the wide band around her neck, her mittened hands instinctively
reaching up to it. “What? What is that?”

“It’s called
a posture collar, princess, and it will be good for you,” he explained as
he buckled it in place. The soft but firm leather covered her neck from
sternum to chin, cradling the line of her jaw and holding it firmly in
place. As he locked it on her, she discovered that she could no longer
either turn her head or look down.

Lost in a sea
of hopelessness, she began to sob wholeheartedly again, bare breasts heaving as
she gave in to her despair. She felt, rather than saw, her captor drawing
her right arm behind her back, bending it at the elbow and then pulling her
hand up between her shoulder blades. There was the click of a lock as the
hand was secured in place. Her whole body quivered as she cried, not
resisting as he brought her left hand up to match the uncomfortable position of
the right.

“That’s it, baby,” he
whispered softly, running his fingers through her hair and drawing it up into a
ponytail on the back of her head. “Just let it all out.”

“You can’t do
this to me!” she screamed through her tears, yanking at the bonds that held her
hands up behind her back.  

“Oh, but I
can and I am, princess.”  

Jessica’s
shoulders shook as she sobbed, her captor beginning to wrap a thin series of
straps around her head. The thin, soft leather crisscrossed her cheeks,
and she saw a set of wide black blinders in place on the sides of her face,
blocking out her peripheral vision. Taking stock of her situation filled
her with even less hope than she had felt that morning. Her hands were
doubly useless to her, imprisoned in the leather mitts and then trapped high up
on her back, as if she were praying, only in reverse. Her legs were
seemingly free, but her brief experience walking in the boots told her that
they were quite effectively restrained. She was almost grateful for the
stiff collar on her neck that barred her from looking down, simply for the fact
that it stopped her from looking down at her naked body, her breasts and pussy completely
exposed and vulnerable in spite of the many strange adornments that he had
strapped on her.

“Open up,
princess,” he whispered in her ear, one hand holding something metallic in
front of her lips while he wrapped the other around her waist.

She opened
her mouth at his command, though she regretted it almost instantly. It was
a metal bar that he placed between her lips, like a horse’s bit, and it tasted
foul and metallic. Worse, though, a projection of some kind stuck out of
the back of it and he forced it back until it set off her gag reflex. She
fought against its continuing advance with her tongue and lips, and he eased
his pressure just enough for it to rest far enough forward not to gag
her. He attached the bit to the harness that enwrapped her head with what
felt like thick rubber bands against her tear-stained cheeks.

“Please ta—” Jessica’s
attempt at speech was interrupted by fierce gagging. As soon as she
released the bit from the hold of her teeth, it plunged back deeper into her
throat, and she had to struggle against the pull of its rubber holders to force
it back out into a bearable position.

“There, there,
pet,” he hissed, rubbing his hands up and down her thighs as she recovered
from the gagging, her teeth clenched tightly on the metal in her mouth. “Ponies
don’t need to speak.”

Jessica
stared straight ahead, though she had little choice, as he lifted her carefully
to her feet. He rose with her, keeping his hands on her hips. Even in the
treacherous boots, he was still nearly a foot taller than she was. She swayed
as she struggled to keep her balance up on her toes. Her feet cried out in
protest at the unnatural position and she nearly toppled, leaning into the grip
of her captor to avoid falling.

“Take your
time, princess.” He righted her again, one hand remaining on her hip while
the other roamed down to glide over the firm globes of her ass. “You’ll want to
take slow, easy steps until you get the hang of it. I’ll help you.”

Jessica’s
cheeks burned red in humiliation as he prodded her gently forward with his hand
on her ass. Focusing hard, she brought her right foot forward and it came
down on the hard floor with a little clopping sound. As much as she hated
doing as commanded, she recognized that she would need to learn to walk in
these god-awful boots if she was going to have any chance of escaping this
place. Hesitantly, she took a few more careful steps forward, leaning
against him for support only when absolutely necessary. Vivid memories of
ballet class as a child sprung into her mind. She’d dropped out of the
classes at a young age, specifically because she refused to learn to go up on
her toes, ‘en pointe’ or something she thought her instructor had called
it. Now here she was getting another lesson, though this was not one that
she was going to be allowed to quit. It suddenly occurred to her that, if
she hadn’t dropped out of ballet class so many years before, she might have
been able to make good on her escape attempt earlier.

“You’re doing
very well, princess,” he told her softly, stopping her and stepping in behind
her.

As he drew
her in close, crushing her bound arms behind her against his broad chest,
Jessica’s captor reached around to roughly grasp her breasts, squeezing
them. She cried out through clenched teeth as he mauled them with his
strong hands. Her powerlessness was overwhelming. Never before in her
life had she felt so small and helpless, barely able to even walk, let alone
fight back, as this cruel stranger groped and fondled her. Holding tight
to her body, one hand roaming down over her flat stomach to tickle it lightly
as she panted, he turned her to face another corner of the room. With the
blinders and collar directing her sight forward, she had originally missed the
rope strung in a rough circle at about waist level, perhaps 30 feet in
circumference, supported at various points by metal poles set in the floor, and
with knots tied at intervals along its length.

“We’re going
to call this a little trial by fire for you, princess.” He patted her ass
again, finished with his fondling and directing her toward the waiting rope. “This
should be an excellent opportunity for you to get the hang of walking again.”

As she
stumbled forward awkwardly, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering how long
it would be until he decided to rape her, and why he had restrained himself
thus far. It was clear from the way that he reacted to her that he wanted
to, she thought with dread and loathing, and yet he had so far abstained from
taking her. She tugged nervously at the bonds on her wrists, recognizing
how vulnerable she was at this moment, her pussy bare and exposed with no means
to defend herself. He stopped her, facing the ring of rope, just in front
of one of its supporting poles. Jessica’s heart pounded in her chest in
anticipation of what was to come.

“Hhleeezzeee….
Dhon’t,” she groaned around the metallic bit in her mouth as her captor
lifted her up and placed her back down again, the rope stretching out in front
of her, and firmly pressed between her legs.

The rough
hemp bit into Jessica’s bare pussy lips as she came to rest on the floor with a
light clatter. She cried out, screaming in frustration around the bit, as
he crudely spread those nether lips, allowing the scratchy rope to wedge itself
between them. When he released her, she wobbled slightly, squeezing her
legs together tightly to try to alleviate some of its pressure, and to seek
what support she could gain from the taut rope.

“We’re going
to try some laps, princess, and keep going until you’ve got the hang of walking
again,” he spoke slowly, pausing to fit in his words between her ragged
pants and grunts.

With
tear-blurred vision, she saw him squat down, leaving her limited field of
vision, and then felt his hands run over her legs. As she struggled to
maintain her balance, he caressed her thighs and ass, spreading her cheeks as
if her were inspecting her. She wanted to scream and rage against him, but
the bit continued to threaten to make another plunge into her throat, requiring
the constant attention of her clenched jaw to remain in place. The bound
girl stood absolutely still as her captor rose to walk around behind her, too
afraid of losing her balance to move.

“Three….
Two….” he spoke strongly, and Jessica felt herself step forward immediately,
instinctively.

With the hesitant,
mincing step, the rough hemp scraped painfully across her vulnerable pussy and
she cried out in pain, legs wobbling. Stopping again, she clenched her thighs
tight against the rope. Recovering, she couldn’t believe how quickly his
voice had made her move, the simple countdown bringing horrific memories of the
long night before directly to her mind. The rope was extremely
uncomfortable even without movement, particularly because she was forced to
lean into it for the extra support that her feet could not give her while
trapped in the boots. In motion, however, it was a far worse experience,
and her pussy burned from the inch she had traveled.

“Keep moving,
princess,” her captor ordered behind, and she felt something tap against
the rope, making it quiver for a moment. “Three… Two…. One…”

Ready for the
countdown this time, Jessica forced herself to remain still throughout it,
though her body instinctively wanted to move. At its conclusion, she felt
something tap against her left asscheek, and then an explosion of pain that
rippled through her leg and belly. She screamed as the shock tore through
her, and then gagged on the bit as it plunged back into her open mouth. Choking,
she lost her balance and fell forward, the cruel rope dragging across her tender
pussy until she fell past it, her shoulder hitting the ground hard. She
trembled, lying on her side and unable to right herself, one of her legs lifted
up in the air and resting on the taut rope. She fought with the bit, her
jaw tightening and threatening to cramp as she forced it back into place.

“I expect my commands
to be obeyed, princess,” he said softly as he reached down to lift her,
setting her back on her feet with the rope once more riding against her pussy.
“Make no mistake, ponygirl. I will break you.”

As she sobbed
and struggled to maintain her balance, Jessica watched her captor move in front
of her. Through a haze of tears, she saw that he was carrying a red rod
with two prongs on its end that were tipped in metal. She jerked
backwards, almost falling, as he pointed the thing in her direction.

“It’s a cattle
prod, in case you’re wondering,” he laughed.

Her cheeks
red and flush with tears, Jessica struggled to walk forward, her chest heaving
with sobs as the rope ground between her pussy lips. Her boots continued
to make their clopping noises with each careful step. She tried to focus
her mind on something else, anything else, but it refused to concentrate on
anything but the pain between her legs and the horror of this captivity. Pausing
between each careful step to clutch the rope with her thighs and adjust her
balance, she continued her slow pace forward until she felt a thick knot
against the lips of her pussy, dreading the thought of trying to pass it.

“Keep going,
princess,” her captor warned her, still brandishing the wicked prod as she
stared into his eyes, pleading silently with him.

Closing her
eyes tightly, squeezing the tears from them, she pushed herself slowly forward
over the knot. Her thighs trembled as the sensation, a bizarre mix of
titillation and pain, rushed through them. Jessica’s breath caught in her
throat as the rough knot grazed across her clitoris before burying itself in
her vagina for a moment before she passed it completely. On the other side
of the knot, she paused, a thin sheen of sweat coating her slender body. Pressing
forward again, she sobbed as the rough rope continued to bite into her most
sensitive flesh, reaching another knot and passing this one more quickly.

“You’re
getting the hang of it,” her captor spoke proudly as she neared the first
pole and new anger flashed up in her.

Jessica’s
pussy already felt raw from this first leg of her journey, and the insides of
her legs ached from the constant effort of keeping herself upright in the
torturous boots. It wouldn’t have been as bad if she wasn’t almost
continuously forced to rely on the rope for additional support, causing her to
ride harder against it than her sore flesh desired. Reaching the first
pole, she tried to concentrate harder on balancing in the boots alone, to
relieve some of the pain. It was a difficult task, and she was reminded of
why she had quit ballet those years before. The boots, in their own way,
actually helped a little, giving her a broader platform than just the toes on
which to rest, and supplying some support. However, it was still a huge
adjustment to get used to walking with her toes pointing straight down and
without the support of her heels.

“Soon, you’ll
be high-stepping with pride, my luscious little pony,” her captor spoke,
his eyes beaming, as he watched her inch her way up to the first post.

Moving onto
the post, Jessica took a moment to recover, able to relax slightly by pressing
the insides of her thighs and calves against the cool metal and sitting down
slightly on its rounded top. The cool metal against her ragged pussy was a
welcome change from the rough rope, and she sobbed softly in relief, dreading
the next step back out onto the rope.