The Mayor's Daughter: Draft Pony (9 page)

The turning
of the cog gave her a view into the inside of the show pony stall once in every
rotation, followed by a view of the one which would be her home for the
night. The pillows seemed to be beckoning to her from across the room,
reminding her of just how desperately she wanted to put her head down and
sleep. She sobbed softly, chest heaving, as she pulled against her straps,
wanting release in any form more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life. Her
life before this place seemed almost dream-like in its absurdity. She
could remember just a few days before crying because her father had rented out
the Sheraton instead of the Marriott for her ‘surprise’ birthday party. She’d
spend the rest of her life living in that moment if it would get her out of
this place.

The cattle
prod struck Jessica in the center of her lower back, the tap of its prongs to
either side of her spine. While some part of her had been expecting it
ever since it had first left her view, the wicked shock still caught her by
surprise. She bucked forward away from it, screaming in pain and releasing
her grip on the bit in her mouth, its intruder plunging itself into her
throat. Collapsing in the straps that held her as her legs finally gave
out, Jessica bent forward, her body overcome by dry heaves and painful retching
as she struggled to get the bit back into place.  

When the
charged prongs hit her again, a devastating jolt to the side of her hip as she
twisted in the straps, it was too much for Jessica to stand. She lost all
conscious control of her body as she convulsed under the assault, gagging and
heaving as her bladder let loose, hot piss spraying down her legs. Screaming
in agony, she fought desperately to get the cog moving again, to get enough
control of herself to move ahead before the prod struck again, but her body
would not respond. Trembling, shaking spastically, she waited for the next
assault of the prod.

“Now that you
know what the stakes are, why don’t we reset things, princess?” her captor
asked, coming to walk back around in front of her from the other side of the
cog, pushing the prod arm ahead of him.  

Slowly
recovering, the bit finally pushed back into place, Jessica sobbed as he moved
the arm back where she could see it. She could taste bile in her mouth,
and feel the spit drying on her chin and breasts. The acrid stench of her
own urine reached her nose as she took her feet once more, and she could feel
its wetness on the insides of her thighs.  

“I see we had
a little accident, didn’t we?” he asked cruelly as she struggled to regain
her composure, blushing crimson, having just pissed all over herself in front
of him. “Maybe you’re not show pony material after all.”

She closed
her eyes, taking the time afforded to her now to gather what strength she could
before he started up the arm again. She opened them again when she felt
his hand on her wet thigh, and then watched him as he brought his urine-soaked
hand up to her face. She wrinkled her nose, trying to pull away to no
avail. He placed the wet hand over her face and mouth, covering them as he
leaned in to whisper in her ear while she held her breath.

“Next time,
if you warn me, I’ll catch it in a cup and let you drink it,” he hissed in
her ear. “I bet you’d drink it right now, as thirsty as you must be. If not
now, then tomorrow definitely.”

Laughing, he
took his hand away, wiping it off on her breasts before pushing the button on
the arm again and setting it in motion. Without waiting a moment, Jessica
pressed her worn body into service again, driving it forward as best she could
to follow the threatening prod. Getting the wheel back into motion was
almost more than her tortured body could stand, but she finally made it happen,
matching the arm’s pace when it had only gained a little ground on her.

“Oh, and
princess…,” her captor called out over his shoulder as he walked away. “Remember
that, after you’re finished here and have been hit with that prod a few more
times, I am going to take you back to your stall and make you scream and cry
tears you didn’t think you had left.”

Sobbing, she
continued to follow the arm, trying not to think of what was to come and to
focus instead on making his prediction about the cattle prod not come
true. The words rang in her ears, though, and almost made her give up on
the attempt of the moment. What was the point, a small but dangerous part
of her mind asked? There was no way to avoid the tortures to which he was
subjecting her. Why fight it? She quelled those thoughts, telling
herself that giving up was exactly what he wanted, ‘breaking’ her, as he had
put it. As long as she kept fighting him, there was a chance of escape,
and of living through this hell on earth.

Despite her
captor’s predictions, Jessica was not struck again by the cattle prod before he
returned. Though her legs felt like they were made of rubber and breathing
had become a loud, constant wheeze, she managed to force herself into the
repetitive motion of keeping pace with the motorized arm. She had lost
track of how many rotations she had made seemingly hours before, and was
actually surprised when her captor moved into her field of vision and stopped
the arm, having long ago assumed that he was never going to return. When
she stopped, too, her body gave out under her. She fell back against the
cog arm to which she was attached, mostly supported by her straps. She
could feel the muscles of her legs tightening.

“Good girl,” he
whispered softly, coming to her side and caressing her trembling thigh. “I’m
proud of you, princess. I thought you were made of softer stuff than that.”

She stared at
the ground as she dangled in the straps, taking deep, shuddering breaths. She
felt his hands move over her legs, caressing and kneading some life back into
them. As much as she despised him, the massaging of her legs felt like
heaven and she moaned softly. After all too short a time, she felt and
heard the return of the cuffs to her ankles, and then the gradual release of
the cog-straps from her body. He moved carefully, gently lowering her onto
her knees when she was freed from the wheel, and then moving behind her to unlock
her wrists from where they were attached between her shoulder blades.

“On your hands
and knees,” he ordered, and she sobbed with relief as her arms were freed
from the painful position.

Falling to
all fours next to him, pins and needles leapt to life inside her arms as they
finally came from behind her back. With the posture collar still in place,
she could only look at the floor while she knelt like some kind of animal, and
she was grateful that she couldn’t look up to see her captor’s eyes. Her
captor squatted down next to her and she watched as he attached a short chain
to each of her mittens. Instead of attaching the two mittens together with
them, though, he locked the other end of each to a ring on the front of her
body harness, between and slightly above her breasts, first forcing her to bend
her elbows about halfway, the chains ensuring that she would not be able to
straighten them again on their watch.

Before the
night before, it would never have occurred to her that there could be so many
ways to tie someone up, or that anyone would ever have need for them if there
were. And yet here she was, in yet another strange position, though she
had to admit that she much preferred this one to almost all of the other she
had experienced. Her hands, though trapped in their mittens, were in front
of her instead of behind, which felt less confining even if she had to keep
them within about a foot of her neck. Her legs were another matter, of
course, in the ridiculous boots and once again locked in cuffs, but it was
better than when her feet had been tied to her thighs, at least a little. It
felt strange to consider such things, but better than considering the prospect
of what was to come in what he had called the ‘post room.’

“Let’s go,
princess,” he ordered, giving her ass a hard swat with his bare
hand.  

She moved
forward in the direction he pushed her, heading now toward that very
stall. She could only stare at the floor as she crawled, ruling out the
possibility of any sort of resistance. She was grateful that he seemed much calmer
now than he had when she had first turned down the show pony room. It
seemed silly now, trying to act defiant in such a meaningless way, but she
supposed that hindsight was always twenty-twenty. Saying yes to being a
show pony, in her mind, felt like saying yes to being a pony at all, and a part
of her clung to the desire not to give in to him. She wondered, though, if
she’d be able to find the courage to do it again, when the prospect of the cog
loomed before her again.  

Entering the
stall, the hay scratched her knees as she crawled across it. He led her to
the two troughs on the floor before stopping her. She groaned as she felt
his weight on her as he sat down on her, straddling the small of her back like
a saddle. The burden of his extra mass, however, did not diminish the
excitement she felt when he reached down to remove the bit and rubber straps
from her harness, allowing her to finally unclench her teeth without
fear. While she slowly moved her jaw, wincing as it protested after its
long confinement, she felt him remove the heavy collar from her neck and her
head fell forward.

“You need
some food and water, princess,” he said as he rose from her back, but only
after clicking something in place on the back of her harness. “Eat and drink
your fill, and I will see you in a little while. I have a couple things to
prepare.”

Without
waiting another moment, ignoring the humiliation of drinking from a trough,
Jessica plunged her face into the water. The blinders, still attached to
her head harness, dipped into the water as she lapped and sucked at it
greedily. Her parched mouth felt rejuvenated by the cool water. Her
thirst sated, she moved over to the food trough, more skeptical about what it
contained. Carefully lowering her head into it at an angle that wouldn’t
plunge any pieces of the harness into the stuff, she tasted a bit of the porridge
with her lips and tongue. It was bland, tasting only of oats, but there
was nothing to offend about it, so she ate. When she had her fill, she moved
back to the water trough, drinking again and using the water to wash the
oatmeal residue from her chin.

Still sore,
but feeling better than she had in some time, she turned over to sit in the
hay, her back against the wall of the stall. Looking up, she saw that he
had attached her back to a black rope that led up to a pulley attached to one
of the exposed ceiling beams. When she moved it played out line, drawing
it back in when she got closer to it. She was sure that it would not give
her much slack to go far. Her mittened hands dangled in front of her, and
she took this first opportunity to actually look at the mittens up close and
see if there was any chance of removal. They had buckles like a belt on
them, and she was hopeful for a moment that she might be able to open one with
her teeth, but that hope dissipated when she saw that there were small locks on
the buckles that prevented them from moving. Try as she might, they were
not coming off.

Looking down
over her body, she was disgusted by the state of her legs. She could feel
the stickiness on them where her urine had dried, and she wanted to wash them
off in the trough, but decided against it, unsure of when, if ever, he would be
replacing its supply of water. She tugged angrily at the familiar handcuffs
that imprisoned her ankles over the boots. As expected, there was no
escaping from the devices in which she was held. Giving up on any chances
of freedom, but making the most of the situation given her, she curled up on
her side on the floor in the hay, resting her head on her mittened hands, and
let her exhaustion sweep her away.

Jessica woke
with an exhausted sob, crying out pathetically as she felt her body being
dragged across the scratchy hay that covered the floor of her nightmarish
prison. On her side as she was dragged, she struggled mightily against the
restraints that held her so tightly, but they offered no mercy. Her body
ached from the long confinement, and she yearned desperately for the oblivion
of unconsciousness, the waking world promising only more horror.

“Did you have
permission to sleep, Princess?” Her captor’s voice rasped threateningly above
her, and she whimpered softly as she struggled to halt her slide, looking up to
see him wearing the black mask again. “You’ll have to be punished for that.”

“No!” she
screamed, hot tears stinging her eyes as she fought her way onto her hands and
knees, crawling after him as he pulled her by the rope that had leashed her to
the ceiling earlier. “Please, don’t!  Oh god… I’m so… I’m just so
tired… I can’t handle this.”

Ignoring her
cries, he led her into a shower stall that was tucked behind the stable. Its
polished white tiles were cool beneath her knees as she entered. Exhausted,
panting for air, she fought desperately to hold back the hysteria that
threatened to overwhelm her as she saw more chains and cuffs attached to the
ceiling, walls, and floors. As the pace of her breathing increased, she
felt her hold on her sanity slipping. This couldn’t be happening to her. This
insane world could not be reality.

“Since I’ve
got to get you cleaned up anyways, we’ll just kill two birds with one stone in
here.” He spoke, raising his voice slightly above her crying, and her body
spasmed as a rusted, heavy iron cuff closed around her booted ankle, its chain
leading to a ring bolted to the floor.

“Don’t! NO!” Jessica
shrieked hysterically, the heavy chain rattling softly as she yanked at it in
terror and frustration.

Jessica
kicked out wildly at her captor as he released the handcuffs with their short
chain from her ankles. Deflecting the blow of her hoofed boot with one
hand, he grabbed her ankle with the other, yanking it out from under her so
that her ass came down hard on the floor. Screaming helplessly, she could
only watch through eyes blurred by tears as he closed a heavy, matching cuff
around her other ankle.

“Pleeeeaaaase…,” Jessica
groaned between gasping sobs. “Don’t do this. Just… Just… Just let me go-oh.”

With her
ankles locked in place, Jessica’s captor grabbed her arm and lifted her up on
to wobbly legs. Trembling with fear, she looked up into his cold eyes as
he steadied her for a moment. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a
strangled sob escaped her. Misery held her like a living entity, robbing
her of any thoughts but it, overwhelming her with its strength. Unlocking
her mitten-shrouded left hand from the chain that kept it close to her chest,
he stretched her arm out toward one of the walls, gathering a cuff and chain
from that wall, and bringing the two to meet. The cuff closed around her
wrist, locking it in place.

“Daddy will
definitely want pictures of shower time, won’t he, Princess?” he spoke
cruelly as he repeated the process with her right hand, the chains now holding
her standing spread wide inside the gleaming white stall.

Jessica didn’t
answer, struggling instead to get a hold of herself as he slowly began to
remove the leather harness from her head. She focused on one word: Daddy.
It was a reminder to her that there was an end in sight to this house of horrors. Her
father would pay him, and then the sick fuck would let her go. His hands
moved over her body as he removed the straps of her harnesses, freeing her head
and torso of their tight grip. She could see the angry red lines it had
left in the soft flesh of her upper body.

“Wh-what are
you going to do to me?” Jessica stammered, fighting to regain control of
herself as the leather was removed from her.

Though the
harness on her upper body had offered her body no real concealment, she still
regretted its loss, blushing as the full exposure of this spread position became
uncomfortably obvious to her. Wearing only the mittens and boots now, she
rattled the chains that held her arms and legs wide. Her small breasts
trembled with each shuddering breath. She shook her head gently, trying to
shake free her matted hair as it clung to her cheeks.  

“C-can you
please take these things off my hands?” she asked softly, her captor’s
silence un-nerving. “I can’t… I can’t feel my – Oh FUCK!”

Jessica’s
quiet plea was replaced by a shocked scream as the shower head opened above
her, releasing a torrent of freezing water down onto her body. She
convulsed, gasping as she tried to catch her breath as her chest constricted
under the frigid flow. She jerked in the un-giving chains, crying out as
the touch of a rough-bristled brush was added to the water’s caress. Holding
the long-handled brush in both hands, her captor vigorously scoured her
body. Her skin burned where the soapy head of the brush ravaged her soft
flesh.

She nearly
collapsed as the brush plunged between her legs, its wielder oblivious to her
cries as he tortured her most sensitive flesh with its rough bristles. She
fought desperately against the chains, squirming helplessly, as the cruel brush
explored every inch of her exposed flesh. Jessica closed her mouth and
lips, whining in protest as he raked it across her face and neck. Through
it all, the cold spray of water rained down on her, making her teeth chatter
and wracking her slender body with shivers.

When the flow
of water finally stopped, and the brush ceased its attack, Jessica could only
collapse in her bonds, her body held aloft by the chains as she shook with
cold. Lips blue, the flesh of her body red, she looked up pleadingly at
her captor as he stepped in close to her. Instinctively, she pressed close
against him, her body desperate for the warmth of his as he wrapped an arm
around her, his hand coming to rest casually on her bare ass.

“Now, I’d
imagine that would have been a bad enough experience on its own, Princess, but
you’ve gone and made it worse by earning some punishment,” he spoke
softly, his voice almost a whisper, and her ass clenched as his hand explored
it. “Though, you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself about earning it. To be
honest, I’d have been probably been too unable to avoid the temptation of
whipping you anyways, all strung up like you are.”

“Wh-whipping…
m-m-me?” Jessica stammered through chattering teeth. “N-no… please… I’ll…
I’ll do… anything.”

“Anything? Will
you beg me to fuck you up the ass then?”

The words
came from his mouth so casually that they stunned her, and she could only look
up at him with wide eyes. Gasping, she shifted forward slightly, as much
as the chains allowed, as she felt one of his fingers slip between her smooth asscheeks,
its tip coming to rest against her anus.

“What about
it, Princess?” he hissed cruelly, the finger twisting as it pressed
against her tight rosebud. “Would you rather I just shove my cock up inside
your ass?”

“Don’t! Get
away from me!” Jessica shrieked, her voice echoing in the enclosed tile
stall, as she struggled to avoid the press of his finger.

“You
see. They always say that they’ll do anything,” he whispered,
removing his hand from her ass, “but only until they find out what that really
means.”

Jessica hung
from the chains, sobbing uncontrollably. She wanted to curl up in a
corner, to hug herself for warmth, and to forget the cruel reality of this
place, but the cuffs on her wrists and ankles held her wide and helpless. Bone
weary, sore and cold, she couldn’t imagine undergoing any more of his torture.

“P-please,” Jessica
sobbed softly, her voice interrupted by terrified gasps, “don’t do …
this. Don’t … do this … to me.”

When she saw
him raise the slender rod with which he had struck her on that first fateful
evening, Jessica squirmed helplessly in her bonds. The leather of her
mittens creaked as she pulled desperately against the heavy cuffs that held her
open to the approach of the rod. Tears streamed from her eyes as she
watched him raise it high.

“Oww! Fuck!” Jessica
screamed as the tip of the slender rod came down hard across her breast,
throwing her head back as she cried out. “Oh God, it hurts!”

She shook
futilely in her bonds as he lashed her cruelly with the rod, strikes raining
down across her breasts and stomach. Sobbing hysterically, she could do
nothing to avoid or repel his attack as he worked over her body. She
watched as angry red welts began to rise on her flesh under his brutal assault. When
he finished, dropping the rod to the tile floor with a clatter, she was barely
clinging to consciousness, dangling in the chains. She winced as he
stepped in close to her again, running his hands over the marks of the lashing
on her trembling body. She could feel his hard cock pressed against her
bare hip, straining to break free of his black pants.

“Are you
ready for your test, Princess?” he whispered softly as he continued to
fondle her body. “Would you like to see if you might be show pony material?”

Sobbing, she
nodded her head in answer, eyes downcast. She watched his fingers on her
body. Smiling, he released the cuffs from her wrists. She didn’t
resist as he drew her hands behind her back and locked the rings of her mittens
together. Bending over, he released her ankles from their cuffs as well,
and she was able to bring her legs together. Without the support of the
chains, it was more difficult to keep her balance in the boots, and she wobbled
slightly before gaining her footing. With a hand firmly on her upper arm,
he led her out of the shower and to the open area in the center of the room.